The Passion According To Señorita LyN

Lost in Amsterdam

2011-03-30T14:14:00.002+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Toyfriend by DAVID GUETTA

I am moving to amsterdam after spending 2.5 years in Munich. Believe me - apartment or flatshare is hell of a challenge. It's tough!!
Stay tuned, i will be writing alot

Twitter, Facebook, linked in, etc

2011-01-30T13:12:00.002Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Run by Snow Patrol

Social media confuses me these days: i have an account with Twitter, Facebook, Linked In, etc... and I dont know which one to update. If you look at all of them- they all have different status updates but that doesnt mean that I have split personalities! Thank goodness i got rid of myspace before that confuses me further....

have a nice weekend peeps xx

Hello, I am back. how are you??

2011-01-30T00:02:00.001Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Single Girls by Lauren Jansen

Just in case you are wondering, i have decided to revive my blog. Stay Tuned

and i have a handbag blog at lynnalice.blogspot.com

yes i am a handbag designer!!

:)

I once saw a rainbow

2009-08-11T23:58:00.006+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Almost lover by A Fine Frenzy

I once believed in fairy tales, that a tale was indeed a metaphor of reality and happiness was not just a story. They all could be real.

Then I looked in the mirror, that this wretched girl was not a princess but an ordinary girl. Less average than any ordinary girl.

There were no horse carriages, no glass slippers, no castles in the clouds. There were no birds singing and there were no animals who could speak.

The only thing that was real was love. And I do love. I am a good person. And because I am unable to hurt anyone else, I am only capable of hurting myself. Without the knowledge that I may be hurting others- which is my fault.

So my Prince gave up hope. When I believed that true love was all about never giving up on the people you love the most.

As he is peacefully asleep, I lie tearfully awake with a broken heart looking up to the sky.

A part of me tells me that life no longer has any meaning. When my heart has every capacity to love but been broken too many times by those I love the most. They lose hope in me but never in their past.

Maybe I was wrong because i loved unconditionally.

And I would gently ask that by all natural causes:

may I sleep happily ever after.

Moving On

2009-05-31T11:41:00.009+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: You Can't Steal My Love by MANDO DIAO

Everything is alright now. I am so relieved to learn that terrible things do happen for a reason.

Because when life gets better, it does justify the hell one goes through. Sound cliched but true. I can testify that in the course of the past few months all that doom I once believed can inevitably evaporate overnight.

If you had told me this 6 months ago, I would have screamed bollocks. But back then I was a mere cripple: I was unable to digest the notion of hope and I only made it worse by condeminng myself.

Things changed, though gradually but the pain has now long gone. Not that I tried to do anything else except wallow, but things just happen. Chances. Only God knows who planned it.

And I want you to believe that it is true that no matter how thick the cloud, it always has a silver lining. As a child I held close to this in every trying situation till I reached my teens when things just didn't go the way I wanted.

Approaching 26 I realized such a saying is attainable because all it takes is to never kill a good heart.

It is a warm Sunday, summer has finally arrived in Germany and I am typing this with a puppy sleeping on my lap. I am waiting to skype my family back home. Andy will be back in Munich tomorrow just in time for dinner. On Tuesday I will return to office with newfound self esteem knowing that the company has promoted me to a permanent basis-

which means I will leave home.

Someone is looking over me, and will always look over me in the new phase ahead. This is one of those days when you reminisce how far you have come and that life can be beautiful.

At the end of the day, it is all about learning how to trust again.

Love Lockdown

2009-01-18T16:49:00.011Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Chasing Pavements by ADELE

I have no strength to write. But yet I want to tell you something.

This is the only available online excerpt I have but it is without English subtitles. Anyhow if you watch it you can more or less understand what is going on.

Cabiria is a kind hearted prostitute who falls in love with a man and drops everything just to marry him. She has sold off her house and all her belongings to pay for her wedding in Rome.

The scene above depicts when she meets him to pass on the money for their wedding. She is happy and excited. He turns cold. She then realises, to her horror, that he has an ulterior motive to push her off the cliff and take her money. In her despair she begs him to kill her as she cannot face the brutality of her shattered fairytale.

He never loved her.

This is a scene from Closer. An empathetic sequence when one breaks the dreadful news to the other.

And it relates to this other scene. One's selfishness can hurt the other beyond belief.

Cabiria now walks the road alone after having lost the man she loved, her belongings and home. She has nowhere to go. A group of carefree youths walk by and tries to cheer her up. She struggles to smile amidst being grief stricken.

At the very end of the sequence, she eventually acknowledges the existence of hope. And that she will be alright.

Why such videos? Because all these best describe what I went through, and still going through. It may be annoying to you, but perhaps you do not have the slightest idea of how difficult this is for me.

How can you ever recover knowing that you were perceived just as a dying prostitute to the one man you ever loved? It will haunt you.

I am only human.

Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind

2008-12-10T18:42:00.014Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Nuotando Nell'aria by Marlene Kuntz

Dear friends,

You might have stumbled onto this site because you were concerned. Or curious. And I do appreciate you being here. During the time when I returned from my studies in Perugia till the time when I first moved to Munich for a great job, I have abandoned this site briefly because I didn't have much to write.

But who would have thought that now I would be hanging on to this for dear life.

My decision to suspend my Facebook account is to give me interim. I know that cutting off from a network may come across as offensive to some, but I just want to let you all know that I do care. This is something that has to be done even if it is against my initial will.

I am sorry for everything.

It is only best for everyone. And I know good friends will always find a way to connect to me somehow. I am sorry that I have to be selfish.

The past 5 weeks was pivotal. There is also so much that I wish I could share with you, but what you know about what really happened with Gio was only 70% of the whole story. As for the rest, I can only tell you in the form of a bittersweet film.

Which is why some of you may wonder why I can't get over it. And fretting as to why I am carrying so much of emotional burden. And perplexed as to why I am punishing myself.

"Why can't this girl put herself together? It's so trivial!"

I know that for as long as I remained online, I would seek him. Even though I know fully well that he is free to connect with his past loves, it somehow hurts me so bad. I have done everything possible to curb my self destructive trail, but nothing could calm my god forsaken heart.

Because she truly is beautiful. And I am not.

This should never be surprising. I have lost many men in my life and I have been rejected more times than you can imagine, so why should this be any different?

Because I loved him. I wanted to marry him. He thought of marrying me. We wanted kids together. He was the man who showed me that happiness is nothing equivalent to buying a Porsche. And all that we needed was just each other; I didn't need all the material comfort I was showered with from birth. I could abandon all my luxuries because loving him was so simple and pure.

My happiness was him. And because of him, I knew love was happiness.

Within the turn of two years he had hurt me. He chose to give up my love so that he could give his love to another girl. And now I can barely accept that I will ever be good enough for anyone whom I will be able to fall in love with. I have, pretty officially, morphed into a wreck.

At this point, Gio is no longer the enemy. My biggest enemy would be myself.

My friends and family have stood by me from the very beginning. But there will also come a time when i will have to walk this journey alone. It is indeed a very long road ahead for girl who once believed that she could overcome every obstacle that came her way.

Life is never always rosy. Loss is something that is permanent, and can never be replaced. Just like death.

It is now time for me to fight the rest of the battle on my own in every route to recovery. Please understand that it is now crucial for me to abandon my online presence in the meantime so that I can feel what is truly real, and not imagined.

This trauma is equivalent to that of cancer. You can always battle a tumor but it is also something where one can never recover fully but is able to triumph with time. It is never always physically, but often mentally.

Trust me, this is something I know very well. I have to fight for my life.

It all takes courage. I vow to seek the smiling girl who once left on a plane to Malaga in 2004, without a care in the world. She would be happy, and never burdened.

God willing that I will return into your lives one day.

Lots of love and God bless,
Lyn xxx

This, too, will pass.. hopefully.

2008-11-30T01:07:00.005Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Male in Povere by AFTERHOURS

Before I leave for the Malaga TV Market and London tomorrow, I want to let you know that the past four weeks I have dealt with a traitor, a harlot, an undertaker and a maniac.

You wonder how much one can take? Honestly I don't know. I have seen courageous people overcoming the greatest odds and earthquakes. Frankly I used to believe that I could be one of them, but as you can see; it only takes the loss of one man to trigger a series of shipwrecks on me.

As if the breakup was not dramatic enough, I had to face off several equally traumatizing events which I wish I could put them down here on this column.

But I was told that I shouldn't. Due to legal reasons. Even though writing is serious therapy for me. But damn those rumor mongers; they even robbed my only peace of mind.

I lost the man I love, and now I am left to deal with a psycho. Alone.

I need my family. They are my only love.

I love my friends too, but I cannot bring myself to impose onto them.

I know things could be worse, and I pray that it wouldn't. But I must admit that the constant accumulation of trauma tears my heart. There were times I couldn't connect to it. There were times I prayed for divine intervention.

This emo drive is so unlike me. But I can't lie about my melancholy. I just can't bring myself to deny sadness and write you a happy post. That will just come across as, so, FAKE.

Why, and what have I done wrong? This is really not so bad but why do I feel so bad?

My health is suffering. Please, I pray, don't let anything else get any worse.

I even decided to suspend my job promotion.

This, too, will pass

2008-11-27T23:11:00.004Z

Crooning on my STEREO: What A Wonderful World by BOB SINCLAR ft Axwell

From the choice of song I reckon i am getting better. I bought the 2009 MOS Annual and I realized that - I have Ibiza and Bob Sinclar to look forward to. I have always wanted to do this before I turn 28 (freaking 3 years from now) and I really shouldn't complain.

Ok I do get my fits about Gio. I miss him like hell.
But I am annoyed at several things so that keeps me distracted from reeling about the whole catastrophe. Obviously I wouldn't tell you everything here, in case some lame psychotic ass would take it word for word and say,"ohhhh Lynnn you lied to me and you are soooo immature. I know the real youuuuu" I am already dealing with a classic example of that type of loser who is spreading lies about me right here in Munich.

Best thing is, I have nothing to do with this insecure and deluded pest. I hardly even know him.

I stalk Il DiVO. YES. Claro Que Si. Doh.

I stalk him? Eeww. L A M E. I did feel sorry for him but there's a line when things go out of hand. Especially if it threatens to affect me professionally.

The next rumor that lands on my table will bring about a surprise. He will probably read this special mention since he is stalking me anyway. Ah, the bitter price of fame.

See? I got 20% of my self esteem back.

Then there's the arduous decision between the car and the dog as a micro attempt next year to replace Gio. Here's the drift:-

The Material Investment: Car
Pros: Looks cool. Something to brag. Good for avoiding freezing your butt off during winter. No U-Bahn MVGs to harass you on tickets. I can drive to Salzburg. I can park in front of clubs.
Cons: 36 month repayment scheme for a first hand. Left hand drive. Not cheap.

The Emotional Investment: Dog
Pros: They are better than men. They really make you happy. I can bring him to work too. And I live opposite a park thats as big as Oxford.
Cons: My work travels. I am usually away for a week so who's going to care for the poor dear? And if he dies I wouldn't want to go through this sorrowful stage again and flood you with depressive posts.

I am trying to choose one of the two as a mode to get down to earth. Help me out and give me your votes now!

Moving On

2008-11-25T18:59:00.002Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Quiero Ser by AMAIA MONTERO

People, listen to my woes.

Ever since I have been dropped into that pile of shit; I have deteriorated in looks, social skills, zest and wit. I probably stink. I am now fat. I throw myself into work, I obsess over emails and I have to knock down at least 500ml of alco just calm my nerves every evening.

I am turning into a wreck.

Best thing is, he doesn't even know it. He doesn't care. He is probably making love to her as I speak.

Oh god. Eww.

That makes me sick in the day. Then it makes me cry in the night. Really, I can't bloody get over it. So I reckon the temporary relief is to either get very drunk, pass out and pray I will never have to wake up in 5 hours. Even his friends have disappeared.

Wishful thinking, I am now back from Barcelona and nothing of that self pity has changed. I am still the same. So you will have to tolerate at least another 5 depressing blog posts here.

I told you, this is hard. On the bright side, I found almost everything else easier. I could even ring DHL in German and get them to redirect my box of figure skates. Hoo-Hah.

So yeah, I will never have to speak Italian again. Unless I am dealing with RAI which fortunately there is no need to. They are run by women and they don't like dealing with women.

I got my blackberry back today. It is still cracked. Nothing has changed.

So now I am back to square one. Everybody else is inspiring me to ridicule stupid men and continue to live.

Yes I bloody hell can.

Day 5 After The Storm

2008-11-20T20:26:00.004Z

Crooning on my STEREO: If I Were A Boy by BEYONCE

I dreamt of him with her again last night. When will this ever end?

It has been 7 days since the storm, and fuck it still feels like it happened yesterday. It hurts. So bad.

After all that he has done, I still miss him. so much.

Oh God. Help me.

Day 3 After The Storm

2008-11-17T21:33:00.002Z

Crooning on my STEREO: All Cried Out by ALLURE

Mum is here with me today, so it is alright. When you have someone minding you after work hours and nagging at the flat, i guess it distracts me quite a bit. I hate to say that when I was out shopping with her just now, I passed by the perfume shop and I had a glance at Moschino Friends. That familiar scent.

Now, it rings a bell as to why he finished that bottle I bought him in March. That was hardly 7 months ago. And I knew he could keep a small bottle for years.

He was using it with her. Even the shower gel. The aftershave.

See? I can't get over it. All these little details are sinking in. It drives me nuts. He's got a nice new jacket. He shopped it with her. He has got a new pair of trendy eye glasses. He shopped it with her. And he lost weight.

And he looked so good just two weeks ago.

It is probably because of her.

I can't stop whining. And so i thought it may be best if someone got me a photo of her so that I am convinced that she is ugly. I swear I will shut up.

Betrayal is a bitch. Schlampe. And it is winter. So I have decided to enrol for ski lessons in January. I have got my skis, boots except the sticks. I am going to dig winter sports. My loyal figure ice skates are on the way from KL to Munich via Fedex. My lovely friends are encouraging me to go out again. I am hoping to get a car by next winter, and my calculations tells me that getting a Porsche in Bavaria is a better long term bet than a BMW.

Even work is empathizing with me. My promotion occurred at the same time as the crisis. Consequently they revealed my 2009 business travel agenda which consist of almost everywhere except Italy. Thank god for that.

Some say that at 25, I have the whole world in front of me.

But I am struggling to smile. It is hard.

What is happiness when you have lost the one you love for eternity? A porsche can never replace that.

Day 2 After The Storm

2008-11-16T11:16:00.003Z

Crooning on my STEREO: White Flag by DIDO

I managed some sleep last night for a change. I cooked for my work colleagues and we had alot of booze, which is often a good thing. I passed out on my sofa, and I am so gonna sleep there from now on. I have to leave that damp bed alone for now.

Progress is always a good sign. Of course I sill feel incredibly shit in the mornings; often upon the realization that I will never wake up beside him again in this life. And there is often the pain of visualizing him with her instead of me.

Till today I still have not heard from him. And that kind of hurts.

Long distance killed the relationship between us, but she and him are now together and will be together without the distance. I know he can be good without the distance.

Till now, as I should be angry, I still find it hard to accept. The whole scenario is sinking in and I tend to blame myself. It is utterly stupid, i know. My mind kept analyzing the conversation when I begged him to take me back because I know we could work things out with the baby. But he kept pushing me away. I should have read the signs that he did not want to tell me that he was already with another girl in Perugia.

A bloody pain I know. I rearranged the furniture in my flat today. I got an extended contract and a promotion at work. Since I will be staying around for quite some time in Germany I thought of 3 things I could do to momentarily ease the pain and regain a little self esteem:-

1) Buy a dog
or

2) Buy a BMW
or

3) Internet Dating

I have never tried the third one but I reckon meeting odd people might be amusing enough to keep me off the relationship radar.

Yes, I have changed.

After the storm

2008-11-15T05:29:00.006Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Don't Speak by NO DOUBT

It is 6:30 AM on a Saturday.

And I haven't slept. Even though I am exhausted. Well, I kind of did for about 2 hours till I woke up at 2 am and I am just unable to will myself back to sleep. I tried counting sheep. I tried reading Pushkin. I surfed German TV. I am tempted to do laps but the pool is not open.

And so I blog. It is my way of dealing with this. I live alone in a flat. I often imagined him and the other girl, and how they were together on halloween night just the day before I arrived happily in Rome to meet him for the first time in 6 months. Then I imagined how they went to the movies the day after I left Perugia as a carefree girl full of hope.

As I said, it is not easy. I have had it very tough the past week.

And I thought that only death could bring me this much sorrow. Sometimes I wish I could kid about this.

I must admit that I listened to "From the Bottom of my Broken Heart" on loop.

Well, if Britney can bounce back from the slumps and now looking so bloody hot in her vid, I guess I CAN!

ok, ignore the bit above. You might use it to inciminate me :) Grow up, people.

Things happen for a reason. Though I am on the brink of emotional death, what amazes me is the amount of friends and support who turned up at the very first sign of help. Yes, Facebook. And Yes, right here on my blog.

Because I would never have the guts to call anyone and cry. I am an introvert. I could try but I even lack the strength to, even, talk. I just cry, and cry, and cry.

I received calls, notes and messages of encouragement from so many people near and far. And although I am unable to respond, I have read each and every single one of them during my sleepless 3 nights. They all touched me in different ways, and I will always remember who you are. I want to thank each and everyone of you for being there, because your words give me strength to take baby steps to move on.

When dealing with grief, I used to be very afraid of myself because there were times that I couldn't control myself. But this time, with all the support I had, I refrained from my usual habit of hurting myself. Technically you all saved my life.

And I do not regret posting the lurid details on my phone conversation with Gio on this blog. Yes, it is blatant. And yes, it could be embarrassing. And yes it can be so tabloid.

But it is real.

I cannot deny the truth though I wish I could. The only lie is the fact that I have never cheated on him though I claimed to do so in my final words to him. This is the least you can do to gain a little credibility from the biggest betrayal.

Pursuant to that blatant post, many were able to empathize with the extent of the hurt. It also prompted several friends who wrote to me, and shared their personal experiences. Even though I didn't feel alone, It is somewhat sad for me to know that there are so many good people who have been betrayed in some way of the other.

But the best part of all is that the post had also reached out to those who are also going through the same pain in silence. As a result i have become very protective of these people, and of my own feelings.

All I can say is that NOBODY deserves to go through this painful end. Not even Gio for what he did to me. Yes, he may be a prick, but I just want him to painfully regret losing me for all his life.

My message to everyone out there is this: Protect your feelings. Love yourself AND others. Never cheat on your loved ones. And if you fall out of love, TELL THEM. Don't ever betray them.

They are so simple, yet constantly abused.

Even in marriage.

CLOSURE

2008-11-13T20:04:00.004Z

Crooning on my STEREO: FUCK U RIGHT BACK by FRANKEE

So, here's bringing you the next episode in the this amazingly dramatic fuck of a hell break up drama....

Read on, it just gets better.

24 hours ago, I pined for his love, his return and called him while BEGGING him to take me back. Yes for three days in the running I was devastated, undignified, cried a gallon and slept with the slightest assurance that, 'ok maybe he will come back to me....'

That proved to be stupid thinking.

That changed 3 hours ago. I had a piercing feeling that one cannot break off from a 2 year relationship just by saying.. 'oh I like you alot but this is for your own good... we just cannot be together.'

I dont buy the fact that two people can't be together because one cares too much about the other. Doesn't make sense, right? If two people are in love, anything goes. I mean, really, I just don't buy the whole scenario. The additional scenario I didn't mention in the previous post is that he is breaking up with me because he found out that he had a 6 year old illegitimate child in America.

That was a complicated possibility that we have always discussed very early on in our relationship and of course I accepted it because I loved him. So when the confirmation came, I was sad but ok with his decision to go off to the States. But he kept wanting to break off with me.

Also it makes no sense to dump your girlfriend for a child, right?

Because nothing made sense, I knew there was more to this havoc reasoning. He kept telling me he was not good for me but never really stated why.

So I called him at 6:45pm today. He was in Naples. I had a framework in my mind that goes by saying, 'Gio, someone told me that you found someone else.. tell me if this is true?' I had to put on some crocodile tears.. I must admit that Method Acting comes in pretty handy.

Here's the convo (translated into from Italian to English):

Lyn: Sayang, have you got a minute?
Gio: Si, si....
Lyn: Be true to me.. behind all this.. are you with somebody?
Gio: No, why do you say this?
Lyn: Someone told me. And since this is the last time we will speak, you must be truthful to me.
Gio: No, WHO TOLD YOU THIS?
Lyn: Gio, I know. (pauses) Tell me.

(pause)

Gio: Yes.

(pause) At this point, Lyn was in total shock.

Lyn: why?
GIo: I am sorry.
Lyn: No you are not.
Gio: Thats why i think it is better to finish with you, I can't keep hurting you.
Lyn: I knew this was true. It was not just the child. It was not just the long distance. (pauses) You found somebody else.

Gio: Si.
Lyn: Ok. (I am going to explode)
(pause)
Gio: I am sorry.
Lyn: Is she beautiful?
Gio: Why do you ask this?
Lyn: Tell me, is she beautiful?

(pause)
Gio: Yes.

Lyn: oh god.. (really, this point was pivotal, my loved for him died)
Gio: I am sorry.
Lyn: More beautiful than me?

(silence. He couldn't answer)

Lyn: When did you meet her?
Gio: September.
Lyn: And are you with her now?
Gio: Yes.
Lyn: oh my god..
Gio: I am sorry. That's why I have to break up with you. It's for your own good.
Lyn: I fucking hell moved to Munich for you.
Gio: I know. But we will not be together.... it is still far.
(pauses)
Lyn: Is she Italian? Where is she from?
Gio: Germany.
Lyn: FUCK....
Gio: I am sorry.

Lyn: And you fucking hell said NOTHING to me when I was with you in Perugia last week? I came all the way for you because I loved you!
Gio: But I did tell you not to come...
Lyn: But you never told me why?!!?
Gio: I know, I am sorry. I just didn't want to hurt you.
Lyn: And on that day you told me you will come to me in Munich and you told me that I am your love ?!!??!!?
Gio: I know, I was happy but..
Lyn: And you were fucking her the night before on OUR bed.
Gio: Don't say this. She was never in my bed.
Lyn: Then WHERE?
Gio: I was always at her house.

Lyn: And you were fucking her when you told me you have to work late nights. You WENT to the movies with her, you went shopping with her and you told me you were going to Luigi's house when in fact you were drinking and fucking her...
Gio: no..

Lyn: And you were MAKING LOVE to her during those nights when I sent you text messages at night and YOU NEVER REPLIED. And I cried throughout those nights because I thought that you forgot about me.
Gio: I am sorry Lyn...
(pause)
Lyn: oh god, I don't know what to do. I feel sick.
Gio: Me too.
Lyn: You were with her from September and yet you sent me messages telling me you missed and loved me.
Gio: I did love you.
Lyn: I don't believe any shit from you. anymore. I can't talk anymore.
Gio: I am sorry Lyn, I am not the guy you want, I am like this and I cannot change. You are far away and I can't do anything.
Lyn: Go fuck her tonight.
Gio: Sayang, stop this;
Lyn: Yes, go. You have her. She is beautiful. And you have a kid somewhere else good luck,

---------------------------
I slammed the phone down. But somehow I felt that needed to get back at him. So I rang him again.

By the way, I fucked someone on your BIRTHDAY.
And he is just like you.

For once, he was very, very pissed off.

That did the trick even though it was half-true.

Thank you for taking 2 years worth of my love for granted. I knew he could be a good person, I believed in him, I trusted him and I had faith in him.

Note the past tense.

BUT FUCK YOU. I AM GOING OUT TONIGHT.

Grief.

2008-11-12T22:32:00.005Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Angel by SARAH MCLACHLAN

Perhaps one of the hardest things to grasp is an occasion beyond your control. Yesterday I experienced something called grief.

Great grief. It is almost similar to how you feel when a loved one passes away.

I used to think that grief is overrated. But until I had it crawl into my heart yesterday, that’s when I felt really sad. It is sadder than anything that I have experienced in my sheltered life. It paralyses your ability to reason, to smile, and most importantly, to move on. I think it made me stupid.

Prior to this, I never fully understood the grief that people go through when they get dumped. I used to think and get annoyed with a few people: why on earth do you cry on and on and on and on? Drink and forget your problems!!

Until yesterday, I understood fully that no amount of drinking will ever restore your strength to climb out of that damp bed and leave that tear-soaked pillow alone. You are remotely lucky if you are even able to fall asleep for 10 minutes. I haven’t slept in 2 days.

To find a way around this enemy called grief, I will be upfront with you.

Giovanni, the man whom I loved deeply for two years, has left me for good. And the breakup wasn’t executed in the most conventional method where, boy cheats on girl, girl finds out, boy freaks out, girl leaves him, boy chases her, girl cheats on him, and boy breaks up with her.

Honestly, that would have been much easier for me to deal with.

Mine is a little more complicated, and it ended on a terrifying manner. So terrifying that after I made that dreaded phone call to him from the office, I came back shivering at my desk while I should be excited at a 6 digit deal waving at me from my computer screen. At that point, something inert in me had died and I pretty much knew that my life would change. I was (and am) not my usual self.

Friends knew how much I loved him. Perhaps a little too excessively as with any first love. Like most mortals, I have made mistakes with myself and with him. I fault him when he didn’t do any wrong. And he was aloof when my feelings were hurt. That’s when the equation called ‘love’ went wrong.

I met him in Perugia , when I was serving a study scholarship of 3 months. He was the housemate of my fellow compatriots, and it was love at first sight. Two months later, it was his brother’s birthday. We all went. He was drunk. I fancied him. And it started from there. It was perfect at the beginning because he did all he could to court me. Even when he was financially tight he scraped to take me out, surprised me, lit candles for me, cooked for me and used his savings to buy me a necklace for Xmas which he believed reflected the color of my eyes. No man has ever done that for me. Early on I admitted that I was falling in love with him quite deeply.

He was going to be my first boyfriend. And he called me his girlfriend.

All that happened barely a month before I was due to leave for my home country for good. We had a tearful goodbye where I spent the final night at his place, and did the tragic parting scene where he kissed me goodbye and left. 5 minutes later he came back again to do the unbearable farewell. While I thought we would part forever, he promised that he will wait for me despite the uncertainty. And he did.

And so, we embarked on this dreadful and expensive mode of relationship: Long Distance.

I was fortunate to have generous parents and a job that allowed me to travel. I had opportunities to go to him, to relive those beautiful days when we would just stay close together, watch movies, cook lasagna, eat pizza takeaways, drink and to do all the things that lovers do.

I love the kitchen at his place, he is a marvelous cook, did all the hard work while I just watch MTV Italia waiting to be served. Then the house tortoise would peek into the kitchen door and we had to shove him out again. Even if it is just 3 days or 1 week.. they were simply the happiest moments of my life. From the photos we took, the days with him were always, always sunny.

But these brief moments of love were also the triggers of some the saddest moments of my life. I would move into a mode of depression whenever I had part with him. I usually felt very down, and most people didn’t understand why. And because of that I felt alone. Friends fell out with me because they simply didn't understand.

During those interims of encounters we had a god sent device called Skype. And I remember those tender moments when we spoke till I would gradually fall asleep. The next morning when I would wake up for work with a loving feeling in my heart.

There were also times when we couldn't speak on skype due to the time difference, his text messages were brief and rare. Thats when I felt that I was losing him. I became desperate. And I became angry. And I verbally attacked him on more than occasions.

Gradually things deteriorated. He took a job at a local cafe which was full time. Our phone conversations became rare. And text messages were brief. And I became aggressive, manic and upset.

I made it a habit to threaten to leave him several times in order to get his attention. I never intended it but I was often assured that he would say something that he does not want to end and that he wants to stay with me. I knew i was selfish, but i wanted that assurance. However, who would have known that this habit would eventually be fatal.

I eventually took a job in Munich to be closer to him. I knew things would be better and that we could see each other more often. I thought it would be feasible in the long run. But of course my sacrifices would be to move to a country alone where I have never been to, without knowing the language and to leave my family and friends. But he inspired me that I could take that challenge.

So I moved. Adapted there. Three months into my stay he still had not made plans to come to see me. Family and friends were pressuring me that something was wrong. So, on a night when he did not reply to my messages, I became aggressive, threatening and angry once again. As always he would often assure me that things were ok.

On the 25th of October. I made a trip to Rome to see him on a surprise. And he was happy. So was I. And he told me that he loved me. I believed him and I felt an assured hope that we will be okay together. And he promised he would see me towards the end of November. I was so relieved, contented and most of all, hopeful.

However, on the 11th of November, he wrote to say that he will be going back to his hometown on the week he was supposed to see me. I was hugely disappointed because a promise was made and then broken. It didn't come across as important to him and I, again, turned hugely aggressive. I sent him hurtful text messages throughout the night, and his lack of response only made me more angry. And sad.

Yesterday, I received a text from him that he wanted things to be over. It broke me. So I rang him from the office in every hope that maybe things could be saved. But he wasn't swayed. He told me the actual reason, which, turned my blood cold.

And I can't write it here. I wish I could but i would respect his privacy.

But it was something that broke me. He then went on to say that he couldn't see a future with me and I shouldn't try to come to him. Even if i got a job in italy, he told me he would be somewhere else.

That broke me into pieces.

I was shocked. And if only I could describe the sharp pain across my chest and his sudden motive to get rid of me out of his life, I was shattered. And shocked at the other reason which I could not write here. It was too much for me, I became a wreck and perhaps I could have done something drastic had I not been in the office.

And the sad thing is, we were so happy just the week before. Now it has taken a 180 degree turn and I don't know why. He refused to say that he loves me when he just did a week ago. That very night we spoke for the final time, he made the decision and I was out of his life. Eventhough it was against my will and I did want to try to continue. He didn't buy it and he was intent to break up with me. I also saw him cry for the first time.

He said it would be better for me which was the most common excuse for all breakups. I was, to him, like any other girl. Any other ex. I have joined the alumni.

And i somehow I feel, with that unspoken burden of his, he will go back to a particular American girl.

And the saddest thing is, had we stayed on, we could have made it to our 2 years next week.

I haven't heard from him since. I don't know what to do and I feel lost, shocked and afraid. Absolutely lost and far away from home. I can't write this anymore because it breaks my heart.

He has left me alone to deal with grief. This immense grief that is so painful beyond words. I wish he knew. I hope you will understand too.

VAFUNCULO

2008-11-10T19:52:00.003Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Universo by CRISTINA DONNA

oh hello. I reckon you read my blog. sometimes

but you see. I am drunk. And I will update my blog in this manner because I am more interesting when i am drunk. It is kinda cool and true. yeah. whatever.

so yeah. some of you may work with me. and some of you may, kinda, know me. oh well, whatever.

so yeah, again. I will tell you about myself. I am 25. I am working in munich. I don't speak good german. but neither do I speak any other languages that well. god knows why I was hired. though i know i am freaking good at what i do.

but i am kinda useless anyway, whatever.

but you see. my boyfriend dumped me. And i became an alcoholic. hold on, I have always been one. So thats why he dumped me. no, i am not hot. i have a big bum and no boob.

thats ok. i was never hot to begin with. then there were many guys who dumped me. so i got used to it. because i think i am kinda too cool for them.

ok. I am drunk. whatever. but you know i am still cool. as in, I wont abandon you and I will prevent you from falling into the darkness. i am a good friend unless you screw me behind my back.

ho ho ho ho.

so is anyone coming with me to the Cologne festival in February? like, seriously.

Good night

2008-10-20T22:57:00.001+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Warwick Avenue by DUFFY

When your heart stops beating you know you can finally sleep in peace.

WIESN HITS!!!!!

2008-10-03T16:15:00.004+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Back On The Road by MADCON ft PAPERBOYS

Life is pretty darn odd actually, I think it has a lot to do with what's predestined by the above, though I have absolutely no idea what is the ordain or who is the planner nor why things should be fated in a certain way. So, yeah, a lot of things totally don't make sense like what I have just blabbered and somehow we are programmed to survive.

So now you hear from me. I was thrown out of my comfort zone in the last two months, and what seemed like a carefree lifestyle somewhat turned haywire. Again, I had to say goodbye to the people I love most; my family. That's really tough but I know I would do them proud. I got a credible job solely through the strength of my skills and my CV, which meant there is so much ahead for me and God willing my visa will be ok.

This is the odd part:

Some of you who have known me long enough can testify that I hate MICHAEL SCHUMACHER more than the kitchen rat, and who would have known that I had to make a sudden move to Deutschland- a country I had never previously set foot in.

And who would have also known that I would grow into loving this place. I have dreamt of other places, but certain NOT Germany, but yet I can't help but to feel that I could actually live here. My German is lousy and yet people understood what I meant. Wow, thats totally FATED.

I have made more wonderful friends in a month here than I ever did in 4 years in Britain. Now that's great.

However I have also learnt about reciprocation. There are some people who will do anything for you. They will do anything to win your heart, believing that perhaps you feel the same way too. Their immense faith overwhelms you, and you actually get freaked out.

And there are also some people who will blatantly hurt you and leave you. There are just too many beautiful people around, so they have the right to choose. Frankly I would rather have their sausages cut off.

I thought I had always been acquainted with such, but to experience these two scenarios first hand gave me a clear conscience never to hurt anybody unless they have hurt me. At the end of the day, I often seek shelter with those who have always, loved me.

I should have learnt these things at high school.

Sure thing. OKTOBERFEST is such a great source of education. I could be living some of the best times of my life.

Bis Bald Babyyyyyy!!!

2008-08-16T05:01:00.002+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO:

Everything is just totally weird, happening too fast and wow. The visa that took 200 months, the draftingcontract that overran 2 months and the manic packing that took 2.5 days.

Since I am scrambling for precious time, I can only keep this short and sweet.

Here's my new home for now:-

This is totally WEIRD!!!!

Vodka and Tears

2008-07-17T19:23:00.007+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Baby Mine by BETTE MIDLER

When was the last time you bawled your eyes out?

Firstly, its the long distance trauma which nobody empathizes with the amount of crap I have to endure for the past 2 years.

Bloody hell. Now here's the film which I CANNOT make myself watch because it just makes me bawl and bawl and bawl:

OH MY GOD can someone REMIND ME NEVER TO TAKE VODKA? Surely it makes sense as to why the Russians take it on a daily basis.

You may be surprised to learn that I have FEELINGS too. HUMAN EMOTIONS that is. Surprise Surprise. At this rate, I can CRY till kingdom come. It better NOT KILL ME, dude.

May the good Lord save me.

Celebrity, Get Me Outta Here!!

2008-07-14T10:26:00.004+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Stop and Stare by ONE REPUBLIC

By now, we have all heard that Malaysians are in the midst of exile from entering Britain sans Visa despite being a Commonwealth compatriot. Now our colonial Motherland is contemplating on making our lives a little EASIER; ie. by making us fill in 20 pages of forms, submitting 10 copies of photographs, queuing up at the very friendly embassy and having to fork out a hefty processing fee in POUNDS for every application. (1 quid = 7 Ringgit Malaysia)

With all my dignity I REFUSE to be treated as a 4th world national.

My heart reaches out to those who have never taken a photo in front of the structural BIG BEN. With the impending Visa rule, they will probably never have the chance to do so. So let's go Paris instead.

You can read my view that was published on a local daily paper here.

But even Paris will not suffice sans Visa. Because if the UK regulation does take effect, there is a likelihood that the entire EU will follow suit. I am just hoping that this is just a shock propaganda to scare the idiots outta the country.

I am not surprised why we are condemned to such immigration torture. There are plenty of IDIOTS (Malaysians, I am embarassed to say) who are overstaying in the UK. In other words, there's a suspected bundle of illegal immigrants from MALAYSIA. There are students who enter Britain with a student visa when they have no intention of coming home, EVER. I know exactly who they are and, oh, how I wish I can report those.

Okay I don't get it. If you bloody hell want WORK in the UK, what the hell are you working as a KITCHEN HAND in Euston? You can be just that in Malaysia. If you can be bloody hell be a waitress, why is it more painful to do just that in Malaysia??

I know, I know. You want a better life.

DOES LIVING IN THE COLD GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?? DOES HAVING NO RECOURSE TO PUBLIC FUNDS GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE?? DOES HIDING FROM IMMIGRATION OFFICIALS GIVE YOU A BETTER LIFE??

Don't be a dumbass. Even if you marry your local butcher in every hope of getting a PR, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE SOCIALLY REGARDED AS A FOREIGNER. Get that? There is no glamour in that. Your mother in law may adore you but your neighbours will be bitching about you.

Then you will say.. well, my children will have a better life in the UK...

YOU CHILDREN WILL NOT THANK YOU FOR THAT. IN FACT, AT ANY POINT OF THEIR LIVES THEY WILL FORGET THEIR ROOTS AND BLARDY HELL BLAME YOU FOR IT.

Some will say, yeah... but Malaysia has no hope, no chance of advancement, blah blah...

This also applies to legal migrants. You are so naive. If you want to work in Banking in HSBC London, there is a HSBC MALAYSIA too. Ok, you don't earn in pounds. So what? If you prove yourself decent they will surely post you on a deserving branch. London will retrench you any minute due to your immigrant status. Taxes? It's dollar for dollar so just admit its the uniform dog-eat-dog in every industry. If you earn 2000 quid in London is equates to RM2000. Figure that out.

If you want to train as an accountant in a 3rd grade London company, there is an abundance of local firms in KL. Why crowd in a foreign land? It is only logical to think that if you can find jobs in your country, you really do not need to be abroad. You may lust over caucasian boys but please don't be such an anglophile.

A Tip: The best employees start rough back home because they are humble. Trust me, I know.

There is some exception if you are a true and certified specialist in a niche market, ie. the fine arts. Let's face it, there is NO PROFESSIONAL ARTS industry in Malaysia. By all means I encourage you to RUN far away. But if your ambitions only stretches up to film production work then don't fret because there is still a healthy industry in M'sia itself, albeit a racist one. You will live even if you stayed.

MALAYSIA IS NOT A WAR TORN COUNTRY. YES, WE HAVE AN ACTIVE AND SCANDALOUS POLITICAL FRONT. SO WHAT? We need some editorial excitement now and then. I bet you enjoyed reading them too.

WERE YOU STARVING IN MALAYSIA??

Unless you are on Atkins, no one is really deprived of food. Then come home. You really don't need to be there.

25

2008-06-30T07:24:00.007+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Puede Ser by AMAIA MONTERO y EL CANTO DEL LOCO

Although I am itching, itching, itching to.... I have TRIED to refrain from bitching about anyone on this blog till, ermmm, August.

But I can't help it. Because by good old August I would have lost all that bitch inspiration. That would have defeated my fundamental principle of being honest, eh?
---------------------

So here's the story. Sometime ago, at a friend's birthday party, I met a Malaysian Z-list "actress" with a fancy caucasian name and surname. (That was a pseudonym. I later found out that her real name was plain 'Farah,' an equivalent to 'Jane' by western standards)

This scrawny fool tripped over and introduced herself, 'Oh HELLO, I don't know your name but my name is ABC.'

And so I had a rather intelligent conversation with her: (my innermost thoughts are in brackets.)

ABC: Ohhhh, Hello I am an actress.
(she didn't look like one. To be honest)

Me: Oh me too! I WAS an actress. (note the past tense)

ABC: Yeahhh I am can't wait to go to RADA* this October for my MASTERS in Acting!!!
(* RADA is a performing arts institute in Reading, UK- not exactly the best but decent enough for aspiring actresses who can afford the fees.)

Me: Congrats! Good on ya!
(thinks: OMG, so many dumb people are admitted into Masters these days. Unbelievable. Another point to note is that talented actresses don't ACTUALLY do a Masters. They try to get professional jobs..)

ABC: Yeahhh so I guess you studied in UK before eh?? Whats Reading like?? the nightlife??

Me: Reading is very COOL. I know people who get pissed on fancy bars every night there.
(thinks: hahahahahahahaha )

ABC: OMG GOD... REAAAAAAALLLLYYYY???? I am sooooo gonna get my own flat and BRING BOYS HOME!!!

Me: Hell, yeah!!!
(thinks: such a dumbass. *rolls eyes*)

ABC: You know... the thing about my looks is that I only appeal to Americans and Europeans!!! I mean, I can't get good jobs in Malaysia but I know I will succeed abroad!! I once did a program for a Dutch producer*... blah, blah, blah...
(* I later found out that this "Dutch" producer is commissioned by our very own RTM to source cheap local talents for shoestring projects. Not exactly an achievement to brag about.)

Me: Yeah I guess every territorial market has their own set of appeal...
(thinks: but I know you will never fit into any because your nostrils are too big.)

ABC: Sooo you know any agents in London???

Me: Of course I do. What type? Do you have a showreel? And a black n white headshot without make up?
(thinks: any working "actress" should know these bloody kindergarten prerequisites. DOH.)

ABC looks at me blankly.

And I never gave her my agents' contacts.

You can check out ABC's one and only "head shot" HERE. She is the one with the flashy caucasian fake name and a standard overdone metallic make up. Believe me, just like most M'sian talents, she looks nothing like that in flesh.

One piece of advice: You can get away with that sort of extreme makeover in Malaysia, but international talent agencies will blatantly ask you to scrape all that foundation off.

But by then she would be too hideous to score any big jobs. Ooops.

---------------------

Another reason why I am in such a great mood to bitch is that:

ESPANA ARE NOW EUROPEAN CHAMPIONS!!!!!

You would recognize this towel flag on my gate from two World Cups ago. Yes, I waited THAT long.

And we got what we want because we bloody hell FOUGHT for it....

BRING ON 25!!!!!

Causes that Matter

2008-06-12T11:25:00.011+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Puede Ser by LA OREJA DE VAN GOGH

I am feeling a little panicky because I have a little less than 1.5 months left till work hits me on the head and I have to stress about paperwork, packing and literally pissing. The past 4 sabbatical months (I know, I KEEP taking sabbaticals..) has nailed some sense into the real world. My renewed interest in the cosmos taught me simple LOGIC.

What is interesting is that there is only a small handful of educated people who possess such, and the ones who apply logic everyday are those who never made it to college. This is so awesome.

So let me drill some LOGIC into you: Instead of paying extortionately high prices for theatre tickets (price includes a bonus telling-off from Joe Hasham if, on a rare occasion, you forget to switch off your mobile!!) I urge you to support something else arty which is way less patty, snobbish and high ended.

KELAB SENI FILEM is a club for film lovers, it screens mostly non-commercial titles that you will not normally see at your local cinema. A few months back I met the club's chairperson, Tuck Cheong, an amazing film buff who is humble, approachable and truly knowledgeable. The same goes to the club's committee who are a bunch of very nice people. They have no qualms; they are willing to acquaint with you and will never chase you away even if you don't have an inkling who Rosellini is.

(This is contrary to what we may encounter in the local theatre scene: There are some stage actors who claim that their aloofness is the result of their overwhelming passion for ART. I reason that as self flagellation. )

Time for some fresh air? Click on the link above!

Trust me, if you can sit through 2 hours of No Country For Old Men I can pretty much guarantee that you can sit through almost every film regardless of its genre. Niche, Foreign, Arty, you name it. Come to the theatrette at Help College every Monday!

Second drill of logic today is

Yes. I know we are all so caught up with that nonsensical GLOBAL WARMING IS UPON US- GO GREEN nonsense, but I think it is highly imperative that we should pay attention to nature that is close to us rather than to ring up bombastic plans to save the world. Leave those to the wealthy corporates.

Somewhat I am very convinced that those apocalyptic messages on climate change is a commercial farce anyway, so we might as well rescue the neighborhood dog and cat who would be extremely thankful to you.

I URGE YOU. I AM ON MY KNEES TO BEG YOU TO PLEASE PLEASE SHOW YOUR SUPPORT TO THE CHARITIES BELOW.

WEBSITE

and

WEBSITE

Why? Because I can testify that every little contribution goes a LONG way. IKANO has been hosting a fundraising and adoption drive for these animal shelters since two weeks back, and the coming final week (June 20th -22nd). E-mail or call me for more info!

I have been volunteering since last week and will do so this weekend. I will be eternally grateful if you can drop by and buy a car sticker. Even better if you can bring a pup and a kitten home. You will have a true friend for life.

(Perhaps as a consequence you may even lose faith in humanity because you realize that pups do not have the ability to back stab you. I guess that negativity is plausible because we are surrounded by so many dumb people anyway, hohoho)

Hence don't waste your money on the lame canvas bags and Peter's book!

and even if you prefer to..

do they really thank YOU?

Think LOGIC.

The Politics of Clubbing

2008-06-01T16:54:00.005+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Lullaby by THE CURE

Clubbing was so fun in the past. When I was in London, Malaga, Perugia, or wherever. My definition of having a good time was holding a random drink in the hand, followed by downing deadly cheap shots and passing out thereafter. Dancing, of course, was so fun. Even star jumps was so cool. Vomiting along the streets was not illegal; passing motorists empathized that it was an attractively vulgar thing to do after 5 a.m. You make friends at the kebab shop.

When I returned to good ol' Kuala Lumpur back in late 2005, I was so keen to continue the simple tradition above. To celebrate my homecoming, I had a big fat birthday party at Velvet Underground - a rather costly club that limits their table reservations. My dear parents "lobbied" to get me a membership and an extensive guest list, hence this club became my weekly haunt ever since.

Obviously, I broke my legacy. It was no longer about innocent drinking till the cows came home and running into your neighborhood butcher.

Velvet is an interesting place. My weekly attendance taught me some important lessons about people. I soon created a loyal drinking circle of a few friends and had our little usual table at the "seemingly cool" lounge area. As the weeks went by, our circle expanded.

Let me categorize the type of people you should look out for next Saturday.

1) Long-Lost High School Friends
It is always interesting to reunite with old faces. Even those who never spoke to you back then. But what is more interesting is that despite leaving school in Year 2000, some of these people are still tight buddies with the old bunch they hung out with in the school corridors. Peter is still dating Jane. Jane is still cheating on Peter with John. John is still best friends with Susan. Susan is still hating Kathy. Kathy is still bitching about Susan to Lilly... etc.

2) Plastics
Normally they comprise of several groups of skinny girls who dress very well, holding on to designer clutches. (btw: it is a fashion faux pas to use expensive bags at clubs - cigarette burns are not reversible.) They tend to float around the pre-lounge area in packs of 3 or 4, and they drift from table to table making and greeting friends. They get free alcohol in return. They never say anything intelligent.

3) Hangers-On
They are usually acquaintances whom you don't really know, but yet you see them in your vicinity almost every week. You also see them helping themselves to your alco bottle. Let's just say when the bill for the Chivas comes, they disappear to the dance floor.

4) Networkers
Can be in the guise of Plastics and Hangers-on, except that they make an extreme effort to get to know you. Often starts with a question, 'What do you work as?' and if you impress them they take your number down at the end of the night. They are usually guys who drink a lot, shout into your ear and occasionally flashes a fancy mobile phone.

5) The "IDOL"
Kids with extremely wealthy and famous parents. Despite their real penniless state (their dad funds their clothes and cars) they have masses of friends and networkers worshipping the ground they walk on. However, the "Idol" is also an elusive character who perceives himself as a level above all, hence he isn't exactly the most friendly person you will come across. He will stick together with the other daddy's children of the same status to assert an aura of exclusivity. He normally leaves the club before 2 a.m. He sometimes wears a suit that can be easily confused with the floor manager's.

6) The Social Butterfly
A person with 1000 Facebook contacts, sees you at a club, pecks you left and right and asks HOW ARE YOU? Before you could answer, he/she has moved on to repeat the same sequence to your friend standing next to you. He/she seems to know EVERYBODY but you would see him/her walking to the car park alone at 3a.m.

7) The Sugar Daddy
Usually has a prime table with couches facing the dance floor. He is the odd man in his 50s surrounded by a flank of children in their 20s. Opens a Moet. Has sweaty arm pits.

8) The Lookers
They usually gather around a table next to the DJ Console that is commonly mistaken (or deluded) as a VIP section. These are a bunch of Eurasian or Caucasian men and women who are disgustingly tall and beautiful. They hardly drink. And just for your info, they are out-of-work catwalk models stranded in KL.

Interesting, huh? Let me know if you can spot them this weekend. In case you are wondering if I have any qualms writing this, well, it is okay to make enemies now since it will be Hasta La Vista!!!!!

Global Warming and the Farce

2008-05-25T11:28:00.009+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Fifth of Bethoven by NASSAU

I fell asleep while watching AN INCONVENIENT TRUTH because it was boring, highly self-indulgent and rather kid-dish. It's like watching Al Gore's world-saving tactics for dummies; if there's such a movie ever made, but thats how I perceived the entire propaganda of self pity: I didn't win your votes before hence I want to make you feel REALLY BAD about it, because I am a saint and you didn't know this back then....

That whole farce worked on the masses. I am amazed at how many people have come up to me and said that it was the SCARIEST movie ever made. I thought Candyman was scarier. In fact, eurosleaze shows like MalaBimba is hilarious yet scary because the entire twisted plot was supposedly ochestrated by The Devil. (haha)

So, Al Gore scared you into believing that the world shall end quicker, ie. if you continue to use plastic bags, that sin is going contribute to global warming in some puny way.

There is somebody who capitalized on this herd paranoia. Anya Hindmarch invented those rough canvas bags that shouted "I am not a plastic bag." They are cheap. But limited in quantity. Consequently, thousands of plastics (my definition of dumb girls who queued hours to get themselves one) fought for them, so much so that many fans also bought fake ones at cut throat prices just to fit in.

Mind you, saving the world should not be an exclusive deed. And only goodness knows if these canvas bags were manufactured via fair trade. I don't know how much of the world you can save by replacing 1000 plastic bags with 500 "limited edition" canvas bags.

Ok I was slightly wrong. There was no paranoia. It is merely a FASHION TREND. And trends go out of date. They pass on.

Then I have some well-connected young pals who recently co-edited books on bio-degeneration and going green. Of course they didn't write them entirely. But there were posh autograph sessions and press conferences, and it made me equate such occurrences to nothing but, FAME. As a pure juxtaposition, I don't recall Mother Theresa autographing her books.

At that time, there was also a sudden influx of friends within the same circle who raved, 'hey, i am going green because my friend wrote a book on the greenhouse effect.' And I asked 'what do you know about the green house effect?' And she answered, 'Well, our world is in trouble and we are heating up. Peter wrote that we can make a difference by converting waste into energy'.

And I asked, 'Ok. Do you know that Peter the "author" does not car pool and drives around in a Porsche?'

That didn't bother her nor the expanding circle of Peter's friends. In fact, co-editing those books made Peter a demi-god. He is even getting free alcohol in every club he goes.

What I am trying to say is, there are more ethical ways of expounding doomsday. An Inconvenient Truth is an odd way of threatening moviegoers to invest in a method to save the world by presenting the earth's exaggerated vulnerabilities. Hence many corporations turn such mass induced fears into a business by reinstating their "green" reputation. If you are not naive about the global economy, every "green" or "blue" business plan boils down to money and politics. Hence Peter is selling books to launch his career in his family's business empire.

On a macro scale if you didn't play truant on your science and geography classes, there is also an even greater truth that there is really nothing we can do about this decaying earth.We can only slow it down, but not significantly. Let's face it, we are eventually going to end up like the dinosaurs because we claim to know so much of our earth but nothing about the universe.

Now that I am researching on astro-physics, I can tell you a simple theory. Check out our neighbor VENUS below.

Ancient astronomers assumed that there could be life on Venus because of its component similarities to that of Earth. However, every spacecraft that has tried to enter its atmosphere literally blows up due to huge gravitational changes. Later research shows that it is indeed a big greenhouse. It's quite hot. What caused it? Was there some sort of evolution? We can only speculate.

Then we have our MARTIAN neighbor.

Tonight NASA's little robot Phoenix will enter Mars' atmosphere in search of water and other evidence of bacterial life form, thats if it lands safely. It is a giant red planet, looks a little ugly but very reminiscent of our red dessert. It's quite dead. There could have been life in the past but if there was, what caused their demise? Decomposing plastic bags? Again we don't really know.

Ditto to all of our 10000s of unanswered questions pertaining to the other planets in our solar system. What killed the other planetary life forms, if we were not alone in this vast universe? And on our own grounds, what killed off the dinosaurs? Surely they didn't have factories back then.

Because we do not know. Hence, why are we so consumed by Al Gore's Oscar, canvas bags, Peter's book, switching off all lights in the house for a day because a Facebook group tells you to? So much so that we don't have a global clarity of understanding why we do such things. We do such because the mass media tells us to, but we will soon get bored and forget to switch off the plug.

If only we realize how beautiful our Earth as compared to the other fuzzy planets of outer space, we would be genuinely inspired to do things in respect of Mother Nature. It is simply because Man can never stop a sudden asteroid nor cyclone from devouring us one day. It is a fact that too much irreversible damage has been done to Earth. This is general science:

Every living thing has its life span.

And we do not need consumerism to tell us that. In all honesty, many corporate "green" campaigners impart a sense of deluded hope by presenting a world crisis as a bankable trend. Every hype has its anti climax.

So guys, collectively switching off all the lights in your house for one day just because MTV tells you to do so, isn't really going to make a big difference. You are behaving like an ignorant cult member.

Down Under

2008-05-10T09:04:00.003+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Satisfaction by BENNY BENASSI ft. THE BIZ

Oh man, the manic packing mode is switched on and tonight I am off to the great land of kangaroos and platypuses...

AUSTRALIA!!

I haven't been there in the last 5 years. Are the clubs BETTER now??

well done, UGG.

I will be right back to do more of that navel gazing. And welcome back, Raja Petra!!!

ANTM & The AttacK Of The ExeS.

2008-04-27T14:43:00.006+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Flaunt It by TV Rock Feat. Seany B.

Facebook is a pretty dangerous platform; simply because within the click of button you are able to enable your past to seemingly embrace, or, enrapture you. Well, its pretty cool for some people. I thought it was quite exciting to allow some terrible men of my past to drool over how smoking hot I have become and slap themselves with regret.

But of course, there is also such a thing called backfire.

Damn that word. Some of the recent additions to my friends list are men I had been involved with after the turn of the millenium. Before this I was the eeky angel who never had a guy. (I can't disclose the number because itd just make you cry.) So you can imagine.

Well obviously it didn't work out with any of them in the past. I was always the optimistic one, happy-go-lucky, naive and ready to fall in LOVE. I had no idea the definition of a fuck buddy. A beautiful friend? What the hell was a casual date? I thought if you kissed someone when you were sober, he had to be in love with you.

Then I endured the ugly truth. There were men who came, conquered and left. And I was left crying and bleeding in the bathroom, clinging on to my mobile hoping that somebody would call to say he loved me.

Rather predictably, those knight-in-armour calls never came. There was the occasional SMS that said, "hey would you like to grab 'lunch'"? You'd be proud to know that I never replied to those.

Back to the present. What I can derive from a few photos is that now they all have steady girlfriends. (incredibly hot girls, dammit) I am already deriving morning sickness from happy couple photos in the sun, wall posts addressing each other as 'baby', 'honey,' 'cupcakes' and most the most sickening of all, 'I love you.'

I am bitter because I never had those. And I can't help but to be affected by them. In the bout of dissecting what went wrong, I would have blamed it primarily on my looks. If I was more beautiful, many things would have worked out. If I looked fit, they wouldnt have left because they would have been proud to be seen with me. And stayed.

It is a shallow conclusion, but that is also the easiest conception in compliance with a shallow world. I hate to feel sorry for myself but yet I am pretty much incapable of blaming others for their happiness.

Best thing is to move on. Or delete the dreadful bunch from Facebook. Today I am in love with an amazing man whom I would love to spend the rest of my life with. Unlike the terrible junk I wasted my tears on, my sayang is so perfect.

However, I cannot help but to feel that he is alright with losing me the very next day. Just like the rest, he will move on with a more beautiful girl. He will be ok. But as for me I will cry myself to death, if I am even slightly lucky.

I know, its all about feeling sorry. But then again you must experience the scary depths of rejection to empathise with this.

Ok, I will stop the depressing crap for now. For those who follow ANTM's latest cycle on YouTube, ohhh myyy goodnesss this is so so so hilarious:

Basically these American contestants were based in Rome, and had to shoot a Covergirl TV Commercial in ITALIAN. Why I find it so horribly amusing is pretty much self explanatory..

WHAT THE HECK WERE THEY SAYING ??!?!?!

I almost fell off the chair

PATATA!!!!!

2008-04-19T09:35:00.012+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Lollipop by MIKA

Due to security concerns, the original post has been modified into a more self-indulgent version as per below.

In case you even BOTHER, I just got back from the U.S.A and brought a luggage full of nice things home with me. I am so in love. In case you even BOTHER, this is one of my obssessive purchases from the greatest blessing that is Victoria's Secret:

I am talking about the cheeky dress, not the chick. DOH. Again, in case you even BOTHER, I didn't buy the fluffy fan to complete the look. It is very likely that only my sayang will see me drunk & doning this frock with a beer in one hand.... if the size still fits by then.

It was tremendously good to be in Sin City: living in the best suites, best mansions with Bon Jovi as a gentle neighbour and sublime shopping... but my gambling luck is a little lopsided. Even my camera luck was lame, you would've read that I've met so and so celebs but I NEVER had my camera with me. Whoever who jinxed me in this aspect should poop themselves to oblivion.

My ultimate favourite is The Mansion @ MGM Grand, where the most gorgeous, posh & elite sunbathers congregated by the VIP pool every morning. Although I was the heaviest and worst looking of the lot, I still managed to strike up meaningful conversations with them and learnt that I was lucky enough to be there with my family, and not with an old and dying gigolo to gain this luxury.

Then there was San Francisco, where the shopping beats the world and I am missing a lovely aunt. Last but not least there was Hollywood; the mecca for all struggling and starving actors. A few people from my Method class thrived there, and some went home. Lazy arses like me perpectually holiday there.

Again, the green card seems like a pretty good idea in my quest for the Holy Grail.

VIVA VEGAS!!!

2008-04-07T09:11:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Sex Bomb by TOM JONES

A quick one to piss about how strange it is to blog on a massive plasma telly in an enormous suite alone with a few rose bubblies overlooking the whole of Vegas courtesy of a massive panorama window facing Mr Trump's unopened hotel. I just saw the Beckhams (including the kids) with Elton snd witnessed Tom Jones' newly acquired tan. Everything is so odd and you cannot imagine how much stuff I am buying. I am so totally shallow and I think I just walked past Pamela Anderson? She had those big burly guaards around her. Then there's the PCD casino and lounge. OMG.

Cameras are prohibited. But it's what I see that truly matters!!

This is why I have always loved coming back to Vegas. This place is so sick.

OHhhh.. Thank Heaven's for VICTORIAS SECRET!!! Muax muax muaxx

Trans-atlantic Fishes

2008-04-01T14:54:00.009+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Angelica by LE VIBRAZIONE

Due to popular demand, I've decided to post up a picture of a hundred fishes mauling my feet (and a glimpse of my fat thighs) at the much hyped KENKO FISH SPA.

HOW DID IT FEEL? PINS N' NEEDLES WITH A SLIMY TWIST
It's totally SICK. The biggest challenge is at the very beginning when you sink your feet into the murky water. Once your feet touches the water surface: schools and schools and schools of grey fishes riot towards you (theory: the more filthy you are, the more you attract). The point of this exercise is that these multitudes of guppies will manicly FEED on your feet's dead skin. (although they seem to have an insatiable fetish for your heels). Oh... I can't describe the rest. It's just, just, just EEWWWWWWW

It's the most odd-ass 30 minutes of spa treatment I've ever had.

In every effort to get through the half hour ordeal without laughing like a deranged hyena, I shouted the following:
LICK MY FILTHY FEETTTT!!! EXFOLIATEEEEEEE MEEEEE!!!!!! SUCK MY HEEEEL!!!! I AM GONNA HAVE GORGEOUS FEET AFTER YOU SUCKERSSSSS !!!!! EXFOLIATEEEEE!!!!

Try it. It brought out the forgotten chav in me.
It is also pretty obvious that fishes that feed on filth are, obviously, filthy creatures.

Tip: It's best not to look down on who's nibbling at your feet. Especially when you see a huge-mama fish (and her 50 juniors) approaching your big toe.

Anyway, I am flying out tommorrow morning. It's 3rd time back to LA, San Francisco and my hedonistic favourite:
LAS VEGAS ONCE AGAIN, BABY!!!!!

I should just live there.

Women of Substance

2008-03-25T04:10:00.012Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Medio Dia by CAFE TACUBA

Spa on a Monday was NICE. I underestimated the lack of blue skies here and totally burnt myself under the sun. Thats ok. I am so great. I recently bought bottles of rapid tanning sun block from Rome and never had the chance to use them.

This idyllic life gave me more time to read. So I bought a couple of magazines; a mixture of some local and my usual brit mags. So I was reading FEMALE yesterday. And came across several locally penned articles that was quite atrociously written.

I think I know these writers. And I think they are quite young. As a special mention, there was a 2 or 3 pager (yes the write-up was THAT long) which dwelled on the subject of how working long hours will eventually kill you. Since it applies so adequately to my pre-resignation lifestyle, I read it with full interest.

But really, after straining my eyes in the sun, I realised that I was reading a mediocre "O" Level essay adhering to the deadpan academic format:- state a point. example. paraphrase a point. example. plagiarise a point. example. make a few smart alec remarks. example. summarise entire article in case the reader has forgotten your point. full stop.

so where the heck is the your conclusion?

Yay, this article gets published! yay! yay! Let me tell my friends on Facebook!

A couple of days ago, (or was it yesterday?) there was a film article in The Star Newspaper in conjunction with the ongoing Iranian Film Festival. (Malaysia loves Iran. We have an Iranian film festival every two months because screening 100 Iranian films {as everybody seems to have cried while watching "Children of Heaven"} that personifies rural life and poverty is oh, sooo, sublime )

Back to the newsie. A girl attempted an article explaining how films have evolved to glorify the deprived female character as significant plot protagonists. (in my simpler words= she wanted to define GIRL POWER)

So she drones on this essay, with a familliar paper format she probably learnt back in college:

INTRODUCTION
Start with lame personal viewpoint like, 'As a female cinemagoer, I think...
Support with an introductory example/case study to support your lame viewpoint.
Paraphase something such as a brief history of how women are ill treated like mongrels in cinema.

BODY
Plagiarise an obvious point.
Example of Film #1 (remember to write a one-liner at the end of each paragraph to remind dumb or bored readers the point of this essay)
Plagiarise a second obvious point.
Example of Film #2 (ditto. above)
Plagiarise a few obvious and dumb points.
Example of Film #3 - Example #50 (all ditto. above)
Make a short, cliched and serious sentence - "Cinema has evolved soooo much since prehistoric times."

CONCLUSION
Make a lame personal conclusion: "I want girl power to be interpreted more effectively in cinema, less repression, beautiful life, blah blah." (Use big words to convey seriousness and thoughfulness so that the masses will admire your academic writing on a Monday evening. )

My favourite bit was her sympathetic reference to Fatih Akin's "Head On" (if you remember, this film is where I derived the quote "you dont have to kill yourself to end your life".. genius. ) As TV rights are only made available for Europe late last year, it amazes me where else she has watched this film apart from purchasing an illegal copy from the pirates?

Call the polizia.

Malaysian Mass Media is boring the nuts out of me.

Heiress

2008-03-23T12:25:00.005Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Big Girl (You Are Beautiful) by MIKA

Time and time again, remind me this
NO TEQUILA. NO MORE TEQUILA SHOTS. NO MORE!!!!!!
I pretty darn well know that it is DISGUSTING. But yet I still down some. And kill myself. I never learn.

Nice to be home and not worry about the laundry. But I miss my sayang and I can't wait till summer. You know, life is so good. I am so proud that I didn't sob on the plane. A way to resolving this is to consume excessive amounts of terrible champagne on board. So much that the cabin staff thought that I loved it and now I am stuck with an additional bottle to feed my fellow alcohol leaches.

It's been 6 days since we parted and I swear that I haven't shed a single tear. I am so strong. I am so brave. I am so strong. etc etc etc. As they say, "Non c'e istinto pari a quello del cuore". For now, life goes on and we will be closer very soon :)

Back to reality. Now I live life like my dear friend Edie (below) minus the drugs. So carefree, giggling more than ever and doing the bits and bobs of youth. Till May..... No work = FUN.

Monday stress? work traffic?? blehhh..... I am going out of town for a Spa day tommorrow... whooop whooooop!!

I have something to else to totally brag about:
THE WORLD'S BEST LASAGNA IS FRESH OUT OF THE OVEN!!!!!!

I MADE IT. EVERYBODY LOVEEEEEEEEED IT. HAPPY EASTER!!!!!!!

I stole the groundbreaking recipe from sayang who only makes the best. I am just a humble apprentice. Shhhh...

Ubriaco

2008-03-13T14:05:00.001Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Nuova Ossessione by SUBSONICA

Sorry for being so slack at blogging lately. I am totally on holiday and will continue to do so until kingdom come.

I came to a terrible realisation that OMG my alcohol tolerance has gone down to an embarassing level. I am trying to recall but I was certain that last night I consumed the following:

4 Vodka cocktails mixed with god knows what.
3 terrible tequila shots back to back.
1 rum mix with whatever coke I think. I dont even remember ordering it. Or I probably grabbed it from a stranger.

And had a total mental blackout at 4am. But I was somewhat sober enough to beat up potential perverts on the street.

BUT, DAMN, THATS SO LITTLE!!!!! I WAS BETTER, I SWEAR!!

2 years back when I was a student here I was able to hold up to 4 glasses pure vodkas, another 2 with red bull and 5 beers before landing in the toilet speaking posessed Italian. Those were my glory days.

Off to the supermarket now. Incriminating photos to be posted on Facebook next week. OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG.

Past

2008-03-03T13:18:00.001Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Oreminutisecondi by ALMAMEGRETTA

I can tell you one thing: There is something VERY SCARY about unearthing a person's past.

Again, I cannot tell you what it is. I will be an annoying twat for now.

Italy is okay. Theres not much sun, a bit chilly and I am getting very fat. The evil dish below has been wrecking my dreams.....

A nice pork katsu curry :)

Life Is Now Part 2

2008-02-29T16:48:00.001Z

Crooning on my STEREO:

Oh. my. god. I am such an embarassment it might be better if u chuck me into a gutter.

I seriously need to drink to make some sense of this manic life.

Things just keeeeeeeeeps getting better doesnt it? Shoot me.

Life- Is- Now

2008-02-22T10:01:00.003Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Castles In The Sky by IAN VAN DAHL

Spoilt brat lifestyle is on hold. Tommorrow I will be back at what I do best: lugging a massive suitcase all over train stations. Man, I miss that.

Another KL mystery...WHY IS IT SOOOO DIFFICULT TO FIND BLACK HOLDUP STOCKINGS HERE???

The skinny chicks would have snapped sizes that arent mine. So where the hell did the rest go? You know, I am totally lamenting over the lack of Victoria's Secret. I kicking myself for overlooking the mammoth store at Caesar's Palace, Vegas. I know, I know, I am so full of regrets.

Oh, baby, mess is all over the place. Don't Think. Just get back to Perugia and I will figure out fabulosity from there.

FREEDOMMMM

2008-02-16T13:17:00.004Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Les Matins de Paris by TEKI LATEX

"Freedom" is/ (or was?) a brand for sanitary napkins. It was a lame connotation I pissed about during my Sayfolian high school days, at the time when Robbie Williams had just gone solo and made a hit out of George Michael's expired record. I vaguely recall the music video as this; Robbie was skipping about in a stream clad in denims while manicly declaring "FREEDOOOMMMM" similar to that of a deranged preacher.

Strangely, I feel that way. It is somewhat liberating that you are not committed to contracts, which profoundly states why I haven't tied myself down by buying a fancy car. I am so young and I can't stay put. But when I am ready to settle on one location, soon, I'd love to get one of these:-

This is, oh, so cute. It was love at first sight when I saw this in Paris 10 years ago. It is so annoyingly girly, perfect for bad reverse parkers and a great European city car. I am wishful thinking that this might work in KL a little, but it is certainly not hazard proof from trucks that constantly flip over on our roads.

Secondly, I tendered my resignation a month ago and I can now enjoy a well deserved two month break. I will miss my favourite colleagues. They are the loveable bunch of attractive girls, whom I refer to as my "career sisters" and I appreciate their tolerance over my rubbish the past year or so.

Trust me, they are the ones who work your American programmes on TV. The great ones. Thank them. We worked hard, you know?

So nice to be on break. I can finally go ice skating with the kids tommorrow and show them whats left of my rusty limbs. I can drink coffee and read tabloids at Starbucks till kingdom come. I can conquer the empty pool on weekdays.

Thank You, F.A.B.U.L.O.S.I.T.Y

Bring on the TIKUS

2008-02-10T05:22:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Overpowered by ROISIN MURPHY

Formalities First.

HAPPY LUNAR NEW YEAR!!!

followed by those manic greetings on wealth, prosperity, climbing up the career ladder by licking your bosses' balls, etc. Why couldn't anyone have wished me ample luck on striking the lottery aka. El Gordo???

Chinese New Year is always about money and bracing idiots. Speaking of bling, I think KIMORA LEE is nuts but oh so hot. I am totally into her preachings on fabulosity. I have decided to be tacky and fabulous from now on.

I KNOW I have been keeping quiet and I KNOW that's becoming quite annoying. You may even notice that I have posted some vague directions and odd implications in all my previous entries the last couple of months. So much for beating around the bush. Rest assured that this is only a temporary phase and I will return to that lightweight blogger I used to be before I annoy myself any further.

There is a reason for this: I cannot tell you what fabulous stuffs I will do until there is a full degree of certainty. I am such a big-ass perfectionist hence I am not into half boiled statments of glory (which reminds me of a certain idiot). It's only for this little aspect that I am sorry I cannot be upfront with you for now. My Facebook incriminates alot so you might as well check it there.

Then there are a few people who shouldn't know either. Despite how much these 1 or 2 people claim to despise me, its pretty odd how they still read my blog on a very regular basis.

Jumping back to my ideals of fabulosity: I resigned from my decent job (finally!!) and I am going back to my sayang in 2 weeks.

OMG I can't wait. My dear rats, this is indeed LIFE IN THE FAB LANE!!

Penance

2008-01-20T07:54:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Nobody Knows by TONY RICH PROJECT

I can't quite believe it either, my plans kinda backfired.

OH MY GOD!!!! S.O.S!!!!!!!

Risks and uncertainties lie ahead. How do you overcome them?

Vacas Part 2

2008-01-14T17:54:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: About You Now by SUGABABES

Listen. You know what I can't bloody hell stand?

PEOPLE WHO MAKE ASSUMPTIONS

Yes, its a girl thing that annoys the jackshit out of me.

It's kinda dumb to speak bollocks when you know absolutely nuts about the truth. It is also sucky when one accuses and defies another's goodwill as a selfish ploy. This is disgusting and has happened to me just ONCE, but I urge you lot to NEVER do this upon others.

BECAUSE IT BLOODY HELL HURTS. Then again if you are capable of accusing and assuming i am pretty much convinced that you don't have feelings anyway. And for this I want you to screw yourself and know what its like to be humiliated.

My mistake why I didn't whack your brains out.

Speed Up Time

2008-01-07T15:00:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: L'ultima Risposta by SUBSONICA

Happy New Year Peeps
But I aint got time to write a long ass post, so let's keep this short and sweet in point form.

1. This 2008 opening entry is posted up courtesy of KY.

2. I am back from Japan and OMG it rocks.

WTF I grew a BUN face, blehhh.

3. This time next month, I am gonna get red packets.

4. I am cutting down on Black Label to stash on something pretty cool.

5. My life is improving by the day. Thank God!!!
-----------------

Again, I can't say anything more. I wish I can but hell I can't.

That's it for now.

TaTa

Seasons Greetings

2007-12-22T09:45:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Gabriel by LAMB

I am glad that 2007 is almost out of the way. It's been a terrible year, but of course it is also obligatory to admit that things could have been worse. So I should be grateful, and I must deceive myself into thinking 'OH MY GOD WHAT A WONDERFUL YEAR' when in actual fact I have been crying for almost every night since January 1st 2007 till 22nd December 2007.

You know, that "wonderful" exclamation is just, so, fake.

Friends came and went. Which never bothered me because I've learnt that either some people are born a certain way or I somehow instigate the evil in them. I don't know which is worse. I meet good and bad people every year. But I've also met good people who have turned bad, which is rather fascinating to watch.

Nicole Richie made one wise comment, something that went along the lines of 'deleting' friends who piss you off. Consequently I took heed and offloaded potential tumours off my bandwagon. At the end of the day the ones who stay are those who do not intrude, but cared from a distance. Hence these are the people who remain in my phonebook.

Then there's love. This year I've learnt so much about love. I fell in love for the first time.

I've learnt a painful lesson on how pointing a gun will never make a man love you. You know, I am one of those girls who get bouts of rejection from one man to another. I have a boyfriend who doesn't quite want me as his girlfriend. He doesn't even know if he loves me. So how do I deal with this?

You are right. Proud girls tell me that I have no dignity. It is easy for them to say. If only you lot would have a single inkling of how bad it is to drag a corpse a few times around a block. Well I had a choice, I could leave it behind to decay naturally. But low self esteem girls like me would rummage through whats left and hope against hope that something beautiful will grow out of it. It's a fairy tale notion but when you have nowhere to run to, this is all you've got to hope.

There is always home. Amidst the emotional trauma I experienced this year, I will always be thankful that there's dinner on my table and a roof over my head. Its a bit like a version of The Ugly Duckling, after the poor duck has faced several hurtful discriminations over his apperance (difference as ugliness rather).. it eventually found happiness when he reunites with his mother and his siblings. It wont be long till he grows into a beautiful swan.

This is not about self pity. You must remember that there could always be some love in the midst of adversities.

My friends, as 2007 draws to a close, here's to extend my very best wishes to every one of you:

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAVE A BLESSED NEW YEAR

2008 will be better. I will leave for Japan in a few hours time, and I want to come back a happier person.

Hangat

2007-12-08T10:01:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: All I Want For Xmas by MARIAH CAREY

Gosh... I so HAVE to blog about this:-

TODAY I WAS SHOPPING IN PAUL SMITH

WITH

MY CHEMICAL ROMANCE

And the lead dude, whatever his name, is SO SO SO HOT.

But I had to question why he wore a leather jacket. Its probably to maintain that mat rock look even in humid malaysia.

BUT

There is always a downside with all my star encounters. By some bitching of destiny, I NEVER have my camera with me.

5 months from now, you will not believe what you have read here today. You will forget because I have null to prove. Nada.

Most of you would know that I have a hell lot of luck with spotting celebs. But it totally sucks that I don't have any chummy photos with Ricky Martin, Jenson Button, Westlife, Colin Farrell, David Coulthard, Gael Garcia Bernal, Sam Neil, Stanley Tucci and only god knows of the countless others that I've missed out.

Lack of visual evidence doesn't position me to BRAG big time.

with the exception of IL DIVO. Hail Salvation!!

Cyclops

2007-12-04T13:52:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Tutta Mia La Citta by Giuliano Palma & the Bluebeaters

I AM GOING BLIND. Like, seriously. My vision is tormented as I type this. So don't go about kicking my butt for the numerous typo errors that will come your way. gnfgnjtjhykujkygil,gu

That was quite bad wasn't it?

Come on, FEEL SORRY FOR ME.

Actually NO. People annoy me when they feel sorry for me. Cos there's really nothing to be sorry about. It's not your fault. And it's totally not MY fault. And despite karma's bitching, I really don't want to feel sorry for you either.

There's a primal point in this gibberish. I am teaching you not to get involved in other people's woes. Or worse, take interest in other people's woes. And the worst: IMAGINE other people's woes.

Unless you can contribute to relegating the pain, this noble deed annoys the shit out of me.

You see, I had a girlfriend who texted me out of the blue:
--------------------------------------
Friend: HI! LONG TIME NO SEE. HOW R U? xxx

Me: Hi xxx, nice to hear from you. I am good. N u?

Friend: OIC. I M OK. I M ALWAYZ HERE IF U ND ME :)

Me: Erm. ok, thanks.

Friend: SO? HOW IS EVERYTHING?

Me: Yeah is good. Been busy as usual!

Friend: IC. WELL I AM SENDING LOTS OF KISSES 2 GIVE U COURAGE 4 THE DAY XX

Me: Ok thanks. Likewise to you too.

Friend: LYN B STRONG. I M HERE 4 U. I KNOW LIFE AINT EZ. XXX

Me: My life is perfect, thank you.

Friend: U CAN ALWAYZ SPK TO ME. SENDING U RABBITS AND RAINBOWS 4 THE DAY!!! xxxxxxxxx

---------------------------
First of all, do you think she sounds like a COMEPLETE COW?

FRIGGING ANNOYING

I have an insatiable urge to whack her with a coconut. I don't get it, I have reiterated that my life is FINE but why does this delusional cow keep insisting that I have PROBLEMS? Or rather, problems that I would want to SHARE with her.

EEEEEEEEEWWWWW

I don't need her blessings. Nor courage. Or whatever munchkins. *cringe*

Change of topic. Ok. I am going to expound how much I worship Julio Medem. Thanks to YouTube, I am giving you the opportunity to experience one of the most oh-my-god scenes ever staged. I ADORE IT.

On a separate note, did you know that Kuala Lumpur hosted an International Film Festival? With the most grotesque international films line up I've ever seen.

So, who are these morons on the selection panel?

Vacas

2007-11-25T14:03:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: The Blower's Daughter by DAMIEN RICE

I was looking back at my older posts, ie. circa 2006 and before, and I thought of reviving this:

THE RIDICULOUS USE OF FONT SIZE AND COLOUR to enhance the impact of my rants on you poor readers. What happened to that girl who used to complain the shits in good humour?

I have decided to bring her back.

You see, I have been needing to change my life. There were some dumbass incidents that took place recently that I cant help but to take the literal piss. Most of you would know that a certain part of my life is in a bit of a mess, but its OK. You know, it is quite funy. I have done enough with sobbing so its time to revel in that consequential weight loss and England's Euro defeat.

I watched a film from Fatih Akin who expounded this ingenious quote:-

"If you want to end your life, end it. You don't have to kill yourself to do that."

OH MY GOD. Why didn't I think of this???????

Nothing really took place actually.

Two weeks ago I was puking all over the streets of Bangkok. Three weeks ago I was milking Kuantan of all their available beer. By the way, join FACEBOOK if you want to be a voyeur of all my activities.

Then I found out that I was hanging out with some murder suspects. And then I found out my boyfriend doesn't love me. AND THEN I found out that an ex has eloped to Paris with a hot girl whom he cheated on me.

OH MY GOD.

My life would have been perfect without you NUTCASES. Stop frigging rejecting me, will you???

It's OKAY. There is always Riccardo.

He has Gio's eyes.

Orphic Songs

2007-11-12T12:22:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Cold Water by DAMIEN RICE

Do you remember November 23rd last year?

I find it somewhat bittersweet that people walk in and out of your life with such tremendous leisure. Even the ones you love.

For me, he was disappearing. Or maybe, he has decided to disappear.

The saddest thing about disappearing is that you can do nothing to stop it. All you can do is to lie, or make him lie.

In many instances I had to pursue love. But with this broken heart of mine, I can only wish that love would pursue me in return.

Perhaps one day, if I should decide to walk away,

I can only hope that when I do look back, I will see you walking behind me.

Calendar Dogs

2007-10-27T10:01:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Lost by MICHAEL BUBLE

It is perfectly ok to lose hope in humanity, but let us not forget the other species who are capable of loving us through rain and shine. To all my silent and non-silent blog stalkers: Do a good deed today and get yourself a few copies of the 2008 SPCA Calendar (Malaysian edition)

I have pimped my dogs as calendar models. I found it pretty weird that they are achieving stardom quicker than I am.

Oh my god, I am so shallow.

Hope

2007-10-14T16:31:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Shine by TAKE THAT

Rather strangely,

I am glad that I stayed on to make my 3rd trip to Cannes, only to discover that when someone closes the door on you,

another one opens.

Somewhere Out There

2007-10-05T14:46:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Miss Me by BOB SINCLAR

Love is a very sad thing. Be it family. Or friends. Or relationships. Be it religion. The more you love, the more you are made vulnerable to pain. It is true. Will you deny this? Will you ever deny having loved someone and never felt the grief of losing him or her? Or are you one of those who refuses to love, in the fear of having your heart broken in return? Have you ever lost your dog to cancer?

For once, I understood why loving a man can be so painful. It sometimes makes me unafraid of death.

But what do you do when your love is unrequited? Or when you are fading gradually from your lover's life? And when he stops saying 'I Love You'? When you feel that you both no longer share the same dreams? When he fails to understand why you would ever cry for him? When he stops believing in hope?

You do wish that he would prove your friends wrong. You do wish that one day, he would look you in the eye and say, "I will do anything for you". You do wish that, you could lead a normal life together with him, and do things that couples would normally do. You do wish that you could wake beside him every day and never have to be an ocean's apart again.

You do wish that, nothing stood in the way for you both to be together.

And that, one day, he will believe the same.

If only he loves you. If only.

Alcohol. Part 2.

2007-09-23T07:59:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Tonight The Streets are Ours by RICHARD HAWLEY

We tend to take the piss out of Pete Doherty for his nasty doping antics, but little do we know that addiction is almost unrepressable. I've gone through that with Sebastien from Il Divo, hence I am familiar with the transition of obssession to addiction. If you are not careful, it can also turn you into a full time stalker...

In other words, it takes a mind of a bull to beat addiction.

No I ain't taking drugs. I am too poor for that. But I do take alcohol. But I guess they are both equally as bad anyway. The wonderful thing is that the latter is socially more condusive and accessible at large. I know for a fact that I bond better with people if I have a glass in hand. Even if I hate your guts, I could still choke up "oh my god you are a friendddd" for diplomacy's sake.

Thats why I strongly feel that theatre should encourage alcohol consumption before rehearsals and performances. Since actors are a crazy lot, they should feed on that notion to bring out the inevitable.

I think alcohol is good for relationships. It helps you to discount cons. Consequently you don't drive yourself insane because you are not sensitive nor conscious enough to make sense of human imperfections. There is less trouble when you are ignorant. Believe me.

Alcohol is also good for the office. It dilutes your stress by blinding you from the horrifying reality of your workload. If consumed in moderation, the workplace will be a happier place. It can certainly numb you from hyena-esque giggles from a juvenile colleague who has been baking muffins and puffins for your boss.

But of course, alcohol can also bring out the monster in you. If you are one of those who turn aggressive after 2 shots, you can take this opportunity to trash it out with an annoying client. Such aggression could get you deals faster than you digest. Or it can scare people away. Which is also probably a good thing.

Don't take me too literally though. Please be mindful of hangovers, broken heels, date rape, fountains of puke and other forms of induced ugliness that only you can imagine. Use your brains and becareful. Have some mercy on your poor liver.

My dear friends, I have been meaning to impart this wisdom since 4 years back. I was just never sober enough to write this.

HAVE FUN UNTIL YOU ARE SICK OF IT.

Speaking of which, I second that marijuana should be made legal. Do it like they do in Amsterdam.

Facebook

2007-09-09T11:03:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Champ Elysees Theme by BOB SINCLAR

Come on,

Join FACEBOOK.

I've uploaded a whopping 200 photos onto their server today as insurance against my dying laptop.

I've featured all sorts of photos. Including those of my humiliating past.

(Oh my god.. I MISS ACTING. I actually got to run around with a GUN.)

JOIN NOW!

I've been drinking way too much beer this week. it's FAT!!!

Dusk

2007-09-02T10:20:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: What I Want (Fireball) by BOB SINCLAR

On my way home from Singapore yesterday, I enjoyed a pretty sunset.

Uninterrupted spectacle lasted for 5 minutes before a 10ft tall transnasional bus decided to roadhog. Malaysian traffic, damn it. Chuck out those pullman(s).

Singapore is wicked for several reasons; it is the closest country to us, yet it offers a different world of opportunities. Where in KL can you find a music store that will make you weep with such an extensive collection of Nouvelle Vague CDs? Or mainstream Bob Sinclar for that matter? When it comes to travel books, Borders Singapore can ram Kinokuniya KL hands down with a single shaft.

This pretty much explains my frequent, impromptu shopping tours down south. I usually come back poor but more hopeful. Even the recruitment section in Singaporean newsies propagates that every poor jobseeker will have a home in the workforce regardless of race and political connections. Whatever silly job that you desire, it is there. You just have to read the papers and apply.

Despite our patriotism for our recent National Day, I hate to say that the same range of opportunities is absent here. In Malaysia, 80% of job vacancies are never advertised. If you are a fresh graduate who'd like work in our TV-Film-Media- Distribution market, it is virtually impossible to enter this region unless you have a charitable friend like me who is always on the search for replacements so that I can leave my job. On the contrary, this position is advertised so extensively in the Lion City.

Plus, Singaporean employers actually LOOK at your degrees.

I don't want to sound anti-Malaisie, hence I will dig out its neighbour's downside; every young Singaporean chick has gorgeous legs. And that makes me feel highly inferior and I want to lock myself at home.

Workwise, I am trying to decide on my future. I am certainly NOT an ass-licker, and I need to feel appreciated for my strengths to inspire the extraordinary.

But my stream of thoughts tend to stray because I am simply spoilt by too many choices. I just have to focus on one and stick by it till world's end.

I just need to kill time, really. For now.

Battered Skates

2007-08-25T14:16:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: 4 In The Morning by GWEN STEFANI

Figure skating is a bloody good sport; it tones your butt, it doesn't make you sweat like a pig and it puts your friends in awe of you. It is hardly dangerous (except when you FALL and another skater happens to skid through your fingers), it is socially condusive (chances is that you wont meet pervs within the ice area) and it trains you to be empathetic. (ie, feel sorry for the poor souls who stumble around you.)

I was once a figure skater during medieval times. Before you choke on your coffee, I am reminiscing approximately 7 years ago when I used to camp around different ice rinks and lugged my 5kg ice skates to various countries abroad. To prove it:- here's a stale photo I took on the frozen lake in front of Hampton Palace.

My supremity on the ice meant that I ended up giving free twirling lessons to fellow stumbling skaters. The kids worshipped me and the chavs fancied me. Glory.

I admit, if I had lived in the United States and began ice training when I was three, I would've made it to Salt Lake by last year. I would have participated in the Winter Olympics. I would have a hotter bod.

But of course, my existence was destined for another mundane purpose. Oh well...

I was at a competitve stage before I retired from this sport. 7 years ago, I was training religiously at the Nottingham Ice Arena. I was preparing for an exam where I have to compete against 12 year old pre-teen rival. (yes, I know: skaters are getting younger.) I had come to a level where I could jump effortlessly and spin without throwing up gas.

One fine day, I discovered binge drinking. I discovered clubbing. I found greater solace in getting myself highly intoxicated at parties than locking myself up in a refrigerator. Thats when I stopped turning up at ice trainings. And I did not renew my lessons. And I got fat, which obviously had its lasting impression on me.

My ice skates lay battered til today. I had ferried them from London, Spain and now, back home. And I hadn't put them on since Nottingham. If I were to stick my feet back in, I wouldn't remember the professional basics of lacing them up properly.

I used to think that my ice skates were so pretty. I even had my name engraved on them, and I even personalised my ice shields with different colours.

But why had I abandoned them so suddenly? Why can't the same kind of love be rekindled after its loss? I don't know if I will bring them with me when I move abroad next year.

My life is a slippery skating vacation; I have been so lucky not to have my fingers sliced up by the oncoming skaters.

Sunday Morning

2007-08-12T04:16:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Domo Mia by TAZENDA ft. EROS RAMAZZOTTI

This is indeed an unusual Sunday morning for me. I am awake at 10a.m, still in my PJs and dragon breath. No hangover. No miserly hole in my pocket. I sprained my back.

Or rather, I didn't quite go out the night before. I only had ONE drink at a friend's place where I mourned about how 75% of my friends are plastic fishes and how they should all be kept in an aquarium. This is a very depressing metaphor; a truth which I somehow always knew, but I never had the guts to press 'delete' on my social keyboard. You can have 500 friends on Facebook but only 5 would even care to know where your house is.

Consequently I dreamt of Giorgio Armani who urged me to buy a pair of sandals off him. His words of advice were, "start kicking pests out of your life." My thoughts were, " I will kick YOU for burning a hole in my wallet."

Just like any underpaid employee, I have financial issues. Eventhough I am so assured that 2008 is going to be a turnaround year, I still have 4 more months to plod through 2007. So its a matter of killing time and earning interest in my bank account.

Financial and social issues are the least of my concerns. The love issue is pivotal, and my life is more or less gauged by its strength. I watched Un Viaggio Chiamato Amore and I saw my personal fears rolled out before me.

Yeah, I worry.

I relate to Dino Campana's manic disillusion of love. And I also acquaint my great grief in Sibilla Aleramo's unrequited passion. The freaky bit is that the two characters constitute me, but perhaps, not my lover.

In any case that you are wondering, they are both great poets. In love.

I am trying to get hold of a copy of Orphic Songs, which will give us a breathtaking translation of Dino's poem below:-

In un momento
Sono sfiorite le rose
I petali caduti
Perché io non potevo dimenticare le rose
Le cercavamo insieme
Abbiamo trovato delle rose
Erano le sue rose erano le mie rose
Questo viaggio chiamavamo amore
Col nostro sangue e colle nostre lagrime facevamo le rose
Che brillavano un momento al sole del mattino
Le abbiamo sfiorite sotto il sole tra i rovi
Le rose che non erano le nostre rose
Le mie rose le sue rose

P.S. E così dimenticammo le rose.

Grief turns one into insanity. Madness turns one into a genius. I can only cry at the sight of these eternal words. And how it aptly describes my current crossroads; I really cannot handle love.

And I am sure that this is the same for many of us.

Okay, on a lighter note. Just when I thought that my acting career was on the decline, I found this pirate DVD.

Sorry about the boobies. Its an art film, y'see?

You may remember that I worked as a film extra in London 3 years back. (Oh, how i miss those days of lunching in trailers with other fascinating stars-to-be. During this shoot, I even fancied the casting assistant...)

Back to my self-indulgent point, the kind director DID NOT remove my cameo, so try and spot me !!! (eventhough i resemble a downtrodden Chinese immigrant. Don't worry, I am not naked.)

Oh, this feature is going on the big screens in Europe, Singapore and other liberal Asian countries.

And hey, this is not porn.

We will meet soon.

2007-08-04T13:52:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Last Night by DIDDY feat Keyshia Cole

I've been in this rotten TV industry for too long; I've forgotten what constitute great films and I've also disregarded their crucial existence in my mundane life. You see, I've recently been watching so much of telly trash that I am led to believe that either this world is stupid, or the tube is stupid. Or both.

It's all in the name of work. It has made me benign. I think that I was a lot smarter when I was a student. My Phd hormones are kicking in.

Sit tight. I am going to lament over the deaths of Antonioni and Bergman. Not that they were my favourite directors to begin with, but one cannot deny that they were the last surviving European legends of a bygone golden cinematic era. Initially, I thought that both dudes were already dead 20 years ago simply because they hadn't produced any significant work since their glorious 50s and 60s, hence I would assume that they shouldn't be alive for another half-century.

Forgive my miscalculations. I suck at maths. I am trying to say that their lives have outlived their peaks.

First of all, Ingmar Bergman and Ingrid Bergman are NOT related to each other, although I reckon that itd be more interesting otherwise. Their only similarity is that they are both Swedish. I mean, they are from the land of Ikea and meatballs.

Ingmar Bergman is VERY nordic. So, expect alot of blonde characters and long winter nights in his films. His most famous work is the Seventh Seal; featuring the infamous scene that frames an aptly dressed knight playing chess with a figure of Death clad stylishly in a black cloak. Trust me that you would have seen this image; it has been exploited in all media forms after Bergman's death last Monday.

This is one of my favourite scenes from the film, where the poor knight is suddenly overwhelmed by the surprise visit of Death in his confession box. I think that this is very hilarious.

Malaysians can easily obtain a pirate copy of this film through your local DVD vendor. Just ask for Cerita Hantu.
Although I must stress that this is FAR from a horror flick.

My favourite Bergman work has to be Fanny And Alexander, a TV miniseries totalling 318 minutes. This has to be the longest viewing I have done in one sitting, but enough to instil great hopes in 1980s television. Every frame is simply breathtaking.

Michelangelo Antonioni is Italian. But not conventionally Italian as what you would see in La Vita E Bella nor La Dolce Vita. In actual fact, I highly regard him as boring. And slow. But not as painfully boring as Tsai Ming Liang.

If you would like to acquaint with Antonioni, L'avventura is a great start. It is the first part of the director's infamous trilogy that comprises of L'eclisse and La Notte... and for your info, all had done worlds better than the LOTR trilogy in critics' circles.

I am not a fan of films that subscribe to 'time suspended' narrative (aka. long windedness).... but this is what Antonioni is all about. You can have a storyline that can be compressed into 15minutes of whirlwind action, but only a great master can stretch it to 146 minutes in such an unforgettable and non-frustrating manner. (think: Tarkovsky)

In this old style 'survivor' tale that explores the strangled nature of relationships, Monica Vitti's performance on screen is certainly worth admiring. After Giulietta Massina, she has emerged as my second favourite Italian actress of all time. Watching her strengths portrayed on Antonioni's visuals makes me somewhat bitter that contemporary cinema no longer carries such quality performances.

Okay. Enough of whingeing. If Fellini had died within my era, I would have written his tribute in the form of a massive literary text. But alls hath passed and we, the surviving beings, are here to stay to indulge in their legacies.

Let's pray for the emergence another generation of awe-inspiring filmakers.

God bless Ingmar and Michelangelo. Rest In Peace.

Mi Manchi

2007-07-23T14:09:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Stand by Me by THE FUGEES

I may put salt into your coffee. Knock the kitchen cabinet over your head. Ask you lame questions such as how to peel a carrot.

Eat all your food. Salivate on your pillow. Use up your toilet roll. Bite your ear.

Drink like a horse. Cry like a kid. Flaunt my cellulite on the beach. Brag on and on about Foligno. Steal all your sheets.

I am useless, I know. And I am downright annoying.

But you still cared for me in your strange ways. Perhaps you do feel sorry for me.

I miss you, baby.

Suddden Death

2007-07-15T18:02:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Non Puedo Explicar by LAURA PAUSINI

First of all, apologies for the update delay. My faithful 4yr old IBook died a sudden death the night before I took off for Rome. I am distressed. I have lost 4 years worth of hard drive memory in a blitzkrieg. Please refrain from sending me wreaths.

This is a metaphor of life's unpredictability. Anyone of us is prone to a heart attack any second from now.

Eeesh.

Morbidity aside. I assume that you guys are checking out this page for photos of my annual bash.

To suss out who went this year, fotografias are here. I wish I had more time to snap EVERYBODY, but i guess there is only so much you can drink and hold the camera steadily at the same time. And not to lose it.

If you are a busybody, piccies from the 2006 bash are here. And I gather that people were far more drunk last year.

OK. Short Post. I am now back home in Perugia. Savoring Umbria Jazz with my beloved Limoncello. And my boss will eventually fire me for taking a week off ad-hoc.

But Life Is Short.

Fudge career. At this point I don't need one. Play when you can. Whatever that makes you happy.

Ci Vediamo, i miei amici!!!!!!!!!!!

Stupido.

2007-07-01T07:51:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: King of the Bongo by ROBBIE WILLIAMS

You are Zeus. You have followers. They desire to live in the countries you have lived in. Travel to places where you have been to. Envy your belongings. Stalk your footsteps.

They aspire to be just like you. Or better than you.

My friends, I call those pagans who reside beneath your toes: worshippers.

I have very little respect for worshippers.

Then there is Venus. Goddess of self-perceived beauty aka. 'perasan-ness'. Women who would utilise the spineless nature of mortal men for their own gains. Women who would perceive themselves as a femme fatale, are actually those who are blinded by their own beauty. (inaccurately reflected by their warped Ikea-endorsed mirrors.)

Last week, I saw a very fine example of Venus which made me puke.

Not the razor, I mean.

My point is, you people make me laugh.

Yes, I have many kickass adventures. And I share them. What freaks me out so much is that I have inspired a number of naive fools to run away from home.

I am responsible for the dumb people I know who are flocking to illegal jobs in ulu areas of Spain. I am also responsible for a handful who are leaving their families behind to flock to Europe in search for eligible bachelors.

You guys are dumb, or what? You don't even speak the language. What do you know of their culture? And Europe has the same ratio of bad male species as anywhere else in the world. Stop dreaming, you cows.

Living is different from holidaying. Get Real. Stop running away.

Kids.

Hair. Because You Are Worth It.

2007-06-17T11:18:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Amore Disperato by NADA

When I was 9

I had the same haircut till I was 19

Bleach stripped my hair of its virginity when I was 21,

and after a heated consensus, I decided to ditch those infamous dumb-blonde locks in my midst of turning 24.

As you can probably tell, I've only had 4 hairstyle changes in the last 23.8 years.

I AM GINGER!!!

Moving On

2007-06-10T10:54:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Crazy All The Time by 33HZ

Dear concerned friends and curious enemies,

LET'S TOAST TO THE 200th POST ON THIS BLOG!!!!

Only God knows how I have kept this crapology alive for so long.

It's like feeding a carrot to an elephant.

In conjunction with this celebration of stupid sorts, I am in the midst of contemplating some earth-shattering decisions. Please include me in your respective prayers and kindly alert your local bomoh as I will be in need of some blessings.

Fret not. The drinking will continue. The madness will continue.

And I will be packing my bags once again.

Yours, with courage.
Senorita Lyn xxxxx

"Se l'amore, nomade benedetto, e tuo ospite, tienilo caro."

SUMMER

2007-05-27T10:31:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Too Drunk To Fuck by NOUVELLE VAGUE

I ADORE SUMMER(s). It is the time of the year when everybody gets less pissy, less inhibited and more accomodating. The youths party. The adults picnic. The dogs play. The birds sing. The children annoy.

Sunburnt whales invade the beaches. Bikini anorexics exhibit their silicon cleavages. If you have lived in the Great Britain, you will marvel at the slightest indication of summer's coming.

Ahh.... those were my days of liberty: Skipping around Regents Park in discounted New Look summer dresses and H&M flip flops. Long live, London.

Okay. I am back in Kuala Lumpur. I love it here. But it is a little painful adjusting to a weather-less climate. To my fellow foreign friends:- I have said this many times, DO NOT BE DECEIVED BY THE POSTCARDS. BLUE SKIES DO NOT EXIST IN THIS CITY.

The sun, well, is something that the locals avoid. And if they see you basking in the sun in your little strapless dress, they'd laugh at your foolish obssession.

And there is no such thing as the monsoon season because we have been plagued by thunderstorms almost every other day.
Hence, you do not have to plan your holiday here on specific periods of the year - since we're gonna have sucky weather all year round anyway.

Truth is, my best summers were spent abroad. Minus those numerous drunkfests and decadent student summers, my happiest will always be Summer 2003; the year when I got out of uni and flew to Vienna to meet my family. We then embarked on a month long holiday through Austria and Switzerland via the Glacier Express.

I saw somethings so sublime that I was ready to die in the mountains. No, it wasn't a yoddler.

Back to the distasteful present. I took a day off last week as a partial-recuperation from Champion's League, followed by an impromptu doc's visit over a suspicious tumour in my body. As I did my first ultrasound, I thought," Damn, I have had so many wicked summers.... if luck is a bitch I could be spending mine in a WARD this year."

No. No. Of course Not. Damn You.

So I planned my summer vacations asap. I am going to the beach. I am going home in August. And I will be spending more time on real charity. Together with a loved one, we have even charted optimistic plans for the next 12 months.

Well, value your life. On top of that, you should also stop listening to stupid things that stupid people say to you. A smart alec once looked at my palm and said, 'Oh, hun... I hate to tell you this, but you are going to have a difficult life.'

My life actually got very good after that.

I Don't Want To Sleep Alone

2007-05-13T09:21:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: A Ballad For My Little Hyena by AFTERHOURS

We all have issues with trust. You don't trust your postman. You think your husband is cheating on you. You suspect that your son is oogling porn sites on the internet. You think your cat may eat your fish. You don't like Bush. You don't trust Alam Flora collecting your garbage on time.

You see, I have always been a fiercely loyal person. I live by a kindergarten formula: Be nice to me, and I will be very nice to you. And it takes a very simple betrayal to break that pact.

If you stab me with a blade, I will slash you with a scythe.

In fact, this is a bargain; you give me some and I will give you MORE. Faham?

Of course, life is not as anal as it seems. This scene from Bali has taught me about the beauty of co-existence.

Woman sleeping beside python.
(And I can testify that both woman and snake are very much alive.)

Salvation does exist in this world. If a reptile is able base its trust on Man, they share a mutual understanding that one will not harm the other.
This illustrates that trust transcends words. It is simply built on instinct.
If I am able to bring myself to sleep beside you, I wouldn't expect you to strangulate me in my sleep.

Speaking of such, I am not encouraging you to sleep with your enemy.

Building a comfortable level of trust between two parties is never instantenous. It takes an awful amount of time. Years. Or even decades.

Sometimes, you simply can't bring yourself to trust a particular person.

We all have our fair share of disappointments. There was a girl I knew who constantly whined/ exaggerated on the cruelty of the people around her, and how she is unable to progress in her life as a consequence.

All I could say to her was, no matter how many bastards and bitches we encounter in our lifetime, we just have to move on.

Life is a domesticated bat. You were once wild, but you were held captive.
And in order to survive, you have to trust your captors.

Off tangent, you may even have to fight for your right to co-exist with another being.
I call this: the passionate pain of love and hate.

Odio ed amore.

And I am fighting it. Because I love him.

Questa Primavera

2007-05-02T15:08:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Pledging My Love by JOHNNY ACE

During one of my carefree days in St. Petersburg, I taunted a generic statue of Cupid to his face. I said, "You are a selfish prick. How many more times do you intend to wank me?" The museum guards chased me out. Nah, kidding. Cupid gave me a Russo-passive smirk which insitgated my desire to hack his pretty face. No, no. I have to give credit to anger management.

Fast forward a few months. And if you may recall, I wrote an extremely emo post sometime back in December 2006. And yes, I displayed my vulnerability. And I exploded my sob story to the world that all the men I was involved with were either pissers, bastards or the type of assholes that are featured in Cleo's Annual Eligible Bastards.

Well, Cupid's wanking came to a halt. Through an intense chapter of meeting a significant other, I have found strength in life through love.

Love is a strong entity. And unconditional. My mother once told me that a long distance relationship is a test of maturity. The test is even greater when he is, let's say, your first love.

This Spring is one of the most beautiful. After a series of exhaustive work travels to Bangkok and Cannes in the past few weeks, I detoured and returned to Perugia. My incentive came in the form of four days.

And I found myself attempting to freeze time.

The whole process became sublimely sad, but devastatingly beautiful. I recall leaving Nice with a schoolgirl's grin, to sharing a kiss with him on opposite walkalators in Fiumicino. Then there was the train ride where he pointed out Cinecitta to me; a place that is incredibly close to my heart and dreams.

From then on, everything was perfect. It was so perfect.

But, like your typical Korean soap, a happy duo had to part. That dreadful feeling is familiar, i was overwhelmed by the same fleet of thoughts as the time when I had to leave home for a few semi-unproductive years in Britain.

I miss him. I miss being with him. I never knew that Nuotando Nell'aria can be the song that can shatter my fragile soul. Reason being; he had whispered the lyrics into my ears the night before I left.

Cupid has thrown me into an Orpheus-inspired labyrinth of questions. Why am I stressing over the pending deal of a nonsensical TV programme? Who gives a damn if your fax had not reached your supplier in time? Why do you even bother with friends who backstab and those leaches who lick the arses of society?

I took some time off in Bali. Everything was nice. But I longed to smile the way I did when I was with him a few weeks ago.

But life has always been good to me.

Generic Girl Talk

2007-04-07T13:13:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Kiss Me by CANARY

I am back from slogging in Bangkok. A friend and I were discussing the touchy issue of toxic friends and we compared notes on some generic whining sessions that we had to endure from girlfriends.

Of course, girl emo sessions can be forgiven as mere PMS attacks.

But when it becomes a HABIT, boy, we have to jump the bridge.

Read on and tell me if this sounds familiar to you:-

Girl: I am so depressed.

Me: Why?

Girl: I am so ugly.

Me: But you are fine. Why do you say this?
Me thinks: I hate to sing unnecessary praises at unnecessary times. But when you have a sobbing friend on the other line, this should be the most appropriate thing to say to stop her from downing Baygon.

Girl: Nobody likes me.....

Me: Oh no no... dont say that...
Me thinks: I have just been insulted.
Translate: SHE IS SAYING THAT YOU DONT LOVE HER. SHE IS TELLING YOU THAT THE WORLD, including your baby brother, IS PLOTTING EVIL AGAINST HER.
To put this into perspective, why does a sobbing fool have to call you if she knows that you wont give two hoots about her sorrows?

Girl: You know, no boys will ever like me. Because I am UGLY. Nobody ever looks at me. I will never have a boyfriend ...etc etc...

Me: Thats not true... you will never die a spinster.
Me thinks: Lord help me. Why do you chicks delude yourselves into thinking that life is all about finding a dude?

Girl: I don't know why boys do not like me...

Me: Ermmmmm
Me thinks: Well, you know the answer. You just said that YOU ARE UGLY;

Girl: I mean, you will never understand.... you have a guy and all. And I have nobody....

Me: Yeah, of course I know that I am fortunate.
Me thinks: Of course I don't understand you. If a shitfaced bitch like me has done good for myself, any specie without a dick can do the same. Woman, stop whining and just put in some effort.

Girl: But the guys here are useless. They will never appreciate me...

Me: Maybe it is in their culture... some sort of trend going for anorexic pan-asian chicks...
Me thinks: No matter how hideous you are, it is highly easy to get a caucasian fling if you are not choosy. You know those balding men at Beach club? Or head to an obscure town in Greece and the local boys will drool over your exotic-ness.

Malaysian dudes aren't so bad. Yes, there is the shallow bastardy 70% lot. But there is also the humble lot. Give them a chance. The ones who avoid you are the ones who probably sensed your desperation. They are not stupid, y'know.

Girl: Sigh.. I don't know anymore...

Me: Just rest and you will be okay.
Me thinks: You have nothing more to whine about. So shut up. And this will give me a break from being overly condescending.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY:

STOP COMPLAINING. BE THANKFUL THAT YOU ARE NOT DEFORMED.

Jeez.

MARCH PMS

2007-03-31T15:26:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Splendido Splendente by RETTORE

Five things to BLOW UP on:-

1) I've got YELLOW TEETH .
Yes, it is due to the excessive tea drinking.

2) I do not have ample strength to clear my SMS(es) within a week.
There is not enough of memory space on my cranky phone.

3) My skin is morphing into a mouldy chocolate shade.
There's not enough of sun in this country.

4) Arsenal and Liverpool.
I'd rather have Crouch kick my ass than Christina.

5) F1 - Who on earth is Hamilton?!??!
Y'see, I had a lovelorn history with Mclaren. Until Hakkinen eloped. And Kimi stabbed us in the back.

I need RED BULL.

The Silk Road and Genghis Khan.

2007-03-25T09:09:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Bellezza by MARLENE KUNTZ

While I was penning my 4th feature script, my brainstorming sessions revealed a serious defect in plot setting. There was a marvellous storyline, coupled with extraordinary characters and kickass sketch edits, but I sensed a certain void in empathising with the story's surroundings.

Hence I never completed that particular screenplay. And hence I never received my Oscar.

Like any other wannabe, I was ambitious. I chose to narrate my emo- fiction along the very long Silk Road and its surroundings. If you have absolutely no idea what this legendary route entails, have a good look at the map below:-

I know, it will take me decades to walk it. And probably a century to write a book on it.

Silk Road is an unexploited region that intrigues me. When self proclaimed travellers tell me that they've seen the world after flocking to Western Europe, I am then reminded of a certain inbred stupidity that resides in yuppies nowadays. Before I puke, I will stop bitching for now.

Central Asia is an entirely different world. Trust me.

The inhabitants of these regions are generally better looking. And since my boyfriend dated one of them, I have developed a compulsive complex aka. perception that everybody there is ultra-hot and attractive.

You begin your journey in Vietnam. Then you enter CHINA. My great motherland. Great Gran Daddy apparently had a castle and a pretty jet there until they were snatched away by the communists. Such idiots, I know. We even went searching for it when we went to Beijing last year.

Beijing does not do China justice. The Great Wall does. And the picture below also does.

I guess you would then have to venture beyond the Great Wall to see Greater China. Rent a camel that would take you cross-country. And do it like Che Guevara alla. Motorcycle Diaries.

Our trans-asian adventure should be dubbed: The Camel Diaries.

Along the way, one should pay homage to the great and mighty GENGHIS KHAN. The warrior dude who came and conquered. The hero who invaded extensive amount of lands with the same ease as Pac-Man. With this in mind, MONGOLIA is another must-see. (Although it might be easier to detour with the Trans-Siberian route. I will explain that in a separate post.)

My dad used to bull me with a story that we are the descendants of some barbaric tribe of Inner Mongolia. Probably explains why I have inherited such ape-hair genes.

So you keep riding on your camel until you reach Uzbekistan. If you are naively hoping for some sort of Borat adventure, then you can drop by in Kazakhstan. If you are penniless at this point and your camel has passed out, then I suggest that you halt your journey before you reach the borders of Afghanistan.

Recently I dug up remnants of my abandoned script. I thought to myself that if I am to complete this masterpiece once and for all, a lifetime journey to all the said places MUST be made within the next 3 years.

Not necessarily with a camel, though.

Success

2007-03-18T07:31:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: La Vita Non E' Un Film by ARTICOLO 31

A friend defined success by the following conditions:-

1) Achieve a 5 figure monthly salary by the time you are 25. (Not neccessarily in RM)
2) Work in a multinational company abroad.
3) Date/ Marry a trophy caucasian.
4) Own a vehicle in the league of a mini cooper.
5) Disowning your mothertongue in favour of the West.
6) Travelling to glamorous locations every month.
7) Having a legion of rich, decorative but dumb friends.

As you can tell, I have many dumb friends who try to impart their wisdom onto me. Que pena.

On the contrary I define success as the following:-

1) Being humble with a badass job that will toughen you for the future.
2) Coming home to a family who loves you in many strange ways.
3) Gathering the courage to leave an idyllic life behind in order to give your home country a second chance.
4) Being best buds with the postman.
5) Being able to speak Malay.
6) Not giving a damn about what other people do.

Last but not the least

7) Being IN LOVE.

Typically cheese, eh? I can assure you that you can love ANYTHING.

Bob Sinclar's LOVE GENERATION is a gem; a Perugian memorabilia which inspired me to hold my beer bottle up and propagate my love to everyone within sight. (of course, the word 'sleaze' should never apply).

But then again, you should never strive to love EVERYONE. There are multitudes of bastards and bitches out there whom you'd love to chuck them all into a ditch.

Problem is that there is no ditch big enough to accomodate their big asses.

Thus you could channel your lack of lovin' onto loving your Vincci pumps. Or your Doritos. Or your cocktails. Or your dog. Or your I- Pod. Or your brother. Or your secret longing to settle down in the Ukraine.

My point is: THERE ARE SO MANY STUFFS TO LOVE.

Unless you've just met with a deathly atrocity, don't you dare come wailing to me that you live an ardous life without love. The fact that you are whingeing nonsensically obviously shows that you carry more love onto yourself than the objects/people around you.

This, I call, SELF LOVE.

Believe it or not, love is infinite. I love my drinks. I love my CDs. I love the dysfunctional people around me. I love Fellini. I love my room. I love Saturdays. I love my tacky blonde highlights. I love foie gras. I love my Giovanni.

Despite all that PMS, I am actually a very successful 23 year old.

Sekian, terima kasih.

Eclipse

2007-03-11T10:56:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Grace Kelly by MIKA

A bugger once told me that moon eclipses have the rather strange ability to instigate a turn in events. Shortly after, another medieval prone bugger proclaimed that the most recent eclipse on March 3rd is nothing but a bad omen.

Well, there was an earthquake.

And I shall abstain from whining on the unneccesary loss of lives.
After all, there are so many unnecessary people walking the Earth as we speak.

Speaking of the unnecessary. I had an unnecessary migraine at work which took me to the rather unpleasant company GP.

Historically, this doctor has refused my numerous pleas for a medical certificate (MC) to take the day off work.

I know. It's my ah-lian bleached hair. Hence she tends to accuse me of cry wolf.

The last time I was plagued by a flu symptom, she promptly dismissed my pain claims as a mere hangover. Thus she refused to produce an MC to release my ailing body from work.

As a result of her negligence, I was hospitalised the following day due to a chronic tonsilitis.

Such a bitch, right? I could have sued her pants off.
But because I am such a godforsaken saint, I sparingly watched the injustice pass me by.
Karma, you better note my samaritan deeds, dingbat.

Last week, I had a dumbass PMS migraine that had me ending up in her clinic once again.

Me: Hi Doc, I am not feeling well.

Doc: (shuffling through a pile of stale notes) Okay, how do you feel?

Me:(groping my head to exaggerate the adversity) A sharp pain across my skull.

Doc: (gives me the standard 'I-know- you've- been -drinking' look) Okay...

Me: And I haven't been drinking. I never drink. (Part- Lie)

Doc: (scribbles a couple of hyroglyphic mess onto a stale card) Okay...

Me: So?

Doc: When was the last time you had your period?

Me: Early last month.

Doc: Regular?

Me: As regular as fries. Possibly a little late this month cos a few asses have been pissing the crap out of me.

Doc: (Looks at me. Attentively. For once.) Are you PREGNANT?

Me: W H A T ?
(turns into a dead fish. followed by a sudden urge to puke.)

Doc: (puts on a well rehearsed look of concern. Followed by the million dollar question..)
When was the last time you had sex?

Me: Heh?

(Pauses. Awkward Silence. )

Me: Hah?

(Thinks)

Me: (Breaks into a moronic manic giggle.) Doc, It's IMPOSSIBLE.

NO WAY.

HAHAHAHAH

NO WAY

VAFUNNNNNNCULO.

And I scored my very first MC after that.

Generosity

2007-03-03T09:17:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Tu Sei by VITTORIO

It takes a thousand good deeds and a thousand betrayals to realise that generosity is a lame virtue. Let me tell you why you ought to be selfish on a selective basis:

First of all, karma is a jealous whore. You could feed a beggar today. And joke about your neighbour tomorrow. Karma tends to retribute the latter with a rather mysterious adversity... or let's say, you are accused of stealing in a supermarket when, in actual fact, a roll of chewing gum had accidentaly fallen into your handbag.

The same applies to your secret desire to have Manyoo defeated tonight, but you find a hideous scratch on your car the next day.

Secondly, you could be one of those fortunate souls feeding an endless stream of leaches out of sheer good will. You think you are doing the world an enourmous good deed. Thus you keep feeding. It can go on for a year. Or a decade. And after all that hoolaballoo, you realise that YOU have not been fed.

The painful truth is, you will never be given pension broth by your leachy benefactors. Screw the saying that you should always help a friend in need. You should help a true soul in need.

And thirdly, you are too dumb to pinpont any of the above.

2007 has been a bitch because I am reaping the fruits of my generosity. As I witness those gleaming smiles unfold before my eyes, I ought to be happy.

Let's be honest, I am not. And thats because I allow myself to be emotionally gagged, beaten and milked by an ungrateful lot to get you where you are today. I wont use the term 'rape' because all these were done in my charitable consent.

I possess accurate intuitions. I chose to ignore warnings because I believed in second chances. And boy, what punishable mistakes I've made.

So many that I could compile them into an encyclopaedia. Such are the products of my stupidity.

Crap is, you have to confront many unpleasant truths as you age. It's like my delusion as to how France could have possibly defeated Spain in the World Cup.

WELCOME TO THE REAL WORLD

You cannot perform damage control in such situations. You can wail and cry until kingdom come but you can also choose to move on. To the rare few who are born with a good heart: only help those you love and not those whom you believe you can love. I think I've established my boundaries pretty blatantly.

Apart for those I love,

I AM GOING TO STOP FEEDING OTHER PEOPLE'S SUCCESS.

Thus I will start feeding my own.

For a change. :)

If you are getting the jitters from reading this particular post, well, then.. I've shot you point blank.

Valentine and the Golden Pig

2007-02-24T07:07:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Stop! Dimentica by TIZIANO FERRO

Hello Frog Prince,

THANK YOU FOR BEING MY VALENTINE '07

You were inexpensive, low maintenance and highly exclusive.

So let me tell you something.

On Valentine's Day. While strutting towards Ceylon Hill in my drunken stupor. I just HAD to bump into a certain prick.

Take a wild guess and click on the link below
READ THIS PATRONISING ARTICLE WHICH WAS ON THE NEWSIE TODAY

Scroll down the article. And you will see this:-
"It was THE GIRL from the office next door who suggested that he should audition..."

So...... WHO IS THIS GIRL? Your mak-cik from next door issit?

BATANG JAHANAM KONEK CIPAP PUKI MELANCAP

Okay, I will leave the full story with my closest friends. No point of me launching the Armada against a puny Z-list celebrity.
That aside.
CNY was a blast. Red Packets were a blast. Singapore was a blast.

Ooops. Did I say Singapore? Sorry. I didn't look anyone up when I was there...

Sorry... sorry... sorry.......

2007: Bitches & Revelations

2007-02-04T08:19:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Littlelest Things by LILY ALLEN

2007 is such a bitch. A BIG FAT ONE, that is. Even my friends agree. I am turning into a big fat bitch too. Thats because karma is a big-ass bitch.

WARNING: Quarter Life Crisis is sinking in.

Let's face it, we are all getting old. ALL OF US. Including your 3 month old brother.

Ageing is not necessarily a bad thing. Though it is never possible to halt your biological clock, some of us tend to look better when we are older.

This picture appeared in the national newsie approx 5 years ago. (Boh Sia, minta maaf tapi jangan bunuh saya.)

Can you spot every one of us below in the above? (Clue: Syat had lovely hair then...)

I am so glad that we look the way we do now. The only crappy thing is that I haven't lost much weight nor enhanced my pulling power since. The only improved formula has got to be my hair.

THIS YEAR, I AM GOING LOCAL.

I've been whingeing too much over Europe and I reckon that it is time to prove that I am of true Chinese Malaysian blood. While every other compatriot is heading to China to learn Mandarin, I am going to IMPROVE MY MALAY BIG TIME. I want to be Melayu by the end of the year. Slut, Trish and Meera are probably falling off their chairs at this point.

HANGAT!!!!!!!! B*TA*G DAN C*PAP!?!?!!?!?

Someone commented that my Cantonese has improved over the past year. That is so truly wicked because I can start dabbling in random Mandarin to impress Wang Lee Hom. Or I can start listening to Jay whats-his-name.

Last week, I was in Penang. It kicked ass because that was the first time I stepped onto a beach since September 2006.

MALAYSIA DOES HAVE VERY DECENT BEACHES. THAT'S IF THE FRIGGING CLOUDS FUG OFF. What happened to those days when we had blue skies that could put the Mediterranean to shame? Blame those forest fires which considerably never stops combusting. Ever heard of The Good Neighbour?

To prolong my sanity in this urban decay, I have a resolution to travel to a local beach every month. I need to feel that I am no longer a stranger in this country that has been such a bitch to me.

I need to see more of life outside of Kuala Lumpur.

Perhaps, this year, I will be a better person. And god's sake I need more acting jobs to sustain my forsaken passion. I am sick of seeing those pseudo caucasians on local telly.

As of tommorrow, I am back in my 12 hour corporate job which will strip me of any time nor inspiration to blog. Thats why this is such a long ass post.

The good thing is that I will be somewhat richer than I used to be.

And that also means that I could return to Italia soon. :)

Life aint that bitchy....

Passera

2007-01-18T03:17:00.000Z

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.....

2007-01-08T11:27:00.000Z

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? ;)

Sogni d'oro

2006-12-24T00:55:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Don't Cry by GUNS N' ROSES

It is 2:20 am and I am unusually sober. In 5 hours I will leave Perugia for a Spanish Christmas in Marbella. Thus, this will be my final post for the year 2006; a year that has been truly blessed, fantaaabulous and exceedingly fortunate. I've always been, and will always be a lucky puppy.

Perhaps it is true that some good things are destined to a bittersweet end. A minute ago I received a particular SMS that brought instant tears to my eyes.

It reads:
"No posso dormire. Vorrei con te ora, vorrei baciare le tue labra, abracciare il tuo corpo e potermi addormentare vicino al tuo dolce respiro. Baci Amore."

This pains me. And I will give anything to lie beside you at this very moment. My heart cries out for your touch and I grieve deeply on your absence. We are miles apart.

And by tommorow morning, I will be further away.
By 1st January 2007, I will almost be a world apart from you.

Things will never be the same. But life goes on.
To my dearest Giovanni, thank you for giving me a chance to be in love. It is something which I thought I was never able to do.

This is my favourite picture of us because we seem so.. chubby and happy. And we were hideously drunk, too. I know photos will never do you justice since you keep running away from cameras.

If you try to believe me for once, you are the most gorgeous man I've ever met. Remember how I always told you that you were perfect? Well, I MEANT IT. So don't argue with me over this again, va bene?

My dear stronzo, I know I suck when it comes to cooking. You are the perfectionist. You wouldn't even let me touch you when you are just chucking pasta into the pan. In spite of all your particularity, all the best Italian food comes from you. I didn't want to tell you because I know you'd get all vain.

Strangely, I love you for that. The way you drown yourself with Moschino scent, how you only wear black long-sleeved shirts and your lowcut jeans which I always have to pull your shirt down to avoid any show of butt cracks. Maybe its an Italian sense of style, boh? If you haven't noticed, both our wardrobes consist of 80% black clothings. I think we both have an issue with our fats.

Despite how you (purposely) confuse Il Divo with Take That, be assured that I will choose you over Sebastien Izambard any day. You do not need a fancy yacht and an Armani suit to look sexy.

Before we got together, I never wanted to date Italian men. But your brother's birthday at Etoile made all the difference. It was only our third encounter, but you claimed me several times as your girlfriend to stop those dodgy dudes from harassing me.

Come on, you were drunk but you didn't admit it. Sei cativo sempre.

Before I met you, your housemates kept harping about how wonderful and kind you are. I think they did most of the courtship on your behalf.

I never thought that you'd ever set eyes on a sea urchin like me. I still fell for you anyway.

Everyday, you'd walk me from Via XX Settembre to Via Delle Cantine with my hands in yours. And in those several nights when I was deadly drunk, you'd leave your guy friends behind just to bring me home safely. (Although at most times you were probably drunk yourself.) And while you did that, you'd always hang my smoky jacket in the cupboard, store my stinky boots and fold my stale socks. Then you'd lie next to me just to make sure I wont choke and die from my own puke.

However, the most beautiful part was to wake up beside you. I felt safe.

I could talk about you the entire day. But it'd make me cry. It is difficult because you are so far away from me. I realised I have become very emotionally dependant on you because I am actually falling in love with you.

This morning was the hardest. I was pretending to be asleep but I was watching you get ready to leave. You changed into the shirt I bought for you.

I was buried too deep into my tears even to tell you how gorgeous you looked in it.

As we bid farewell, you looked me in the eye and told me that I was beautiful. Eventhough my eyes were deadly swollen from a whole night of crying on your pillow.

Eversince you left, Perugia suddenly seems like a sad city. Remember the route that we usually take through to Piazza Italia? I walked it on my own today and I was crying throughout the way. I really miss the way you would push me up the 70 degree slope.

I miss you. I miss your nonsense. I miss your half-boiled English. I will keep harping on your confusion betweeen 'chicken' and 'kitchen'.

But I have to let you go. It kills me but I know you deserve better. We spoke about it. I guess we know each other too well.

I will cherish the memories. Meanwhile, dont forget me okay? Or I will gladly expose your embarassing stuffs.

Ti Voglio Tanto Bene. Sei vivi en mi cuore per sempre....

And I promise you that I will stop crying by the time I get to Spain. This will be one of the most emotional festive seasons I will ever have to go through. But you told me to stay strong. I will try my best.

Dolci Baci,
Lyn xxx
----------------------

While I wrestle with me emo..... I'd like to wish all my dear friends...

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAVE A SMASHING NEW YEAR!!!!!

I've been loved, and thus my love for others is infinite.

Till 2007 :)

Ciao, Arivederci: THE GRAND FINALE.

2006-12-20T18:47:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Love Generation by BOB SINCLAIR

This week is all about GOODBYES. The much dreaded word on everybody's lips, with the exception for those who are pretty sick of trampling on doggy poo in Perugia.

I think I've come a long way since writing the very first chapter on my Italian stint three months ago. I used to despise the dodgy Italian men, the doggy poo and the non-english speaking crowd.

Oh, how much that has changed. You know that when you have left an impression on this little town when you see your name published on thousands of pub flyers distributed across the city.

Spot my name, will you?
I think it is all that binge drinking.
Perugia have taught me a DONT STRESS. JUST DRINK attitude which I will adopt for the rest of my twenties. Pascal and I adore that philosophy.

All that puking, street brawling and disjointed Italian public chants will be missed. Unfortunately, I can't continue this shameless legacy when I am back home in Malaysia. Lisa loves her drinks as much as I do.

I said goodbye to my London pals: John, Steph and Rocky (who's obviously not in the picture) for their brief but wonderful visit to Italy. Not only have they tolerated my drunken antics, they listened to my I- will- miss- Perugia woes.
I MISS THE THREE OF YOU.

To prove that I've actually been attending classes for the past three months, here's a photo I took with my cheeky little brother from Hong Kong during the final LabAudio session. We were too busy camwhoring at the back of class.

I will miss the 20 odd-people from all corners of the globe in my tutorials. They actually attend more classes than I do. It's amazing how the strange lot of us get along so damn well.

Then there's Andrea. The bar dude in my university who makes the best ciocalata calda. The one who has tolerated my hangover complaints every morning. A wonderful friend who has seen me in my most drunken stupor.

Anton and Astrix from Holland is an inspiring couple who have gone through thick and thin. I wish them every happiness. This month stands as their first year wedding anniversary and they are planning to buy a house in Italy. Anton is one of the rare few who indulges in foie gras as much as I do.

I said goodbye to Giovanni's pet turtle in his backyard. I fell in love with this creature before I fell for him.

I said goodbye to Kwan, the other Malaysian scholar who has been a very supportive and wonderful friend. She left for Paris this morning.

There are thousands of photos which I'd love to put up on this grand finale. Strangely speaking, I'm certain that I will miss everybody: my drink buddies, my weeding buddies, my skiving buddies, my bimbotic buddies, my stalkers, my club PRs, the construction builders opposite my flat, the grocery man, the postman, my landlady, the bartenders and the homeless dudes near the fountain.

I guess life will be different. I felt this familliar sadness when I left Malaga last year. Perhaps it is a little heavier this time.

Grazie mille, Perugia.
Ci Vediamo Dopo.

The farewell party is tonight. I will drink myself very silly and dance to Bob Sinclar for the last time in a very long time.....

Of X'mas and other things.

2006-12-11T22:05:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Falling In Love by LISA LOEB

Yesterday I had a pointless conversation with a friend from my home country:
---------

Bimbo: My boyfriend is buying me the Sony Ericsson MP3 phone for X mas!!! I am so lucky!!

Me: Wow, you lucky tart.
Me thinks: okay.. if a piece of hardware makes you happy...

Bimbo: What is your boy getting you?

Me: Dunno. But he's cooking his mum's recipe for me! So it's all nice!
Me thinks: I'm the luckiest girl in the world!

Bimbo: And... ?

Me: We'll do the usual. Am spending lots of quality time with him before he goes home to Salerno for Christmas. And I am leaving for Spain on Xmas eve.
Me thinks: I will be heartbroken. I will probably not see him for a long time after that.

Bimbo: I see...... He's not following you back to Malaysia?

Me: It's alright cos he's very broke. You know, the poor dear is still a student and this is his final year. I need him to concentrate on his books and not tail me around.
Me thinks: Trust me, I know.

Bimbo: Your friend X told me you bought him a Sisley shirt from Florence!!!

Me: Yeah, he looks so hot in it I could die!!! I was so relieved I got the right size...
Me thinks: Swooooooooooooon

BImbo: And he didn't get you anything?

Me: Why should he? I just gave it to him today!
Me thinks: Brace yourself, Lyn. Bimbo is embarking on an inquisition.

Bimbo: No, no.. your friend X and I were talking about you the other day. We'd thought that you'd date some Tan Sri's son or some sort of upper middle class family friend.....

Me: Why do you say that? I was never in love with any of those spoilt brats to begin with. In fact, the ones I know are imbeciles who only have eyes for anorexic gold-diggers.
Me thinks: Jeez, those stupid rich kids who drive their father's cars.

Bimbo: I know, but a girl should always date a man who can pamper or keep up with her lifestyle. it's a sense of social security....

Me: You are beginning to sound provincial.
Me thinks: I think you are dumb. As usual.

Bimbo: No offence... but some people will bitch about you when you go home.

Me: Really? Bitch about how happy I am?
Me thinks: Nothing new. The price of fame.

Bimbo: You know, about you dating a poor Italian student for a short period and stuffs...

Me: Well, I am a student too and I've been poor eversince I left my job. I'm in my first steady relationship with a man who treats me with love and respect. He may be a pauper but I don't need him to buy me a Fendi bag to make me the happiest girl in the world.
Me thinks: I feel the urgency to hold an exclusive press conference on my lovelife.

Bimbo: But handbags are your true love!

Me: I said that when I WAS single. It's all different now, honey. And if I am dying for bags, I can surely afford them myself.
Me thinks: I am soooooo looking forward to cope with this type of material-cow mentality when I return to Malaysia. I certainly cant live without these morons.

In 11 days, I will leave Perugia's simple life. Just as I'm falling in love with it.

-------

In case you were wondering where I've disappeared to last weekend,

I WAS HERE.

It was more crooked than I thought. Oh, I also visited Perugia's rival town:
SIENA

This is for you, JENN. I forced her to skip Siena for Perugia.

Blame the bad photography on my makeshift aka. broken camera. I need a new one.

*hint hint*

Ti Voglio Tanto Bene

2006-12-03T19:57:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Caruso by IL DIVO

Honestly speaking, I had second thoughts on posting the previous entry on the site. It was certainly the most difficult entry to write.

I thought that I might have exposed too much of my vulnerability.

But beneath all the EMO outcry, it made me realise that there are so many people like you who care.

THANK YOU

Really. Thanks. I am very grateful for all your moving comments. I didn't want anyone to feel sorry for me nor to sing prasies to boost my self esteem.

But it is the sincerity in all your comments that touched me the most.

GRAZIE. GRACIAS. MERCI.

I think this turn in my life has sparked off the appreciative and sensitive side of me. I am a changed person. From now on, I vow never to scare pigeons away from my window.

La vita bella. I love you.

-----------------------
OKAY. ENOUGH OF ALL MY EMO CRY-CRY DECLARATIONS. USUAL TRANSMISSION RESUMES NOW.

Life just gets better. Some kickass news to share with you this week.

Suenos y realidad....... esperando por ti.....

I AM GOING BACK TO ESPANA!!!!!!!!!!!!
ITS BEEN A YEAR. Once again I will be painting the town, erm, RED, with my dearest Andalucian beauty CARACOLA!!!! Ohhhhh.... MALAGA, MARBELLA e ESTEPONA....... I AM COMING HOMEEEEEEE FOR CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!

Oh god, my tan has faded.

Just when I am missing my cheesy but wicked London gang...

JOHN, ROCKY AND STEPH ARE VISITING ME IN PERUGIA!!!!!
I love them. In two weeks, I will acquaint them with bottles of Umbrian champagne and greasy pizzas. (ESPECIALLY FOR JOHN: mayonaise drenched kebab)

Last but not least.... show my ex-hubby some love

IL DIVO'S NEW ALBUM 'SIEMPRE' IS OUT NOW.. GET IT. ALL OF YOU!!!!
I swear on my grave that this is a wicked album. GET THIS ALBUM OR I WILL SEND OUT THE WOLVES ON YOU.No excuses.

One more thing: I'VE GOT THE FRONT ROW TICKET FOR JANUARY 16th.

Do me a favour, just dont ask me how much it costs, k?

One Reason Why I Do Not Want to Leave Perugia

2006-11-29T20:05:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Sei Parte Di Me by ZERO ASSOLUTO

It's quite funny that when you are close to a crisis, God suddenly picks you up with a beautiful blessing that will make you think twice about throwing your life off the hill. This time last week, I was suffering from a chronic eating disorder that has been wrecking me every now and then, especially when I am down.

Very down.

I was down because I had PMS. I was down because I was told that I was fat. I was down because apart from all that alcohol, there wasn't really much to do. I was down because the weather was downright wintry. I was down because a group of trusted friends in Perugia turned their backs on me.

But such is life. Shit happens. When you tell yourself and everyone that everything is wonderful, it is actually not quite the case.

I know, it was the PMS getting to me. But it was also the time of the month when all that bottled-up insecurities start eating you.

My self esteem hit rock bottom. I was compared to the skinny, tiny girls of my race. I was surrounded by the blonde, leggy girls of the other race. And here I was; stubby, short and fat.

I've always been that way. I was blessed enough to be brought up with luxurious food. I was never hungry.

In my massive extended family of 30+ cousins, I am the least attractive of them all. Trust me, this is a family where skin and bones is considered beautiful and successful. I am obviously the loser of that race.

But you know, I have my immediate family who will never disown me no matter how fat and ugly I become. I have such wonderful girlfriends who will never laugh at the hideous size of my calves. I am so blessed in that way.

As you can tell, I am very insecure about my looks. I cannot help it. Blame it on the circumstances I trap myself in, in all my failed auditions to win an acting job as well as the men who have abused me.

Yes. I am confronting my past. It pains me to do so, but i know the day will come when i have to write about this.

I have only dated two men in my life. These are the rare times when I actually gave my heart to another living soul with such great expectations like a lovelorn puppy. In the end, I got nothing back from the two.

First one dumped me because I refused to spend the night with him. And commented that I wasn't fit.
Second one dumped me because he was getting popular with the M'sian crowd, and had two other anorexic girlfriends at the same time.

Both refused to hold my hand in public. And if the contact times are calculated properly, both relationships lasted less than a week.

Of course I was devastated. As both men were commercially attractive, I blame it upon myself on the fact that I was simply ugly. I poisoned my mind with so much of self hate that I found it almost impossible to fall in love. In a way to redeem myself, I diverted all that hopelessness in lusting over Sebastien from Il Divo. As well as binge-eating.

I told some close friends that I was taking a break in Perugia to escape and reevaluate. I did not come here to look for love. Of course, people expected me to come here to get laid by Totti lookalikes.

2 months have passed and the idea of picking up strangers just didn't seem lucrative to me. So I stuck to getting drunk and dancing to Bob Sinclair.

A man walked into my life 7 days ago, and has stayed eversince. For me, this is amazing. Simply because for the last seven days we have been inseparable.

Burdened by my insecurities, I expected him to leave me after 2 days but he didn't.

He came to me when I was ill, laid down beside me and made sure that I was okay. He covered me with a warm duvet when he realised that the temperature will be dropping to 0 degrees that night. He told me jokes so that I would look at him and smile.

Even if it meant a 30min walk in the cold across Perugia, he will still come and see me everyday. He isn't ashamed to introduce me to his friends, though he knows the whole of this little town. In the club, he will look out for me, and if a man ever harasses me while I am having fun, he'd claim me as his girlfriend.

He treats my friends with equal respect.

He walks me home to the door, come rain or shine. He cooks for me in his home, and made sure I was never hungry. He will fill the refrigerator with the food and we can both get drunk on champagne.
And the most beautiful thing he has ever said to me was,

'Lyn, please eat.'

It made me cry. This is because an ex-boyfriend actually starved me because he thought I was fat.

I feel loved. I have never felt this way before. Even if he leaves me tomorrow, I will be forever grateful for the last seven days.

As my buddy Jenn tells me,

'YOU ARE IN DEEP TROUBLE.'

I think I am.

Juice and Spoleto

2006-11-27T12:51:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Malo by BEBE

This morning my dearest Boh-Sia Girlfriend sent me a picture that appeared in this month's Juice magazine.

Who would have thought that this girl had a gallon of Long Island waiting to pour out of her digestives. (Thanks, Slut and Trish... for handling me plastic bags in the car). Besides, when the heck was this picture taken? I vaguely recall cam-whoring at the Velvet Member's Party. And what's with that ultra-lame diva pose?

Again, I thank the Lord that they didn't publish names.

If you're interested, the lovely boy is Casey, otherwise known as my friend-stealer. He's really cool so you can date him if you wish.

I can't stop jeering at my distorted arms. I look like a drunk maniac. The papparazzi is EVIL. This has to be the worst commercial picture of myself in living memory. (okay, second to my bikini/ cheesy 'love your body' feature in London's New Woman magazine last year or the very ugly Eversoft informercial on telly this year... the list is growing.)

Why can't they publish better photos such as this:

I will have to do some damage control in January 2007.

Okay, back to ITALIA.

Last weekend I journeyed to the sleepy medieval town of SPOLETO. There isn't much to brag about, except for this centuries old aqueduct which is known to be ideal place to take your (or somebody else's) life.

It's pretty grand and eerie. And it's apparently cool to push somebody off the bridge here. I have a long list of names for that sole purpose.

Oh, my scholarship money came out. I am all happy and rich now. As long as I have the decency to keep an eye on expenses, I no longer have to down cheap vodka and sleep on the streets for the following month.

Guess what? When it comes to manhunt, I am no longer in the market for Perugia.

That riddle will be explained in the next post.

Stay Tuned, CATIVIIIIIIIIIII!!!!!!!

PERUGIA-10 Random Facts

2006-11-22T17:05:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Walking Away by THE EGG

Lord knows how swiftly time flies. 5 weeks left till the end of my Italian stint.

I can't, quite, digest that either. To my secondary despair my camera broke.

OUCH

Thats okay. Memories and experiences are eternal. I am never obliged to share them with you anyway.

Apart from the very useful Italian foul words.
Oh, and 10 random facts about this bizzarre city.

1) This is the TOWN CENTER. Small, I know. You see the stairs behind the fountain? I used to do my Italian homework there when I first arrived until it got dreadfully cold. Plus, my yellow skin was also attracting lots of unnecessary attention from asianphiles.

Everyday after midnight, 100s of student-drunkards (including me) will pile themselves on the steps chanting mangled Italian and throwing plastic cups at each other. (glass bottles are prohibited after 10pm for obvious reasons)

2) By law, smoking is not allowed in all pubs and nightclubs in Italy. Of course, you do get the occasional idiot who lights up and causes an inferno.

3) Crime Rate in Perugia is almost nil. But that doesn't mean you can leave your flat with its doors open.

4) Somewhere along every 100m of the city's pedestrian paths, you are bound to have nearly missed a mountain of dog poo.

5) RnB is not big here. HOUSE is BIG. I think its due to the lack of English lyrics in the latter.

6) You can never catch any non-Italian matches live. Be it champs league or coconut cup. You can search till the world's end and the pub owners would never have heard of AR-SE-NAL.

7) 2/3 of the student population does marijuana. So don't bother calling the police. Thank You.

8) 60% of the student population are below 21. Depravation has forced me to lie about my age on several occasions.

9) A full length CD (yes, they do have half-length samplers with incomplete songs) costs 20 Euros.

10) PERUGIA IS SMALL. DON'T DO ANYTHING STUPID.

La Settimana Discoteca

2006-11-18T15:22:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: My Love by JUSTIN TIMBERLAKE

Dear DISCO BALL,

I've been capitalising on my teacher's absence. Yeah, I know I shouldn't. I am a worthy scholar. I should recite my Italian verb tables 5 hours everyday. Y'know, I am working so hard on doctorate level sentences such as, 'Hi. My name is Lyn. I am from Malaysia. I am 23. I am here to learn Italian. I love pasta...'

CAZZO

Lessons don't do anything for me. Truth is, I pick up the most useful Italian phrases from pagan hangouts such as the DISCOTECA. Its all thanks to you, Mr Disco Ball, for tempting me. Well, you make me get up and dance. And be merry. And be drunk. Despite all the U-20 boys who constantly surround (haunt) me eversince I stepped foot onto this country, you are the reason why I married Bob Sinclar in an impromptu ceremony.

Look at the pile of first year undergrads in this party. Why do they all flood Perugia? Surely they are all below 21 and should be arrested for some sort of under-age alcohol consumption and juvenile boh-sia. No point telling the polizia. I should have the Mafia lock them all up instead.

Or why don't YOU collapse onto them?

Somewhere along the lines of Phantom Of The Opera. Y'know, the scene where the Phantom is sawing the chandelier?

Love Generation aside.

Mr Disco Ball, you are also making me FAT. Because I've turned into a nocturnal creature, I have this daily innate craving for wholesome KEBABS. I may proclaim my undying love for mayonaise drenched kebabs, but all that double portion and extra garlic sauce is adding even more inches to my elephant hips. But I wont hold you responsible for all of it, at least having a kebab is the only time I actually eat vegetables.

So it's not all that bad isn't it? A swiss friend once told me that pasta is the best hangover cure. And because I suffer from this sort of migraine almost every afternoon, I am officially the maker of groundbreaking pasta. No more Carbonara. I discovered the Gevonese.

Life's good, I know. And I will be seeing you again tonight.

I can't wait. Dance with me. And Bob Sinclair.

Abbraccio,
Lyn xxx

Go South

2006-11-14T11:14:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Rock This Party by BOB SINCLAIR

I've been waking up to non-existent classes and I am collapsing from the lack of sleep. Don't ask me why. I am too lazy to write. Just indulge in the pictures.

We were given 2 miserable hours to run across the entire city of POMPEII.
CAZZO. It's like asking you to circle Hyde Park 8 times in 1 hour. CAZZO!

WITHOUT A MAP.

Can you see the mighty Vesuvius in the background?

Here's something for the bored:
CLICK ON THE PHOTO BELOW TO ENLARGE AND SEE IF YOU CAN SPOT ME AMIDST THE RUINS.

The infamous lava-coated people. Everyone's been asking me about them. Well, they just look like, chocolate manequins.

After doing a 2 hour marathon run across the city of Pompeii, I had to SCALE MOUNT VESUVIUS.

IS THIS A BOOT CAMP OR WHAT

Cazzo. Mount Vesuvius is a frigging huge volcano. We were expected to hike to the crater and down again before sunset. That gives us, let's say, 2 HOURS

My shit photography doesn't do the volcano justice. You have to see it yourself to believe how magnificently HUGE it is. I bullshitted the rest of the troupe to believe that if you throw a stone into the crater, all your wishes will come true.

Within seconds, every gullible person in sight were flinging stones into the crater. This sudden meteoric shower was a great way to wake a dormant volcano.

Damn, I was THAT convincing.

We arrived NAPOLI the next day. The capital of theft and Pasolini-esque characters.

And it was raining. Like hell.

As usual I was under-dressed. Cold. Hungry.

And WITHOUT AN UMBRELLA .

That's Amore

2006-11-10T18:55:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Rock Steady by ALL SAINTS

In NAPOLI where love is king
When boy meets girl
Here's what they say....

(Lyn dances around the room with a hairbrush)

When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie
That's amore

(Lyn gets smacked by an oncoming pizza)

When the world seems to shine like you've had too much wine
That's amore

(Lyn downs five shots of limoncello)

Bells will ring ting-a-ling-a-ling, ting-a-ling-a-ling
And you'll sing "Vita bella"

(Lyn takes to the streets of Perugia chanting, 'IL DIVO- TI AMEROOOOO!')

Hearts will play tippy-tippy-tay, tippy-tippy-tay
Like a gay tarantella

When the stars make you drool just like a pasta fazool
That's amore

(Lyn pukes out hot liquid)

When you dance down the street with a cloud at your feet
You're in love

(Lyn attempts a quadaxel jump on a cobbled slope)

When you walk in a dream but you know you're not
Dreaming signore

(Lyn crashes back into her room half conscious)

Scuzza me, but you see, back in old Napoli

That's AMORE

(Lyn passes out)

This weekend: I am spending the night in a VOLCANO and I will be dancing all the way to NAPOLI.....

I am falling in love with Italia.

RAGAZZO Parte 2

2006-11-07T17:32:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Svegliarsi la mattina by ZERO ASSOLUTO

My second trip to MILANO ROCKED. Though not as fabulastic as ROMA but I've achieved my primary target of material satisfaction for this month. The only arduous endeavours were the 6 hour train rides that comprised of sitting next to stinky old geezers, perverted asianphillic Europeans and wailing toddlers who deserved a tight smack on the face. Fux. So much for two nights in Milan.

Speaking of long-haul train rides, I miss the infamous RED ARROW which my family and I took from Moscow to St Petersburg. It's an overnight train ride through the subzero terrains of the Soviet Union, and boy, check out that glee in my face. (below)

In my previous post, I went into a temporary frenzy and complained about the lack of gentlemen I've encountered so far. This morning, given sunshine through my frozen windows, I decided to count my blessings.

The solution to my woes was simple: OPEN MY EYES TO THOSE AROUND ME.

I did a shortlist of gentlemen candidates in my vast directory of random friends in Italia. And hooray. I found TWO.

TWO!

DUE!

DOS!

DUA!

DEUX!

I shocked myself there as I've expected the good specie to be extinct.
Thus I will decribe the two candidates briefly here and YOU VOTE THE WINNER. (I promise you that I wont stalk them....)

CANDIDATO NUMERO UNO

Name: THE NAMELESS BAR BOY WHO WORKS IN MY UNIVERSITY CAFETERIA.

Age: Approx 25-28

Good Points: Makes amazing cafe e latte and unlike most Italianos, this clean shaven dude has NEVER shortchanged me.
Never fails to greet me at 8:30am every morning (Mondays to Wednesdays) with a boyband smile while putting up with my almost daily hangover sulk. Consistantly hands me the BEST CHOCOLATE CROISSANT and predicts that I will (always) order acqua minerale - naturale each time I loiter at the counter. Feels sorry for my inability multitask: to dig out coins from my purse while juggling the croissant on the other hand. Thus he has learnt to carry my food while I rummage for lose change.

Basic manners: SUPERB.

Bad Points: Has never asked for my name. Hence I've not asked for his.

CANDIDATO NUMERO DUE

Name: Withheld for privacy. MY FRIENDS' ITALIAN HOUSEMATE.

Age: 25

Good Points: SPEAKS ENGLISH. (thank god!) Lives with the other two Malaysian scholars and I've been hearing fantastic stuff about him EVERYDAY. Apparently makes the best pizza in the world. Chubby, I like. And he knows how to fix the heater. Respects the fact that I LOVE Bob Sinclair.
Helps his homesick housemates whenever possible. And drinks. And clubs. ALOT. Makes wonderful sangrias. Even rescued me from a probable stalker by claiming that I was his girlfriend. PHWOAR. It's so rare for a man to be proud of me.

Basic Manners: Nice.

Bad Points: He seems slightly more smitten with the prettier housemates. Or maybe its because he lives with them. Non Lo So. Or maybe I am fat.

----------------------------

ITS YOUR CALL: CANDIDATE UNO or CANDIDATE DUE?

RAGAZZO

2006-11-01T11:30:00.000Z

Crooning on my STEREO: Starlight by MUSE

HAPPY HALLOWEEN, BASTARDS.

nah, kidding. Welcome to the decadent life of bladder poisoning.

Screw the notion that every Italian is a carbon copy of Rudolph Valentino. I'm very sore from the fact that MEN HAVE NOT BOUGHT ME DRINKS SINCE I STEPPED FOOT HERE. Sure, I pay for the rounds and end up skint for the rest of the night. I am so used to having to find my way back on my own after that. Thankfully, I have become such a PRO at it after 8 years of practice.

You men pay for the drinks. and ask for my money back.

WHAT?

ASK FOR MY MONEY BACK?

CAZZO

Let's get real, you will never meet gentlemen in clubs everywhere around the world. I can testify that.

Unless you are PRETTY. Or HOT. Even the biggest prick will morph into a subservient bellboy.

TO ALL ANOREXIA-LOVING BASTARDS:
I HOPE YOU FALL OFF THE CLIFF

You have no idea how much I despise your type. It's all because of you that I've got myself into some sort of atkins-gone-wrong weight gain. Yeah, I binge on 3 kebabs a day because I KNOW I will never be a size 0. I drink and dance because I LOVE BOB SINCLAIR. And dont come back to me whingeing that you choose personality over looks.

I KNOW MY PERSONALITY ROCKS, OKAY?

You guys are just DUMB. Let me tell you something,

TI FACCIO UN CULO COSI!!!!!!!

I love my wonderful girlfriends. You all know who you are. Here's a abbraccio grande (big hug) from a rarely sunny Kew Gardens.

Back to handing out pub flyers on the street.

Torta!!!!!

2006-10-28T16:42:00.002+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Sei Parte Di Me by ZERO ASSOLUTO

Surprise!! Surprise!! I aint travelling out of the sH*T hole* this week. We're doing some sort of a run-up to HALLOWEEN followed by an unknown (to me, anyway) public holiday sometime next week. So there's lots of gatecrashing and kebab-ing to do.....

Today is a good Italian friend's birthday. And because I am one of the scarce few who live in the town center, I was delegated the pleasant task of buying a birthday cake. Or torta di compleanno as they may call it.

Why buying a cake in PERUGIA is a pain-in-the-ass.

1. Cake shops do not open on weekends.
2. The really good bakeries are very well hidden in the peripheries.
3. Even if you find them, they solo parle Italiano
4. I don't have a car.
5. Buses tend to disorientate you by driving through marshes and bushes.

With my usual luck I found an obscure chocalatier 800m away from my doorstep. CHOCALATIER. Yes, you read it right. They shouldn't sell cakes. They sell, CHOCOLATE.**

No sh*t.

After a near miss from a car trying to run me down while crossing the road, I found something remniscent to a CAKE.

THANK GOD. I dont care whats inside. Be it egg, bacons or bananas. I dont even care what's written on top. Whatever.

The next mission: FINDING A CANDLE.

fuck. where the hell do they sell candles in this sh*thole?

----------------
SIDENOTES

* Perugia is a sh*thole because no amount of animal poo in the zoo can beat the amount of doggy sh*t we have on the streets here.

**Chocolates = Perugia's Pride. Probably the only thing we are famous for. The world famous choc BACI originated from a Perugian based company that is very creatively named Perugina.

Italian for Slackers

2006-10-24T17:38:00.001+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Girl From Mars by ASH

I tend to forget that I am on a study scholarship. The first time I conveniently missed class was when I lost my timetable. The second time, I was too smashed. And the third.... well, I decided to board the next train to Florence with my drink bud Jen just to go on a pub crawl. The day after, I went to Roma for the third time.

It's been three weeks since I set foot onto grand ol' Italia. Despite all that skyving and napping in class, I'd like to share with you the product of my sponsored education.

Handy Italian Phrases

1. CIAO!
Means both HELLO and GOODBYE. Probably my most overused greeting to please the builders on the scaffoldings facing my window.

2. GRAZIE
If this word doesn't ring a bell, then you're seriously dumb. Pronounce it as 'Gra- Zia' to show that you're in tune with the local dialect.

3. DOVE E ..... ?
Translates into 'Where is..... '. To date I've used this more than 150 times, so much that I have perfected it to sound like a local. Truth is, everyone is bound to get lost somewhere in Italy.

4. COME S'TAI?
Foreign students in Italy ADORE asking this countless times in one day. It just means ,'How Art Thou?'. To shut them up, just reply as per below:

5. STONO DI MERDA
Means 'I am shit.' Not exactly friendly, but they should get the drift.

6. NO CAPISCO/ NO LO SO/ NO CAPITO
The best phrase to rid ugly old men picking you up in a local bar. Chances are, they will try to speak to you in basic Italian or half-boiled English. Whatever it is, just keep saying 'I don't know.' Works everytime, I tell ya.

7. HO UN REGAZZO/ UNA REGAZZI
Another failproof sentence to ward off ugly schoolboys trying to take you home from a club. Say the sentence above (means 'I have a boyfriend/girlfriend') and point to the nearest bloke or chick. Becareful that you dont point to the asker's friend.

8. CUANTO COSTA?
The shopper's favourite question ,'How much is this?'. For security reasons I tend to ask this twice to make sure that the pricetag doesn't differ from what the shopkeeper charges. I can confirm that the Italians are brilliant mathematicians.

9. UNA KEBAB CON TROPPO MAIONESE, PER FAVORE
Self Explanatory. I love kebab. Have always loved them more than my handbags.

10. FIGLIO DE PUTANA
This was the first useful words Beckham learnt in Spanish: 'Hijo De Puta.'

10 useful phrases to begin with. Meanwhile, I will go back into some sort of chocolate partying which only Perugia is famous for...

Selamat Hari Raya and Happy Deepavali, my friends!!!!!

ROMA

2006-10-18T17:13:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Watch You by LEE CABRERA

Excuse my Il Divo worship in the previous post. Sometimes one gets too carried away when receiving such climactic news. I guess I just wrecked my reputation right there.

Besides the point, my second trip to Rome within the last 6 years has confirmed this:

I LOVE ROME.

Suddenly, Perugia seems like a shithole. It doesn't help when the first person you walk into as you arrive Umbria was YOUR STALKER. Then again, it is the job of a stalker to stage coincidences. Such a cow.

ROMA has its charm. Something tells me that this love has something to do with La Dolce Vita

Fellini. Giulietta Massina. Nino Rota. Anita Ekberg. Trevi Fountain. It all seemed so, beautiful.

And it all seemed such a long time ago.

Yes. I am getting all heavily nostalgic about lost dreams and aspirations. It's like glancing at a passing train in a subway. You kinda, just, missed it.

(thanks to my Slutirah for the pose in the Roman Metro, thankfully we missed the train crash the day after.)

Gone were the days of bald monks in the Vatican City. Nowadays you have those with semi-aviator shades and Von Dutch caps.
And lord, I look so puffed up and pale in this picture. Kindly disregard me. I hope I don't usually look this stale.

I miss the past. For those of you who have watched the Russian Ark and felt its bittersweet aftertaste, you will understand how I feel about reminiscence.

This particular staircase in St Petersburg's Hermitage was where the film's closing scene was shot. I am truly honoured to have pranced (and not trip) on it.

For the ignorant lot, the picture above was taken in RUSSIA. NOT ITALY.

-----------------------

Okay, I am getting all emo. I think it is due to the RM2000 (500 Euro) Il Divo tickets.

Senza Fine

2006-10-15T18:44:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Talk by COLDPLAY

At this point I am so delirious. I've just stumbled out of a wicked Roman weekend but there's a piece of news which I'd like to share with you NOW.

I don't even want to blog about ROMA, yet.

Guess what? I've nagged to God about this so many times. This poor little spinster has finally seen a ray of hope.

*drum rolls*

THE MAN OF MY DREAMS WILL BE VISITING MALAYSIA IN JANUARY.

I love him. I've lusted over him for two years. I dream of marrying him. I come running to him when truckload of fuggers let me down. He has been my muse for all my soppy screenplays.

I've travelled the world looking high and low for him.

The Man whom I believe is the epitome of all masculine perfection.

God, I love him.

and fuck, how can any male specie look so delicious in an Armani suit?

Help me.

THE AUSPICIOUS DATE: JANUARY 16th 2007

I am dumping my PHD for him. I am dumping PERUGIA for him.

I would even dump IKER CASILLAS for him.

This is the plan. I will buy tickets first thing it becomes available. Best seats. I will sell my handbags for it. Platinum seats, y'hear? In front of the stage. Then book myself into a Shangri-La suite from January 14th-18th on the same floor as him. Check his flight details. Camp at the airport. Get an extensive floor plan of the KL Convention Center and map the backstage/VIP routes. Memorise the most heartwrenching French poem ever written. Buy a 6ft banner. Buy a killer black dress. Killer heels. Lose 5kg by January. Handmake a giant gift as dowry.

WHO IS WITH ME?

Yup. I am a stalker too.

Home In The City

2006-10-11T18:46:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: World, Hold On by BOB SINCLAIR

Just a thought. Apart from translating Il Divo lyrics during class, I've been dreaming about Bob Sinclair.

Oh, he is so HOT.

I've spent the whole night crooning to his stuff, and intoxicated myself to believe that he is somewhere in town. You know how alcohol makes you believe the unbelieveable.

And since everyone's been wondering what my Perugian flat looks like, the pissed picture above should give you a vague idea. I am not complaining.
Too bad you can't smell the stench from the cook-in I had with my friends last night. Imagine, one of them were even chopping vegetables on the floor.

Horror of all horrors...
At least they did the cooking!

I am pretty fortunate to have my own pad in the city center. Not that Perugia is a buzzling metropolis, you'd be pleased to know that this is the exact view from the my window.

I know what you are thinking.

It's less haunted than you think.

The advantage of living in the city is that most people knows where you live. If anyone ever pops into town you're bound to have a visitor or two. My flat is virtually a pit stop; people come in for a nap, snacks, watch MTV or to use my internet. Yes, I am proud to be running a gas station.

This is when the STALKER comes into picture. Because EVERYBODY seems to know where that Malaysian chink girl lives, a certain Russian/Italian dude (who was a friend of a friend) decided to tail me from house to school and via all means of mobile communication. I am too lazy to elaborate here... most of you (who were constantly online on msn) would have followed the 2 day drama when I had to hide in the bathroom and under the table.

Note the past tense. I told him that I was lesbian (in Italian) and he backed off. For now.

Why didn't I think about that earlier???

My first case of a short-term stalker took place this time last year in Malaga, Spain. I had gone to the campus pub and had a friendly conversation with 18 year old Spanish dude and his friend (coincidentally captured in the background of this half-drink picture we took on that night).

Heaven knows why both dudes decided to tail us back to the hostel and played guitar outside my room till 5am. Everytime I walked out to tell them to shut it, they insisted on me following them home. For fux sake they were underaged, so I left them alone.

Courtesy of their serenade everyone on my block had little sleep that night.

This time, the Russian stalker was less romantic. There were stones thrown at my window etc.

In relation to this drama my sister was telling me about a film by Tarkovsky aptly named Stalker. After that I was feeling all nostalgic and looked through some vacation photos we took in St. Petersburg, Russia.

This picture struck me.

The bar boy looked a little familliar..

Miracle At Assisi

2006-10-09T15:29:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Muneca de Trapo by LA OREJA DE VAN GOGH

BENVENUTO A ASSISI

Well obviously I got back safe and sound. Despite the miserable amount of Italian I speak, I managed to hop on the right busses and to pinpoint the right pilgrim route to reach the Basilica of St Francis. Even the granny pilgrims climbed the hill faster than I did...

The entrance of the basilica. It's on the slope y'see, and I tempted to perform a little dance to see if anyone would notice me.

(I can't be arsed to edit and photoshop the photographs as most arty farty travel geeks would do. Therefore so you'll have to bear with the purest form of naturalism in my photgraphy.... )

Monks leaving their classes. I was tempted to hand them some happy-hour-pub-flyers. I wonder if they will be quite fun to party with.

The great Umbrian view from the fortress. I am beginning to believe that I will be constantly climbing hills for the rest of my Italian stint.

Then I walked into a medieval knight who was more depressed than I am. Even his horse was pretty down, too. A happy-hour-pub-flyer for him!

Two miracles took place here. My good friend Francis (who later became the patron saint of Italy) was born on this very spot. Secondly, my prayer was answered almost immediately after I made a silent prayer in the chapel.

My prayer was simple: I NEEDED A TOILET.

Yes. Like a true pilgrim I had walked the the entire village of Assisi with a loaded bowel. THERE WERE NO TOILETS ALONG THE PILGRIM ROUTE
When my bowel was about to leak I desperately wailed before the altar, and someone up there had instant mercy on me. :)

A stray toilet appeared miraculously just outside the chapel.

Every good occurance had its payback. It started to rain. I found a shelter in a nativity house next to an obscure crypt. For once I felt quite tall. (I might have knocked down a few of the figurines though...)

This man felt sorry for me because I looked foreign and alone. Then again, I AM FOREIGN AND ALONE. I told him that there is nothing to feel sorry about.......

*Being alone is better than getting stalked*

Then again it is easier stalk someone who is alone, right?

To numb this fear I need marijuana. God, how I miss Amsterdam.

Explains why I have been indoors so much lately. I will tell you about the Russian stalker. Soon.

Cosi Cosi

2006-10-06T19:28:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Diras Que Estoy Loco by MIGUEL ANGEL MUNOZ

Of Course,

I wished I had maintained a journal like this during my Andalucian stint last year. Blame it on laziness. All I wanted to do was drink, sleep and lie on the beach. Well I did just that. No wonder I had nothing to write.

Back then I probably found it arduous to translate fun and all its glory into words. Then again, I was lazy. And being lazy was fun.

Fast forward to a year later, I found myself in a medieval Umbrian village. I told myself, and I keep telling myself in the likes of St. Francis; YOU NEED THESE THREE MONTHS TO DO SOME DEEP THINKING

And that means, in all that solitude, I should not be lazy. I gotta keep that fat lardy brain active.

Okay, back to the Italian adventure.

Just when I was about to hit depression due to the lack of alcohol since my arrival, a kind local friend chaperoned me to one that is deemed as the biggest danceclub in town. And it came with a strangely familliar name of VELVET.

Yes, VELVET. The name is that is so synonymous to HOME.

But nope. To my anticipated despair our Perugian Velvet pales shamefully in comparison to my beloved M'sian Velvet.

Think: topless gay men pretending to be straight. Oh, come on.

Even worse when you're groped by the un-straighter specie. Oh hold on, they don't grope you, they want you to grope them! that's fucked.

Either the crowd was bizarre or I looked like a butch. Nope. No unflattering pictures from that night.

The very next day, I pulled the tourist mission of exploring the Old Town Center. After wandering through loops and dark morbid corners, I found myself 475meters above sea level.

WOW

And to prove that I was there, I had to do the whole cam whore thing. Such is the price of travelling solo:

I could ramble on about the old town center but I have three months to do just that. As I will be catching a train to Assisi in an hours time, I think I should really make a move. Where the hell is the bus stop? Which bus to take to the station? Is it going to rain?

Again. I do not have a map with me. ...

I will leave you with a picture of Moscow for the time being. Yup, I was there last month for 3 weeks and I did not blog about it.

Tetris, anyone?

Italian Faerie

2006-10-03T16:09:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: The Only Difference Between Matyrdom and Suicide is Press Coverage by PANIC! At The Disco

Once upon a time,

A foolish girl left for the pilgrim mountains of Perugia. Why? Because she is dumb. Because a kind institution granted her a rare opportunity to re-live the impoverished life of a student. Being a true Malaysian, she devoured the F.O.C offer in guise of an attempt to escape her existing man troubles.

Thus she quitted her media job. Graduated in style. Went to the Soviet Union. Came back. And forced herself to leave her beloved 2nd home in Velvet Underground behind. How painful.

Not knowing a word of its local dialect, oblivious of its choco-culture and traffic rules; she plunged headsdown into the chilly valleys of Umbria. She reluctantly turned her back to all sentimentality, and carried nothing but an open heart to a town far from Fellini-esque Roma. (okay, with the exception of her laptop and ipod... )

She found herself a medieval residence in the obscure corner of the supposedly haunted town, which conveniently faces a scaffolded construction site. Every morning, she greets the builders as she opens her windows for breath of fresh mountain air. Builders are fascinated by her laptop that ocassionally blasts JT's 'SEXY BACK' in the afternoons. And her curtain-less bathroom.

Then she figures how to boil water from a saucepan, sleep in murky duvets and clean chimneys.... not to mention mapping her way around over 30 steep and narrow street alleys. Without a map.

And of course, nobody there speaks English. Back to the Middle Ages.

WELCOME TO PERUGIA

This is the beginning of a new life for the next three months.

Leaving Again

2006-08-29T11:52:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Te Busque by NELLY FURTADO

I can't write anymore. I just can't. I am beginning to think that my dyslexia is devouring my organic brain right left and center.

I finally left my workplace. Check out the horrendous glee in my piggy-dancing performance on the last day of office. God, I must have been such a pest.

And yeah, you've guessed it right, the cubicle (swarmed with delicious visuals of studs) in the background belong(ed) to me. Jenny, the girl who doesnt look too amused, inherited some of my professional rubbish.

Check out the lovely farewell card:-

I feel so loved. Thanks my lovelies :)

I am rushing off to the airport now and will be gone for three weeks. Not that anyone will miss me that much, I just thought I will leave my clubbing buddies a memorabilia of a certain hottie in the background.... (nope nope.. not Matt.. haha! )

Last but not least... a little tribute to my favourite clubbing buddy (SLUTIRAH)... who has tolerated my drunken antics in her car (and vice versa) for the past 4 months!

(was supposed to post your pic here... but my wifi died on me and I have to make do with no pic.... sigh)

BYE NOW.... TAKE CARE AND SEE YOU IN THREE WEEKS!!!!

In case you cant tell, I am rushing like mad here..

Enlightenment

2006-08-06T14:51:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Trouble Sleeping by CORRINNE BAILEY RAE

You know when the world (or YOU) hath gone slightly wrong when:-

1) Paris Hilton releases a summer single.

1 a) When you see Paris Hilton's picture on this blog.

2) You are given free tickets to the Malaysian Film Festival.

3) Kelly Chen tops the Hong Kong pop charts by flaunting anorexia.

4) You admit to fancying a juvenile bloke from CLICK 5IVE.

5) Reyes falls out with Fabregas and is desperate to leave Highbury.

6) You refuse to remove your patriotic flag from your gate eventhough the World Cup hath long gone..

7) Your boss sets you up on blind dates with older men.

8) You have a cameo appearance on a skincare programme that will be broadcasted on national telly. And you are praying ultra-hard that nobody spots you.

9) You go around bragging that your ex-boyfriend was a duplicate of Chris Martin. Without the dosh.

10) You are thinking of organising your farewell bash at no other place than the infamous Beach Club.

11) You delude yourself by claiming that you will never get smashed with an entire jug of Long Island.

12) There are psychotic stalkers of this never-updated blog.

13) Your futsal mates are never going to turn up for any futsal matches

14) Your schedule is fully booked for the next 14 days. (waiting list available upon request, cheh...)

15) Lyn has ceased to update her blog weekly. Even fortnightly. Probably monthly.

I seriously need to chill.

08.07.06

2006-07-15T18:01:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Promiscuous Woman by NELLY FURTADO

Okay, say hello to the mother of all drunkfests...

LYN'S ANNUAL SUMMER BASH @ VELVET UNDERGROUND 2006!!!!!

Endless bottles of Smirnoff Reds, a smashing bass and an overflowing guestlist...
I'd like to thank the 60++ guests who turned up and rocked the PARTAYYYYYYYYY!!!!

I hate to turn his into a slut blog, but because I owe a whole lot of you pictures from that night, I am going to post a handful up here. You are going to be so sick of seeing my face in every photograph.

Cousins Sharon and gorgeous Sarah kickin' up the night!!!

Everybody seems to be involved with Shopping Queen Stephanie in some way or another.

Clubbing buddy Jen and I share the same foolishness for good-looking bastards... but hey, its their loss right??

Drinking buddy/ cousin Kev 'Yum Chao' and lovely Denise forcing Jack Daniel's down my throat... and yet I wasn't pissed for the night, bah!

Party gals Su Yong and Kristy.... half way through to intoxication!

The pretty GIS clan: Aaron, Kaveh, Su Yong and Stef... and I just realised I'd poured half a glass of lychee martini all over my top.

My dearie Syat on a high as you can see through her mystical eyes... hoi, they are contact lenses!!!!!!

Kenny and wife, I owe the party to them for getting me 10 extra spaces to accomodate my neverending guestlist!! Love you both!!

Dee and I remains comparitively sober.... nothing beats THAT night out in London *cough*

My favourite director Pit with all respect to his dreadlocks... he promised to sort mine out one day!!!
--------------------------------

Armed with a retarded camera, shame I couldn't snap pics of everyone who was there. But there are more bash pics on my desktop, drop me a bell if you want copies!!!

Last but not least, in spite of all that drunken decadence.....
I had a great time. :)

This is the first time 10 years that I've thrown a massive bash to boost my self esteem. Ladies and Gentlemen, Thanks for coming.

06.07.06

2006-07-15T16:25:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: Geek in the Pink by Jason MRAZ

I have been neglecting this blog. And no one really pops by anymore. That's because I've been neglecting your blogs. Sorry. I have been spending the last 300 hours away from blogger-world, dedicating my time to fellow humans in the real world. But you have to forgive me for that. If I don't visit your blog, you probably wont visit mine. It is fine with me.

Back to the real world, I found it bizzarre how there are people who actually wanted to celebrate my existence in this world.

Check out this smashing surprise in my office one fine morning...

IT IS AN APPLE CRUMBLE!!!!

My dearest collegues Andrea and Elaine fed the entire workplace with food that got all of us sugar high. Well, I blew my ambitious diet down to a size 10 for that weekend. I may be devastated with my ever-increasing flabby thighs,

BUT I STILL LOVE YOU BOTH!!!!!

Then there was the surprise lunch at T.G.I.F.s! To those who still owe me a birthday lunch, remember this:-

I ADORE BIG FAT MAYONAISE and BIG FAT FRENCH FRIES.

Check out that orgasmic face. I think you men disappoint me.

SORROW

2006-06-27T22:00:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: If I Aint Got You by ALICIA KEYS

As of this morning, my heart hath been shattered.

You know, it is that sort of screeching pain that grazes across those running artileries that enter your corazon.

Right now,

I am in despair.

I am in agony.

I am in utter PAIN.

And this painstaking bitterness is too familiar.
Some may even have to go through it more than TEN times. What poor things.

Or in my case, TWICE within 6 months. TWICE.

FIRST, IT WAS ARSENAL .

And now,

SPAIN IS OUT.

Fuck the world.

Return In Peace

2006-06-25T14:54:00.000+01:00

Crooning on my STEREO: We Be Burnin' by SEAN PAUL

It is funny how my illness has kept me away from the gym for 2 weeks, robbed 10 shades off my tan and turned me into a reluctant omnivore. Not to mention the sudden withdrawal of daily alcohol from my system has transformed me into some sort of nervous wreck in a desperate need for rehabilitation. In this course of recovery, the lack of protein adds to my lethargy, and this means that I've been sleeping through 30% of the World Cup matches played so far. I even drove my car into a ditch.

THAT SUCKS

In the midst of all that sick slumber, I noticed a pretty cool headgear:

Want one for yourself?

EASY.

You can get a similar net from your local fruit store.
Place it over your head.
One size fits all.