our love story
février 19, 2009, 21:23
Filed under: Agent of Amour, gossip, I like

I woke up bright and sprightly and completely itchless thanks to the anti-histamine pills I took. Thank you all for your advice and your company in some way or other whether it is on my fb wall, msn or just happy gossip that keeps me occupied and unitchy! Seeing how the skies are a lovely carolina blue outside complete  with a sinfully delicious dose of chick -fil-a has cheered me up exceedingly, I shall blog about my long overdued post of how Patrick and I met.

Brace yourselves for a bit of a scrolljob 🙂

Before Patrick, I never really endeavored to commit in relationships nor was approved to have any by my parents who insisted that I focus my attention parameter on my education. Needless to say, most were superfluous flings and insecure flirtations perhaps a couple of boyfriends scattered around without any long term commitment. At the risk of bragging, my track record includes 2 jewish law students one from Harvard and the other from Wash U, a hotass Japanese guy from Kyoto University law school and perhaps less impressively so, a pastor’s son.

Believe it or not there was no deliberately attempt at dating law guys, au contraire as with most trivialities in life I didn’t give half a rat’s ass. I immensely enjoyed our intellectual conversations and the company was most refreshing as was the social networkng between our peers but it was difficult for two students to have a long distance relationship. Law students with wealthy yakuza/jewish parents or not, one thing remained. They had their school schedules and I had mine, regretfully these clashed and once seeing each other became a herculean task tempers flared and patience were lost, tears were shed and we had to break it off.

The world was too big to sustain our appetite for each other.

Curiously in the fall of 2005, I met Patrick on myspace a social networking site akin to facebook. Not unlike now I was just as obsessed with embellishing my profile and checking out the whos and whats online. Funny enough I decided to check out the NUS network to see if I knew anyone on it to add to my growing friend’s list. See. Inconsequential rubbish like that irk me. Like many impressionable women ( and girls ) out there, I found a random girl’s profile and clicked on it only because I thought she was hot.  So scrolling through her profile I saw a guy on her top 10 friend’s list thingy and hey ho he is hot!  Shrugging, I clicked on his profile and sad to my utmost disgust that he was a sailor. And an old one at that!

I’ve always had bad impressions of military men; their reputation of sleeping with women at the ports they pull into or tall tales of them having illegitimate kids running around they dont know of reinforced by plays like Miss Saigon. As a student of political science specializing in military studies in the far east I was only too aware of young, hot blooded ( handsome nonetheless)  marines running amok in Okinawa, murdering the innocent populace and raping their female offspring. NOT the most flattering picture of them huh. Obviously there was always the exception of the rule but its hard to take your chances when faced with the challenge of pessimism and a paranoid media.

Suffice to say, I never mustered up enough courage to talk to any just because I am reserved when talking to strange men nevermind rowdy sailors, intimidating enough with their brashness and big group of friends. I’ve always secretly thought that I am somewhat of a social inept, awkward at social gathering and too impatient for small talk. To be fair, I did do a fair bit of oggling and girlish giggling with my girlfriends but rarely did we try to spark anything. I was also tired of this long distance bs and was not about to begin another.

In my voyeuristic exploit I also saw that he lived in texas. As few of you may know , my college football allegiance belong to the USC Trojans. Forever and always. That year was a fluke win for the Longhorns who won the Trojans at the very last second damning me to the pits of football angst for the next couple of days. I hated Texas. And I still harbor a deep suspicion of the denizens of the lone star state that teeters on the border of dislike most days. Anyway I also saw that he was a smoker. I’ve sworn never to date anyone to smoke because I hate the smell of cigarettes to the fricking core. My momma told me once to never harbor such strong dislikes because fate will play a mean trick on you and you will fall in love with a man like that. Yep that came true although he later quit for me.

In spite of myself he was cute so I chatted him up and we started talking all through winter and Spring. This was about the same time as my application for the work and travel program. When I got selected to participate I chose to work at Dulles airport in Virginia, a cheerful coincidence that Pat’s house is about an hour’s commute from. Thus began our courtship every weekend I’d stay at his place and the poor devil would drive a total of 2 hours on thursdays and sunday nights. Our fletching love took flight literally with me flying to and fro Singapore, Maryland every time there was some sort of break be it december for a month, march for a week, summer, or 2 weeks in fall. We’ve spent a whopping 15 grand on air tickets so far, the cost of our mini cooper.

Crazy.

But it had to be this way. Surely there are couples out there who elope for more noble reasons but we are not all alike for our circumstances and desires differ greatly. Ambitiously, I felt I could ride it out and I was sure our relationship was sturdy enough to see through this. I took a chance on my relationship but it was neither flippant nor callous.I did not want to short change ourselves or my parents by running away from home leaving a trail of angry tears, broken hearts and sheer disappointment.

Neither did I want them to blame my prospective husband for my actions that I had full prerogative over. Thankfully he was as supportive and adamant about me staying in college , so we resolve that I would complete my education before anything. I refuse to let all that I’ve worked hard for go to waste and I loved what I was doing in school, I enjoyed the mental stimulation of our discussions,  the university scholars program also provided ample opportunities that I did not want to miss out on.

For sure there were moments I was ready to fling it all behind and catch the next plane out to Baltimore and get married. But I wanted to start off our marriage right with the blessing of my parents, and also earn my degree that I had invested much time and money into. Indeed the parentals were quite unhappy that I was engaged to a sailor of all things, and white and so much older although they were supportive enough to come for the wedding. Happily my mom and dad eventually realized this chinese new year how much Patrick truly cares for me.

Then his iraq deployment came and I was hysterical for about 3 hours in the USP lounge room surrounded by amazing friends who talked me out of my self pity. My ISM professor, Matthias also helped a lot in talking sense in me bless his heart. So I got back on my feet and trooped on even though the stress was unbelievable. It was the stress of doing 6 modules, one of them a mini thesis of 6,000 words and another a language module ( french ) while planning a wedding overseas. I was also the stage manager for our usp drama production, saving grace and also a participant of the EU-ASEAN conference, and aside from all that I also planned a short trip to Siem Reap, Cambodia with my Norwegian friend ( hello Tanya! ).

My final semester came and went, then for 3 weeks we had to embark on our conference to Jakarta, Bangkok, Brussels and then to Paris. Incredibly tiring made even more exasperating but the lack of communication because for some reason the european network didnt hold up long distance well enough ( their workers are perpetually on strike maybe thats why) . Of course I was still charged for the shitty phone calls from Pat that will hang up most unpleasantly in the middle of a conversation. The bill came up to a whopping $900 half of which was forked out from my dad after waging a tirade at a very repentant me, and the other was paid by Patrick.

Anyway all this while I’ve been liasing with my mother in law, Patty in Portland who did a lot of the wedding planning and spent a lot of money on our one day celebratory affair. The stress of planning a wedding was unlike anything because this is my special day and like most, if not all hope to do this once and for all. Of course if we didnt have a wedding, my stress load would be severely ridden but Pat and I wanted a wedding even though I often talk about marriage being an institution ( which it is! ). We felt that after all the shit we’ve been through we deserve one other , and also to thank everyone who has been so supportive and as a signal of how much we value the commitment of marriage, a sacred promise to ourselves.

Thankfully everything fell into place when I got to Portland, it helped that Patty is illustrious and quite diligent in her appointments and organization skills. We were able to finalize everything down to the minute details of table decorations in about the 3 weeks I was in Portland before flying over to Baltimore in the advent of my fiance’s return from Iraq.

Its been a hell of a 3 years since Pat and I met but I would not trade any moment of it for an alternative. Except for the a smattering of fights and quarrels, we have been happy, relishing the moments of muted joys in our domestic idle. Needless to say I miss my friends and family in Singapore more than I can ever say because these people were there in the toughest of times and I am not one to forget my loyalties and familial allegiances. Sadly, our time in Maryland is whittling by the days. In pursuit for military classes he leaves for florida in about 1 and a half weeks. Faced with the emptiness of a house that was our lives intertwined from the moment we started us and as the hollowness of the house echoes deep into my night I shall be desolate, and lonelier so in my new bed of a futon.

But a new beginning in Japan beckons with the prospect of a better life ahead so I will take heart.

Its easy to read all this like a novel but to actually be living it or grappling with the sheer temerity of possibly messing up your wedding and wondering if things will turn out good is another thing altogether. Id like to quote Philip Roth aptly on that:

« terror of the unforeseen is what the science of history hides, turning a disaster into an epic ».

I love you, Patrick.




Betty crocker in the making
décembre 9, 2008, 07:23
Filed under: Agent of Amour, Life, Suburbia America

Here’s the caramel I helped mom make yesterday; I even cut and wrapped them all by myself this afternoon!

And the fudge :

In our usual emails, I told my parents what we did this past weekend and this is what my dear ol’ dad said:

« Good that you contribute to the family.When you are back for CNY, perhaps you could put your cookie making and decorating skills to use to help mama make pineapple tarts. Then you can make some for Pat anytime when you are back in the US. If you are good may be can sell them during the Christmas and thanks giving seasons. Can make quite a tidy sum of money. 🙂  « 

hur hur.
I told him that I’d be more than happy to help my mom with the pineapple tarts this cny because Patrick loves them. One major reason why I never really helped with the baking was because NUS professors usually give a shit ton of homework or tests after cny. They clearly want us to study over our break, which is horrbly unfair because most of them are angmohs who take the time off to visit some other country in the proximity and us chinese kids have to slave over homework/tests after a longass day of visiting family. This, my friend is cultural insensitivy. All the white man’s fault I tell ya 😀


bittersweet
décembre 3, 2008, 22:19
Filed under: Agent of Amour, Life, Suburbia America, Thoughts

After a huge fuss and the negation of one flight ticket back to Singapore later, I am in Portland to spend pre-Christmas with my in laws and Christmas with said family and Patrick. At first I thought I could bravely return and be strong in the face of dissolution and with Patrick’s encouragement I really thought I could do it. Finally my bags were all packed but the night before my flight I was sleepless and miserable so when I woke up at 4am for my flight two hours later, I made up my mind I was going to stay. We went back to bed and I woke up at noon, guilty but glad I was staying. But after Patrick laid out the stakes infront of me once again and his eyes shone with disapproval, my heart weighed heavy against my conscience as I picked up the phone and rescheduled my flight to portland for 2pm. I was fine all the way from lunch to when I got to Atlanta for my transit, after an hour delay due to shitty weather and a horrifying flight later with lots of tears shed in miserable claustrophobia pushing me over the edge of my sanity, I bravely decided that it would be better if I spent Christmas with Patrick here. So its half a ticket gone but I like to think that my angst would have been better curbed than to ruin the festive mood of the people I love. It would have been better if I stayed in Maryland, if Patrick in his guilt, hadn’t pursuaded me to buy that ticket to portland so early in dec so I could’ve had been with him in maryland but the deed is done and there is no going back to that. Still, I am comforted by Patrick’s impending arrival a little after 2 weeks later on the 19th. Parting has only been distressing for me but this time around, it was impossibly heartwrenching and while it has certainly been a hard decision, I am happy for the most part that I won’t be away from Patrick for too long. It is bittersweet though because believe it or not, in spite of all my angst and dislike for the Singaporean climate, I was looking forward to bead shopping, lychee martini ice cream at the quaint little shop corner in Arab street, warm tales of travel reminiscing with the lady boss there, cosy tête a tête with the girls over margaritas by the river, the light tinkling of the windchime at home in the silence of midnight like fairies tiptoeing across glaciers…. Oh be still my fluttering heart. But I only have to remember how miserable I am when Im not doing any of those things, and I am at peace with my decision.

Now we’re waiting to hear back from his military command about whether he will be assigned a hotel in florida for school so I can stay with him. Otherwise I certainly will fly back to Singapore or just stay there after cny. Sigh. I just want to turn the speed dial of time travel to start our muted joys of work routine in our lives, in Japan.



For better things to come..
septembre 18, 2008, 04:49
Filed under: Agent of Amour, Thoughts, wedding

If you’re wondering I removed the previous entry because the issue was resolved graciously with much smiles and laughter among everyone. As this week comes to an end, the leaves start to change colors and autumn beckons with falling temperatures and shedding trees. My wedding preparation is almost done, most of everything has been paid for — the church, the reception hall, the wedding dress, the flowers.. The tuxedos have been picked out, and the boys will look so sharp in their suits. Thinking back to last week when I saw the ensemble of the tuxedos sends a tingle own my spine in anticipation. I shan’t elaborate more than to say that I will walk down the aisle with Patrick in his Calvin Klein with a silver vest inside matching tie and the boys in a similar tux with a claret vest and matching patterned tie to match the girls dressed in claret halters. Delicious.

There’s something nostalgic about Fall. The leaves start to fall while the nights grow colder and winter approaches. Its like the earth is mourning the end of summer. Things come a full circle. And how fitting that Patrick should fly home from Iraq and that the box turtle we found yesterday should have her owner calling in today, and my wedding preparation will finish tomorrow after our last visit to the florist. And as if to illuminate everything in shades of autumn, the moon tonight was bleeding red. Its hypnotic beauty was frightening and maybe it was the chill of approaching fall but I found myself shivering a little. There’s just something poetic about fall, something pensive that makes me yearn for memories of the summer but also look forward to warmth of sitting infront of the fireplace every winter with Patrick.

This year, as man and wife.



Life is beautiful.
septembre 9, 2008, 06:08
Filed under: Agent of Amour, Life, Suburbia America, Thoughts, travels, wedding

Any previously existing wedding jitters have been replaced by a flurry of excitement waiting to explode into colorful confetti. Everything is finally coming together; the 2 tier cake lemon chiffon and coffee flavored in each respective tier crowned off with a dash of dark pink peonies has been chosen, the Vera Wang fitted and sent for alterations, the flowers picked to preen bouquets, the silver Enzo Angiolinis purchased, the wedding stationary inspected, the invitations mailed out, the church paid for… The pieces of a puzzle will fit together to form a stunning picture in 6 weeks. I can’t wait to see Patrick in a little over a week and more than anything else, I desperately can’t wait for our lives to finally meld together. Every time I picture our wedding, a bubble of excitement rises because this is all a secret to Patrick who will enjoy the intricacies of our wedding affair. Tonight, I lie on my bed and brushing aside the cliché of it all I want to shout my happiness from our rooftop into the darkest night. In Portland during the past week of amazing weather, my heart sings merrily below the clear blue skies everyday and I feel invincible like never before.



why asian girls like white guys
juin 16, 2008, 16:22
Filed under: Agent of Amour

( to be honest, my preference has now shifted from white men whom I deem sketchy to Asian-American males who have the charm and muscular physique of their white counterparts, complemented perfectly with a pithy understanding on what it is to be azn. Heaven forbid, the accent is also a killer! Patrick, I’ve always thought, is an asian stuck in a white males’ body because he is acutely filial, loves to play computer games, is an anime/manga geek, loves very spicy asian food, enjoys eating rice indeed more than i do, has fish sauce ,oyster sauce, sriracha chilli sauce , bak choi in his refrigerator and LOVES chinese new year. He is the man of my dreams and the best white male any culturally aware asian chick could possibly ask for! )

I couldn’t resist the urge to put this on my blog, stolen from Stuff Asian People Like :

Asian chicks dig white guys. Somewhere in the midst of the pseudo-nationalistic indoctrination our well-meaning parents inflict upon us, we ladies stop paying attention and allow tall(er), skinny, white boy engineers to steal our hearts.

What’s up with the race treason? One theory: They love us. Asian fetish, yellow fever. Whatever you call it, there’s plenty of literature out there telling white men that we slant-eyed princesses are the exotic, submissive, and hypersexualized women of their dreams.

http://www.stanford.edu/~nancytpn/storage/kristin_kreuk.jpgThis post, however, is not about why white guys live in a delusional fantasy world. It’s a dissertation on why, despite the tawdry roots of our suitors’ affection, we just eat it up. One economist says it’s because Asian women are the least discriminatory female demographic (second-to-last paragraph)—that “the white man-Asian woman pairing was the most common form of interracial dating … because of the women’s neutrality, not the men’s pronounced preference.”

Uh, ok. Whatever. What about our strict fathers and sheltered childhoods? Plus, we all saw how well that John Lennon/Yoko Ono thing worked out. And we can’t resist everything white men have to offer—and no, I’m not talking about that. White men indulge our deepest PDA-fantasies; they hold our hands, they aren’t terribly cerebral about their emotions, and they will—heaven forbid—tell their parents that we’re actually dating. Asian parents don’t do any of that gross hand-holding, making-out stuff. https://i0.wp.com/star-ecentral.com/archives/2006/9/22/movies/f_03robbhood.jpgAsian boys learned the lesson; girls, not so much.

Lastly, if you think this is all a pile of BS, we all can agree on one tangible reason the Asian/white pairing works so well. God knows we all just want highly attractive children, and halfie babies are so damn cute.



the wedding nazi
juin 16, 2008, 10:43
Filed under: Agent of Amour, Life

I am the wedding nazi, here me rawr.

WOW I feel accomplished. Yesterday, after shopping online we went out for father’s day with the family to Herbs n Spices which is this really good indian restaurant at upper thomson. The tandoori chicken was so tender and fresh, the fishhead curry delicious and not too spicy, and their signature vegetable thingey ( can’t remember the name ) made me want to go back for more. My parents think that I should bring Patrick there to dine when he next visits and I absolutely concur. So after dinner, I spent about 7 hours slaving at my Toshiba, at the mercy of annoying CSS, HTML, web interface of the like and photoshop to create the long overdued wedding blog. I literally went to bed at 5am with a sore back from lousy posture hunched over the laptop.. and woke up at 11am remembering that I had forgotten the night before to ask my MIL to give me the measurements of the flowergirl. So 30 mins of phonecall after, I went back to updating my wedding blog with all the rest of the information and pictures. This evening I finally printed out the « will you be my bridesmaid » cards and they are now ready for mailing. Just gotta get the addresses and the envelops sorted out. So it looks like we’re spending considerably lesser on the wedding, which means only one thing :

MORE MONEY FOR US!!

( in case Patrick’s dad wants us to pay him back )

Yeah I know I sound really cheap but just think of the many many shoes and purses and dresses I can buy with money otherwise spent on other people? We’ve decided to scrap the banquet/ luncheon which would’ve cost us at least another 15,000 USD . That’s a lot of fucking money if you ask me and I can go tour europe twice over with that kinda money, or buy all the damn dresses I want from warehouse and that chanel bag Ive been hankering for. I love getting a good bargain, but I love spending on myself more. Let’s face it, we’re all selfish.

So. With some luck perhaps I can persuade Patrick to buy me the chanel 2.55 hehe :))

I guess all I needed was another vacation to jolt me out of my Eurotrip woes huh! To think that good ol’malaysia did the trick is quite impressive since I never thought highly of our neighbor as an « overseas » destination. I kinda feel like taking another vacation, maybe somewhere around the region like.. Vietnam in july perhaps?? Any takers? :))



UTC/GMT +2 hours
juin 5, 2008, 07:14
Filed under: Agent of Amour

The extent of my obsession includes mandated french ‘homework’ and using my claire fontaine notepad to write popular french expressions. Aside from that, I also go to bed at 5am singapore time ( 11pm CEST ) and wake up at 1pm ( 7 am CEST ) because I can and because I like staying up late when everyone at home is sleeping and nobody is up to annoy me.

But wait, it gets better as you will see by my vista sidebar.



flounder afar
janvier 10, 2008, 03:25
Filed under: Agent of Amour

This feels terribly odd.

I have been hanging out alone the entire day today in my own home, without Patrick. There is the expectancy — the false hope, to await him from wherever he may have one to. To Lowe’s, to Shoppers, to Wa-Wa, to Papa John’s for some pizza, upstairs watching TV.. Certainly not far away and certainly not in North Carolina. My loneliness echoes within these 4 walls, bouncing to and fro back to me and this silence is such an oddity. Above, I hear the mad thundering of Frank hurling himself around in the main living room upstairs in a fey fit of playfulness. I hear the boys talking above the TV din; the dryer spins with the occasional tinkling of metal zippers against hot walls..

I saw him off at the airport this blustery wednesday morning, at 5.36 am. That precise moment of parting, I wiped my eyes and stared into concerned, lightning blue eyes and the pain magnified sevenfold. From the car, I watched The One walk away towards the lighted areas of airline signs, and tired attendants. After a while, my watery eyes lost him to the crowd of other people checking in.

This feels so wrong.

The little things.. Like being on the cold, leather couch all by myself. The artificial neatness of our living room, the clinical cleanliness of our coffee table.. I felt this horribly heavy, dense feeling of melancholy settle in my heart so that the only way I could go on with life was to do laundry, vacuum, clean up, talk to Limey, look at our pictures on facebook, listen to our songs, smell his cologne, take a shower alone and get dressed alone. I did a fair bit of growing up today, although I’m quite sure I’ll revert to the dependent lovelorn child when he’s around.

Tomorrow I leave for Portland. His parents’ place have always had a calming effect on me, my sleep in his sister’s room before she moved out have always been deep and entirely enjoyable. I’ve always enjoyed secret rendezvous to his room at night when I think nobody’s watching ( we sleep in separate bedrooms there, christians.. duh ) . Tomorrow, my feet might take me to his room again to grasp at a spectrum of yesterday’s memory, because it seems pain will help me get over myself.

I am counting down the days, months to being with you again my one true love.



blue eyes blue
janvier 9, 2008, 19:01
Filed under: Agent of Amour

I remember that night, we sat at a crappy bar in the middle of no where. Fetid cigarette smoke swirled around us, rock n roll blasted loudly from the jukebox behind as he held my hands and we laughed about something. Then Eric Clapton came on, and he started serenading. I remember that moment sharply, because it was the one song that came on that night which I knew the lyrics to. We sang along, our hearts in sync, lives in unison and voices melting. I felt my eyes threatening to water so I bit my lip and watched him.

Parting has never been easier despite the frequent flights, and the longest distance. Soon, I’ll slide into the monotony of life back in singapore and with an interest in school, a quick turn of business maybe things will get better. 2007 has been crappy but on hindsight, I got to see him more than I did in 2006 and probably more than I ever will this year. With the damned deployment and the suspicion that the military may withdraw the precious promise of leave this summer, or worse extend this horrible term. I cross my fingers and wait, afraid to hope and so anxious to be proven wrong of my pessimism.

So I sit here, surrounded by fresh laundry and the ghost of yesterday memories. I sit here, listening to all our songs and wishing you were still here. I hope with all my broken heart, that this is the last time we ever have to part like this.

I love you Patrick, come back safely to me. I’ll be waiting.