On Friday, 22nd August

1st half:


2nd half:
As we huddled around the round table,
with the blare of the tiu tiu tiu music forming a protective film around us,
hugging us as we chatted,
as we told stories,
even as we cat-fought.

It always is the case I suppose,
how a woman will always be forgiving towards her man,
how she can forever be able to find excuses for all the wrongs he put her through.

And just as similarly,
it will always be the good friend who has problems with the boyfriend.
How she always feels indignant on her behalf for the way the boyfriend treats her,
how she always shares a love-hate relationship with the beau.

Love him- for he makes the good friend happy
Hate him- for the way he treats her like a fool

And there we have it too,
around the same table,
the contrast between the women who have bravely entered into relationships before,
and those who are still stubbornly insisting on waiting for the right one,
however cliche that sounds.

The difference in expectations is staggering,
I must say.

As the harsher women pit themselves against their milder counterparts,
as the different beliefs clash,
as questions of,
"I don't understand how u can allow him to blah blah blah...."
and their corresponding replies of
"But it's like that what. No choice also, I'm ok de blah blah blah...."
bounced off one another like an exciting table tennis match,
the type of foolishness that I have always wondered how women could let themselves sink into
suddenly became clear in that split second.

Foolishness is really self-defined in this case.
What is foolish to me,
may simply be practical realism to another.
Similarly, what is to me rightful behavior,
can turn out to be merely prideful idealism to another.

From innocent little girls with open hearts,
we grow into young ladies with bright expectations of the future,
the future that is a perfect portrait as told by our mums,
as told in fairytales,
the perfect picture of cheery smiles and happily ever afters.
Then within the blink of an eye that came too soon,
caution took over as hot tears washed those stardust away.

Don't we all love to reminisce about the good old days,
to talk about the past,
what we love about it,
and what we would love to change?
And don't we all just love to laugh at the young ones,
as they fumble with their lives,
as we gleefully watch them tread or in some cases,
STAMPEDE their way in their lives into the same big black hole
that we ourselves have once fallen into before?

I do.

To champagne, margaritas, chicken wings,
to loud, hearty laughters,
and women in their 20s

Cheers~