*717 - where are you?

Met a childhood friend at the bar the other day. It's been seven years, but he still looks exactly the same. It's been seven years, and I (apparently) look completely different. Phew.

Snowball = advocaat + sprite.

-

I have been oddly sober these days. (I mean that in the "cheerless" sense of the word, but now that I think about it, the other meaning is also rather appropriate.) Not that I have been perpetually depressed; I oscillate between general merriment and bouts of dreariness. I know one thing that would perk me up, but I'm afraid it's not happening.

-

So in the end, the tables turned. I hope you don't feel the pain that I once did.

You didn't miss me till you lost me, did you?

-

Strangers who aren't.

Unusual - conversation is not obligation; silence is not awkward. Dawn breaks where it shouldn't. Stars come and go but I cannot see them even if I squint. I cannot see you even if I squint. I cannot see me.

It is a terrible place to be, but I do not want to leave, because it is a lovely place to be. It gives me pain and it gives me hope. You give me pain and you give me hope. In any other circumstance, I may laugh with you. Ha ha ha, laugh with me, I am laughing ha ha ha, but I am also aching.

I wait without understanding why, what, when, who.

-

Too many you's. As usual. Directed to the you's who would never know that someone out there just wrote something for them. My little unpolished strings of words, carefully boxed and wrapped and ribboned, stored in a part of my memory that you are unaware of. Where is the someone out there who has little unpolished strings of words, carefully boxed and wrapped and ribboned and stored, for me?

*716 - NYC in a few pictures (an inadequate account of my stay there)

New York City, nearing Times Square


Roadside food stalls everywhere selling fruit, pretzels, kebabs, honeyed almonds, anything


The M&M store


I'm a green M&M


Japanese dinner after a particularly exhausting dance class


Pretty Central Park


We all fell asleep in the sun


And I definitely got a sunburn from that


This teeny piece of chocolate is worth US$5 (it was good)


Dressed in bright purple and yellow thigh-high socks for Cirque du Soleil (it was good)


Streets of SoHo


Art galleries at SoHo


One last peek at the hotel lobby before I left

*715 - earthquake

Earthquake cookies: white, with dark cracks. How can anyone not fall in love with them at first sight? They are too adorable. They taste good too. Mm, chocolatey.





I meant to give a few to Liru, and also Tubby, but I forgot to bring them out with me, and the family finished the rest. Oops.

*714 - orange daisy

One can only dream of a lackadaisical life such as this: first on my agenda of each day is to decide who to meet, and where, and when. Work begins next Monday, by which time I might be still pleased with this amount of lackadaisicality (why does this word not yet exist?) but ready to move on to something a little different, something a little more in line with my career goals and blah blah.

Yesterday: lunch of foie gras, dinner of hokkien mee. Incongruous? No way :)

*713 - what if

Put me, now, in my own shoes, years ago. What would be different? For the better or the worse?

(Just a random musing. Not about any particular situation, but about all.)

*712 - ultra delish carrot cake cupcakes

Note to Justin:

I baked these myself, on Saturday afternoon, and am not being cryptic about anything that has to do with my cupcakes!

*711 - tea party

It's so good to be home. I love the family. The more I'm away from the family, the more I learn to appreciate what we share.

We drove out randomly the other day (sans Daddums, who was busy with work) for scones and tea. Note: the type of scone that rhymes with John instead of Joan, for full British effect.







Apparently, Joel and Elisa look just like Mummy. But everyone agrees that I don't look like anyone in the family, really. Maybe some distant ancestors. I know I belong to the Chan family only because I have Daddy's nose. Heehee.

*710 - more spring flowers

It's funny how teensy, unobtrusive flowers that you typically pass by without a bat of an eyelid are actually quite beautiful too.

Byebye pretty Cornell!

*709 - best friends on a windy day with three hours of sleep

Jumpity jump! :) It's going to be weird without these girls around over summer. It's going to be ultra weird without Inshi around next year. Boohoo :(

*708 - flying

I hate long-ass plane flights. I'm usually on the verge of tears by the time I stumble out (greasy haired, sleep deprived, grumpy to the max) of a 20 hour flight.

But this time, I could hardly bear to get off the plane.

-

I fly alone.

*707 - nooyork

Well hello there NYC. It's good to see you again :)

Home (Singapore) in a few days!!

*706 - dandelions

They poke their little heads up
in cheery mobs of bright yellow


And then turn into ridiculous white puffballs

*705 - bedtime stories

The problem with sleeping at 5 am every day and then suddenly deciding to sleep at 10 pm one night is that you wake up at midnight because your body thinks it's taking a nap and you sleep fitfully till 3 am and, against your better judgment, prance out of bed just as everyone else in your house is going to sleep. And then you run out of the house at 6 am armed with a camera to catch the sunrise but realize you are surrounded by buildings and trees and can't see the horizon, nor do you actually know which side the sun is actually rising from (the wrong side, it turns out). And then you get sudden and severely debilitating pancake cravings but realize you are out of pancake mix and therefore drag an unfortunate friend to Weggies to buy pancake mix (which turns into a full blown grocery shopping experience). And then you make 8 am pancakes and share them with the unfortunate friend and then collapse back into bed at 9 am to wake up an hour later (this part is hypothetical because it is not yet 9 at the moment).

Sleeping early is fun because I feel like so much has happened since I got up and the day hasn't even really begun yet.

*704 - it has actually been

just about a month.

Some days I am strangely despondent.

I should stop grumbling now.

*703 - no more dancing for two weeks

How odd. I think it's making me lethargic and twitchy at the same time. Cunningham in the city after my finals, hopefully! Looking forward to attending the hardest dance classes in my life. Heehee.

Anyway, pictures from John, I'm Only Dancing. Was rather uninvolved this year: just two pieces, and did not choreograph anything. But had a great time anyway.

I didn't realise that we were so rainbow-ish until I saw this photo!
(Maybe I should have worn orange. Or purple.)




Part of Turning for Ala


The multiple-limbed monster effect did not turn out too well
(Funny how I am a distinct shade darker than the other limbs)


Ultimate crotch shot!


Love Sam's expression


Love Alex's expression


Janice and Benyah.

*702 - think!

You do not just pick at someone's insecurities for fun and laughs! I am far from laughing!

You don't know how scarred I am. Years! Of struggling! To even accept myself! Well-concealed, so that I would be less vulnerable. One wrong word, not even ill-intentioned to begin with, would be enough to send me into impossible despair.

Even if you didn't know. How could that possibly not hurt?

Funny? No, no, no.
Apology? Missed the point.
Hurt? Plenty.

*701 - is not very round at all

I have always shied away from awkward conversations, particularly those involving "um, you, like me, right, so, but I, you know, um," or some variation on that, and have always chosen to scamper away and hide and falsely believe that situations will just settle themselves peacefully like that.

But it always turns out that talking >>> not talking. Resolved two situations (almost concurrently, how odd) last night, one of which is a load off my mind, the other still making me feel slightly uneasy. Probably the biggest load off my mind, though, happened two weeks ago (has it really just been two weeks?) and I have been so much happier since then.

As it is now, I can only see a couple of awkward situations left to straighten out, so the drama in my life has ebbed significantly though not completely.

I feel like I can breathe a little easier now.

*700 - is a nice round number

What is wrong with (you) me?
(The scary thing is that
there are many you's
who could possibly think that
I'm referring to (you)
But actually, it's only you.
That didn't help, did it
Well, let's go through the list
to make sure it's not you
you: I am sorry
you: I wish
you: I am waiting
you: I have given up
you: I
you:
That still didn't help, did it
So back to the question-)
What is wrong with me (you)?
It is not about (you) at all
that's what is wrong
that's the (my) problem

Sometimes or a lot of times
I don't know what to do
(with myself)

*699 - hammock

On a lighter note, slope day was remarkably eventful.

Drinking till 6 am, then waking up at 7.30 for class. Falafel and cheesecake. Heading to T-house. Chilling beside the slope on a hammock, making fun of the really terrible bands. Making our way down to the slope when the Pussycat Dolls started playing (loosen up my buttons, babe). "Thunderstorm. Evacuate immediately and seek shelter." Hurrying home in torrential rain with a hilariously tiny umbrella not meant for two. Passing out for 3 hours before getting roused and dragged out to party again.

I think my favorite part of the day was the cozy chill out session on the hammock in the sun. Good conversation with good friends beats sweaty drunken crowds of strangers hands down.

Oh, dancers. (Spot Meredith's right leg.)




Unfortunately, I suffered the repercussions the next day; repercussions of either too little sleep or too much alcohol or both. Almost threw up on the way to my performance and was puffing like a wobbly train engine during the dance. Hopefully, no one noticed. One more performance tonight for this show, one more performance on Monday, and then finals will be upon us!! Yaurghhh.

*698 - slope day revelries

Impossible amount of alcohol in 24 hours. (How many calories?? Ew.) Drinking excessively when you are already in the midst of recovering from a painful hungover is not the smartest thing to do.

Cornell is too small. Everyone knows everyone else, sometimes in a most unfortunate way.

Is avoiding the truth the same thing as telling a lie?

It scares me to take a good look at the mirror. I wonder where things started changing. I've changed so much in the two years I've been here - for the better, sure; for the worse, regrettably. Going home will be a good escape from my crazy life here.

Back to sleep. Need to sober up for tonight's performance.