Life is full of surprises

Life is DEFINITELY full of surprises

Get ready for some good ol' verbal diarrhea. To be honest with you, I don't even know where or how to begin. I have this desperate need to purge this whole thing out of my system but it's soo hard to put everything in writing. I just spent 3 hours reading a book (which, btw, I found by accident) authored by someone I "know". Or "used to know", depending on how you look at it. Don't laugh. We all I know I'm not really capable of reading anything other than tabloids with paparazzi shots of celebrity minges.

Sorry about the length of this post.

Fuck that shit, why am I apologizing when this is MY BLOG? Click click click!

I went to the bookstore earlier this morning to find books about Japanese food (don't ask). One book led to another until I found this book about a British guy who gave up his amazing life in London, packed his bags and moved all the way to the big and glamorous city of Tokyo. I admit -- the cover caught my eye because of the author's name -- I'm one of those people who literally, not figuratively, judge a book by its cover. I was *this* close to screaming "OH MY GOD I KNOW THAT GUY!"

Screw Japanese food (or any food for that matter) for now. I went straight to the cashier to pay for Tarquin's book, got a Starbucks venti americano on the way and left.

Here I am with this blog entry a few hours later.

You see, over the years, I've been extremely lucky to have met people from all walks of life. It doesn't matter who they are or which part of the world they came from; there's always a story to tell behind each and every person that I've met. How colourful that story is depends on the depth of my knowledge experiences with that person. While it's absolutely common for most of my encounters with people to end up with unsavoury terms (well duh), a few people found a gem out of me (and vice-versa) along the way.

And then there are others that I've met who I know very little or almost nothing about, until NOW, thanks to a book.

I honestly can't remember how and where I met Tarquin but it was definitely back in the hey day. It's interesting how some of his close friends became some of my acquaintances for a brief period of time. I think it's best to skip those stories and save them for my future grandchildren in the event I get my own Maddox and Pax Thien.

Tarquin and I had a few 'moments' alright but they were very, very limited. I confess -- my first impression of him was that of a stone-cold fierce bitch. I remember having late night drinks at a bar in Soho one night. There he was in his full glory, a witness with a bird's eye view on how I made a spectacle out of myself.

There are bitches and then there are BITCHES. Let's face it -- we live in a world where people have always something negative to say about other people. Everyone's a bitch. Britney is a bitch, Lindsay is a bitch. I'm a bitch. My mum's a bitch, your sister is a bitch, your dog is a bitch. But not everyone's got a presence that is so strong and intimidating that sometimes, it's best to walk out of a situation to avoid their cold-as-ice stare. If one stare could send a tramp dead on her tracks then clearly Tarquin is a murderer!

Just kidding.

I somehow found myself spend (a LOT of) time with his friends though I never really spent time with him. Out of curiosity, I once asked one of his friends why he is soo cold and the friend told me Tarquin was just like that with people he just met but he really is a nice guy.

I should know better cause he's British, right?

On my next encounter with him, I noticed he eventually warmed up.

Ahhh the power of people who can't keep things to themselves. *chuckles*

We talked about luggage, of all things.

I'll never forget the time when I went to this afternoon tea party where Tarquin brought this adorable little pup as his companion. A few people were too happy to see the baby and when one of his friends tried to put the little canine child on his shoulder, poor thing got dropped five feet to ground! To make matters worse, the dog's leash got tangled on his friend's arm and 2 or 3 people must have stepped on the little pup!

I tried to help but he got there first -- Tarky showed no signs of emotion and not a single word escaped his mouth as he tried to comfort the crying canine but you can tell from his eyes that he was seething. At that point I realized man, I don't think anyone could handle a horrifying situation with such dignity and grace.

Here's the fun part: the irony of it all was the fact that I wore a t-shirt with "LITTLE DOG LOST" emblazoned on my chest that afternoon.

Oh dear.

How sad.

And hilarious, at the same time. Sorry.

There was a time when he invited me to a little party in his ginormous house in Belgravia. While everyone got themselves intoxicated over expensive vodka served off crystal glasses and silver platters coasters, he just stood there, ever the gracious host, keeping a close eye on everyone like a hawk. It was then when I approached him for a chat and it was there when we had our first "long" (any uninterrupted conversation that lasts longer than 10 minutes is long) talk. He told me lots of things about him that I didn't knew before and let me tell you, it was wayyy too overwhelming.

OH MY GOD IS AN UNDERSTATEMENT.

At that time I was all like ok, blah blah blah, yaddi yaddi yadda until I called my parents overseas the following morning and asked me what I did the night before and who was I with blah blah and I told them and they were all like blah blah blah yaddi yaddi yadda that name sounds familiar because they read the BBC website blah blah blah yaddi yaddi yadda.

Normally I don't give a damn about things but I would be a complete and utter hypocrite if I said I REALLY didn't care a little bit. Of course I cared. A little bit. I think it was inevitable for me to care. I'll be honest -- I really do question myself at times how the hell do I meet all these people and I couldn't figure out the answer. If you put someone in my shoes, anyone with half a brain would realize/feel what I'm talking about at one point. What do you do when you find yourself in a place where you're different? In this life, people are born/raised a certain way; some have a lot of things in common while some have a lot of differences. That's just the way it is. Bottom-line is that none of it really matters and it's best to let things be the way they are because there's always people out there who make an effort to find a common ground where they can relate to each other. AM I MAKING SENSE? It's soo hard to explain. Ugh. In any case, I look at it as a learning experience. How many people do you know venture out to places and situations other than their own?

Going back to Tarquin, OH MY GOD aside, that's when I knew damn, don't let the exterior fool you -- he's really genuinely nice. In spite of the little chat that we had, there's always that distance and it's perfectly alright though that stone-cold bitch fear was gone. HAHAHA!

The last time I saw him was at this club and I came up to him, on my own, to say hi.

I went back to the third world blah blah blah yaddi yaddi yadda. Fast forward a few years later, out of nowhere, I got a note from him letting me know if ever I go to his part of the woods, I should pop him a little note so we can have a few drinks etc. With everything that has been said and done, I thought it was very sweet of him and it was a thoughtful gesture as it's always nice to hear from people.

That was the end of it, really.

And then comes his book.

He's human!

HE'S HUMAN!

HE'S FUCKING HUMAN!

Fine.

I know I'm exaggerating here (like I do with most things; I'm an expert haha) but I really don't know a lot about Tarquin other than the exterior: he is very well-dressed, have impeccable manners and a truly refined taste. When I read his book, I saw what he was up to all after all these years, pictures and all. It was soo raw and soo intimate.

He's basically living the dream I've always wanted to do but my resources (I should say LACK OF) is prohibiting me from doing so: to move to a magical place halfway around the world (though personally, I wouldn't pick Tokyo because it's wayyy too expensive for me and even if I sold my flesh for $3 in Harajuku or Cho-cho san whatever, it won't be enough to buy myself a can of coke let alone live there), be fully independent, to start over from ground zero as a personal challenge and to fully immerse oneself in a new + completely different culture other than yours. It's very, very, very inspiring.

I think people these days have everything too easy. We live in times where a lot of people are afraid to get out of their comfort zone because almost everything that we want (and I'm not talking about material possessions here because clearly I do not have that crocodile Birkin yet haha) is given to us in lightning speed and we take the small things (THAT MATTER) in life for granted wayyy too easily. Heck, I think I already have things WAYYYY too easy so imagine what it's like for people who have WAYYY more than me and have everything EASIER, move somewhere at a drop of a hat and live differently?

I spent three hours reading it from cover to cover and it shattered pretty much all of my "first impressions" about him.

That's all I have to say.

I already shared wayyy too much I don't think I'll ever have the face when I see him again, which, I think, given the present circumstances, probably won't happen. Whatever.

This entry is wayy too long I already smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. I'm out. I need oxygen!

The main thing is... it's a big, big, big world out there and people are giving up so many things to fulfill what they really really REALLY truly want in life to find true happiness. I want to be one of those people. Based on the pictures in his book, I've never seen Tarquin look soo happy and contented. It's in his eyes. In his cheeks. In his smile.

Oh and please don't bother asking me for the title of the book because I bought the last copy at the bookstore. I won't tell a single soul, not even my own mother. Some things in life are best kept as secrets.

I love you all :)