Champagne Wishes & Caviar Dreams

I take life with a pinch of salt ... a wedge of lime and a shot of tequila!

Friday, June 22, 2007

Malibu Merry-Go-Round

"Messing up. It's what makes a person. It's how we learn, where we find joy. And the things you don't plan for are things you never see coming."

-Dr. Izzie Stevens, "Grey's Anatomy - My Favourite Mistake"-

I honestly thought the last of anything exciting had happened to me with this fabulous offer. How wrong I was ... with packing in everybody I love who wants to say goodbye, or party for the last time in a long while ... exchanging memories and stories to last for our time apart ... and to the occasional ex who comes banging on your front-door at 3 am in the morning.

I'm not making up that last bit. H calls Dr. Dish my "favourite mistake" ... I'm not sure if I'd be as kind to my memories. Think our dishy doc is really my moment of weakness. That's weakness plural, unfortunately. HOW we hooked up again, I haven't a clue! I certainly didn't mean to .... it just kind of happened.

Honestly, guys, I was standing firm. He was an inconsiderate jerk for far too long to get back into my good books ... much less into anything else! I haven't seen him in months! He blew me off on my birthday. ON MY BIRTHDAY. Unforgiveable! I wasn't supposed to have anything to do with him. EVER again ....

I've been refusing to see him all this month. He'd found out about my big move, and decided he suddenly wanted to see me. Forget the fact we'd barely spoken for the last 6 months or so. Suddenly, he had to see me.

Where was all this concern 6 months ago? Where was this affection on my BIRTHDAY?

Bah!

I firmly resolved not to see him. I wasn't going to be anyone's convenience. I was to good for him. He'd blown every oppurtunity in the book. I was off for a new life, one that did NOT include a too slow, inarticulate dreamy eyed doctor.

20 text messages later ... I said okay to him driving by. Then it was lets not wake my parents, lets go back to his. I made it clear for it to be just drinks, and nothing more. Yeah right ...

But when I got into his flashy new ride ... and took my first good look at him in 6 months, I nearly swallowed my own tongue. How was he so hot? How was I still weak at the knees at the sight of those bottomless brown pools? I should detest him. I should be angry, annoyed, irritated ... not melting into a puddle at the bottom of the new 4 wheel drive.

Sigh ... he knows me well too.

He barely even hinted at anything ... not even to kiss me. We spoke, we laughed, he kept topping up my glass (my only sign the entire evening that he may want to get me flat on my back) ... he was interested in what I was doing, he was supportive and excited for my new life. He was my friend again.

I hadn't seen this part of him since 2004, when we first kissed, and everything turned upside down. I was delighted.

But not as delighted as when I recognised that look in his eye when he pulled me onto his lap .... and we went ... er, "down" our own memory lane.

Again. I don't have an explanation, other than the fact he still is hot.

" The thing about plans is they don't take into account the unexpected. So when we're thrown a curve ball, we have to improvise. Of course, some of us are better at it than others. Some of us have to move on to plan B and make the best of it. And sometimes what we want is exactly what we need, but sometimes what we need is a new plan."

-Dr. Meredith Grey, "Grey's Anatomy - My Favourite Mistake"-

Thursday, June 14, 2007

Gin Goodbye

"Leaving, on a jet plane - don't know when I'll be back again..."

I don’t do goodbyes. Anyone who knows me knows not to be insulted when I don’t show up for farewell parties, or at the airport. You see … I cry. Easily.

I cried at every single Disney cartoon. I bawled through every Hollywood ending. Sometimes, I even cry at music videos! Don’t ask me why, but I sobbed through Daylight, that awful Sly Stallone film about a bunch of people stuck in a tunnel that was quickly filling up with water. (God, hope Samy saw that film before the Smart Tunnel was built!). I feel things, with a whole lot of emotion.

So I don’t say goodbye to people very easily. I am surrounded by people I like very much. I love with my whole heart – not just my family, but my friends and often, strangers I have barely met. I can make friends with the snap the fingers, and remain friends forever. People constantly ask me how this is so ... I've thought about it through the years, and have come up with this - I prefer to see the good in people.

Naive, I know, but my life has been enriched by so many souls, and I have very few scars to show for it, so I'm going to stick with what is obviously a winning formula.

So I avoid goodbyes, but I’m good with keeping in touch. If you have me as a friend, you’ll never really lose me. (unless you want to!)

I just don’t like thinking about stuff like … “I’ll never do this again”, or “it’ll be another 6 months before we can walk in the park like this”, or “before we can share a bowl of laksa” again. I don’t like thinking this is my last meal at La Bodega, my last Sangria, my last Ghetto at Zouk, my last breakfast at Raju’s or supper at Ming Tien.

Ah, yes, of course you always pine for things you don’t have. When I was in KL, I got depressed thinking of my happening London Life.

Now that I’m packing my bags once again, to head off to lands unknown, I look around me and count my blessings. My KL life is not bad at all. Like London, I conquered KL (again) . And I shall conquer Holland to.

I arrived in England, not knowing a soul. I left, having made countless friends, most of whom I’m still in touch with. There’s room in my heart for a lot more.

I returned to Malaysia, to find all my friends still here, with my place in their hearts, firmly reserved.

This time it will be no different. The world is a lot smaller these days, and goodbyes never mean forever.

There’s only one goodbye I ever uttered, knowing within my soul I shall never see that person again. And I haven’t.

It’s Rex’s loss.

Mr. Perfect sent me a text once, a few weeks after I had emerged from the aftermath of my disastrous relationship. He had been trying to get me on the phone all night, but I was in a noisy pub and didn't hear it ring. The text read. “I knew you would find Vix’s London again.”

I shall miss KL. Oh, it will always be home, and I know I will be back before I know it. But I have this period of time to make Europe mine, to make every last bit of this gift that has been given to me count.

I intend to make it. Goodbye, Malaysia, but not forever. See ya when I see ya~

And hello Brave New World!

I start my new life in a week. I'm contemplating starting a new blog just to record the dutch dailies, but will maintain this blog for any drunken adventures, especially of the romantic kind. I think it is safe to assume that there shall be many! Hope someone's warned Europe that this Fox is out of her Lair!

Monday, June 04, 2007

Moet Moment

Live Forever, for the moment

Ever searching ... for the World

-Spice Girls-

The girls had a point. Live forever, for the moment. Life is but a brief candle – so make of it what you will. Having these exact words (but in French!) echoed back to me by the guy before me was a bit of a shock to my system. I simply wasn’t used to it, having always been surrounded by more sensible and practical souls. (Ahem, CJ!)

My Frenchie wasn’t just good looking. (I’m so predictable). He was also sweet and hesitantly friendly an almost shy manner that was incredibly appealing, without being sleazy and all French about it. He was a bit serious, a bit reserved, but in that strong silent way that I like. A bit of a brooder, but again, I always seem to find that attractive in a man!

He seemed to come alive when he spoke to me. He was the new kid on the block, and as usual, he found me easiest to get along with in a sea of strangers. But not in an I-Just-Need-Another-Friend kind of way. (And not to watch the game with either. Pay attention - he was French. I’m too much of an Anglophile to ever swap to a Gallic side. Crouchy has nothing to fear.) He looked at me in a way that had me speculating about the gleam in his eye as he held my gaze once too often for it to be just friendly. There was a definite connection there.

Love is an irresistible desire to be irresistibly desired.

-Robert Frost-

Honest to God, it was unlike anything I can remember (thus far). Certainly not like with Chappie, where all it was the one first night when we met, and he was on his best behaviour. We all know what happened when he revealed his true colours in record time! Besides, thinking in retrospect - it was mostly fun and games (and alcohol!) which wore thin very quickly.

I think I’d opened up and spoke to Moet more than I’d ever had with Dr. Dish. Let’s all call a spade a spade. My thing with Dr. Dish was purely physical, and nothing else. I had, of course, hoped for more, but after a couple of years now, I need to admit facts. There was no real conversation. No meeting of the minds. So weird, considering our shared history, and decade long friendship. However, other than the nights out drinking and partying, and the few heated encounters between the sheets … there was nothing else.

As for Mr. Darcy and I - it was all about second guessing each other. Perhaps there may well have been a connection, but it has been so long ago now, that I can honestly barely remember.

I don’t like playing games anyway.

I learnt something from my French liason. One always knows when one is fancied. I analyse these situations to death with all my girlfriends (and whichever boy that would listen for his man-sider view). The endless days of agonising over “Do you think he likes me?”, and the familiar plaintive “Why hasn’t he called?” whine. Then it goes to frustration, “Why did he say he’d call, if he then doesn’t?” But the bare facts of the matter is, to quote Greg Bernhart - He’s Just Not That Into You.

It was indeed a cliché – right up to the way I was offered not just wine, but champagne when I first went back to his. (Talk about taking an excerpt right off this blog). And not just any champagne. But – you guessed it! Moet et Chandon. Whatever do the French do to their men? They certainly know how to treat a woman! And spare me the thoughts on practised smooth charmers. I know smooth practised charm. This was not it.

This was definitely, to coin the cliché - different.

I hate to break the illusion, but I don’t actually care for champagne. (Shock horror!) Moet or otherwise. I didn’t tell him that, of course … but still. I know what I’ve named this blog. But you see, my thought was that it was like a dream – Champagne Dreams.

And when dreams come true, sometimes, they don’t turn out the way you thought they would. Just like I find champagne a bit bitter to my tongue, and not quite to my tastes. I’ve learnt that sometimes dreams are best kept as fantasies, in order to keep one from the disappointment that is reality.

Do you still remember how we used to be

Feeling together believe in whatever

My love has said to me

I know it all happened so quickly, but that’s how it was. It only took that instant spark, when serious dreamy hazel eyes met laughing dancing dark ones across the room. I was surprised that he actually came over to meet me… I was even more surprised when he stuck by me and didn’t seem to want to move away from my side. But what shocked me was how very quickly, the entire crowded room disappeared, and it was just the two of us.

He seemed to enjoy talking to me, and making me laugh. But it wasn’t just small talk. Somehow, we were confiding in each other about our respective histories and backgrounds. Though we were from opposite ends of the world, we found that we have shared so many similar journeys and experiences. We’ve lived in the same places, did the same kind of jobs, even want the same kind of things out of life. We were nearly a similar age, a similar mentality … everything just kind of fell in to place.

We shook our heads in amazement at the sheer coincidences. We even spoke each other’s languages but of course his English was far better than my French. A plus point, of course, was that romantic French accent. Just the right tone, giving his almost flawless English a romantic, mind-blowingly sexy touch.

There was no language barrier. It was very easy to talk to him, to communicate. It wasn’t exactly fun and laughs - it didn’t even start off as such. It was an immediate bonding. He understood me. But how could he know me so well in a matter of days, I wonder. How was this l’etranger finishing my sentences, and voicing out my innermost desires? How could he know me?

He said because he felt the same, but I still find the whole thing amazing. For two strangers as we were, meeting like ships in the night, from opposite ends of the globe, and yet … finding out they have the same inner working mechanisms. It boggles the mind.

Both of us were Dreamers

Young love in the sun

Felt like my Saviour

My spirit I gave you

We'd only just begun

But as usual, the timing was all wrong. Moet’s only just arrived in Malaysia, and is still suffering from a broken heart. I know how he feels only too well. He’s trying to get over her, but I don’t want to be that rebound girl. At least he was honest about his feelings about it to me. I don’t know any better, so I’m going to have believe him.

I don’t know him well enough to judge if he’s just spinning some sob story to get into my pants, but my gut feeling is he’s sincere. (Yes I know, it could be some Paul the Wine Guy sob story, but I’ve not felt like breaking any watches. I just feel sad at all that potential, and the what could have been’s.). He’s too hot for it to matter anyway, because when it comes down to it, there is no doubt that our little liason was mutually beneficial.

And most importantly, it doesn’t matter because it was not meant to be. The Gods have other plans for the both of us. It is not the right time for him to contemplate a relationship. He wasn’t looking for a relationship when he met me, he wasn’t looking for what we shared. But we both know you can’t plan these things.

He kept telling me that I know what I want. He said it with a cool, almost arrogant confidence that rocked my very core. Most people see myself as a fickle indecisive female – the façade I chose to show. But I am not. I just let other people think I’m a flighty social butterfly, when people who really know me, know I’m made of much sterner stuff.

I always know precisely what I want, and am willing to move heaven and earth to get it.

And I always seem to.

I don’t do flings. I really don’t. For me, sex is important enough for it to be with someone you know and love. I barely knew Moet. But I wanted him. And with a confidence I very rarely feel, I knew without a shadow of a doubt, this guy wanted me right back.

And that, really was, all there was to it!

Yes I still remember every whispered word

The touch of your skin, giving life from within

Like a love song that I've heard

Slipping through our fingers, like the sands of time

Promises made, every memory saved

Has reflections in my mind

However, this was not just a fling, as most of my friends think. I talk about it quite flippantly, but the experience with Moet had awakened this dormant part of me that I thought was long buried. Meeting Moet has given me hope that there could be someone out there, who would like me, for me, who I can share that kind of soul connection with. I haven’t felt that tug of meeting of two minds, of connecting mentally, emotionally as well as physically so well, in too long. Dare I even say -not since Rex?

It is an irony to end all ironies that Moet shares the same name as Rex in real life. (the French version!) Sigh. Rex, being blue blooded English to the core would hate the fact I hooked up with a Frenchman, but suddenly … I don’t seem to be too bothered about Rex anymore. Moet was so great for me in so many ways that he would never ever know.

As it turns out, I’ve received an offer beyond my wildest imagination than will take me out of Malaysia, and back into Europe. My heart has been longing for this in far too long for me to even think about not jumping on this grand adventure. There is no need to consider anyone or anything else - I’m destined for bigger and better things, and it’s about time my ride got here!

But it is a one way, individual ticket.

Moet understands. We don’t have the luxury of time. Also, we are both free spirited wild rovers suffering from wanderlust. We don’t do well with putting down roots, nor can we be tied down for too long. We may want the same things in our future – roots, foundation, family, companionship, but we’re too young to consider those things right now. And we certainly don’t know each other well enough to consider them with each other.

For me, there’s so much more to see and do in this world. Our lives have just begun, and there’s so much of unexplored territory and experiences. Moet and I may very well have been right for each other, but the fork in the road compels us to take different paths in life at this moment in time. So we did what we could do. We lived in the moment, and made the most out of it.

Viva Forever.

But we're all alone now,

Was it just a dream?

Feelings untold,

They will never be sold

And the secret’s safe with me.