The Pink Bathrobe Chronicles

every 3 days or so, there will inevitably be one night where i dont sleep and just head to school in the morning, cranky and with dark circles under my eyes. such is the notorious life of a thursday-night partyer and a tuesday-night webcrawler. apologies to all collegemates for having to put up with my tulan sleep-deprived attitude every monday wednesday and friday for the past 8 months.

so i was grumpy on the plane, mostly due to a lack of sleep from sunday-night procrastination-correcting efforts, but i must admit a good portion of my sullenness was directed at KLIA’s Godiva shoppe. there has been an exorbitant raise in their chocolate prices since the last time i patronized their business a month and a half ago. so what if it’s Valentine’s season? i dont give a fuck. this is robbery. and why do the cynics of the season always cite Hallmark and florists as the focal point of their angst? why not Godiva too? their chocolate isnt even that good to warrant such a jackup in price. in fact, Godiva is completely overrated. that said, i went and bought my usual box of chocolates anyway. hypocrisy is okay when it comes to whatever makes you happy.

the plane was surprisingly empty, and not a gay steward in sight. only one non-effeminate male among the bevy of beauties (yes this flight had really hot stewardesses), and he was quick enough to offer me a blanket upon noticing i was wearing a skirt too short for me to cross my legs decently in. why thank you, i trilled, quite thrilled. no worries, he said, shooting a meaningful glance at a young man a few rows up the aisle who had been indiscreetly eyeballing my legs. we shared a little conspiratorial smile, before he swished off to tend to an old chinese lady, with a subtle flick of his wrist right before he turned away. non-effeminate, but gay.

the Leg Eyeballer is a music junkie and a Seth Cohen lookalike. he later switched seats to sit beside me, but across the aisle. sensing a chat-up, i quickly put my book away and went to sleep. and i didnt wake up until we touched down on HK soil.

my return here is strangely uncomfortable - i almost feel like i should not be here - but this disorientation has since been quelled with many Martian kisses and the requisite pack of Vitasoy malted milk.

i had lunch with Martian this afternoon, at a cute noodle place on Wellington St where the wantan meen is superb and the waiting staff are psychic. and after he went back to work, i walked around Central on my own. being in hongkong always makes me feel younger and calmer, and i take in this feeling with much relish. being amongst the throngs of people walking 2 steps too quickly and barking orders down their Blackberries, i feel carefree. i can walk down Queen’s Rd Central at lunchtime without worrying about bumping into anyone i know. i have no idea why there is a disinclination towards the prospect of running into an acquaintance, but there just is one, and it is deep-rooted. back home, my senses prickle with the possibility of this occurence all the time, and i am always alert when in public places. perhaps it is fatigue. my body is telling me i need to see less people, and to spend more time alone.

i decided to have dinner by myself the other day. pasta marinara and a good glass of wine paired with The Feast of Love by Charles Baxter in one of my favourite restaurants sounded very appealing to me. when i sat down, there was a couple at the table in front of me - a caucasian man and his girlfriend. she was very animated and very giggly, leaning against him the whole time and chattering away merrily about what they can do for valentines day.

i later find out that the caucasian man is married, and not to the woman he was with that night. he texted me today, asking me where i was spending valentines, and i said ‘in hongkong, the land of dim sum, you?’. and he replied, ‘in italy, where all good things come from’. his wife is in italy. i cant help but wonder what tale he spun for the benefit of his other woman. i cant help but wonder if she saw right through it. this whole thing reminded me of one of my favourite chinese movies, the City of Glass. in it, shu qi and leon lai are cheating on their respective spouses with each other, and she says to him as they’re breaking up, ‘now you dont have to come up with lame excuses not to spend your birthday and valentine’s day with me’.

how is that supposed to feel, knowing that your significant other is spending his or her special day with someone else other than you?

23 comments February 13th, 2007