Klub Kandy will be the death of me. :P

It's the party for all Asian students in Brisbane at a club called Family and I've attended every. single. one. since I turned 18. Haha. I'm quite sad that I'm leaving it behind. :( But I'll always love the crazy memories!

Trinity, Jo and I started the night at Pane E Vino (cnr Albert and Charlotte Streets). We had heard fantastic things about it. We have no doubt now that they were all true. Ridiculously good food that makes my stomach growl just from thinking about it. Mmmm... Feed me now, someone!


Really laidback ambience.


'Students, you have a perusal time of 10 minutes. During this time, you may not write in your answer sheet..." :P

Yeah, sorry. Fuck exams!


I could never recreate that or pull it off cause I'm naturally panda-like. Sigh.


Smile! :)

Now it's time to make you drool. CauseI'msoniceliddat.


Linguini with clams


Ricotta-filled ravioli with eggplant, spinach, olives in napoli sauce.


Ravioli al funghi.


Tiramisu with pistachio biscotti


Italian hot ciok super syok! :)

It's so evil that their prices are not exactly catered for students but it's so worth it. Hey, if you've got extra in your pocket or have just emptied all your 5 cent coins to the bank, then screw it. Just try their pasta!

Moving along.


Er.


Yeah.

=.="


Trinity's awesome dress!


My not so awesome dress that cost me 15 bucks and the girl in line behind me just HAD to be wearing the same thing. That is why I HATE generic clothes. =P


Girlies on the trancefloor! It was like some big reunion of the party chicks, haha. Hey, the music was really good this time around! The last time was actually a bit boring and crappy, but yay, they got it right!


Jo and my housemate, Linh who was happy after her four drinks.

It's quite bad that D has been spoiling me with cocktails. For once, I stood in front of a bar and didn't know what to order. Anyway, I was actually disappointed with one of the bartenders that night who was really rude and got my drinks wrong. Ergh. And they were slowwww.

At least the last one to serve me at the ice bar was friendly. :) Makes up for it, I guess. I just don't like it when people get crabby for no reason. It's not like he was bleeding from his non-existent vajayjay. :P


If you look closely, it's mad packed. You can expect to be elbowed and stepped on at least a few times.

I have to admit that the trance floor at The Met is bigger and thus more accommodating. But for some reason, I still have this liking for Family.


With Liz and her boy. Sorry darling, I've forgotten his name. :(


And these are the party pimps boys. Hehe. Red here is famous for his lift-me-up hugs.


Nick, whom I've learned never to dance with ever since that jealous ex of his, hehe. We should just stick with drinking and talking.


I think this pic is hot to trot!


And this one's just... I don't think I have to describe it. ;)


With the happy sisters. Kyles was happily drunk and declaring a lot of love that night. Hahah.

Randomly, very late into the night (or early into the morning, depends on how you see it) I saw one of the bartenders from an amazing bar whom I had been introduced to by D. I said hello, and we chatted for a bit. He was a bit upset that night so I bought him his favourite shot. He then introduced me to one of his friends, and since they were happily getting rid of their thousand dollar bar tab, they bought shots for me and a few of my friends. His friend spoke to me about tequila and why it's the 2nd most expensive type of alcohol in the world. It was quite interesting, really, even if I don't remember much cause I have bad memory. :P In turn, since he said he was heading to Singapore before Shanghai, I told him to visit Zouk. Isn't that just so typical? *smirk* Singapore = Zouk.

Anyway, I found out later from D that that guy is one of Australia's best bartenders. And that what he told me about tequila is what he's normally PAID to tell others.

Talk about my lucky night. :)

Damn. I'm really gonna miss it!

I've just lost my train of thought. I think it left the station that is my so-called brain without me and there is no next train.

Still pretending that I don't have a whole list of things to do before I go, when all I wanna do is party like a nineteen year old should after exams. Aren't I just horrible? :P

It's almost 3 am, my test is less than six hours away and I reallydon't care. Just way. too. tired. It's dragged on for weeks now, this heavyyyy feeling. It only goes away when I'm fully preoccupied with something else that just makes me feel like I'll never come back to this position, where I am now: sitting at a desk in a chair that I might as well chain myself to.

It's not enough to procrastinate on Facebook, randomly message people who have pretty much faded into the background that is the past and sms D about dinner tonight; I need real-life contact with people. It's not enough to break for coffee and biscuits; I want a whole meal in a restaurant complete with accommodating waiters. It's not enough to nap on my table; I miss my eight hours of sleep per night, not per 3 nights.

I want and need my life back. As much as I need a good grade. I'm just holding on for the next 7 1/2 hours to go by quickly and less painfully.

Yeah, I'm done whining. Back to the books and papers and mountainload of whatever he said she said that he said. :P

You know people like that, especially if you're already one of them. You know, the 'cool' people. The ones who are up there on the social ladder, and are constantly in the spotlight. Even when you were in school, or maybe ESPECIALLY when you're in school, it's hard to pretend this group doesn't exist.

I used to think that their lives were easy and very much desirable. They might be the rich kids, the ones who were accepted into the ingroup immediately, the cheerleaders, the boys who strutted, the girls who read Vogue and Cosmo from cover to cover before any of the others even touched one, could afford to fly to New York for a few days, were spoiled rotten with the latest Gucci, and had their own massive room in their mansion at the posh and expensive housing areas. Foie gras every night? Why the hell not?

Maybe they owned a car before the rest of us did and trashed theirs when we first drove our parents', dropped out of school, picked up a bong, lit a cigarette, got wasted, permanently high, whatever it is. Or on the nicer side, maybe the boys just liked them better and they got asked out on dates every second hour of the day, had cool parents who let them do anything they want, naturally more beautiful, but still had heaps to spend on makeup that would further make them more like queens, could pronounce Dolce and Gabbana before the rest of us even knew that they were not the names of some remote area in the North Pole, and wore clothes that resembled second skin. *shrug*

But now and then, I see them again and they might become acquaintances. Sometimes I'm shocked by how real they are. And I no longer see why they're so different. Rather, I see why they're so similar. Where's the cool factor? Where did this boy whom I secretly used to dream of dating go and who is this stranger who has taken his place? I don't want to sit in the same room with him any longer than necessary because his universe is centred around himself. Or that girl. She's still gorgeous, but where's her confidence? I always thought she was a butterfly in the making, but deep down inside, she's really just a caterpillar, waiting to fly. She might not need makeup to catch the eyes of any guy, but she still sits by the phone, waiting for the cute boy from last night to call, even if she restrains herself from picking up until the 5th or 6th ring.

He could be driving the latest car, but cops a lot of flak from his parents, whilst yours are completely cool with whatever you decide to do. She could be the hottest thing on the catwalk, but she might have starved to be the way she is right now. You might wonder how some guys get all the girls, but those girls could be the most shallow creatures you'll ever meet and wouldn't ever want to bring home. And I don't know what else about her is real, besides the money in her wallet and the grands she spends on herself to follow the latest Milan trends, because in the end, the friends she makes are all deceitful people who victimise her till she falls to rock-bottom. He's about to smoke himself to cancer and no one will answer her door 2 years from now when her landlord comes knocking for rent. Who has it better off: the cool or the uncool?

Of course, sometimes, there are the bad perceptions we have of people before we meet them. Oh, she goes clubbing every weekend, and was at the riverside restaurant for dinner last night; I'm sure she will look her pretty nose down at me and have no time to speak to me. Or he's so rich that I don't think I want to ask him out to coffee at Starbucks. He might insist on going to the Hilton and I don't have the shoes or the guts to walk into that overbearing place oozing with I'm-so-rich people. But she could be your best friend in 2 weeks time when you sing Death Cab for Cutie in her car together or he might just be THE ONE. Oh, it's horrid where stereotypes take us. I don't want to fall for it ever again.

The pretty girl who lives a few doors away from me expressed envy that I had managed to get involved with all sorts of activities in uni. I was surprised. This is the girl that every guy I know dreams of dating, and she has said something about me that others might even think of as a good trait, something that I had never really paid much attention to because quite simply, I enjoyed what I was doing. I told her that I didn't do too well in my studies though as I admired how effortlessly pretty she looked for her dinner date that night, as she always does everytime that I see her around.

I wistfully think to myself that some things in life are just not equal in that sense, but only because that's how it seems on the surface. And remind myself never to immediately feel envy upon encountering the next person who fits the 'cool' mould. Cause I'm throwing out that mould along with last night's trash. :)

Something about the way he kissed my forehead goodnight and left me to my thoughts.

I can hear the sobs inside. I'll cry for you if you won't.

She loves me. No, she doesn't. She just wants me.

'I'll still be here when you come back.'

Drinking to forget tonight. Wake up tomorrow to remember it all.

This bite you took out of my life is draining me dry. Come back and fill me in, please.

I dreamt of the past. I woke up wishing so fervently that the future come sooner so that I'll dream of the present next.

Why can't I be blind to her imperfections?

I've forgotten what it's like to have friends who leave me in the lurch. Please don't ever let me remember.

He's so very incredibly, amazingly... beautiful.

When he pushed and pushed, I thought giving in would be the hardest part. No, reflecting on the moment when I did has proven to be most difficult.

She didn't hear me when I said 'I love you'.

I waited for you to call till my supper went cold and the flies feasted.

We think badly of things so that if they mess up, our heartbreaks won't be as shattering, as if we had placed all our eggs in one basket.

If it happens tonight, I'll wake up tomorrow and not want to leave your side even more.

She's back. Then she goes. And I'm back to being the stoned asshole she thinks I am, but it's only because I die everytime she goes back to being herself.

HoldmecauseI'veforgottenwhatit'sliketobeheld.

Today has been strange. I woke up and upon reading Trinity's note to drag her out of bed if she wasn't awake by 10 (it was 10:20 already), I proceeded to nudge her a little and tempt her with breakfast. Made us a bacon, egg and cheese mini burger each and headed to work.

Whilst at work, I could not seem to wake up, and upon the advice of one of the cook sand my brain telling me to give in already, I had a latte. After that, my coffee high took over and I could not stop smiling. I suppose that was good for business, and the customers must've been pleased because I suspect most were better-mannered than they would usually be. I also worked extra quickly and dare I say, efficiently, in an effort to make the clock tick faster.

However, I must've smiled too much, or worked too quickly. Because a man who owned another restaurant offered me a job. =.=

Right.

So anyway, he proceeded to tell me to ask me how much I get paid, to which I replied that I wasn't at liberty to discuss. Of course, that's a lie, but I didn't feel like telling him my pay rate. Nothing wrong with that. :P He said he owned a business and wanted to see if he was paying right at $18 an hour. I thought that was fairly decent for someone my age. Then he revealed that he'd be paying the same rate to everyone, which isn't right, as Australian employers pay different wages to people of different ages up till 21. I pointed that out, but he must not have listened to me (or preferred not to). He then asked me if I was happy working at Dimanche* and I said yes. Of course I am.

I've actually never had a better job. The work is tough, especially on Friday and Saturday nights when tables turn over as soon as you turn your head away, and before you know it, you're taking orders for the 6th couple to sit in that corner and again, laugh obligingly when they say 'oh, I can't pick!' It's repetitive work, but by no means does it mean that the learning has stopped. Every shift, I discover something new about what it means to run a place like this, and it might be good or bad. Either way, it's a learning experience.

I digress. As per usual.

Anyway, he reassured me that I would get at least $20-$30 in tips per night, which is actually very good. Note that tipping is not customary in Australia, where a goods and services tax is automatically added to your bill. However, we do receive tips at work, and they're divided amongst all staff. He left me his name card and reminded me to call him. Funny thing is, since I lost my name badge at work, I've been wearing one with the name 'Nicola' and occasionally, someone does use that. So he reminded 'Nicola' to call him. Hehe. I didn't mention that I was leaving the country in two weeks because I didn't want him to get the impression that I was unhappy with my current work conditions. Au contraire, I have never worked with or served more interesting people, tasted more different foods, or been handed so much tips before. Or been paid this much, for that matter. And my birthday means that I'm getting paid more as well. Obviously, it means I love what I'm doing and if I wasn't leaving, I wouldn't give it up. :)

Nicola's considering going to the restaurant just to check it out. Hehehe.

The last table I served was a table of 10 who pissed me off because they took up the largest table and only ordered drinks. Typically, I wouldn't mind if a couple of two came in and had pots of tea whilst seeking shelter from the rain. But a whole table of 10? You've got to be kidding. We did NOT evolve into a Starbucks while I was preoccupied with another customer, okay? :P Not to mention the fact that we were extremely busy, they took ages to order after arriving in pairs and what-not. And two people sharing a large latte is not only wrong; it's pathetic. Lady, don't stop your boyfriend if he wants to get a skim latte (I never understand it when guys get coffees on skim though). Get your own. Don't ruddy insist on sharing. Loosen those reins a little, will you? GAWD.

Another one who pissed me off was this old man who visited Dimanche* with his family and threw a big fuss when I informed him that the banana fritters were sold out. His family proceeded to ask me to make a recommendation, and so I offered the sticky date pudding, to which he turned his nose up to, and said he hated. OKAY. I was still smiling, but inside, I was fuming. Already, they had caused me trouble when they wanted me to set another table, and changed their mind, WITHOUT informing me. Yeah, apparently waitresses are supposed to be telepathic. I must not have gotten that bloody memo. =P Then you whine about the lack of banana fritters. Oh, get out. Go somewhere else. I'm not about to apologise for the umpteenth time because if you are going to be downright ridiculous about us providing something we don't have (no, we're not gonna go out and buy you some fricken bananas as you blatantly suggested), other people would've rocked up, had a good meal, and actually tipped our staff. Such nonsensical behaviour!

I ended the day by having to speedwalk home for half an hour with 2 boxes of pizza whilst mad people yelled at me from their car after misreading bus timetables. Next time, I'm not gonna care about cheap deals; I'll just pay extra for delivery. God knows that after a day of work, I can afford to have dinner delivered, thank you.

I'm mining enough minerals to stuff down your infested Terrans' throats.
I'm harvesting enough gas to blow your drones to bits.
I'm so building enough Sunken Colonies that will stab your infested Terrans where the sun doesn't shine.
I'm gonna make your Overlords wish they could run.
I'm about to obliterate your base because you tortured my Ultralisks, which are prettier than any you might decide to 'build'.
I'm a Zerg myself but you are the slimiest Zerg ever and you should stay at the bottom of a Spawning Pool.
I'm gonna make you wish you could still use 'power overwhelming' in this ridiculous Facebook application that is Starcraft Cows.

Ooh, got me so frustrated. :P