Girl and City

On Saturday night, WAF and I went to M2 where my friends from TheBusinessSchool, MBB and SFG, had a table with some of MBB‘s friends. The club had a decent-sized dance floor and an even more decent-sized crowd. On one side of the dance floor was a raised platform upon which Lady Gaga-esque back-up dancers (I think they were paid dancers) were shaking their booties to top 40 hits. All night long the booze kept flowing, we had an endless supply of Grey Goose vodka and Johnnie Walker Black Label whiskey. Amazing!

LAC was a friend of a friend’s and arrived a little after we did. I saw him standing next to the table with nowhere to sit, so I asked the two girls beside me to scooch in so he could have a seat. I hadn’t even been introduced to him or gotten a proper look at him, and the opened-up seat wouldn’t be beside me, so it was clear I wasn’t doing it to sit next to him and flirt. I was just being nice. I knew what it felt like to arrive at a party and only know one other person and stand awkwardly on the outside. He did notice me for my nice act though, and half an hour later, when a seat opened up next to me, he sat down and introduced himself. It was only at this point that I noticed how cute he was. He was Cantonese but raised in L.A., and now he was working in Shanghai. He spoke Cantonese, English, enough Mandarin to get by, a bit of Spanish (because of LA), and a bit of French (because his grandparents were living in Ottawa). We were only chatting harmlessly for a few minutes when WAF came over to ask me if I wanted to go dance. I assumed I would excuse myself to the dance floor and come back in a few minutes, but he surprised me by getting up and taking my hand. He was coming with me? I led him on the dance floor and when I turned around, I saw that WAF had not followed us. A few minutes later, she appeared with MBB‘s best guy friend. Apparently she had felt the need to grab a dancing partner at the last minute. I couldn’t blame her. Unfortunately, MBB‘s best friend was not into her at all and barely danced; his disinterest was so immediately obvious that I don’t know how she got him to go to the dance floor with her in the first place.

LAC was not a great dancer by any stretch of the imagination, but at least he didn’t create his own rhythm to interfere with the music. Nonetheless, I avoided the dance floor most of the night and we just sat at the table, talking and cuddling. WAF was miffed that I found arm-candy so quickly, but I wasn’t worried that she would be able to find her own. By some strange twist, she couldn’t, and almost ended up making out with my friend, MBB.

LAC wasn’t very talkative and I noticed that he asked very few questions about me. But I had no doubt he was into me because he asked for my number very quickly and was physically keeping me next to him. Maybe he wasn’t a talker but his actions told me enough. He was among the hottest guy I’ve ever picked up, and he was also among the sweetest. When I couldn’t find my clutch¹, he walked around the whole club with me twice to look for it. He didn’t seem as concerned as I was, but in the end, it was still he who found it. He asked me to go outside with him, and we sat outside the club for a long time just talking. When he kissed me, he didn’t try to stick his tongue down my throat. Instead, his lips were soft and surprisingly gentle. (more…)

1. I had left it with MBB and they had moved tables and I couldn’t find the new table. [↩]

At 6pm on Tuesday, I rushed from CDR‘s downtown condo, where we had all been gathered for an Ikea-furniture-assembly party, to the poshest part of the City to meet friends from The Business School for dinner. As I exited the metro, I slipped off my ballerina flats for a pair of simple black pumps, and immediately, I was dressed for a semi-formal meal.

I arrived to find TM and BPB waiting for me at the bar. TM handed me a colourful striped box.
“What’s in it?” I asked him.
“Read the tag,” he said with a smile.
I flipped over the tag on the box. You drink, right? It read.
“Is this what I think it is? Is it a bottle of Gewurtzraminer?” TM had found out my favourite white was Gewurtzraminer during our Europe trip. I was pleased he remembered.
“I know you love it.”
“I do! Thank you!” I gave him a hug.

I hadn’t seen BPB in a long time, since he had been on exchange in Hong Kong all semester. I turned to him and gave him a hug too.

Moments later, the rest of the party streamed in, including Jasmine and Vin Diesel, carrying a huge bouquet of flowers. I had never received flowers from a non-boyfriend before. And the bouquet had white calla lilies, which looked so beautiful and elegant. Of my Europe trip-mates, Jack Sparrow was the only one who couldn’t make it, but he sent me a text: “You are one of my favourite Asians.” Coming from him, that meant a lot.

Dinner was quite pleasant, and although the Italian food was not as good as what we’d had in Italy, it certainly reminded me of it, and that was enough. After dinner, we went to a penthouse lounge nearby for some champagne and astonishing views of the City.

The entire night, I made sure to spend some time talking to each person, and the more I chatted, the more it dawned on me how strong my roots in the City really were. When I’d chatted with PHB a few weeks ago, he had told me to see Singapore as not only a new chapter in my life, but also an opportunity for a fresh start. When I heard that, I was reminded of how excited I used to be when I was a little girl every time I switched schools (which was quite often). Every time I went to a new school, I had the opportunity to re-invent myself. If I wasn’t very popular in my last school, no problem, this time I would make the right friends and start anew.
But it’s different now. I’m not looking for a fresh start. I like who I am here, and I like my friends here. I don’t feel frustrated or suffocated such that I need to get away, that wasn’t the reason I took this job. I took this job because it was a rare opportunity to challenge myself, but that doesn’t mean I won’t miss what I have here, who I am in this City. For the first time in my life, I had established roots.

And here I am picking up my life and moving.

On Sunday, while I was out shopping for a money belt, BI texted me the following in three separate messages:
Two things.
I miss you.
Where’s a good place for brunch in The City?

When I received the first two messages, I thought she was drunk-texting me. I have never been drunk-texted by a girl, much less on Sunday morning, so I was quite amused.
The Drake Hotel, I texted back.
She asked if I could join her for brunch.
I am with some guys from last night but they are leaving, she said.
I raised an eyebrow but only texted back, No problem.

Two hours later, CMA and I arrived at The Drake Hotel (I invited CMA at the last minute because she was a classmate of ours that had just moved to The City and I knew she was dying for me to take her to The Drake, or anywhere for that matter). I spotted BI immediately, lounging with – not one, not two – but four guys on the couches by the window. (more…)

It’s amazing how crazy things can get when you’re with some of your closest friends and you know it’s going to be your last time out together and you just don’t want the night to end. What was supposed to be a night-in with some Thai food and a board game turned into a fancy dinner, clubbing, strip club, and a very late night (or early morning) shisha session.
My night in numbers:

• Number of cigarettes: 5
• Number of lesbian kisses: 2
• Number of lap dances: 1
• Number of unattractive strippers: 6
• Number of attractive strippers: 1
• Number of slices of pizza: 3
• Number of units of alcohol: what do you think?

(more…)

I was looking through old emails and chat logs between MFL and I (despite knowing better than to wallow in the past – or rather, our past – because I am a glutton for punishment obviously), and I noticed that I rarely told him how I felt about him. In our entire three-year relationship, I probably said things along the lines of “I missed you,” “I thought about you,” etc. a total of four times. And I never, ever said “I love you.”
Similarly, I never discussed my relationship in my blog entries from that time, to the point that when I mentioned “my boyfriend” in one entry, one of my long-standing blog friends actually left a comment asking, “What?? You have a boyfriend? Since when??”

I was reflecting on this over coffee with BI yesterday, using it as an example of how I’ve changed since high school.
“I was so ignorant about what it meant to be in a relationship. I had no idea what was considered normal behaviour as far as showing one’s feelings. Sure, I showed him I cared in my own way, but maybe by missing out on all the cliched things, I made him feel more unsure about our relationship.”
Like a horse being whipped, words started tumbling out of my mouth at lightning speed. “I was so clueless! I didn’t know what it meant to be someone girlfriend. I didn’t know what to expect of anything. And I never talked about my feelings – not to him or to my friends.”
I took a breath.
“But now, now I know it’s ok to talk about my feelings. In fact, it’s expected that you tell your partner how you feel about them – they want to hear it! I also know it’s ok to talk to your friends about your relationship, I mean I’ve seen Sex and The City, which taught me all I need to know about commiserating. Since then, it seems like all I can talk about on my blog, with my friends, is boys! Boys, boys, boys!”
BI nodded with comprehension.
“Given that I’ve come such a long way in terms of understanding relationships between men and women, you’d think that I’d be better at it. But guess what? In the last four years, my longest relationship lasted two months.
That is the greatest irony of all. When I was in high school, I didn’t plan to have a relationship at all. I didn’t take high school relationships seriously and would have been just fine if I had graduated without ever having a boyfriend. Instead, I ended up in a three-year relationship.
But when I went to university, I was totally ready for a relationship, and guess what? In the last four years, I haven’t had a single relationship where I would actually call the boy ‘my boyfriend.’”

BI chuckled and shook her head. “Maybe ignorance is bliss after all. Once you knew what to expect, those expectations may have actually been a barrier to you falling for someone.”

Maybe she’s right. Maybe that’s why first loves seem so perfect – because they’re easy. We’re all clueless with our first love, and it’s a clean slate. Our expectations only grow from there.

But my own statistics still left me baffled. “Four years. Hundreds of boys on campus. I mean, you’d think I could find one genuine love interest, right? Even if my expectations have changed, what are the odds that I would not like a single person in four years of university?”

For that, BI had no answer.