Yesterday and today have been wonderful!

Yesterday, a colleague bought me lunch - because he couldn't be around that night for the "surprise" birthday dinner that my other colleagues were organising. And right before dinner, a good friend from London called. While I did expect the dinner, I didn't expect a cake and a gift as well! Given that my colleagues and I are supposed to be rivals, I can truly and honestly say that I really do like each and every one of them, and will be very sad if any of us leave. They then brought me to a bar where they plied me with drinks. I drank a total of four drinks last night - the most I've drank since March this year.

Note to self: Never tell people to get you any drinks other than vodka and tequila.

As you may have guessed, two of those drinks were a shot of tequila and a lemon drop (a shot of vodka with a twist of lemon).

The night was concluded by going to a club and listening to a truly talented drummer and saxophonist and a not too bad DJ. The club was on top of a hill and had a really wonderful view of the city. I got home and slept at around 0315 h - and woke up at 0800 h because my brother called to wish me a happy birthday. Good thing too - since if he hadn't woken me, I might have overslept and missed work!

Yes, I had to work on my birthday. It's not something I was looking forward to, but the meeting was productive at least, and not too bad since it gave me the chance to see my fellow colleagues in a not-too-harried state. And they bought me a cake too. I swear that I've put on all the weight that I've lost since starting work in these two days along!

As if that wasn't enough food, my parents brought me to a restaurant tonight to partake of some truly delicious tapas.

And to top it off, I got flowers :) Thank you, sweetie. I did indeed have a good day.

Exactly a year ago, I was in my university bar getting drunk for the first - and possibly only - time. My society members bought me drinks - an act which I've learnt is the surest way of getting people drunk since it's simply rude to not drink a drink that someone else has paid for. What got to me was the B-52 they bought me - or more accurately, a double B-52, thanks to a trick they were playing on me. I drank the whole thing pretty quickly... and promptly threw up. Not a pretty sight but at least I wasn't sick in public.

Part of why I was drinking that night was because people were buying me drinks. The other, stronger reason was because of something I had learnt earlier in the day which ultimately resulted in my needing a drink. I guess you could tell I was a little drunk that night simply by the fact that I was actually telling people freely which I hadn't been having an absolutely fantastic day.

I haven't felt the need to go back to drowning my sorrows a I did that day... yet. I guess it'll only be a matter of time.

I lost another kg today - so far, it's been a loss of one kilo per month since I've been back. I'm naturally happy, so guess how I celebrated? By eating a bag of nacho chips with salsa - all by myself - in front of the TV.

Ahhh. Life.

While getting my hair cut today, I was staring at the mirror... not just because I was cutting my hair short - I really do prefer long hair - but because I looked so tired. I've changed since my return. I'm shyer than ever in some ways, and yet, when I'm with people - strangers and friends - all they see is this really talkative girl who smiles and laughs a lot and just won't shut up!

I don't know. I'm not as confident as I seem and yes, I do worry as much as I sound. I worry about everything - about things that matter and a lot of things that don't. I'm scared and insecure and often wonder how the hell I got into such good schools and obtained such good grades. Some people might chalk it up to intelligence - I often think I've just been lucky. Maybe it's because that I've been brought up to be humble and modest that I constantly put myself down. Or maybe it's the truth and I'm just so good at hiding this from others that they don't see the real me.

And I'm scared that one day, everyone will see me for the person that I really, truly am. And that when they do, they'll leave.

The truth is: I'll never be good enough. No matter how nice and friendly and smart I am, I'll never be good enough - not by the standards of the people I work with and certainly not by my own standards.

I look in the mirror and I hate the fact that I've got dark circles that won't go away. I hate that my back looks awful due to acne. I hate that I have fat thighs. I hate that I don't know how to be sexy. I hate that I always seem to screw up during important things. I hate that my heart is so soft and weak. I hate that for all my so-called smarts, I just seem to be doing such stupid things - driving people away because of my annoying quirks, speaking before my brain has time to engage... I hate that I tossed my values away for 'love'. I hate that there doesn't seem to be anyone I can talk to about everything I'm going through. I just wish there were some way to change me...

New Version of You
by J.J. Abrams & Andrew Jarecki
- Felicity Season Three Theme

Can you become
Can you become
A new version of you

New wallpaper
New shoe leather
A new way home
I don't rememeber

New version of you
I need a new version of me

New version of you
I need a new version of me

I've often been wondering what is it about London that made my life seem much more interesting than it is now, and while talking to my mother earlier today, I realised what it was.

When I was staying in the university dorm last year, all the people I was staying with were around the same age as me, and more importantly, all 'strangers' to the city in which we would be spending the next year of our lives. Due to this great opportunity to experience the wonders of student life amongst such fun people, I guess that's why last year just seemed much more entertaining. When we weren't sitting around the communal television watching sports or a DVD that had been rented, we'd just be sitting around drinking, talking about our lives - about what we had been doing during the week, about how life was like back home, about our opinions of how life should be for these other people, about the countries we wanted to visit and what we wanted to do with our lives.

While there is a lot more to do in London - and a great deal more to explore in the UK - I finally came to the conclusion that it wasn't so much the great variety of activities available that made life so appealing... more like the variety of people that you got to meet. Every single one of us was different and we were all young and open-minded enough to want to learn about one another.

I guess that's why I don't like my home as much as I used to... though it's a cosmopolitan city by the standards of the region, it doesn't quite match London or New York...

I read somewhere that females in my country suffer because they're not as feminine and demure as our regional counterparts (to me, feminine and demure implies submissive, so by glory, I should hope not!) but at the same time, we're not as liberal and forward as the Westerners.

I empathise with that completely. I've been through that myself without realising it.

Local men supposedly prefer females from the neighbouring countries since they're gentler and presumably less inclined to be argumentative. Foreigners probably expect us to be more adventurous, open-minded and as decadent as the girls they're used to back home since we can be pretty forward and are definitely very Westernised in our attitudes. We don't expect to have to give up our careers in order to start a family, for one thing. We compete with the men during our studies and during job-hunting and especially at work. We don't let men win simply because we're women. We go out on our own and laugh and flirt openly, but deep down, we're still somewhat conservative and traditional. How can we not be, given the environment we're brought up in? Where people are "too tired and stressed" to have sex life? When manuals have to be published telling us how to meet people? When familial honour is such an important concept that you never ever want to do anything that will disgrace your family? When failure is not something tolerated and risk is not something to be taken?

This isn't a rant against how I was brought up. It's just... trying to explain and justify how I can apparently act as forward as I supposedly do and yet still be so shy.

It's been that roller-coaster sort of day. Woke up feeling a little discontent because due to some freak allergic reaction I suffered, I missed out on watching the Harry Potter movie last night even though my friends had bought tickets for me. Also, I had a big presentation yesterday and being the kind of person that I am, I just kept feeling like I messed up in parts where I shouldn't have, and didn't answer questions directly even though I could have. And if you add that to the fact that I didn't step out of the house at all until 8.30pm, you can guess it wasn't a very good day for me... at least initially.

Then my friends asked me out to go bowling. I'm a horrible bowler, so I was just planning to watch, especially since they wanted to go disco-bowling - essentially where instead of normal lighting, there's UV lighting and they play clubbing sort of music. Bowling with luminous balls was pretty interesting even though my score basically sucked - 41 in the first game and 52 in the next. But I was having fun, so yay!

There was this guy there who I think was flirting with me. I had seen him before in university and he knew some people I knew - including the ex. Maybe it's his normal way of talking to girls, but he sort of reminded me of this guy I met a couple of years back who's always especially nice to girls, so I can't quite tell whether they're flirting or if it's just their normal behaviour. Anyway, it was a strange feeling. He's not bad-looking and I was enjoying semi-flirting back, but at the same time, I was missing a certain someone sort of badly. To top it off, I didn't want to ask this guy for his number since I'm tired of innocently asking for people's numbers and having that miscontrued as a sign of interest. In any case, he volunteered it, so great ;)

So there you have it - the last weekend before my birthday wasn't a dud after all!

I just recalled this thought that I had last night just after I returned home from the post-function party.

As was written in the previous entry, I had a little too much to drink. Or more accurately, a little too much to drink considering how little food I ate. I hadn't had much time to grab lunch while I was working at the function from 3 pm to 10 pm and only just managed to grab a kebab at 6.30 pm, which unfortunately left me a bit too full to eat dinner before the food stalls closed. Given that I drank my usual amount of alcohol at the club, that meant that it had a stronger effect than normal.

As was also written in the previous entry, I was also quite lonely and bored, missing all my good friends with whom I could be myself with and not have to worry about how far I can and should go.

I guess the combination of these two factors led to the thought that crossed my mind the moment I stepped back into my own home - that if any of the people I had been with last night had made a move, I would have responded.

The undeniable fact is that I don't find any of the people I was with particularly attractive - except for this one person, but that's a different story all together. And that I would even consider 'responding' to any of their advances is a thought repugnant to me - not because they're not good people in their own right, but because that action would be at odds with my character and personality. I didn't even think about that when I went clubbing with the ex to see Fatboy Slim earlier this year, and even then, I found him very attractive and he had been hitting on me the entire night.

I guess I should watch myself more carefully next time I go clubbing trying to ease the ache the distance between my good friends and I is currently causing.

I am absolutely exhausted... and the upcoming week promises to be an even more challenging and demanding week than the one ahead. It's hard to believe that I went clubbing today - but to a club which caters to people much older than I am - and was so... bored. I wasn't in the mood to club and spending time listening to cheesy music just made me miss my usual clubbing friends just so much more. There was even a point when I was just staring into space, distractedly sipping my whisky and coke at a much too fast pace, despite the fact that a pretty good live band was playing just behind me. And to prove a point, I'm still a little drunk, having some difficulty typing the words correctly the first time round. I suppose that's one of the best times to talk to people and write journal entries...

I have all these new friends which I keep going partying with, and yet I still hold a crucial part of myself back whenever I do club with them. I don't let them see the true extent of how crazy I can get when I dance, and all because... well, I'm still on probation and until my job gets confirmed, I'm really just too scared to let them know any part of the real me since I'm afraid there might be an impact upon that job confirmation. It's like university was the only time I let others see the real me. I wonder what happened to the self-confident girl that I once was. I mean, I know I can dance and that I do look good, but I'm too worried about what people here might think. In London, it was a different issue all together - people do much worse than the things I do, but back home, I'm scared that they'll disapprove of me as a person, thinking me too Western, or worse, too loose or too flirtatious. I'm not like that but I do like to dance and get up close and personal with people - guys and girls. Believe it or not, I don't give a second thought to the person I'm dancing with. To me, it's just dancing. It doesn't commit me to doing anything or to feeling anything for my partner of the moment.

Goodnight.

Why do I want to call you?

And is it actually possible for me to finish a conversation with you - either on the phone or on IM - without feeling like I just did the stupidest thing ever?

I can answer the first, but the second is going to take someone of far greater intellectual ability than I... so on to the first question.

To hear your voice.

Chatting with you on the IM isn't the same. Nor is reading an e-mail, although the latter does rank above the former. There's a part of me that loves the sound of your voice and hearing it brings you that much closer than anything in this world - barring an airplane - can.

As for the second question... I just wish I had someone here who could tell me what the right course of action is. Or someone who can get rid of that stupid annoying tendency of mine to read just about the worst possible meaning into every situation - especially where you're involved.

I just miss all my good friends a lot and it so completely sucks to be lonely in a place which I call home.

Damn it, man!

I just wish you could understand. But that doesn't seem possible now, with everything I say just making it worse. Talking to you, seeing you, seeing anything from you just hurts right now. I can't look at anything connected to you without feeling pain... or rather both pleasure and pain.

And it's like you think I've turned into some hysterical, melodramatic... girl since I returned home when that's not the case at all! I mean, it's so obvious that you've never had to get over anyone before - including me - that you can't f***ing comprehend the fact that I'm hurting and that I haven't a clue how to act now. About how since the moment we met, our relationship has always had a strong element of flirting in it, and that now, I can't flirt with you and still move on!

You miss me - or more accurately, the me that was your girlfriend. And all the good times that we had this year. That this was one of the best years of your life. It's the same for me too and you know that. But right now, it just hurts too bloody much to think about everything that I've lost.

You were - are - the one of the best guys I've ever known. You're funny, intelligent, good-looking, a great kisser and really know how to turn a woman on. It sometimes feel I fell in love with you the moment we met. And that how whenever you weren't around, there was a part of me that always longed for you to be there, and that no matter how much fun I was having, I just wanted to run back to you and let you know what I'd been doing.

BUT YOU JUST DON'T GET THAT! You don't and quite possibly never will. Don't you see why I can't talk to you? Why talking to you just makes it that much harder to move on? Why - to you - it seems like I've turned into a bloody whiny needy ex from hell?

Please understand... I really really need you to understand.

Damn it. I hate to beg. Why does falling in love always make me so damn needy and so damn fragile?

I think a nice nick would be: fraises et crème.

Hmm.

Sighted an e-mail from the ex today. He wrote about how his life has been since we haven't spoken in a long time (partly out of a deliberate decision of mine since I really am trying to get over him although he doesn't know that) and how much he misses our good times. While reading it, I just yelled "How am I supposed to get over you when you won't go??!" without realising that I had said that out loud.

And yes, I had tears in my eyes after reading the e-mail.

And I hate that right now, I would give a lot just to have him nearby.

But as I told a friend today, "Why should he come (to where I am now)? There's nothing here for him." And really. There isn't. Or there shouldn't be.

It's just that sometimes I get this feeling that I'm not going to meet someone like him for a very long time...

I guess I'm just a typical girl. I've been to two weddings in one week, and there, everything looks so sweet and wonderful. Young as I am, I can't help but wish I had some part of that to call my own right now.

And I guess in another way, I've discovered another set of three words which can make (possibly) any girl turn to mush when said by the guy you have the hots for: I want you. Well, probably not all females - just those in the age range still very much affected by hormones!

Do you ever wonder who's the real you?

During the weekends, when I'm just plain ol' me... I look into the mirror and see a mousy girl with a big behind and fat thighs and a geeky pair of specs. I also tend to wear baggy Ts and pants. During the work week, I wear contacts and work attire. Nothing can change my physical defects so I won't repeat those. Despite the fact that the change is superficial - contacts for spectacles, like duh! - I just feel like two different people. Uncertain but somewhat professional during the week, and silly, shy, insecure and unattractive on weekends.

I don't see how there can be any potential for me to be the person I so desperately long to be: self-assured, professional, cool, friendly, smart, sophisticated, elegant, feminine, sassy and sexy.