What happened in Bali, stays in Bali

I wished I was back in Bali right now. The weather here is driving me up the wall and I hate the layer of sweat that’s constantly forming on the tip of my nose.

The sun-soaked holiday work assignment in Bali was fantastic to say the least. The perfect weather, the ultra-clear beaches, the sinful gastronomic indulgence, the cute Australian tourists – what more could I ask for? Bali was a trip of firsts: The first time I travelled alone, the first time I swam in the ocean at 12 midnight (after drinking a lychee martini, a chocolate martini and two mojitos), the first time I found myself half-naked in a room with a woman I barely knew, the first time I nearly found myself half-naked in a room with a man I barely knew, the first time I had six interviews packed in a row, the first time I ate raw beef, and the first time I asked someone out on a date (and ended up standing him up, involuntarily). In other words, Bali was the bomb (no pun intended). Of course, Shaun would be quick to point out that my mathematical limitations were well on display when I was trying to shop for food or sunglasses at the road-side stalls. “How much is $340,000 divided by 6?” is one question that’s repeatedly asked to the dudes around me.

I ate, and I ate, and I ate, and I ate….

 

And there was a rainbow on my legs, immediately after the spa treatment. Such bliss.

Conversations at Harry’s

“are you korean?”
“no. but you’re not the first to have guessed that.”
“you look korean.”
“i’m not. i’m 100 percent singaporean.”
“i have a thing for asians.”
“you have a thing for asians?”
“yeah. can i kiss you?”
“no.”
“what if i said please?”
“i’d say, no please. or please no. which would you rather?”
he attempts to land his lips disregarding her last statement.
she pushes him away.
“do you want me to kick the hell out of you?”
“oh, yes please.”
“ugh. save yourself the pain, call your girlfriend and ask her to pick you up at the pub’s main entrance. you’ll thank me for it.”
“but it’s my birthday today…”
“oh? it’s your birthday? happy 10th birthday, jerk.”

The gaps, the silences and the golden prayer

I wrote you once the story of the nun who fell in love with the priest. During confession which she went to everyday, there were always only two things she would confess: that she has fallen in love with a priest and that her confession of love was a confession of faith. Her sin was confessing her sin.

For penance the father would ask her to recite the Lord’s Prayer, twice. The first one, only the first half, and the second one, only the second half. The nun thought this to be strange, but did so dutifully. But one day after many moments, she couldn’t resist, and asked the priest why he had asked her to do penance in this unusual manner rather than simply one Our Father. He replied, “the gaps and silences have to be confessed by the other.”