Wherein I Live in Luxury

Back from the most expensive room of my night in the Fullerton. Ming treated us Angels(members of my Kolkata trip, Project Angel 5 – I will continue to use this term of endearment throughout this post) to a room at that hotel beside the merlion, the one I always look at from across the road and walk around the lobby in, and as of today finally got a chance to stay at. It turned out something like a chalet trip, except that you don’t usually get marble flooring and a bathtub in a chalet. Faiz’s brother gave us two complimentary rooms – a suite and a double – for free too, which was a very nice gesture, though the reason(according to Faizy, though I hope he was kidding) wasn’t. In any case, thanks to him we all slept in relative comfort, with no more than three people on a bed, most of which looke dlike they could have acoomodated more anyway.

Theme of the party was chinese costumes, and most of the angels came in something suitably chinese. Ed and Iggy really raised the bar with their rented period china costumes. It was a laugh. Faiz did drag, we had a pageant thing, a couples-matching thing and a quiz thing, all of which seemed to please the crowd. Am much relieved, though I am still in a little bit of shock that I actually helped organize something that was genuinely fun. Usually it’s just lukewarm hahas all round.

Or maybe it’s just the crowd.

I am witness again to the power of taking things seriously. The thing is, I am a born cynic(well, maybe bred, but that’s a topic for another day), and I just can’t take anything that seriously. There’s always this black lining to everything I am part of, this neon sign in the background that flashes the message that life is, at it’s root, inconsequential, silly, and transcient. Very buddhist.

Unfortunately, this results in not being able to really enjoy something when I should, such as when I play orientation games or make introductions with strangers who seem the least bit ditzy. And I hate that about myself. And this self-consciousness about my self-consciousness feedbacks, growing on itself until I can no longer take what I’m doing seriously and just mess things up. Or worse – make fun of it myself. Sarcasm is the bastard child of insecurity.

Of course, at the root of it life is inconsequential, silly and transcient and I should be no better and just go with the bloody flow. Thing is, that I was raised with this platonic belief that the good man should try to outgrow this silliness. I have been somewhat shamed out of this opinion of late, of course. And life really is more fun if you just stop thinking of yourself as someone outside of the loop and just jump in to have some fun.

That’s right – I’m gonna use birth control.

Really really tired. I don’t know why – I must have slept like 10 hours on the bed(which was so nice). Or maybe it’s the reason. Will post pictures when I get the chance to.

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