was cleaning out my notes and came across random lit notes and their assorted scribbles. chanced upon my favourite poem. much love for concrete poetry.

1(a

le
af
fa
ll

s)
one
l

iness

(e. e. cummings)

——————–

i thought i had ran really far, but life sometimes just comes full circle when you least expected it to. the room. the smells. the words. yeah, the words. my word.

i’m too lazy to think of an inventive title so i decided what i am eating now shall suffice as being informative. if you know me in real life (if you don’t, please go away scarypsychostalker person), I don’t eat raisins. i only eat sultanas. but add a C to the vilethingthatlookslikemonkeypoop, and you get this wonderful invention called Craisins, or as the nutrional info panel goes “ingredients: cranberries, sugar” (as though there weren’t enough naturally-occuring sugar already).

and all that long preamble was just to show how devastatingly bored i am with looking at annual turnover/market capture/whatever econ jargon people can throw at me from bigass database that has an even biggerass attitude problem which keeps on signing me out. which means, BLOG TIME. *waves fairy wand* there is muchly many happy happenings in my life to yabber on about. but i shall yak about italy and greece first.

snapshots/potshots:

1) Doha:
(at the free snacks counter for poor souls who have to be stuck with a super long overlay)

me: *points to samosa* Samosa
free snacks counter person: MANGO
me: *points to samosa* Samosa
free snacks counter person: MANGO
me: *points very deliberately at samosa* Samosa
free snacks counter person: *points very deliberately at my blouse* MANGO
me: *mental palmforehead* ah yes, mango. samosa please.
good grief. do not wear blouse that says mango. ever. again.

2) milano:

prancing around in the rain in rolled up jeans with those plastic Overland purple slippers and a pink umbrella. total sartorial disaster in the fashion capital. but my feet and clothes were dry and that was all that mattered. plus we weren’t exactly in front of the prada store anyway…

3) venizia:

getting lost in residential venice by walking more than 3/4 of the island, seeing those old grannies chatting before the evening meal. and seeing the sunset over the Grand Canal (read: longkang smell in summer). and the prettiest streetlamps evah. san marco square at night, with the lighting and the people dancing and the concert pianist entertaining.

4) firenze:

the uffizi. seeing Botticelli/Raphael/Michaelangelo’s work for real and prancing along the same walkways that the Medici family did, was just too much nerdlove for me to handle. oh and the sweetest hostel we had stayed in, with homemade pasta and so much booze they pour the wine from a JUG and not the bottle.  oh and the train ride to rome where we met the evangelicals. that was REALLY awesome.

5) pisa:

we all read about it in our childhood. seeing is believing. and seeing is also taking manymanymany stupid pictures. they left the ‘photo-taking opportunities’ write-up out of many a children’s book!

6) roma:

R. jumping up and down in the internet room after checking her results. for me, that was priceless. I was happier for her than for myself even. the vatican, where all my ‘history of Christianity’ facts materalised in front of me. prancing around the streets till past midnight every night, esp with A. from argentina. the cobblestone paths that kill your ankles.

7) tessaloniki:

getting from the airport to our accomodation with just 60cents and nary a word of greek but many a word of mandarin. they were spot on about the chinese diaspora. going to the home of the gods and talking about weathering processes. and my fondest memory, sitting on the swings for more than two hours, just chatting and looking at mount olympus.

athens:

too many cheekopehs. but So. Much. History that i could just feel aristotle in my bones. and the sunset at souinon and the islands were just how I imagined them to be, only better.

but i think the best still had to be the company. friends from sec sch, jc and uni. sta attento to them and deluzo to all.

i like polaroids because they satisfy an innate (and inane) desire for instant gratification. but God does not work on a ’snap and you get it’ schedule. sometimes we don’t even get to the snap bits, sometimes it snaps but in the wrong way, and you end up with one of those strange photos that you wish you didn’t take. but wishing doesn’t make things un-exist. wishing doesn’t make things come into being either.

Forget what we’re told
Before we get too old
Show me a garden that’s bursting into life

betcha can’t find it.