to my enigmatic dimsum
5 and more things i love about you:
1. that you understood how upsetting it was that the chicken. wings. were. not. arriving! and your noise of appreciation when they finally did made me cry from laughing
2. that you absolutely refused to notice that i was in pieces (looking out of the window when we entered the tunnel..so kind!) until i pointed it out. and when i finally did, you let me cry an ocean of tears into my long island tea, offering only your panda tissues, your understanding and your kindness.
3. that you were so up for the most random cheonging outing ever. i'm not sure who came up with the idea, but i know that it only hit us - the hilarity - when we properly took in that we were standing in a queue of 30-year-olds outside ministry of sound just the two of us. and that even then we refused to face up to reality..resolutely clinging on to our buzz until we could get another drink, being complete loud, giggly (and ironic!) drunks: you announcing (in raised voice surrounded by chinks) how white boys are so much cuter; me literally pointing out the masks the staff were wearing - i.e finger inches from some poor girl's face.
3. that once inside we were in wide-eyed wonder at how massive and gorgeous it was. the escalator!; loving studio 54; oohing at the gorgeous private rooms, faces pressed to the glass in unabashed ulu-ness; and the cage, the cage!
4. and what an adventure: from ploughing into the cage despite the 'we are going to die! what if there's a stampede?' fears, to meeting the most RANDOM people like chiam, ahmad and lynn khan; to being danced up by the most RANDOM men including the moustached admirer and the indian "brothers".
5. all the while knocking it back like sailors, and being so kind to each other: "eh CAREFUL! got STEP there."
and the random memories: that anonymous voice calling my name i literally ran away from; your lovely delight that there were FOUR martinis; the bag counter girl who told us that we had to collect at the back and was there waiting for us when we finally made it (and being kind about us bursting into laughter in her face); hanging out on the podium and spotting chiam and ahmad in the crowd (a massive feat, i must say, considering the number of people squashed into that arena, and my state of sobriety)
i don't think i can properly put into words how much i needed last night. as embarrassed as i was to be like sandra oh in that episode of grey's anatomy where she miscarries and then that scene where she's like "i can't stop crying! WHY can't i stop crying?". and although i didn't have sexy isaiah washington to climb into my bed and comfort me like she did, i had you. and would isaiah washington have gone on a mad MOS adventure and danced up indian men?
and although you didn't understand that reference (the grey's anatomy one) when i brought it up, you understood everything else. you understood that i needed to be a teenager for once, and that i didn't want to be strong and mature and put air quotes around 'fell in love" anymore. that i wanted to deal with everything the tried and tested foolish adolescent way: by crying pools of "why?" tears; and asking all the stupid questions that mature strong women are not supposed to ask...and then getting completely fucked. but more than that you didn't let me do it alone..you went along for the ride and got fucked too just because. so thank you for being more of a friend that i could ever hope to be. and also, for being perhaps the one person in the world that i could feel ok about being a teenager in front of. (and thank you for knowing how hard that is.)
and maybe we will end up at the exact same table in emerald hill number 5 when we're 35 still crying over the same damn things like we fear. and although that thought horrifies me a little bit, it's probably not worth angsting over. because even if we do, at least i know that that lethal combination - 'your face and the alcohol!' - will get me through.
and hopefully then MOS will still be waiting for us with open arms.
1. that you understood how upsetting it was that the chicken. wings. were. not. arriving! and your noise of appreciation when they finally did made me cry from laughing
2. that you absolutely refused to notice that i was in pieces (looking out of the window when we entered the tunnel..so kind!) until i pointed it out. and when i finally did, you let me cry an ocean of tears into my long island tea, offering only your panda tissues, your understanding and your kindness.
3. that you were so up for the most random cheonging outing ever. i'm not sure who came up with the idea, but i know that it only hit us - the hilarity - when we properly took in that we were standing in a queue of 30-year-olds outside ministry of sound just the two of us. and that even then we refused to face up to reality..resolutely clinging on to our buzz until we could get another drink, being complete loud, giggly (and ironic!) drunks: you announcing (in raised voice surrounded by chinks) how white boys are so much cuter; me literally pointing out the masks the staff were wearing - i.e finger inches from some poor girl's face.
3. that once inside we were in wide-eyed wonder at how massive and gorgeous it was. the escalator!; loving studio 54; oohing at the gorgeous private rooms, faces pressed to the glass in unabashed ulu-ness; and the cage, the cage!
4. and what an adventure: from ploughing into the cage despite the 'we are going to die! what if there's a stampede?' fears, to meeting the most RANDOM people like chiam, ahmad and lynn khan; to being danced up by the most RANDOM men including the moustached admirer and the indian "brothers".
5. all the while knocking it back like sailors, and being so kind to each other: "eh CAREFUL! got STEP there."
and the random memories: that anonymous voice calling my name i literally ran away from; your lovely delight that there were FOUR martinis; the bag counter girl who told us that we had to collect at the back and was there waiting for us when we finally made it (and being kind about us bursting into laughter in her face); hanging out on the podium and spotting chiam and ahmad in the crowd (a massive feat, i must say, considering the number of people squashed into that arena, and my state of sobriety)
i don't think i can properly put into words how much i needed last night. as embarrassed as i was to be like sandra oh in that episode of grey's anatomy where she miscarries and then that scene where she's like "i can't stop crying! WHY can't i stop crying?". and although i didn't have sexy isaiah washington to climb into my bed and comfort me like she did, i had you. and would isaiah washington have gone on a mad MOS adventure and danced up indian men?
and although you didn't understand that reference (the grey's anatomy one) when i brought it up, you understood everything else. you understood that i needed to be a teenager for once, and that i didn't want to be strong and mature and put air quotes around 'fell in love" anymore. that i wanted to deal with everything the tried and tested foolish adolescent way: by crying pools of "why?" tears; and asking all the stupid questions that mature strong women are not supposed to ask...and then getting completely fucked. but more than that you didn't let me do it alone..you went along for the ride and got fucked too just because. so thank you for being more of a friend that i could ever hope to be. and also, for being perhaps the one person in the world that i could feel ok about being a teenager in front of. (and thank you for knowing how hard that is.)
and maybe we will end up at the exact same table in emerald hill number 5 when we're 35 still crying over the same damn things like we fear. and although that thought horrifies me a little bit, it's probably not worth angsting over. because even if we do, at least i know that that lethal combination - 'your face and the alcohol!' - will get me through.
and hopefully then MOS will still be waiting for us with open arms.
mm. that was a beautiful entry. sheryl will be very touched, i think.
meanwhile, hellooo!!! and smile more. :)
Posted by
dalena |
1:35 PM
thanks da. i forget you're one of the few people in the world who would know that nickname. :) come visit us at sph soon k
Posted by
chang! |
1:33 AM
eh, how come sheryl gets a pretty nickname like that and i get called 'durian'?! Take care, hon =)
Posted by
nil |
1:57 AM