Grief.

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.

Vodka and Tears

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.

ANTM & The AttacK Of The ExeS.

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

Seasons Greetings

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.

Orphic Songs

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.

Somewhere Out There

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.

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.

Questa Primavera

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.

Life Goes On.....

Crooning on my STEREO: La Gente Sta Male by AFTERHOURS

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

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

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

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

AND GUESS WHAT?

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

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

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

SUCH A TURN OFF.

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



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

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

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

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



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

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

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 :)

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.

That's Amore

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.

Rainbows

What do you do when you have lost a colour of your rainbow?
It feels, surreal, you know.
It feels, like, you could never wake up again.
And you don't know what to do.
Even a week later,

You really dont.

My perfect life was embraced by seven colours.
Seven colours; one for divinity.
Five colours for the five beautiful souls whom I eternally love with all my heart.
And one hopeful colour for the stranger who has yet to walk into my life.

On the 6th of November, my rainbow did not seem right.
A colour has faded away.
Much too early.

I thought, I will be home for Christmas, and we will have fun together.
I thought, maybe, he will meet my boyfriend one day.
And i thought, when I am home for good,
We could grow old together.

But on the 6th of December
He never came home.

I don't know where he is.
And I was, and still am, afraid to pray.
He never woke.

I wished I told him how much I loved him.
I wish, that someone will tell me, if I can ever see him again.

If God ever hears my prayers, I will only ask of Him that
He will keep my Sam under His safe wings.

If this was a punishment from vengeful destiny,
then there are many others out there who are left unpunished.

If this was the result of karma,
then our fates are ruled by a blind and infantile force.

If either of this is true,
I will not allow the juvenile nature of Life to destroy me.

And with every courage, I pray that,
after the rain,

My rainbow will look just as beautiful as it did before.

To all the Men I have 'Loved.'

NOSTALGIA: You look back. You are HORRIFIED. And you WONDER.
These are the men who have adorned my bedroom wall throughout my teenage years.


Above: Axl Rose on a 12 year old's wall. S & M king? Indeed.

1992-1993= AXL ROSE from Guns N' Roses : A man who wore short lycra tights on stage. He had a wardrobe of them in assorted colours. I actually went to Imbi Market and bought a bundle of ten in red,green,yellow, purple and any other gawdy colour you could think of.
I even wore them to class parties, I think I wasn't that popular back then.

1993-1994= DAVE MUSTAINE from MEGADETH : Thanks to my sister's influences, I developed strange fetishes for long-haired and sweaty GLAM ROCKERS. I was THAT close to developing a crush for Steven Tyler from Aerosmith. Thank God.

1994-1995= JON BON JOVI from BON JOVI : Yes, the one who looks like a DOG. When I heard him passionately wailing 'Always' on the radio, I fell in love with his voice. (come to think of it, it did sound a bit like Amy SEARCH..remember...'ISABELLA'?)

1995 -1996= TIM WHEELER from ASH : From glam rock to Brit pop. The perfect epitome of a junkie. I was too ashamed to put his posters up in my school locker.

1996- 1997 = Gallagher Brothers from OASIS : Now when I look at their pictures, they remind me of 'House of the Dead' zombies. As for their infamous eyebrows, I see overgrown bushes in my backyard.

1997-1999= RONAN KEATING from BOYZONE : The BOYBAND hormones were kicking in. When I thought he winked at me during a concert, I pretended to faint so that the sympathetic officials would take me backstage.
30 other girls did the same.

1999-2001= BRYAN MCFADDEN from WESTLIFE : Yes, the FAT one. When I met the group backstage I penned a classic poem for Bryan. Here's an excerpt;

Oh Bryan, I love You
I wish you knew
I think I will kill
Just to have you.

What fucking genius could have written that cheesy shit????!?

p.s: I think it later inspired Westlife lyrics.

2001-2002= MIKA HAKKINEN from F1 MCLAREN : Moving on to SPORTSMEN. From Ireland to Finland. From a tennybopper to an adultress. Yes, Mika is married. And he has a kid, too.
I was drooling over somebody's father.

After bumping into him in Selfridges, I briefly fancied Eddie Irvine from Jaguar. But now when I look at him (in a more mature perspective); he looks like a crocodile.

2002-2003= IKER CASILLAS FROM REAL MADRID : SPAIN. My raging hormones drove me to Santiago Bernabeu (Real Madrid homeground) to hunt him down. Some sleazy bastard sold me a dodgy ticket and I had the BEST seat on earth.

2004- ?? = JOSE ANTONIO REYES from ARSENAL : A sweet Andalusian boy first on my 'To Marry' list... though sometimes I wished he didn't wear such bodyfitting singlets.
--------
I left out an important insect metaphor in my previous post.

LEACHES aka SUCK-UPS : People who suck up to you for benefits. And abandon you when you need them.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY 2 MI HERMANA!!!!!!!!!!

Don't freak, the image above is a still from one of my sister's favourite films, Tarkovsky's Andrei Rublev. I could never get myself to watch it, as much as serious film critics will rave about the film..
I JUST CAN'T.

I mean, look at the film still. Just look at it. Does it appeal to you?
Would YOU want to sit through 3 hours and watch a Russian monk/artist pay for his sins on earth? (That was just a preconception I got from the DVD cover, it may not be so.)

Mind you, this is no Passion of Christ. No sadomasochistic gore. No diluted tomato ketchup splashing all over the set. It does not send the weak minded into a spiritual revival. No Monica Bellucci as repentant Magdalene. No LOTR's WormTongue lookalike demon persona lurking in the background cradling a baby remincscent to Austin Powers. No Mel Gibson.

Most of you will say, 'I thought Tarkovsky was a Baroque composer?' Some grade 8 piano students actually said that.

No. Andrei Tarkovsky is a revelation to Russian cinema.
My sister acknowledges that. And she is not even a film student. In fact, my sister is a degree holder in both Art History and Film Studies without actually spending three years studying Visual Culture. She knows more than I know in my course without investing £7950 for an obligatory piece of paper. She knows more about the French surrealists than my thesis supervisor. I am just a redundant puppet in my course.

She even visits their graves in Paris.

If you think coming to Broadway Cinema with me is mundane, you are naive. While I do somersaults watching Almodovar's films, she'd rather watch Godard's Breathless. Spanish sleaziness versus the French 'beating around the bush': You can see how our interests conflict.

We are very different. I am a 20 year old empty teenybopper whereas she is a worldly-wise romantic. She has the greatest wit of our generation, and a genius in her own right. And hell, her sarcastic humour can put the devil to shame.... 'La Bicicletta'...

As my sister once told me, 'Travelling is education.'
I can't stand people who travel to Paris and come back claiming that they are cultured just because they have visited The Louvre, or perhaps,barged into an obscure art dealer.
You learn with a sincere approach, not because you want to brag to your friends. You travel because you sincerely WANT to travel, not because you subscribe to peer pressure. (Very common student phenomena in Malaysian cases)

If there is one person who deserves to travel the world for the right reasons, it would be my sister. And if you think that I am special, that's because my sister has inspired me in every way.

No, I am still NOT going to watch Andrei Rublev.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY and Many happy returns!!!!!!

lots of love and God bless,
Su Hermana Yng Lyn

The Four Thugs: From left: Pat, Yvonne and Sue. I am at the bottom. (This isn't exactly the best photo)  

Love on a Monday Morning

I woke up at ten this morning compliments to an annoying radio blasting nearby and conducted my usual ritual of switching on my comp first thing i step out of bed. Logged onto MSN and two high school friends frantically messaged me.
They were Yvonne Khor and Foong Sue Wen. If you were from GIS you'd remember them. I am sure. One is loud. The other is blur.

And they were wishing me HAPPY BIRTHDAY on the 24th May 2004.

What the hell?!? I was close to mutilating them for getting my birthday wrong.
Much too early. After all, they were my closest friends from high school.

The tables turned. They were wishing me in advance for my 21st, knowing that the three of us are hardly ever online at the same time. And they did it with such sincerity, certainly not out of obligatory fakeness. And Yvonne wont be in Malaysia for my b'day bash.

I was touched. They actually bothered. And this blog is dedicated to the coolest friends I had from school, Patricia, Sue Wen and Yvonne.

Sue's in sexy Scotland, Yvonne and Pat are in sunny Australia. Back in GIS, our lockers were next to each other. Yvonne was the loudest in the hallway, and occasionally you'd catch her threatening to beat up a helpless boy. Sue was the green shirted friendly prefect, putting on a facade of responsibility but in actual fact, she's littering the hallway with her food residuals. Pat, who migrated to Sydney later, is often reprimanded for not tying up her long hair,and strutting around in a little skirt. I, the avant-garde, am always altering my uniform; shortening my skirt, coloured Nikes and replacing the school jumper with a trendy Sportsgirl one. Because the prefects love me, I got away with it. Except from Mrs Lim...

And hell, the four of us are intelligent. I am not boasting. Pat, Yvonne and Sue were A star students. I only had an A, but who cares, I hung with them so that I look smart too. And they are gorgeous, they had plenty of admirers. (Sorry, guys, they are all taken, but there's always ME!!) They were great at sports too, Pat and Sue were excellent swimmers, Yvonne played basketball and as for me, the forgotten sprinter.. :( Boys, teachers, bitches.... we laughed at everything.

Since we left school, we all have the tendancy to vanish and reappear into each other's lives at random times of the year. And when we do meet, we rant and rave like the best of friends. In fact, we are. Despite leading different lives 10000 miles away, (with the exception of Sue who's 6hrs by train away..) there is a certain assurance that no matter how much we screw up, we will always have each other to fall on.

We need not explain. We don't even need to know why.
Its like an apparition. Sue even sent me a cookie from Glasgow. :)

Thanks guys, for the wonderful conversation this morning.
God bless you three in everything you do!!
lots of love,
Yng LYN

My Beagle Sam, chilling out in my bedroom back home in Malaysia. Its a Dog's life! I've been harbouring the same bitterness that my student accomodation in dunkirk is so, so, so awful!!!!