On too many Christmas, new years and other nights out, I wondered if I would run into her. Last night, we were at a Christmas eve party together with her posse. It didn't cross my mind that she would show up until her name was mentioned in pre-drinks. Her ways of drawing crowds and turning heads, and the sophistication that came with maturity left me in awe. We’re no longer seventeen.
Standing in front of the club, behind the barricades for crowd control, and in between drags of smoke, I spotted her and her man. We exchanged a hug and the generic “haven’t seen you for awhile!” He and I both recognized each other and extended a handshake as though we are old acquaintance even though we hardly spoke in the past. Memories came back- the theatre show, the cruise, the drunken older woman touching me, her clinging on to me while drunk and in five inches of heels that got him coming over to ask about me, which he has probably forgotten by now.
As soon as we sat, he got me a drink and we got talking about Hong Kong, the wealth gap, Cambodia and drugs. It’s hardly a typical conversation, but it seemed to be the right thing at the time. We chatted for so long that at some point I wondered if she was cringing at the sight of that. I would, if I were her.
Her extravagance, and her girlfriends’, aren’t new to me. It’s all about handbags, shoes and party clothes – a brand new Hermes getting scratched, and the smell of a new Gucci handbag. Times like that I am glad that their social comparison does not apply to me, and I am not judged by what I wear and what I carry. But at the same time, despite being properly dressed, the fact that I was obviously gay got me in trouble at the door initially. While I was with the rest of the girls, I was stopped until the door bitch saw my friends talking to me. Gays aren’t welcome in parties like that. It’s just how it is in LKF and clubs in the West End.
I never regretted a moment of unhappiness or even agony that I brought upon myself because of her. To me, she stands for the world that I would have belonged if I were straight. It is a lifestyle that I can afford to live, if I am willing to spend my family's money like they do, with no hesitation. She stands for the lifestyle of rich kids, glamour and endless parties.
After all these years, I don’t really know her. I just know that I hold onto moments of encounters even if they killed, and moments when she couldn’t hide how she felt - the sight of those elevated me. She was the girl who got drunk and honest when she turned 18. She was the one who left me baffled, dazzled and confused for many years. She is the one who now, I think, has found the one, and I think she has found the right one.
26/12/2010
05/12/2010
The Sunday wakeup call
This morning felt like one of the many worst days of my life. I woke up to a call from a lawyer asking if he offended me yesterday when I was writing up a case that he filed. He said that he was offended by the fact that someone else was quote about his client's case, and that he had been receiving calls from his friends asking if he was responsible for the case or the guy I quoted.
I apologised, admitted that it was a lapse of judgement, and offered to remedy the situation. If it was other subject of the story, I probably wouldn't care so much. But this felt like I was burning bridges, and not just sources.
It was a headline story. There's no escape from scrutiny.
I suspect that most readers, especially non-lawyers, wouldn't even notice anything wrong with it. It is a decent story. All it needed was substituting that guy's quote with his. But words get around, especially in small communities like the journalists' one or the lawyers' one. My boss told me two weeks ago that it's about quality. Write a story that people remember you for. This feels like one of those stories, and not in a good way.
For the past year, I've been so cautious to the point that journalists would probably see me as meek, and not daring enough.
If I search hard enough for an excuse, it's that when I called the lawyer yesterday, he said nothing that I could possibly quote and he didn't even seem to explain his point of view other than referring me to the court documents. On top of that, the editor's comments somehow influenced how I viewed the whole thing.
I asked him if he thought it'd be okay that I quote the third party lawyer, and he said as long as he is okay with it then it's fine. Little did I think how not okay the lawyer taking charge of the case would be.
In hindsight, I would have called the now-offended lawyer a second time after I heard the quotable comments made by the irrelevant lawyer. But it's too late now.
Recently, I've been hearing about how particular journalists I know piss some people off. If I write something that I believe in, I really don't mind if it pisses people off. But this time, I had no intention to provoke but that's what happened.
This too shall pass, like everything else. But it's a blow to my confidence.
I apologised, admitted that it was a lapse of judgement, and offered to remedy the situation. If it was other subject of the story, I probably wouldn't care so much. But this felt like I was burning bridges, and not just sources.
It was a headline story. There's no escape from scrutiny.
I suspect that most readers, especially non-lawyers, wouldn't even notice anything wrong with it. It is a decent story. All it needed was substituting that guy's quote with his. But words get around, especially in small communities like the journalists' one or the lawyers' one. My boss told me two weeks ago that it's about quality. Write a story that people remember you for. This feels like one of those stories, and not in a good way.
For the past year, I've been so cautious to the point that journalists would probably see me as meek, and not daring enough.
If I search hard enough for an excuse, it's that when I called the lawyer yesterday, he said nothing that I could possibly quote and he didn't even seem to explain his point of view other than referring me to the court documents. On top of that, the editor's comments somehow influenced how I viewed the whole thing.
I asked him if he thought it'd be okay that I quote the third party lawyer, and he said as long as he is okay with it then it's fine. Little did I think how not okay the lawyer taking charge of the case would be.
In hindsight, I would have called the now-offended lawyer a second time after I heard the quotable comments made by the irrelevant lawyer. But it's too late now.
Recently, I've been hearing about how particular journalists I know piss some people off. If I write something that I believe in, I really don't mind if it pisses people off. But this time, I had no intention to provoke but that's what happened.
This too shall pass, like everything else. But it's a blow to my confidence.
27/10/2010
The Singaporean experience
I had an interesting night tonight. It was the last session of five days of class in Singapore, and my last night in the city. The last couple of days have been a bit hectic in terms of trying to see as much of the city as I can while trying to get my assignment done on top of going to class. We had a group presentation tonight, which was not exactly stressful but still, it was a presentation, and I haven't done that for 2-3 years. At some point, I was trying very hard not to laugh because out of the 20 or so people were speaking, I was among the 3 who speaks proper English. The rest of them, no offence, spoke Singlish, Malay English or Indian English, and I really wasn't used to hearing them. I am not making fun of them but it was interesting, and almost comical because it's so foreign in a class situation.
As the night progressed, the few of us students ended up in a bar with our lecturer and other lecturers/ counsellors. Hanging out with a bunch of Aussies inevitably means the question of "when are you coming back?" popped up. I gave an honest answer filled with uncertainties and a jaded sense of hope. What really got to me is that she said "You have a purpose. I won't tell you what it is." And he said: "Come to Melbourne" so that I can meet our Mongolian colleague. Apart from friends I made in Mongolia, I only know one or two people who have stepped foot in that country, and he just has to be a trainer for the organisation I worked for!
She spoke of social justice, and listed out my options and choices, along with the 3-passport situation. In a weird way, I pick up all the skills that they are using when they speak because they taught me those skills. This leads to the question of authenticity. Can you merely master the skills and come across as being 100 percent genuine if it is just a matter of skills, which encompasses everything from the choices of words to facial expression and body language? Being a cynic about everything, I have some reservations. But one thing I can't deny is the sense of hope and encouragement that they give.
From what she told me about her background, it is particularly real because the confusion that she went through with her career choices, the title attached to her name, which, in a competitive profession, can be given unrealistic weight.
These people are somewhere between strangers and mentors. Whether it's their skills, experience, or the fact that they are drawn into this profession because of compassion or social justice, it doesn't really matter. Sometimes, we just need someone like them to point us in the right direction. It's all about soul searching.
As the night progressed, the few of us students ended up in a bar with our lecturer and other lecturers/ counsellors. Hanging out with a bunch of Aussies inevitably means the question of "when are you coming back?" popped up. I gave an honest answer filled with uncertainties and a jaded sense of hope. What really got to me is that she said "You have a purpose. I won't tell you what it is." And he said: "Come to Melbourne" so that I can meet our Mongolian colleague. Apart from friends I made in Mongolia, I only know one or two people who have stepped foot in that country, and he just has to be a trainer for the organisation I worked for!
She spoke of social justice, and listed out my options and choices, along with the 3-passport situation. In a weird way, I pick up all the skills that they are using when they speak because they taught me those skills. This leads to the question of authenticity. Can you merely master the skills and come across as being 100 percent genuine if it is just a matter of skills, which encompasses everything from the choices of words to facial expression and body language? Being a cynic about everything, I have some reservations. But one thing I can't deny is the sense of hope and encouragement that they give.
From what she told me about her background, it is particularly real because the confusion that she went through with her career choices, the title attached to her name, which, in a competitive profession, can be given unrealistic weight.
These people are somewhere between strangers and mentors. Whether it's their skills, experience, or the fact that they are drawn into this profession because of compassion or social justice, it doesn't really matter. Sometimes, we just need someone like them to point us in the right direction. It's all about soul searching.
24/10/2010
HK suffocates me. The collectivist culture. Money and status. Feeling controlled, in disguise of concern.
I remember why I left one place after the other, for different reasons. Now I see another reason to leave, but it doesn't do my career any good if I just pick up and go. In a perfect world, I would be somewhere I want to be, and doing something I want to do.
This maladjustment is ridiculous, but it has been so real for the past year. At times, when I have something going for me, it didn't feel so bad. But most of the times, even pursuing something that I am interested in is such a drag.
What is more ridiculous is the issue of parental control, or concern, or hope. I'm way too old to be rebelling, but the moment I moved back under their roof, there is the pressure of having to please them. I refuse to budge and it gets on my nerves when they ask me what I'm doing and where I am. I like living alone and I don't like to have to report to anyone about my whereabouts. Yes they want the best for me, and most of the time they just let it be.
No one seems to understand how this move has been affecting me. People only move back because of their family, or because of the advantage of low taxation or because they are part of the elite, who live very comfortably in this city of extreme wealth gap. None of these concerns me, and I don't know why I am here.
I remember why I left one place after the other, for different reasons. Now I see another reason to leave, but it doesn't do my career any good if I just pick up and go. In a perfect world, I would be somewhere I want to be, and doing something I want to do.
This maladjustment is ridiculous, but it has been so real for the past year. At times, when I have something going for me, it didn't feel so bad. But most of the times, even pursuing something that I am interested in is such a drag.
What is more ridiculous is the issue of parental control, or concern, or hope. I'm way too old to be rebelling, but the moment I moved back under their roof, there is the pressure of having to please them. I refuse to budge and it gets on my nerves when they ask me what I'm doing and where I am. I like living alone and I don't like to have to report to anyone about my whereabouts. Yes they want the best for me, and most of the time they just let it be.
No one seems to understand how this move has been affecting me. People only move back because of their family, or because of the advantage of low taxation or because they are part of the elite, who live very comfortably in this city of extreme wealth gap. None of these concerns me, and I don't know why I am here.
23/08/2010
Manila hostage
Some 10 hours later.7 dead.
I first heard of the hostage situation while I was still in court listening to relatively trivial cases. I didn't share the degree of shock felt by people around me. Hostage situations happen all the time. The fact that the tour group held hostage in manila was from hong kong made no difference to me.
Hours later, I was back in the office. It felt like a newsroom, more than ever. Colleagues gathered around the numerous televisions all showing the situation live. Just about everyone held their breath seeing the bus driver dashed out and screamed "everyone's dead". The anchor on cable tv sobbed while reporters in manila freaked out.
Gun shots,corpses and the bloody ending. What happened to the children on board who were still looking out the window so light heartedly? What happened to a man passing them lunch boxes through the driver's window?
I have never watched a hostage situation unfold,live,as I did today. I guess I never really had the time to watch hours and hours of live news on tv, but now it has become my job.
The fear, the pain,the horror,the trauma. The woman who watched her husband shot and pretended to be dead to stay alive for her kids. But just to find out that two of her kids were dead and one in ICU.god bless.
Finding someone to blame makes the tragedy slightly more tolerable., but dont blame for the sake of it or for a sense of closure. Make it constructive.
RIP
I first heard of the hostage situation while I was still in court listening to relatively trivial cases. I didn't share the degree of shock felt by people around me. Hostage situations happen all the time. The fact that the tour group held hostage in manila was from hong kong made no difference to me.
Hours later, I was back in the office. It felt like a newsroom, more than ever. Colleagues gathered around the numerous televisions all showing the situation live. Just about everyone held their breath seeing the bus driver dashed out and screamed "everyone's dead". The anchor on cable tv sobbed while reporters in manila freaked out.
Gun shots,corpses and the bloody ending. What happened to the children on board who were still looking out the window so light heartedly? What happened to a man passing them lunch boxes through the driver's window?
I have never watched a hostage situation unfold,live,as I did today. I guess I never really had the time to watch hours and hours of live news on tv, but now it has become my job.
The fear, the pain,the horror,the trauma. The woman who watched her husband shot and pretended to be dead to stay alive for her kids. But just to find out that two of her kids were dead and one in ICU.god bless.
Finding someone to blame makes the tragedy slightly more tolerable., but dont blame for the sake of it or for a sense of closure. Make it constructive.
RIP
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