Blackholes

Swirling instances of time passing, laughter, clinking glasses of wine, late night scrapbooking, pink toenails and slate grey fingertips. Hours and hours spent crunching numbers, flights to catch, moments away from this reality. THIS reality.

Running on a never ending road, being chased by zombies and memories of imagination. The silent pounding of half marathon runners at 6 am starts in the dark and rompe played at full blast. Pacing. Pacing. Pacing.

Goals achieved. Let's rewind this year again. More goals.


Now 2012, what shall I do with you?

1) Get promoted
2) Run a half marathon
3) Travel to someplace new
4) Kick bootcamp ass!
5) Keep saving money!

http://thoughtcatalog.com/2012/things-i-wish-people-told-me-when-i-entered-my-twenties/


"Games of phone tag will go on for six months until it’s reduced to a catch-up email. “How are you, my old best friend I used to share everything with? Is the weather nice where you are?” This is acceptable for a lot of friendships but with certain ones, you’ll want all or nothing. You’ll want to respond, “Either be in my life completely or not at all because it’s too painful to have you in the in-between.”

There's something fishy...

..going on in the air right now. Pollution + Cough + Painful jaw/throat makes for a terribly unhappy Christina.

Stanchart this weekend+Italy next week and a whole backbloodylog of work makes for a chaotic week. I miss bootcamp already. Urgh.

Sekeping Tenggiri

Weekend's are such islands of contentment.

Sekeping Tenggiri comes across as such a raw retreat smack in the middle of Kurau and Bilis streets. Lol. But really, I'm tempted to rent out the place for my birthday this year, might just do that! It's totally awesome.


Watched Madagascar3 which was a so-so movie but there really is nothing else better out right now! Caught up with the KLASS girls over a civilized tea session at TWG with not so civilized manners and clanging of teacups and knives in an attempt to cut semi-hard scones. Wasted money on plug chargers when I should have checked whether it came with the Iphone to begin with. Gah, chalk up another stupid thing I do.

Eschewed family dinner for Tango seeing how I missed Tuesday. I'm beginning to think I like leading more than I do following. Egads! So much more fun! Control...

And Monday back in full force again. Flying under radars for now. Phew.

花樣年華

Siempre que te pregunto Que cuándo cómo y dónde Tú siempre me respondes Quizás, quizás, quizás Y así pasan los días Y yo desesperando Y tú, tú, contestando Quizás, quizás, quizás Estás perdiendo el tiempo Pensando, pensando Por lo que más tú quieras Hasta cuando, hasta cuando

I've been wanting to watch "In the Mood for Love" for ages especially since it has spilled into common culture and passing comments of "one of those" movies, like "Farewell my Concubine", or "Raise the Red Lantern".

It was definitely a slow film, but sometimes you don't need words, action or conversations in order to entertain. After all, passing through life, I can't help but figure that reality is defined by the silences. Like walking through a foreign city by yourself and being silent while the noises of traffic, people and activity overwhelms. Surprising isn't it? That the island of quiet can exist. I often feel that I'm quietest when I'm in the midst of activity.

So this movie captures that perfectly, those silent walks to a quick takeaway. The rain and conversations and routine. Completely mundane, but her Cheongsams make me wish they were common day dresses nowadays. The absence and pain of  a cheating spouse turned slightly comical when they were re-enacting the scenes of confrontation. Where imitating the person that is hurting you becomes the only salvation to get through reality.

But the ending was something else. When the word flashed on the screen, I was left with the stunned silence that comes with completely unfulfilled endings. Seemingly no one is ever happy by the end of chinese movies.

That's life isn't it? Where two people's threads of life connect and dissipate, overlap and diminish. What you're left with is nostalgia. νόστοςἄλγος.

But, oh, so, restrained! Throughout.

Opulance

The beautiful things in life enthrall us all do they not? But with constructed beauty also comes a recognition that there is a $ sign behind every object that's presented in the pages of a magazine.

Sitting in The Bee yesterday with my absolutely gorgeous boozy milkshake and waiting for friends to come, I was thumbing through the magazine before stumbling upon coverage on Chanel's Metiers D'Art show which took place in Paris with a "Bombay" theme. Which involved lots of kohl and some Indian models thrown in the mix obviously. Oh, and Karl has never gone to India. Duh. He would die the instant he steps into that place.

That's where I started contemplating about how sometimes we are often disillusioned by the romanticism of a place. This means the constant references to obscure locations, "Oh have you tried Ku De Ta in Bali?" or "Have you never been to Paris? Milan? Barcelona? You should! It's beautiful."

Often I then find myself in these places, these mythical "Shangrila's" of the world and fairly, it's gorgeous, but after a while seems disappointing-Niagara Falls..seriously..you're water going over an edge-.

What I do remember are scenes like, sitting in the Highline writing an epic diary entry. Waiting by the sidelines of my first Milonga. Reading in Sweetwaters. Making epic treks from AA to NYC on a bus with chinese people who do not speak mandarin. Searching the streets for the original Magnolia Bakery. These are the stories I pull out that touched me in some way, because the convergence of purpose and emotion. Concoctions of life. Like those boozy milkshakes. So perfect.