He kept asking me in his gravelly voice, are you happy?
And then I realised that that was truly the definition of love
The ardent wish to make that person happy
Not a desire to possess, not even the pain of heartbreak
But a wish for his happiness, always.
Monthly Archives: July 2006
He kept asking me in his gravelly voice, are you happy?
Did you know that the “halo” referred to in the song means a condom? I totally didn’t know. Bizarre. Anyway my sunday mornings are a lot more wholesome- today was sweeeeet! Especially with my Strawberry Cream Cheese Pie. *gringringrin* I’ve been using a lot of cream and berries in my baking lately- inspired by the summer heat. Haha who am I kidding I love berries and cream and cream cheese so when recipes combine these I seize them lasciviously.
So anyway today was the best!!!! It was the Feast of St Ignatius (my church’s patron saint) so our happy family choir threw a potluck breakfast thingamagig that was absolutely lovely with kiddos running about and climbing treehouses and getting soaked by the sudden downpour and us analysing developing love triangles amongst the “younger generation”. My saddest moment was when my beautiful pie was brought out of the kitchen (I had dropped it off to be refridgerated before mass) brutally and savagely chopped into a dreadful mess. I had painstakingly arranged the ruby red strawberries last night and my heart was shredded into a million tiny fibres. But nevertheless it was yummilicious and gone in a flurry of grabbing. Have to make more next time.
So ends today’s bake-apades. Tommorrow: Blueberry Pie.
PS: I love my choir! I swear we are the happiest family in the world. I could barely sing the last hymn because when Hannah/Aunty Gin announed that the final hymn was Noble Knight (tribute to the saint) Frances was like “Yay!” and she was just below the mike. Wah fainted. I was shaking with laughing so much so that I couldn’t breathe yet alone sing for the first two stanzas. Well done France.
I don’t know if it’s just me but law school appears to be falling apart at the seams, especially with regard to certain social circles. I’m mostly an onlooker. I make my comments to Tim, but not much else. Since the first cracks appeared last year, I’ve learned to keep my distance. Some observations:
1) People aren’t evil. They are rash though and not everyone deliberates each act before going through with it.
2) Sometimes taking sides is pointless.
3) While people may not be evil, they may not be good for you. The breaking point must be recognised and observed.
I guess that’s more of less it. I’m not particularly egalitarian- I will always give my friends the benefit of the doubt but at least I will admit to my own prejudices and allow for the shading of perspectives they are wont to give.
While I trust people too easily, becoming close friends with them is another thing altogether. I invest a lot of myself in my friends and when things go wrong, I take it badly. If I seem aloof it’s only conditioned from the scratches and bruises I’ve suffered on life’s path of learning. In an ideal world, everyone would be trustworthy and loyal and loving but of course- that is merely a delusion.
However, I thank God everyday that in times like these, I still have you guys. My only constants in this whirlwind world. You’re my family away from home. We’ve shaped each other from the children we once were. We’ve been there through the triumphs and the tears, the bubbling joy of first love, the crushing breakups. It seems that time has stood still for us and nothing has changed since the day we first encountered each other amid shuffling chalk white velcros and pleated pinafores.
Okay I don’t hate hate clubbing. It, like everything else, has its ups and downs. We went to Butter Factory yesterday night- nice place, too much smoke. I can’t wait for the smoking bans to come next July. It was slightly strange attempting to dance without a trace of alcohol in my blood but not too bad. Thank God it wasn’t as crowded as Phuture.
I still prefer chilling though. Anyone up for Wala’s on Friday?
Is an awful thing. I hate seeing people get drunk. I hate being eyeballed by lians and bengs outside ‘Zhuk’. I hate when people take forever to decide whether they’re gonna go in and get mad at each other because they can’t agree. I hate the pretense, the deftly machinated delusion of self importance because you don’t have to queue or you can get in free- created by the club itself no less. I just think the whole thing is so screwed up.
It used to be fun, sometimes. But alcohol doesn’t do it for me. I don’t really get high and giggly or lose my inhibitions. I get giddy and sick feeling and my vision blacks out. So it isn’t fun for me. The dancing was good when it wasn’t crowded to the point where I was provoked to impaling feet with my stilettoed heel.
There are too many factors deciding whether a night will be good or not. The mood, the people, the crowd and people are so volatile that the odds are just not worth it. It’s a waste of time, and make up. I’m so sick of clubbing.
Life’s been so happy. I love the holidays.
When Frances french braids my hair. Biting into a piping hot raspberry cream cheese muffin. Cuddling my brother while we watch cartoons together. Screeching to hit the high notes. Suppering and watching my self control dissolve before a fluffily crispy casuarina prata. Strolling through Orchard in illegal skirts and wedges. Making out everywhere. Cooing at the length of baby Eva’s eyelashes in church. Chilling with the girls to our favourite band. Dreaming. Laughing. Living.
Have added Caramel Pecan Cheesecake, Lemon Meringue Pie and Strawberry Banana Muffins to my repetoire. Yes, repetoire. *grin*
Kisses to Mischy and Fio for coming to help! You guys were indispensible! I love baking with friends. =)