Worn Out

Like all those t-shirts hanging forlornly in my wardrobe, I'm terribly worn out. Had 5-ish hours of sleep and a cup of coffee, which has managed to keep me awake till now. Last night the holy trinity made our big return to TABOO, with 2 other bitches in tow, Lula Lena and Meng's friend Jon aka the male nurse.

MOX was super-crowded with paparazzi waiting to take pictures of our return, which also meant that we were unable to find a decent place to sit for the longest time. I love the smoke-free, chill-out environment of MOX. Perfect place to sit back, relax and unwind, while listening to lounge music and raising your voice so that the person seated on the other end of the table can hear you. However, it must be said that you wait an eternity for your alcohol, which almost always turns out to be limp. Like patron's wrist like drink, I suppose. I had a cosmo (how very very Carrie) and we toasted to Ashlee Simpson, which was completely random but she was the first thing that came to my mind, which should give some idea as to what a tragic state my mind is in.

CHOO WEI REN was late because he took a lift from his friends and then proceeded to EAT at Maxwell. Aiyo. But I don't blame him because a big portion of clubbing expenses are actually on taxi fares. Hell, if I could get a lift, I'd be late too...So there we are standing outside TABOO, waiting for express, carte blanche entry, when Jireh comes speeding down the corridor like some kid suffering from Tourette's, and proceeds to literally JUMP onto Wei Ren and smother him with his scrawny body. Charming.

I froze for a second when I saw his scraggy ass. I was nervous. Old feelings rushed back from my subconscious. Anger. Disappointment. Fear. Confusion. Sadly, feelings that I am still unable to let go of, for this goes far beyond Jireh and deep into my catastrophic past. He's merely the latest proxy for all those damn emotions to resurface and haunt me. But hey, we live and learn. He didn't stay for long, left soon after we entered, and the anxiety faded back into the shadows.

To be perfectly honest, the music at Taboo was, for lack of a better word, utter shit, bar Sexyback, Sweet Dreams, and some kooky remix of Vogue. But throw a little bit of alcohol into the mix (I'm cheap), and I went from bored to semi-delirious in under 10 mintues. What can I say, I accelerate really quickly. So there I was, twirling and shamelessly flailing around the dancefloor, while Lena whored herself out to Meng and Jon like some 2 cent hoe from Patpong. Wei Ren's back was injured (probably because of Jireh pouncing on him earlier) so he didn't dance as much, but we all had loads of fun! My favourite part was when we formed this circle and started behaving like idiots, jumping around and swaying to and fro. At that point, I felt liberated, free from all worry for those fleeting moments. It's like the Love At First Sight video, when you get that very light sensation and feel like you could start flying. WHEE! *flaps arms like a bird*

After a few hours of partying (and one very awkward kiss later), we went outside to sit on the sidewalk like vagabonds in Bangkok. Smoking, sitting in trashy postions, singing bad songs and chit chatting with the owner of the place, our fabulous golden butteferly Adeline. He was lamenting the fact that when he went home, he became a mouldy brown moth, and I realised that the sacrifices one has to make for the sake of one's career really apply across the board, and not just to professions like medicine, law, architecture or accountancy. It seems very hard to make any room for one when you are committed to the other, which is very scary for someone like me who has very big career ambitions but also yearns for an active social life and that special someone to come home to at the end of a long day.

Met the guys at Cali today for what can only be described as a half-hearted work-out. We were discussing CHOO'S lofty standards, and how most guys in Singapore would hopelessly fail to attain them. And when they inevitably did not succeed, he would say 'BYEBYE' and push them back to the holes they crawled out from. Which brings me to a question. When searching for that special someone, should we always bat within our league? My answer would be yes, unless someone higher up feels charitable enough to entertain you. Thing is, there are so many considerations nowadays that the picture gets distorted. Firstly (and most importantly), we have to consider looks. First impressions count. I would lump grooming and dress sense into this, because they determine how we ultimately appear to others. Then comes the communication factor. Someone may look good, but if he opens his mouth and all that comes out are mangled fragments of English, then that is a huge turn-off. In such a situation, one is entitled to fuck/or get fucked by said individual before giving him the boot. I would include interests and preferences in this category, because these do help to determine how well a couple can communicate. Someone who listens to S.H.E or 5566 is unlikely to click with one who prefers Madonna and Janet. Thirdy, we cannot forget social background. It's not as important at our age (20 years YOUNG), but when you do grow up, having a social grand canyon doesn't exactly help a relatioship to flourish. This may or may not be related to the second consideration. As a general rule of the thumb, someone who speaks good English is more likely to be successful than someone who can't to save his life, but this is not a guarantee. Last (and least), character. This is the chance for those in the lower leagues of other categories to try and play catch-up, but for some reason it doesn't seem to carry as much weight in the initial stages of the relationship. If you don't score well in the first 3 categories, Prince Charming isn't going to have the patience to wait for your character to shine through. And that is very sad because as a relationship progresses, everything else takes a back seat to character.

So that's my analysis. I do feel that I've given an accurate (tho' stereotypical) account of the dynamics in the gay dating scene. Feel free do disagree.

In decidedly more trashy news, BRITNEY is on the cover of Q magazine's special edition celebrating 20 Pop icons. She's one of only 5 female singers, along with Madonna, Kate Bush, Beyonce o_O, and Dido o_O o_O to make the list. Each icon has their own cover, which means fanatics have 20 covers to collect (I seriously doubt anyone would - someone who wants the Peter Townshend cover isn't likely to want Britney, and vice-versa). This surely is testament to Queen B's status as THE pop culture icon of her generation (Christina, Jessica, N'sync, BSB etc etc). Don't ask me what Beyonce and her damn chinchilla coat or boring, bland Dido are doing on the list. Here are the pics!

I hafta say, among all the covers, B-girl's is the most interesting visually. The rest of them mostly look like obituaries, while Madonna's pose is same ol' same ol' and Beyonce used one of her loony B'day pictures.
Britney ain't got no time for 'em haters, she don't giveafuck!

It really is amazing how my love for Ms Spears can turn me into such an idiot sometimes.
Beautiful!

I need to get laid.