"So what did you do?"

"I wait for it to pass. There's not much I can do about it. It's like rain. You get caught in it along a shelterless stretch of road and you can only wait for the clouds to stop pissing."

"Use an umbrella"

"Umbrella's aren't a whole lot of good when it's a fucking thunderstorm."

Note to self

Dear Christine, 

Fernet and beer.

No go.

When in doubt, 

Go with dihydrogen monoxide.

Regards, 

Christine 

Working from home

"Going out? What's that?"
- me, when this pandemic blows over

12 days of working from home thus far and...I'm embracing this far more readily than I'd admit. Most glad about not having the Mental Load of Being Out. Also secretly pleased with social obligations dropping to an absolute zero (potentially a short term kind of secretly pleased; we'll see).

So many plans to finally execute. All the things to read, bake, fold, watch, make, and try.
Definitely living my best life as a homebody right now.

Snippets of mum

I told my mum that I met someone, he starts, told her that I like this person very much. She looks at me in that concerned way only mums do and asks, well does she like you too.

Leaning against the table, he takes a measured sip of wine, and stares at the liquid's surface for a second before chuckling to himself. I said I think so. Another chuckle. She smiles and she laughs a lot when she's with me, I like to think so, mum. 

He has a bashful grin when he turns. Without waiting for a response he continues, my mum smiles and all she says is "Be careful" before promptly going off to sleep. His body starts shaking as wheezing laughter punctuates his recounting of the tale. Be careful? Mum, what do you mean "Be careful"? He exaggeratedly mimics shaking a person awake. Mum?? Mum, don't sleep! Explain yourself!! Mummm!! He is promptly dismissed with a wave of her hand.

And she's there, chortling at the anecdote but more at him - facial expressions, gestures, comicality and all. He's right, she does smile and laugh a lot when she's with him.

Level up

You know you've achieved Regular status when the cheery teh tarik uncle at the hawker centre sees you and immediately rattles off your order. Either that or I'm really the sole depleter of their masala tea mix. 

Small thrills 😊

Toast set loyalties

New stall. Kaya toast set.
Give it a chance, my stomach implored.
So I did, against my better judgement of the crew obviously struggling with the ten orders before mine.

Cue, 10 minutes later: Hot tea all over hand, eggs rare, toast wrong.

Thank you for reaffirming that Yakun will always be my number one.

A Toast

To absent friends
lost loves
old gods

To stories
To dreams
To the season of mists and mellow fruitfulness

Heterochromia

That was the word that eluded my grasp the day I properly stared you in the eye. Gold-flecked blue eyes with hints of green that darken when the sun sets. You, my charmer with a swagger and that damn accent.

You with the uncertain smile during the impromptu visit to Bar Stories. You're quiet, you murmur, I can't tell if you like this place or hate it. Quiet's good, I reply, I like it. The drinks are great and the music could do with some tweaking but who's caring. I tried to find a place I thought you'd like, you beam, looking very pleased with yourself.

You're quite my opposite.

You try to paint conversation onto the cool walls of silence. Lulls discomfort you; I see it in the way your eyes flit from drink to bartender to ceiling to me, how your leg bounces sporadically, and your fingers play an occasional staccato on the bar top. Quickly the void of quietness overwhelms you and you turn to me with an apologetic grin. I'm all out of things to say Chris, you confess. I shrug, your company speaks for itself.

You'd take the livelier bar downstairs in a heartbeat; the one with people, chatter, and music spilling into the narrow streets surrounding it.

I found a place I know you'd like, I declare two drinks later. Then we're downstairs meandering through a convoluted maze of bodies, booze, smoke, and music. You fucking loved it.

Til now it's the one street name you remember and your voice warms when you recall it.

Work in progress

Am convinced that the heights of Being A Proper Adult will be reached when I last a day with smudge-free glasses.

Caffeine

Your various forms
of fragrant regret
(most recently,
matcha latte housed in
a future hideout)
is keeping me up
all. night.

Literally.

Flesh tiring just the slightest
but mind
on a rambling walk
building parallel thought universes
upon the foundation of
a mistake acknowledged.

For future reference,
when you're witless
in the face of tea lattes:
Drink only
the freshly brewed aroma.
Leave the poison
to the pros.