The Long Way Away From Home

So we made our long journey home from London Heathrow, through to Bangkok's new Suvarnabhumi Airport, and then to Changi International. Along the way we met some other SMU students (seriously, SMU students are everywhere - me and Marc even bumped into some in Eastern Europe), and went for an exorbitant-for-Thailand-but-cheap-for-Singapore Thai massage that cost us 500 Baht for 45 minutes while in transit. It was pretty shiok but my muscles are still tense from sitting down and sleeping upright all day.

Saying goodbye to London and getting on the plane proved easy enough; it is coming back here and dealing with the end of it all that is so hard.

I am not used to the warm weather, or sleeping in my own bed anymore. I am disturbed by the soft whirr of the aircon, having been used to sleeping in heated rooms (heaters are silent mostly). Marc is not next to me, holding me to sleep. I have loads of washing to do, stuff to organize, and a dusty musty room to clean up. But yet I can't get to sleep, perhaps the jetlag or the surging thoughts.

And I also want to see my friends, but everyone seems busy these few days; either that or our schedules clash (and I hate that when it happens). :( Is it my own fault for not having 'booked' them down for tomorrow waaay in advance then? But I was afraid I would be too jet-lagged to go out and then be awful company.

Aye me.

I know I just said goodbye to Marc like a day ago and I'll be seeing him in two days' time. But yet my heart aches, and the loneliness is making me panic. Part of it is because he's existing in a totally different time zone from me now, and I have no idea what he's doing, or if he's safe because I can't get him on his mobile. But most of it is because, when I said goodbye to him at Heathrow, I was also saying goodbye for good to my European adventure.

Our one big adventure that spanned from the Rhine Valley to Budapest to Salzburg to Bath to Paris to London. He still gets to stay on in London, but I have to come home and face the reality that it has ended for me. I am home now. I will see Marc again I know, but not ever in the same circumstances - not in the freezing cold winter of a foreign land, not with the promise of new adventures every day, while we're both on exchange in Europe together.

Our great adventure finally has its ending, and I think that is why we were both sad to say goodbye at Heathrow.

All we have left are memories, and those are so painfully ephemeral. You can't hold it in your hand, like a souvenir, and with time they'll all rub and fade. There is no physical evidence that these things happened, and life here scarily resumes as if you've never left.

Finis

The last time I sat on a long-haul flight, it was from Singapore to London. My hair was much shorter, my fringe worn down as bangs. I was heavy-hearted with confused thoughts and forbidden emotions. My heart was filled with anticipation and an inviting sense of the unknown.

And now, almost as if it were years later, it is time for me to board the plane bound for Singapore. I will be going home.

Home.

As I left it, the same.
No more Bath, streets of London, tube stations, homeless people on sidestreets, gay pubs and straight pubs, fish and chips, Sainsbury's, 3 Starbucks on the same street, old abbeys and museums chockfull of history. My hair will be longer, pinned up and almost grazing my shoulders. I'll return with a mind full of memories. Lots of memories, and lessons I've learnt along the way. Perhaps a heart full of regret and sadness too - that all this has to end, and has, whether or not I like it, come to a final close.

Mon and Yang, thanks for being my companions. We made it through Venetian gelatos, tense travel arguments, drunken reverie, poker obsessions, kitchen debates and lots, lots more. Memories that only three of us share, and hopefully can look back fondly on in months and years to come. I daresay I am glad we did this together. Big hug.

Je Ne Veux Pas Travailler

I'm in Cergy-Pontoise, Paris at the moment, and I've been having a good time here. :)

The night I reached, I rushed down to Opera to watch the ballet Giselle with XT (long story, basically Marc gave me his ticket 'cos we couldn't get me one) and the rest of his classmates. Then we walked to Gare St.-Lazare and had dinner at an overpriced bistro there, but did get to have a good chat with Sally from Vienna, Maria from Mexico, and Karen from Beijing. All three were interesting people, and easy to talk to, so that was good. At first was really pissed with Marc 'cos he ran off to the casino and was late coming to meet us after the ballet, but all's well now. Heh.

It was kind of odd though, sharing a room with both Marc and XT. Lol. Anyway, sat chatting with his friends till 4am before we got some rest. I had to drag my by-then-grumpy ass into the shower to get clean, and then slept relatively sweetly on the queen-sized airbed.

Marc cooked us all lunch, and then we hung around doing nothing much for the rest of the day till dinnertime, where his Hong Kong friends, Casper and Chloe, were cooking for about ten of us. It was really really funny; those two should have their own TV show or cartoon, they're super duper comical. So entertaining :)

Then we went downstairs to Marc's block's fairwell party in the TV lounge area, and it was pretty happening. But we were tired and came upstairs early so he could pack his stuff for tomorrow, when we go to Paris early to meet up with his parents and sisters.

Good time so far; may it be just as good for the next two weeks.

Bath Tubs and Long Goodbyes

I couldn't sleep a wink last night. Got up finally at 7.30am, and realized this was it. My room, bared and cleaned-out, looked uninhabited already. It used to have 'me' written all over it, but now everything was thrown into two luggages and a large duffel bag. I expected to be really sad or overwhelmed, but perhaps it was the lack of sleep - I didn't feel much, really. I just knew I had to leave, and it was coming, and... well, I was going and that was that.

Isa and Mon kindly dragged their butts out of bed (having slept only 2 hours and an hour respectively) to help me with my luggage and see me off, and it was nice having them there. Wouldn't know what to do without the both of you. :) It was only when the bus pulled out of the bus station, and as the Bathstone buildings on Manvers Street sped past the window, that I realized I really probably won't see this place again for the rest of my life. And it felt sad.

I thought about the exchange students - all the people I was thankful to have met. Our little lives there in Bath was so peaceful and idyllic. The pace of life was slow and easy, and it is hard to have it any other way living in a place where there were no tall buildings at all - none more than three or four storeys in height, I believe. Filled with trees, rolling green meadows, and picturesque cottages, how could I not feel heartbroken as I left Bath?

We got to the edge of Bath itself, and hit the A4 motorway. I turned around and saw the city, like a jewel in a palm, perched on the bowl-like nestle between two hills. The weather was gloomy, but I knew how beautiful it looked under the sunlight from my many bus rides to and from London.

As Bath steadily disappeared from behind us, I had to fight back tears.

Bath was not just a pretty town in my mind; it held a lot more to it than that. In these four months, it was my home-ground. Even though I travelled extensively and hardly visited school even, it was still a wonderful place to return to; a safe place. It was in Bath that I experienced all the trials and tribulations of exchange. Where I learnt about the myth of Bladud and the acorns, and watched Shirley Valentine and The Full Monty as part of an exam. Where I got used to cooking and nightly poker tournaments in my kitchen. Where I devoured the entire first two seasons of Scrubs, and came out thinking I understood myself and my friends and life a little bit better. Where the wind almost gusto-ed our feeble foldable umbrellas away. Where love and friendship were the things that kept me going, and sometimes, the things that made me break down.

But as all good things, it came to an end. And I have to accept it, don't I.

"Don't You Ever For A Second Get To Thinkin'...

You're Irreplaceable..."

Since the last post, I :

- ate the most delish chocolate sponge-dessert-in-a-microwaveable-plastic-cup I've had in a long time
- gazed longingly at the Chanel quilted handbag I am coveting (but won't get to buy)
- iced my swollen painful knee (but sadly the anaesthetic effects of that have worn off so now it's swollen and painful again), took a dump, and read a trashy Brit magazine all at once
- took a nice long shower balanced on one leg predominantly
- joked around with Yibs' friends
- scratched my incessant dry-skin rash way too much
- heard Jin sing absentmindedly "To the left, to the left..." a la Irreplaceable from booby/bootay Beyonce (who knew; JIN!)

Evaluation :
Mood improved since just now.

Thornbank Gardens

People I'll miss.

Leila. Anders. Henrik. Kosta. Ernesto. Lucas. Josh. Nicola. Coralie. Sherazade.

Walking After You.

Couldn't sleep a wink last night. Basically lay in bed for four and a half hours, tossing and turning. Despite being extremely exhausted by the night's pursuits (dinner and partying). :(

So here I am in London with Yi and S, and I am extremely extremely drained. And my right knee has become swollen and painful again, thanks to the major luggage lift today up Yi's 7 flights of stairs. Thank goodness they were there to help me, don't know how I'd have survived otherwise. But nonetheless hurt my knee when I came down from the bus hauling the bigger luggage. Ouch.

We had so-so Spanish food for dinner, and ordered portions sufficient for six instead of three. Guilt-ridden, but extremely stuffed, we left the place somewhat unsatisfied. Booh.

Off to Paris tomorrow. Let's hope it'll all be better, and my appetite and sleep will resume to normal after meeting Marc.

I want to feel good again.

Unreality

O Joy of Joys! My internet is back up! :D

For the past three nights, my internet has resolutely refused to work, and I have been mee-sir-abble. No MSN, no blogging, no blog-surfing, no Googletalk. The internet of everyone in the corridor -save for MON! - also stopped working, and it's been the source of plenty o' cussing and swearing (most of which actually was verbally said to a poor Resident Helpdesk guy by the American, but that's another story for another day). But finally, on my last day in Bath, it's suddenly come back. Phew.

It's scary, last days. It truly feels so surreal, that after tomorrow morning I'm leaving for good and never coming back here. Thornbank Gardens has been my social circle, my haven, my source of food, my 'library' (where I mug)... it's been the centre of my Bath universe. (Okay, maybe Sainsbury's will contend for a close second place)

I'm sad. I cannot deny it. As I sprung awake at the very late hour of 3pm, I not only panicked about missing the coffee appointment with both Mon and Isa (then realized Mon was still asleep, and Isa wasn't answering his phone), but I also panicked about my final hours here. How am I going to spend it well?

The exchange students are going out tonight, because Anders is also leaving tomorrow. [Damn, after I leave today, no more Norwegian eye candy! :( :( :( Singapore where goooootttttttt. *whine* ] I'd love to go, but I think I need to go home early, because I still need to pack up my shite - and it's a worrying lot of shite. I hope Isa still holds his offer of helping me to the bus station :S

In other news, my exams are over after my last paper yesterday. Though I do still have a paper to write that's due on January 26th. But whatever. The exam was okay, I think I'll be able to pass... and Mon'll top the class again I bet, despite needing only pass/fail and other exchange students having direct grade transfers. Haha. Talk about 'spoil market' here eh.

Ok, Mon's waiting for me to have tea in the kitchen. I'll blog again later hopefully, before I pack my laptop into my luggage.

Into my luggage. 'Cos I'm leaving. It's the last day. Last 24 hours. GAAAAAHHHH

SHOCKSHOCK HORRORHORROR.

And So It Is Almost Adieu

Sunday, Monday, Tuesday.

I have three more days left in Bath, before I leave for good. This exchange term at the University of Bath is really, at last, coming to an end. These kinds of things end suddenly, like a slap in the face, y'know what I'm sayin'? Before you know it, it's over, and you're left reeling from its quick and abrupt end.
You wonder, what happened to all that time? Where'd it go?

I wanted to write a concluding entry that sums up this entire experience - perhaps to remind myself of all that I have accomplished and learned and growed since I first set foot on European soil. It has been such a whirlwind road of memories and experiences and ups and downs, I don't really know where to begin.

Chronologically speaking then, the two weeks spent traveling from London, to Barcelona, to Paris, to Venice and Rome will always remain in my mind a great adventure. And I will always remember the beautiful lapping canals of Venice, the 11pm lightshow at the Tour Eiffel where we took stupid photographs and videos, the grandeur (amidst the blistering heat) of the Roman Forum, and the delicious Italian gelato and pizza we consumed along the way.

The experience of travelling with Marc is also something I cherish very much. The times spent exploring castles along the Rhine, soaking in the 38-degree Budapest Szechenyi baths in 6-degree weather, walking hand in hand talking about everything and nothing... It was priceless. And for all our quarrels and frustrating moments, I still am glad and proud that we made it through these five months. I hope you are too.

Hanging out with my sister and her friends is very meaningful to me too. I got to see her life in London, the friends she hangs out with, the things they do. Previously we spent two years living apart, and I could only imagine what it was like leading her life; it is so hard being distant. And what different lives we were (and still are) leading but at least now I can comprehend better what she tells me about her day. And her friends were such absolute gems, I am so glad to have gotten to know each and every one of them. Warm, friendly, open-hearted. They are right up there on my list of "People I Am Glad to Have Gotten To Know on Exchange".

Last but not least, the experience of living overseas - cooking for myself, doing my own laundry, managing my own spending (on Excel sheets no less!), and often being there for myself when no one else could be. I've learnt that I am more gung-ho than I thought I was. Travelling alone for twelve-hour stretches (first by bus/train, then train again, then plane, then train...) to meet Marc in some foreign airport or train station; carrying tons of luggage up and down tube stairs; fielding a foreign city with a badly drawn map and absolutely no idea where you are going or how to get there - yeah, I've done it, and survived. Emotionally too, I'd like to think I've grown in many ways. Ways I won't state here, but keep close to my heart.

What a trip this has been, really. And even then, I don't think I will fully comprehend how this impacts me until I get home. I just hope I won't be depressed at being back home (with the problems that come with it), and instead face it with renewed strength, peace and positivity.

The Words That Stuck.

" There is no shangri-la. Every relationship is messed up; it's when it totally sucks and you still want to stick around, that you know it's perfect."

- Carla, Scrubs Season 2 Ep ?

I'm not sure exactly why, but while watching Scrubs with Mon just now, that line got me thinking.

I have my share of baggage. I am far from perfect. I feel too much in most instances; I can be awfully insecure; and I struggle to find happiness day-to-day. Some days just being alive and around people feels like such a challenge. Some days I just hate myself for being me.

I want someone who, despite knowing all this, won't run away. Who, upon hearing my innermost fears and insecurities and hurts, can still hold my gaze and tell me he wants me just the same.

To be accepted and loved. All I ask.

Christmas Dinner Night + Poker

'Nuff said.

It was a good night :) Good food, lovely company, plenty of laughs. And the Zee is satisfied. :)

"That's because you eat rice all the time... all you eat is rice, rice, rice"

Fucking hell.

So angry I'm speechless.

I don't like Milan Salami (from Sainsbury's), because all I eat is rice?

KNNCCB, throwing a racial stereotype in my face, so shamelessly too. What have you got to show for it, you Italian in your tight tee and faux-hip clubbing photos. Mr. I-Don't-Do-Blondes. Fuck off back to Oxford.

These ang moh fuckshits. They are just a dozen-a-penny aren't they.

How did you expect me to react.

--------------------------------------------

P.S. Told him he was a dickhead, when I encountered him in the kitchen again. And he pretended he didn't intend that comment to be racist. It doesn't matter if you meant it that way dude. It was just insensitive. Think before you speak.

And you. Don't know what to say.

We found the turkey breast, but

we sure left our good moods behind.

Both me and Mon are grumpy. I think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed (but Marc smartly pointed out there's only one side of the bed to get out of for me, since my bed's to the wall - but I told him precisely 'cos I got off the side with the wall, hence the mood. Duuuuude.), and she's PMS-y, plus... well, other stuff. As I just told her on MSN, I'm in "the i-feel-ugly-and-unattractive-and-fat-and-got-so-much-work-can't-finish-but-feeling-lazy-argh-i-hate-myself mood".

(grey cloud looms overhead)

Yibs just asked me on MSN if we "found the turkey boobs". LOL. Good one there, sis! Made it sound downright unappetising too.

Called Marc for a rallying talk ("I feel horrible!" - "insert reassurance phrase here") and he's in central Paris, walking around some ugly artsy museum place or some such thing. You see, MissPiggy, his good friend, has decided to pay XT and him a visit in Paris. I hate her guts, because you see, she hates mine. How do I know this? Well, she icily stares through me each time I say hi to her. On purpose.

The reason for her animosity is that she used to have something for him. And what else could be making her hate me? Hmmm... Well, gee, I don't really know, but could it be that I'm...

1) Skinnier than her? Check.
2) Prettier than her? Hell yeah, check. (most people are)
3) Has the boy she wants? (gasp) Oops, yeah, check.

Ooooops.

Bah Humbug

Bizarre dream this morning - it involved birthday surprises thrown by a whole bunch of people I wasn't close to, domestic tension, and having to re-perform Anything Goes at Victoria Concert Hall, but realizing I clean forgot some song verses and almost lost my voice as well.

Geez.

Then I get up and realize it's 3.15pm. Booo. Half the day gone, Mon and I still have to go to Waitrose to pick out Turkey Breast for tomorrow's early Christmas dinner with our kitchen group, and I've been peer-pressured into going out tonight with the gang. But guys...

1) I don't have anything pretty to wear *whine whine whine*
2) I'm feeling semi-sick
3) I'm having a skin breakout now
4) I really should be using my time to study and start on my Entrep essay or else I won't finish it in time
5) If I go, I don't even drink, so I'll just be standing around looking bored while the rest of you flirt shamelessly with each other, aided by intoxication

(pouts sullenly)

Today wasn't quite so good as yesterday, I can feel it already.

But thanks M for trying to make it that way without knowin' it, with the sweet phone call this morning. :) I'm a sucker for those "just to say..." phone calls. Heh.

A Moment.

Really, good days like this don't come too often for me, so I'm feeling thankful.

Let it be remembered, today was a good day. And my heart is smiling for it.

Julie Andrews is Still The Best

... I'm just listening to Mary Poppins' "A Spoonful of Sugar", and remembering how you - the type who never remembers lyrics but melodies only - can sing the entire song to me, in your chirpy, best Mary Poppins impersonation.

:D

Yes, a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down.

What Is Real, Is Just A Dream

I picked myself out of bed finally at 2pm today, and groggy-headed, went to town with Mon. We were on a focused grocery shopping mission trip to pick up rice vermicelli and juice, but that eventually included a disastrous detour to Topshop. Well, thing is, I ended up finding a really funkychicken grey dress that looks cool without being smutty, and two pairs o' cute undies. So I blew 33 quid. In my defence, Mon spent 28 quid, so she's not that far from moi. (raises eyebrows)

Then I went to Sainsbury's and bought shortbread, fruit smoothie (to make up for lack of fruit), and Ribena.

And that was how the 40 quid I placed in my wallet just this afternoon was spent.

But oh god shopping and finding a nice dress is just so gratifying. And the dress wasn't that expensive - it was 25 quid, and it has 30% wool so the material isn't the shit-cheap jersey type. I just hope it won't be too itchy scratchy in Singapore's heat.

Boy oh boy we're going home soon, and the prospect is both comforting and unsettling all at once. Life's ironies. Countdown stands at 22 days to home, and 7 days to Paris. Yet if you look at it the other way round, 22 days to end-of-experience, 7 days to never-seeing-Bath-again. Woot.

Congratoolayshuns to those two babes of my life. Both bound for foreign shores, and certain adventures. :)

Shall I say this? It's been a good day today, a long time coming. I've not had one of those for way too long, and it feels good.

The Hush Sound

Soooo. We had our E Lit exam today. One more on Monday, and I would also like to finish my paper by next Tuesday (before I leave for Paris). But anyways, I'm glad Mon and I decided to discuss the content of the exam yesterday night together, because we came up with many good points through brainstorming.

Tonight we're cooking Chinese food for our kitchen group-mates, but as of now - 7.45pm - only one of them is at 'home'. Bah! I hope they all remember that it's tonight. I was sooo tired after class, but still had to go to Sainsbury's and lug back all that heavy schtuff in the cold rain. Jeez. I hope all of it is worth ittttt. Come home peeps!

Hobnobs coated in chocolate taste of reassurance. So does Vitasoy. Mmmm. :)

Got C's email, and read it over and over again. Will reply soon babe, so happy to hear from you. :)

Shed This Skin I've Been Trippin' In

So this past weekend was spent in London, mainly to catch The Amorous Ambassador, a play staged by LSE students. Victor was leading man that night, and he took a lot of the challenges the role confronted him with, and ran with it. Good job dude! :)

Seen here as a Tarzan man, ready for some action with his amorous adulterous French maid (played by a Christine-lookalike) This guy Rashid played a cross-dressing boyfriend to another character (seen here on the left), and I was amused by his teddybear cuteness. I didn't quite enjoy the girl's performance though.Us at Oxford Street on Saturday afternoon, when they'd closed off the road to traffic! It was mad-crowded, and it's not even pre-Christmas sales season yet. Me and Yi met Fon and Lap for dinner at Four Seasons restaurant in Bayswater. That was the absolute bestest duck I have ever eaten, EVER! (Hsinj - I now know what you mean dude) Btw I thought it was Four Seasons the hotel at first. Lol. Fontaine is seen here with us - she was in the same sch as us since Primary school days. So we're old, old friends. Currently pursuing her harp degree in music at Guildhall. Fantastically talented. Lap Hang and me. He's a first year at Imperial College, in Microbiology. Nice to meet up with him again after years of not seeing him, just like old times. Meet Hailey and Emily, Hailey's younger sister. These two are comical, bubbly, and down-to-earth girls. Love 'em! Notice the similar dresses. Cute right! The long familiar bus rides to and from London are my favourite times to space out. Aaaah. Peace and solitude.
Evidence of how beautiful the English countryside really is - rolling meadows and pastureland.

I just liked this picture so here it is. Hehe.

The Avon river flowing through Bath.

Now that I'm back here in Bath, it's time to sit down and mug for tomorrow's paper. Except I don't quite know how to mug for a Lit paper on FILM. And it's not an open-book paper either. Lol. Oh well.

Y'know what, I was just thinking, I have one more month left here in UK/Europe. It has been a helluva journey with as many ups as there have been downs. And I wonder if K is right - if I've really let things, people - other people - get to me too often, instead of living for myself. I know I'm the sort of person who spends too much time thinking about the negative things, and forget the good things that do exist. When I recount this experience, do I only want to think about the times I've been let down, disappointed, hurt? Or the times that changed the way I see the world, the beautiful things and interesting people I've met, the experiences I'd never thought I'd have but did in the end...?

So for these few weeks, I'm going to try and block out any bad/sad things that happen, and focus on the good, and only the good. Because, I believe, it is up to me to shape how I will remember these remaining days, and essentially the entire exchange, as it ends.

Wish me luck - optimism, here I come.

Do I Have To Fall Asleep With Roses In My Hand

LSE's Malam Bakti play night was a good night out. :) The cast were hilarious, and given five weeks to prepare, they did a stellar job. Comic timing, acting... kudos. They made me miss acting - the whole series of preparing, stressing, learning your positions and timings, tearing your hair out, getting butterflies... and then, the whoosh! and high of performing, the flurry backstage, the rush of audience response onstage.... followed by the relief of it being over, and the praises and compliments, not only from audience members but your own cast members.

Lovely, lovely. I'm feeling nostalgic now. (sad)

After the play, we all trotted down to Chinatown for supper/dinner at Gao Chat ('97), in a group of about 20. We split tables, of course, but chinese food was gooood. And Mon and I had bubble tea. Only the most unbelievably annoying thing happened to me. These three surly Chinese guys - middle aged, shifty looking - were sitting behind us. And one of them got up, and, and - SNEEZED IN MY HAIR. By SNEEZED, I meant he rained snot/saliva on my hair. And I mean rained, because it was DROPLETS that I could feel LANDED in my hair. BIG DROPLETS. It wasn't even a sprinkle okay.

I was SO PISSED. SO SO SO PISSED. And he didn't even apologise, which just proves to me he did it on purpose. Because come on, you can't do that, and sort of not know you sneezed so hard onto someone's head! He just continued walking (to the toilet I assume). When we left the restaurant, I threw a sharp sideways glance at the three of them, and it seemed they were diao-ing me too. WHATEVER DUDES.

I washed my hair with a generous dollop of shampoo, but even now I feel the back of my head crawl. *shudder* ROAR!!!

Honestly, this sort of thing only happens to me. (shakes head and sighs)

Fuckanathans. Low-lifes. (mumbles curses under breath)

Aside from that, it was a good night. Yibs, I think your friends are fun :) I'll miss them all when I return to Singapore.

See, I told you I was getting nostalgic. Raarh.