we’ve just got home and are lying on the couch, still in our party clothes. my breasts are starting to hurt because they’re pressed so tightly into his chest, but i dont want to move. there is the smell of cigarette smoke in our hair and on his collar and on my dress.. and the musky taste of champagne still lingers on our lips. one champagne kiss, two champagne kisses, three champagne kisses on my neck. on my shoulders. mmmmm. this is one of those perfect nights.
on the floor are various remote controls, dvds, a box of truffles, a glass of water and remnants of a conversation about buses and contact lens solution. i’m feeling a little bit heady and a little bit giggly. indulge me, he asks, and after a lot of no’s and but-why’s, i finally give in. fingernails on wood, toes curled against the carpet, hair cascading down my back. the feel of his name on my lips is so. nice.
this is one of those perfect nights. when you just dont think. it’s like seeing flowers and a note for you. it’s like those dont-spoil-my-moment moments.. but deep down inside you secretly completely relish the moment being spoilt that way.
when one has just gotten up, is stuck at home with nothing to do, and is in a pink bathrobe, and doesnt know what to do with one’s time, the obvious solution is to camwhore.
and when one is hungry and doesnt know what to eat, and is feeling particularly talkative, one records a video … and uploads it to her blog.
the other day i dreamt that waimin broke up with her boyfriend. it was a violent, painful breakup, and when i woke up, there was a feeling of deep remorse, and what was unmistakably guilt, crawling all over my back. when one first wakes up, perception is always fuzzy around the edges though internally you think that all your thoughts make perfect sense and that everyone around you are fools. sometimes there is a little bit of confusion. but when i woke up that morning, i could feel everything very acutely, from the reason why i felt guilty to the naggy feeling of the cramp in my toes. and i felt that everyone around me were fools.
how do you recognise a beginning when you see one? is there an established marker that tells you so; like a gunshot into the air, a nervous question, a missed call? or are all these merely symbols of a very superficial and desultory beginning, and the real beginning is the beginning when you say it is?
likewise, how do you recognise an end when it is here? and what do you do. are there perfect ways to execute an end? is there a socially optimal method of dealing with ends? what if i dont wanna deal with ends.. what if i just wanna leave them on the table like i did with this blueberry cheese tart i bought from the night market the other day, and watch what happens? my mother ate it, that’s what happened. and that’s perfect, i thought to myself. a 10 out of 10 if i ever saw one.
songjun’s mom called me the other day while i was having my exams. i dont have her number on my mobile anymore, but i recognised it immediately upon sight as i was checking my missed calls. is this a beginning or an end, i wondered. or the end of an end?
as i write this i’m on my way to the airport in a cab marked with the ID number 444. i smirked a little bit when i saw it, and told the cabbie that my restless spirit would seek him and his ominously-numbered cab out if my plane crashed. he laughed. then i said, ‘me getting into your cab is the beginning of the end’. he laughed again. ‘it’s not funny’, i reply, with a smile nonetheless, despite the lack of humour in the situation from my point of view. he doesnt say anything but looks at me quizzically in the rearview mirror.
finally i answer, ‘because ends are like blueberry cheese tarts’.
i dont know why, but it seems that free dessert just comes my way all the time. not that i’m complaining of course, i am milking this to the very end :D
the latest in my freeloader saga - i ordered an espresso blended coffee at starbucks, but only after asking the barista if there was milk or cream in it. he said no, there’s no milk or cream at all, just coffee and espresso and ice. so okay lah i believe, cos i’m not a barista right. what do i know, right. but when i got my drink, it was so obvious there was milk in it. so i asked him again if there was milk in it, because i sure as hell can taste milk! (of course, all said very sweetly with a confused look on my face) but then he insisted that noooooo, really dont have milk. okay whatever, no milk then no milk lah.
but a few minutes later, he comes up to me looking all worried, and asks if … i’m allergic to milk. hehehehehehhee. and so i reply with Grammy-worthy shock; “yeahhhhhh! i’m lactose intolerant!!! why?!?! is there really milk in this?! but just now you said dont have!!!”
heehee. so guess who got free cake :D starbucks rocky road is the yum.
and guess who got a free venti-sized americano..!!! lactose intolerant mah. i just hope they dont see me pouring milk into this.
right now i’m having a lot of fun playing face-games with this cutie who’s sitting at the next table. soooo adorable. he’s got these orange-coloured booties on, and he keeps crying everytime he finishes the Snyder chips his dad put on a little plate for him. and now he’s got one of those little Starbucks lollipops, and is waving it around in the air.
it’s so fun being a kid. you dont have to study econs or world religion. and you dont have to deal with your mother borrowing your shoes and ruining them. all you do is sit around eating lollipops!
okay lah sometimes i sit around doing nothing but eat lollipops and Snyder chips. i’m still a kid wat.
my eyes hurt cos i fell asleep with my contact lens. the Martian and i have made up, following our breakup in bangkok over the weekend. there’s chocolate cake on the dining table and even though it sucks, i cant stop pinching pieces of it. i’ve got my econs finals on monday… only just starting to study, and will probably flunk unless someone can explain to me once and for all how to draw the right graphs. in Moral Ed finals yesterday, there was a question on Immanuel Kant, and i didnt know how to answer it. i feel like i havent seen my friends in forever. i wanna continue reading Demian by Hermann Hesse, but cannot cos must study stuff about monopolies and price elasticity of demand. eeyean went to hong kong and didnt even tell me. waimin and i had a tiff a while ago but we’ve kissed and made up. i have one more pack of Tim Tams left. i am now the owner of a pair of alexander mcqueen shoes; Tze, be jealous. i wanna visit vicnan. vin never calls me anymore. the year end sale is here!!! oh, my poor dad. i really should be studying instead of blogging. christmas is coming, but there will be no christmas cookies or brownies this year, thanks to bro who ran combustion experiments in my oven. it has been a most unproductive week. i totally do not agree with the new proposal to limit SPM students to taking a maximum of only 12 subjects. what’s up with our country and their complacence with mediocrity? if you can breed overachieving highflyers, is that so bad? i had vietnamese spring rolls for dinner! someone complimented my bum today. my wireless dies every 4 minutes, this whole router-resetting routine is getting very annoying. my pencils are pink. and i’m going to get more chocolate cake.
Pinkpau is Su Ann. 19, Malaysia. Hostile when hungry. Sometimes a shapeshifter, always an optimist with a penchant for pessimism and shoe-shopping. More?
Contact at : pinkpau[at]gmail[dot]com
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The point of the pinkness of this site is to annoy the crap out of you. Really. What made you think I was a nice person? More?
