Wanting Romance

Which girl doesn't? A certain someone I know says Australia is the place to be for romance - well, yes, I suppose it can be, since all things are relative, but I must add that no, it isn't Australia, rather Melbourne in particular thankyouverymuch and please excuse the bias, that you should refer to.


You want dashing sunsets, fiery skies? I was making dinner looking out to this one night not long ago. I just had to grab my camera - fingers marinating in raw meat and some spice or the other, I forget now - and slip onto the balcony to capture the rays saturating above the city lights. In fact, you should knock yourself out with these photos of the city by night, taken by my friend Josh.

Yes, there are quaint little cafes tucked in cosy lanes and corners of streets, lit in only the softest and most atmospheric of glows, and which serve such that you would never want for anything off commercialised coffee joint menus ever again.

Or, if you preferred, you could take leisurely drives to lavender farms or little townships for scones or a pie, sit by a pier with fish and chips, bask in beautiful parks with sun and gelati for company, the possibilities are endless. Stop for a midnight feast of Greek goodness, or live it up dining on choice seafood or a juicy steak by the river, the choice is yours. Did I mention, we have some damn good Chinese, Korean, Vietnamese, Thai too?

I do have to admit though, that if rain is what you want, Bel, then there is no where that rains so gloriously and hard as good ol' KL. And that is one of the things I miss most about home.

Jeez, I sound like some touristy advertistment flyer thing. Or something.

Merry Monkeys

Keryn is a blast - I love the girl for many reasons, not least because she is one after my own heart. For instance, like when she suggested we do something on the night of the mooncake festival a couple of weeks ago. And she mentioned playing lanterns. And getting high on mooncake. Again, as she had me grinning stupidly while we were hatched the night's plans regarding who was to do/get what and call whom, via many an sms. And because she gave me reason to merrily go a-hunting in Chinatown for the night's props. And especially because I was so wanting to do so in the first place, but the boy paid no attention to my very unsubtle hints.

Actually, he did technically pay attention to it. He dismissed my happy-bubble-lantern-thoughts with much disinterest. Until I was saved by the (sms) beep. And lo and behold:

Imagine my delight when I later discovered these photos! They were unplanned and by no means prechoreographed. (We knew photos were being taken, of course, but not how many or when, as we felicitously mucked around.) Just goes to show how our minds are wired one and the same in many ways.

Give us an excuse, and we'll be at it in a heartbeat!

Tug

I don't know what I feel more - loving the sudden jolt of familiarity, of knowing, or, hating the reminder, the knowing - that I felt today, seeing. Suddenly, I am arrested, all my attention funnelled by some random stranger at a near distance whom, by some strange, strange chance, oozes of you. And I stare, fixated, at how her back curves like yours (her arms, body, limbs - they're packed like yours), at the way she gets out of her car (the sort you'd approve), and shuts the door, at how she stands (slightly akimbo), how she walks, how her hair sways the way yours does. How she is made so that her size must always at first belie the confidence within, like you, though the misconception is instantly recognizeable to a trained eye.

It sounds a little freaky, but it isn't like that. It's the small things, things you know but never think about, about someone, things that you know but don't realize you do until you do. And it makes you realize, too, how much you miss. So that you end with nothing, but remnants of memory, and pangs, of love and just a little hate. As the image whose likeness has you hypnotized grows smaller, and the distance grows bigger, now that you are on a tram, boarded fleetly at the last possible second before it pulls away, and that figure of deja vu is nothing but that.

It began a startle, and prompted transfixion. And then a glimpse... was no more than a memory of a glimpse.

More Momentos

Because one serve of photos is never enough. And really, the fact that 2 wedding are a week apart - not really my fault now, yes? OK, and because I am turning undeniably word-lazy. But I have good justification. Those topics which I would blog about are not the unthinkingly happy, celebratory moments you see here. Which is not to say they are all and entirely drab and grey. Still, they require some thought-processing and contemplation, and having to face the facts, so to speak, and which are actually things I could well and long be lazy about. See, rambling on excuses, and I'm not doing so bad in the word-count department now, huh? But enough chitchat, here's more wedded action for the fairytale fans:

Windmill Gardens -
in the middle of Melbourne!

My pseudo-Dutch (had to come up with something when repeatedly
asked what traditional wear I was in) gold-green
matches the bride's champagne gown and the day's backdrop!

The Joyce-Julius wedding party. Can't quite see it here, but the
bridesmaids are adorned in kebaya. If you haven't guessed,
Joyce got us all specifically geared up.

HAH! Loving our photos - and
shameless about it, too! ;)

Why not start them young?
Bek getting into it, complete with fancy gear.

The official photographers,
sneaking in one of themselves.

Baring teeth is what we do best.
I think the sun made our pearlies whiter
...and our eyes water!

It felt so good to have what to wear be my biggest worry
- being only one week apart from the last wedding and all.

I think I'm categorically turning into an aunty
...Help! (But then, Josh is incorrigibly naughty!)

PS: More photos of Gideon and Sue's here, thanks to Shubhra.

Frozen Momentos

GS-style glamour.
The newly-wedded Mr and Mrs Liew.

Morning Moment - one of the very few. We were all too
preoccupied, thinking (and hunting down): "FOOD!"

Bridesmaids Bonanza - buy 2, get 1 free!
Demanding attention in red!
(Or trying not to get caught getting in trouble?)

Clockwise, from top left: With the sister, Sammy - cute enough to steal
some (good amount of) attention!, Keryn, Sophia.
The art of between-courses entertainment! :)

Crime-bud Liz, the bride's schoolies, Yen and Cheryl,
Doctor Joe and Rascal, the dude in pink.

With Euge and May (and baby F!), Dramatic Angie,
Sue and Tash, Life*TV Boys Mike and Steve.

Sue struts her stuff
- figure, gown, and ideal posing position #74 -
in this Carven Ong number.

Entree of enticement, seared veal medalions
versus slow-roasted duck and duck confit mains,
mascarpone and Tia Maria parfait finish.

The Life of a Serial Photo Addict, or She Who Loves Her Pants

Sue and Gideon's wedding allowed, for once in my life, the photohog in me to admit two things without any qualms:

One - that although it seems I am permanently stuck to the front of the camera lens, it really is the fact that my being bridesmaid (and only 'cause) that there were unending requests for photos. So much so to the point I remember being unable to think (apart from thinking I was unable to think, of course), other than autosmile on cue. So yes, I am proudly announcing that I am not (entirely) vain and narcissistic, and that - wonder of wonders! - the manymany photos of me are not *gasp* all my own engineering.

Two - that I have by far more photos of me, than that of the subjects of the night. And why? First, because they were completely hounded by everyone else to comply to endless photos so the rest of the bridal party weren't really with them much of the time (and I thought I was harrassed), and second, because I had to have in hand a bouquet in place of my trusty snapsnap to hound them with as well myself.

Of course, by the time I got to Joyce and Julius' wedding the next Saturday, I was back to my old tricks, though not quite fully having recovered my photomojo. It being one week apart may have had something to do with it. I mean, really, next I'll be comparing attending weddings to changing underwear, and by no means be dramatically exaggerating (the count is now 7 - and there are more to go). All I can say is, boy am I glad to be back in functional wear!

Photos to come. Naturally.