the creeping changes

i know i'm more prone than most people are to look back. one could almost say i have an unhealthy obsession with the past. we have already obviously established that i'm an obsessive person.

i've probably said this before somewhere, sometime just recently.. that for a long time, i felt like i was still 18... up until... i don't know... maybe some time late last year, when all of a sudden, i felt my age. 24. it's as if mentally, i grow in spurts. my brain is in a kind of denial and doesn't register the changes or acknowledge the lessons learnt, and gets stuck at a specific mental age, until one day, it's as if a stranger comes into your room for the first time and switches on the light. and the furniture are all rearranged, there are new decorations, a fresh coat of paint.

i went back for CNY last year and a lovely old friend from LSE said that I hadn't changed much. Hell, a classmate from my old A level days, 7 years ago (wow has it been that long?) at RJC (who admittedly wasn't close to me) said last year that I hadn't changed that much. I took that as a compliment. Although it could also mean I'm atrophying... especially on a relative basis. hmmm....


it's true enough, that in many ways, i'm still me. maybe because a large part of my character, personality and beliefs were formed quite strongly when I was fairly young. for example, despite my apparent prejudices and judgemental attitude, i've always been essentially quite open-minded to sexual orientation, religion, ideologies, and more of an "equal opportunities employer" (boy-wise) than some of my peers then.

but at the same time, i've realised this holiday season - over christmas, new year, and the beginning of 2007 - that i have grown. my thinking has shifted subtly. my attitude as well. my self awareness has improved, sense of confidence has increased, comfort zone has expanded. truly, i realised a few weeks ago with a sense of surprise, i can say that I have matured.

i wouldn't say i'm entirely mature. and God knows, i may never be entirely mature (for then life would probably be boring), but i feel deeper, more solid. like the core of me is mineral. yet in my mind, there's a kind of light, the kind i imagine you can see reflected on cave walls when from the light that shine onto the pools of water in the cave.

I remember, not too long ago, how painfully shy I used to be. Now, although I'm still not the consummate socialite, I find it far easier to talk to strangers and make conversation.

I am adapting constantly, learning new things. Not only about the people around me, the European individuals, culture. But also new sttitudes. Just in the past 6 months, I went from having a very painfully American high school awkward encounter with an Oxford boy in Plitvice (Croatia), to catching the eye of and smiling at a half Croatian half Armenian melancholic boy (on the same holiday!), to a 3-hour conversation with 40+ married man and head of a desk who I'd met on the plane who talked straight with me and ended up giving me career and romantic advice including that I should be less defensive (he observed very correctly that I would like not have struck up a conversation with him were he not clearly unavailable - older and married) and be more open, to meeting a 32 year old Norwegian music producer in club and going on two dates, and taking the man's advice and striking up a conversation with a young attractive boy on the flight to HK, who turned out to be a lovely but loopy 22 year old Irish architect student who I had amazing giggles with (who has a girlfriend unfortunately). I've just taken a tiny facet of my life as an example: interaction with boys (admittedly one of the most stunted of my development areas) - but one can the see the amazing change in a relatively short period of time. - the learning curve has been exponential and i feel like i've "blossomed" a lot, for lack of a better word.

But not just in this aspect, but others as well. Mostly socially. Organisationally, my room is still a dump.

And it's funny, because I can see that in my baby cousin JS as well. Whenever I look at him, I feel all warm and puffed up with pride, and also a faint bitter-sweetness at him growing up, his childhood days slipping through the fingers like sand. And not just him, but even in friends. Most notably my old friend KL who I've talked about before, and more so for the boys than the girls. But even the girls.

There's a subtle shift. An almost undiscernable slowing down, a hint of weightiness and maturity. An elegance that comes from increased inner confidence and self-assuredness.

The price: the almost imperceptible lines, the beginning of crows' feet around the eyes.

Somehow, I am excited. Curious. I feel like a kid again, eager to find out what the next 10 years hold for me.

I quote (once more) Iris Murdoch's "The Sea, the sea": "Upon the demon-ridden pilgrimage of human life, what next I wonder?"

disconnect

it's strange really... the truth is, i have nothing much to complain about. my life is going just as swimmingly well as it possibly can - my work is boring but well well-renumerating, my work/life balance has actually improved over the last couple of months, i'm fairly healthy, and debt-free, i have things to do, some family and friends that i care for here.

i am one of the lucky ones. just about on the right side of the "haves" in the divide.

i know i should be happy and grateful. i know i should feel blessed.

but it feels a little bit hollow. i lack a grand passion. maybe that's why i'm hung up over the boy. i want to care deeply for someone, i want to care so much that it hurts, that i can be selfless (there's something very dangerous, warped, and S&M about this whole idea of love that I have that just smells of trouble!)

there's this line from "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls that I always felt keenly: "When everything seems like the movies, Yeah you bleed just to know your alive"

I feel like a broken recorder. I'm bored with my own complaints, my boredom.

I am convinced that I have both ADD and and obssessive disorder at the same time, which strikes me being an extremely bizarre combination.

***

daily, i am learning to let go. i am learning that loving is not possessing. i am learning to be Zen and Buddhistic, to accept everything.

Sometimes I feel old, settled. Accepting, resigned. If I accept everything in a Buddhistic way, then nothing will touch me. I fear and am sad over no loss. Because I realise that nothing matters in the wider context of the universe, of even our world and its problems.

That is how I'm coping now. But this life of even keel is tranquil but not vibrant. It's a trade-off that I'm happy to make for now. And it's undoubtedly a trade-off I will come back to again and again throughout my life whenever I am hurt and in pain. But in the long run, at the bottom of my heart, what will I choose in preference over the other?

I've always thought I am more of a passion than a peace girl. But after my first relationship trauma, I chose a life of quiet desperation for 5 years before hurtling madly unwisely into another passion for half a year, before i'm knitting it all up again. with time, repeated games, what will i choose? will the period where the heart rules the head become shorter and shorter, and will I choose the blessed state of unfeeling for longer and longer periods of time until one day that is all I become - a blank canvas?

the psychology of frivolity

Because I now have only one over-riding (immediate) aim in life: to forget Cavé, my life has become simple, almost fun and exciting, in a comic way.

I am always trying to find things to do, to find things to be excited about, put inordinate amount of thought and effort into things I would not have cared about before.

For example, I have a Moulin-Rouge themed house party coming up, and I have expended a not unsubstantial amount of consideration and effort into what I will wear. I did research: googled moulin rouge sites and images. Considered ideas, discarded them. Emailed P for his opinion. I even went shopping this weekend!

Not just for the theme party of course, but to catch the tail end of the Christmas sales. But the theme party provided a motivating force to pound the streets and browse through the rails and rails of discounted clothing. - I am not the kind of girl who can be arsed to just "window shop" unless I have something specific I am looking for.


This weekend's shopping turned out to be fairly fruitful - a brown satin corset top from Coast I'd been eyeing for ages and is now finally half price. A three-quarter length tube dress also from Coast. A pair of knee-length black suede boots from Bertie (my first knee-length boots), which I would say would approximately deserve the term "come-fuck-me" boots, despite not being stillettos.

And I think I have an outfit - my new brown satin corset top, paired with an existing three-quarter asymmetric black skirt (not the best length admittedly), along with my new boots, a hat I bought a couple of seasons ago which can approximate a top hat, and then either long black gloves (to be obtained) or a black feather boa (Ann Summers, £4), or both!

Although, I have to say, the entire outfit (the corset, skirt, boots and hat) look quite dark though, so I might have to consider some bling to brighten it up.

Cousin J said she couldn't believe I was so into the theme party and that I should be given an A for effort, if nothing else. It's completely frivolous of course, this obsession. But it keeps my active mind from being otherwise occupied. I am beginning to have some sympathy for frivolous high society women, and women in olden times, who had spend time pimping, preening, and engage in malicious rumours, gossip, and plotting. The truth is, every mind needs to be occupied. And if one does not have useful employment which utilises brain power, then the human mind will seize the first object(s) it can to pore over.

the tale of a particularly productive weekend

This weekend, or yesterday in particular, has been one of the most productive in recent times.

I went into the office four times in total during the course of the day, the first time starting at 7am, in order to process a markup, and the last ending at 1am. But in between and after, I managed to go to French class, go for a drink with a blind date, watch a movie with a friend, and go out clubbing with colleagues.

It was the first day of the winter term of my new French course. So I have new classmates, of different ages and walks of life, some of whom I've already taken a pretty instant liking to. One was a sharp, politically-incorrect American lawyer with a strong personality whose company I enjoyed. She was fun and interesting to talk to, made some un-PC comments, and we were sitting at the back of the class, along with another English accountant, chatting and laughing and making stupid comments after finishing our group exercises.

The blind date was... somewhat disconcerting. First off, I found out he was from my firm (how impossibly absurdly and comically coincidental is that!). Then, he took me to Mews, this little rather chic yet laid back bar in a charming little hidden cobbled courtyard somewhat off of New Bond Street. As we were walking toward the yet undefined bar, I had a strange sense of deja-vu. It seemed like we were heading to the place Cavé had brought me to, when we had our first discussion over brunch. And it was the same place! I was stunned. Not only had the blind date have to be from my firm, he had to bring me to the same place Cavé brought me to! I was flabbergasted, disconcerted, bemused. Was there a cosmic significance to the coincidence? was the universe trying to tell me something? If so, what??

Movie ("Pursuit of Happyness") with my friend, which ended up, by her choice, to be in the cinema where my cousin works part time, and I met him there. And then after my last trip into the office, I headed out to a lovely club which I had discovered the first time, when I was with my team, where Cavé and I had the second talk.

All in all, a weird day, but one that made me happy and gave me a sense of productivity and achievement.

Today was pretty good too. Finished "Emma", which I started watching post clubbing, until 6am. Dimsum with my housemate, then some window shopping, then a movie with him and his colleague ("Babel") and dinner. Look ma, no work!

I over-ate today with the dimsum and dinner. And I wish I had more time to exercise in particular. But all in all, despite the crazy shuttling to and from work yesterday, I had a great weekend.

I am not going to NYC

I got the unofficial word today, that the NYC thing, it's not happening.

I am semi numb. Unsure of how/what to feel.

Relieved. Disappointed. Panicked. Desperate. Petrified. Frustrated. Despairing. Reckless.

My emotions flash up, are swallowed up. Resurface, disappear.

I need to clear my head of these cloudy emotions and make sure I don't end up making a decision that I will regret. I am afraid I will make a reckless decision in my anger and spite.

I have never been able to be rational where a boy was involved.

My life: zipped, fastforwarded

This year, all eleven days of it, has been weird so far. Surreal (I'm using that word a lot lately, which demonstrates my point precisely).

On one hand, it doesn't seem like it can already be 2007. I have barely gotten used to 2006 yet. And it's already 2007. I am still writing "2006" in all my dates. And it is only with my banker glasses that I'm finally beginning to slightly have, that I manage to catch myself out before all these typos go into presentations and official documents.

On the other hand, it doesn't seem like it has only been eleven days. It seems like it has been much longer. The mood swings, the riot of emotions, thoughts, behavioral patterns, decisions, reversions that I have made, had, makes it seem much longer, and makes my life seem that much richer.

Or maybe it's the whole spirit of the season... not just of these eleven days, but which started mid, or arguably early December. Spirit of contemplation and change.

A good, if milder season of December partying. Then the quiet contemplative down time at the health farm, which I actually found far more enjoyable than I expected. Padding about in a bathrobe all day, sans make-up. Waking up late, having all meals prepared, swimming and exercising with the greatest convenience. A lovely mansion with large grounds.

Then a flight to Hong Kong and a very hectic time rushing around like a hamster on steroids. So much walking, lots of amazing food - from a swish dim sum restaurant with a view at the top of Victoria Peak (which cost just about the same or less than a London Chinatown dim sum place!), to queueing up to get a table at a very local 'hot pot' stall in Temple Street night market where I had salted fish with pork hot pot for HK$25 (HK$15=£1) - in a crowded, crazy place where everyone knows everyone. (I was actually relieved to be back in London - it felt so much more relaxing and leisurely compared to HK!)

And I was with two very different girls, with very different styles, and got to know them both better. Lots of talking, exchanging ideas, contemplating.

My first days back at work were terrible. I was completely depressed and glum. Barely spoke to anyone. I had retreated into my shell, little dreamy crab that I am. And it felt so much like was when I was young again, when I would deliberately walk a circular route just to avoid meeting people and having to talk to them. I was far happier in my own world than interacting with others (which is why I'm having some sympathy with autistic people now, especially post a conversation I had at Champneys).

I especially avoided looking or even talking to the boy. But it's weird because he began intruding into my space and moroseness. Which, still leaves me somewhat bemused (why? just leave me alone!). But I was cajoled by him and the French girl, and a couple of cracks appeared in my stoic, sombre facade (aided by the fact that I'd gotten over my PMS). And then a really funny forwarded email using "bullets" as an analogy for sex and went on in that vein, ending with advice to bite a sweet and experienced bullet, hit me. It cracked me wide open. It was crazy and cute and funny, and parts of it resonated with me and what's on my mind. And I couldn't stop smiling.


I'm trying to live my life a little bit differently this year. Doing my best to keep it real, and keep it sane at work. And I'm feeling actually quite positive about this year. I think this is going to be a year of change. I know I've kept feeling that and thinking that the past few years. And although things Have slowly evolved and changed, not always in ways that I notice until much later, when it hits me suddenly and I'm like: wow... when did that happen? But at the same time, the major things didn't really change. My attitude, philosophy had changed, but not my physical tangible reality. But this year will be different. I really feel good about it - life, love, situation. If nothing else, there's that cute Irish boy I met on the plane... ;)

And now I await with eager anticipation: how will I feel, be like next? What will tomorrow bring?

Hong Kong high

Am in HKIA (Hong Kong International Airport) now, waiting to board my international budget flight back to London.

It's been a whirlwind five days in Hong Kong. It seems like everyone knows everyone in this place. 6.9 million people in the Hong Kong SAR, and yet there are like 5 bars/clubs which everyone goes to. The expat community seems to be really tight. And the Hong Kong chinese (hell... the Southeast Asian chinese community even...) seems pretty small as well nowadays.

The first day I was in HK, when we stepped off a 12-hour flight (during which I'd slept only abt half an hour) straight into a few hours of sightseeing, a dinner at Felix of the famous Gents at Peninsula Hotel, and clubbing at Dragon-I in Lan Kwai Fong, I ended up meeting, entirely by accident, a couple of people from my bank, one of whom I had met before when he was in London, another of whom was a fellow countryman previously working in the London office, but had never spoken to. The second night, we met the fellow countryman walking out of Aqua as we were going in for a quick drink. And on New Year's Ever, I met another fellow countryman, who also studied the UK, who flew in to HK with his girlfriend. And we met a bunch of other Asians, one of whom knows my neighbours in London...

It's scary how small the world is....

All in all, I had a blast. Loved almost every moment of my short time here, despite my aching feet which have never hurt more intensely and over a more prolonged period than during this trip, and despite not having seen the legendary outdoor Buddha at the Po Lin Monastery on Lantau Island (funny story for another time which involved getting lost in housing estates...), not having seen the Wong Tai Sin temple near Kowloon, and having been ripped off by some guy who, I swear to God, looked like a triad member from a HK movie!

I don't know how much of that love is due to having had an amazing time, or how much of it is due to the adrenaline rush of the rushing around and the weird, surreal experience, or how much due to the company and the thinking through things, ideas and half-formed plans that have been popping up frequently (how much of that is due to just having Time to think?), or how much of it is due to pure gratitude at being out of the office, or how much of it is due to having been away from the boy problems at work?

It's all a crazy jumble of thoughts, feelings, ideas.. Suddenly, returning to Asia (at least for a short stint) doesn't seem like such a crazy idea.

One thing for sure, I'm so happy I came out here. As lavish a whim as it was, it was worth the high.

I'm now so upset at having to take a long long flight, then walk off the plane and straight into work. WAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH........

Good night, dear world.

And happy 2007 to us all!!*

Note:
*more about 2007 another time