Valentine and the Golden Pig

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

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

Crooning on my STEREO: Come Primavera by IL DIVO

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

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


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

Sad, I know.


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


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

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


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


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

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

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

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

Instead I did this:-

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

And only God knows why I did that.

I am such a cow.


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

Oh boy, you only live once.

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

Life Goes On.....

Crooning on my STEREO: La Gente Sta Male by AFTERHOURS

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

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

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

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

AND GUESS WHAT?

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

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

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

SUCH A TURN OFF.

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



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

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

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

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



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

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

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!!!!!!!