Ubriaco

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.

Life- Is- Now

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.

Bring on the TIKUS

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!!

Mi Manchi

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

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!!!!!!!!!!!

Sogni d'oro

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.

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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 .