postcard from the Vatican

A month ago, on 29th December 2014, I mailed two postcards via the Poste Vaticane. They were addressed to my ex and to my parents, but my family’s has yet to arrive, so it should be safe to assume that my ex didn’t receive his either.

Perhaps that’s a sign of divine intervention telling me to just…stop. Stop disturbing him, stop missing him, stop pining over him, stop thinking about him. That in itself is heartbreaking too.

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happy birthday, ex-boyfriend

that’s two birthdays now that I never got to celebrate with you. I still mailed you a present this year, and i hope you know that i mean well. perhaps what I’ve done is selfish – I am aware that even though I want the best for you, the gift, the letter, are also meant to remind you of my existence, everything that you’ve tried so hard to delete, to erase, to forget. I don’t want to be forgotten. I’m a wallpaper at the best of times, and I don’t mind if others forget me, forget about me – you can’t be one of them, not you, whom I have loved so hard.
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pathetic, i know. nothing that an ex wants to read, particularly on his birthday.

I am tired, Beloved, of chafing my heart against
The want of you;
Of squeezing it into little inkdrops,
And posting it.
-from The Letter
by Amy Lowell-

Cats: The Gala Premiere in Singapore

A friend invited me for Cats, the Musical, and to be honest, I wasn’t too keen on it because I used to fall asleep by the third or fourth song whenever I watched the VCD (oh my, how archaic and quaint) as a kid.

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Sometime during the first act, Gerard leaned towards me and whispered, ‘ok. I know why you fell asleep now.’ During the intermission, I overheard a group of women expressing their inability to stay awake and generally wondering just what the heck they were watching. (The producers really took the ‘save the best for the last’ concept quite seriously, with the top hits and more exciting characters and storylines turning up in Act 2, which was so much less sleep-inducing than Act 1. Or perhaps I’m just a cultural barbarian at heart.)

I still remember being shell-shocked, years ago, upon hearing that Cats was inspired by and heavily based upon T.S. Eliot’s Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats (I wonder what a musical version of ‘The Wasteland’ might look or sound like). I mean, no wonder people are bored…Cats is nowhere as inaccessible as The Wasteland, but perhaps people are used to actually having a storyline, instead of this Decameron-esque singing of stories.

One wonders how this became one of the longest running musicals when it leaves the audience feeling dumbfounded. I place my bets on the soundtrack – it’s been nearly two weeks but I still have Mr Mistoffelees stuck in my head. Gerard begs to differ though, saying that the soundtrack is unmemorable for the most part. What is your take on this?

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On a separate and frivolous note: it was the gala premiere that Gerard took me to, my very first one! He told me to dress up, not knowing that I don’t really have clothes for such occasions. But it was a workday evening after all, and many were in fairly glamorous workwear (or perhaps I just never bothered to dress professionally for work..) The people-watching was pretty fun, I’d say.

A Word of Thanks

On returning to work last week, a colleague lamented how her phone was pilfered on the metro in Rome. Later in the day, another colleague bemoaned her daughter’s phone being purloined in Pisa.

Aside from the fact that no thief worthy of the title would take my phone because it’s so shit and that my phone being stolen could be a blessing in disguise because I might be able to claim insurance for a new phone etc., I’ve been pretty blessed on all my trips so far. I’ve travelled solo in three continents and have never been pickpocketed, or put in a mildly threatening situation. I cannot congratulate myself for any street-smarts, because most of the time, the words ‘oblivious’ and sometimes ‘naive’ are what my colleagues use to describe me. I can only thank God, and the many people who pray for my safety and journey mercies.

This is particularly humbling in light of the news regarding the Japanese tourist being gangraped in India – I’ve never been to India, but I have trusted strangers and new friends as she did, and it was/is only God’s grace that kept me safe.

Here’s to many more safe but fun solo travels, and a safer world to live and love in. Happy 2015 to you!