Diary of an Asian Kid

31 Jan 2011

31 January 2011, Monday

Sometime after ten, Alice called to change our meeting time from noon to half an hour earlier. When I woke up a bit more completely, I realized that we had to take either the MRT or a bus to get there. Mom told me there are no direct buses to the Art Museum (which is, incidentally, in the middle of the Flora Expo), so I decided to take the MRT. The bad thing was, Alice's home is quite far to either of the stations near here, and she can't even find my house although she's been here plenty of times (hopeless sense of direction. She says it's in her genes, her mom was the same way). I came up with the brilliant idea to borrow Mom's bike and carry her.

My plan worked out fine, though I had only recently learned to carry people on bikes and wasn't quite used to Mom's bike (I much prefer mine. It's easier to control, and lighter. Oh, and more expensive, of course). We took the MRT to the required station alright.

While we were waiting for the MRT to come, Alice tried to tell me everything she remembered from the conversation with Christopher the day before. This is from when she tried to pester the truth out of him:

Her: Come on, tell me! Haven't you heard that curiosity kills the cat?

Him: Well, you're not a cat.

Her: People have often said that I look like a cat. I'm dying of curiosity here!

Him: If you're really dying of curiosity, I'll swoop over there and rescue you, okay?

Her: No, it's not! You're like a girl! If you're a man, tell me!

Him: Fine... [Proceeds to tell her the hints from yesterday]

As for the other bits, well, none of it looks good. Christopher is seriously weird, I think. Anyway, one possible thread of reasoning is that he liked Alice because he sensed that she probably used to like him, but has also sensed that she does not like him now, and consequently is trying to get over her. But he's also said that "This thing will still continue even after you've gone to America". Whatever. I'm seriously uncomfortable enough without trying to second-guess him.

Back to the present. When we got out of the station, we could see the white blocky museum in the not-so-far-distance. However, we discovered, much to our dismay, that the way is completely blocked by the Flora Expo. We ended up taking a free bus there.

Alice had no money from her mom because she didn't finish cleaning her homework table, apparently, so she had to sneak an apple and some bread out of the house. I had a small slice of tiramisu and a mug (yes, it came in a mug) of seafood chowder at a restaurant in the museum.

The exhibit wasn't really interesting, so we finished looking at everything in around half and hour (good thing the tickets were free) and went on to the souvenir shop.

There, Alice started telling me to buy Christopher a gift. And she offered to tell him I that I liked him. I initially resisted, because I was practically broke and I didn't want to buy anything, but I ended up buying a moderately priced keychain (there was absolutely nothing else that was suitable) anyway.

We retired to the basement food court to think more about the...idea, if it can be termed that. I really, really, really wanted to just be a coward and just forget it, but Alice was insistent. She told me, truly, that I had nothing to lose, and cold logic told me the same. After sharing an expensive cup of cherry yogurt gelato, I gave in.

So now we had to: 1. Buy a small bag or box for the keychain, 2. Write a letter to go with it, 3. Give me a makeover, a.k.a. a haircut, and 4. Go over the things I wanted to tell Christopher.

Horrible. I felt worse than I had ever felt before in my life, and that was just during the decision. I am weak, after all. Well, it's my own life I'm (probably) wrecking. I'm turning out to be a pessimist.

So we took the MRT back, and I cycled us to a stationery shop near my home. I found an acceptable box that I could afford without much difficulty, and we went home.

For some reason, Victor's cello was out and he was having fun running around with the bow. Mom was cleaning up her room. I told her Alice was going to give me a haircut, sparing her the trouble, and went to gather up the things we would need.

In short, I couldn't see what was special about it, my mom though it wasn't neat enough, and Alice was pleased with her handiwork. Well, I don't really care that much. I'm pretty enough, but I'm too lazy to bother dressing myself up, beyond keeping my skin in good shape (and that's only because my eczema used to be really bad, and I had to use moisturizer every day. The habit stuck, though I'm mostly safe from scratching in the winter).

We spent a lot of time thinking about the letter. Here's a rough translation:

Dear Christopher,

Because you couldn't go to the Gauguin exhibit today, I bought you a present, and hope you like it.

Best Wishes,

Your Friend Laurence

It was all Alice's idea, of course. I just looked over it, then tried to write it on a nice sheet of paper with my best handwriting (well, it is readable). Throughout the process, I tried to chicken out numerous times by actually writing in English, but Alice stopped me. Yes, I do want to make sure he doesn't understand a word, but he probably could manage to read most of such a simple English message anyway.

When we finished the horrible writing of the not-love-letter, Alice had me list the things I needed her to say. I almost couldn't put it to paper, and much to my embarrassment, kept asking her if I could write it in English (which is the language that I use to think about such things. Well, most of the time). I managed to write down (Gods, it sure looks stupid on paper): 1. I like you, 2. (This was as the insistence of Alice, who says it from personal experience) Would you be with me (as in, dating, but I think this looks less stupid)? 3. E-mail me your reply when you're through thinking about it (Because Alice's going on a week long trip to Japan on Wednesday).

Gods-crap-darn, I think I might have died of embarrassment. I have to remember, though, I have nothing to lose. It didn't help, though, I still felt awful.

What's worse, Alice didn't even manage to contact him today and put me out of my misery. Worst? I still had to clean the house after Alice was gone. Spring cleaning before the New Year. And I can't even tell Mom because she knows Christopher.

Aargh!