i'm actually at a coffee house now. there's free wireless here. so i'm blogging and making observations at the same time. this particular branch of the coffee house is always filled with gay men. yah, the sunday type of gay men who take 3 hours to have brunch with the 'girls'. not that i have anything against them.

but listen to this. right in front of me, there's a gay guy of about 40 years of age. and he's doing 5 things at one time: smoking, eating a salad, checking me out (i'm trying to hide behind my laptop though), checking out the other gay guy (and his bf) 3 seats away from me and telling an awfully gay story.

the gay story apparently involves the words 'dior', 'chanel' and 'so that bitch said'. and 'dior' and 'chanel' were accompanied with faggoty limp wrists that surprisingly still have the energy to hold a cigarette. all his 'girls' are so engaged in his story. it actually reminds me of Truman Capote in the Oscar-winning and nominated movie 'Capote'. Capote sits on an armchair, telling a story to his captivated audience. and it's a story accompanied with limp wrists and a very effeminate lisp of tongue and loads of cigarette smoke. yah, basically, it's almost the same thing here. except that there's wireless and me.

which actually got me thinking about life 20 years down the road. am i gonna be wearing scarily loud and colourful shirts with hawaiian prints, telling Dior versus Chanel stories, puffing my life away on menthol lights and waving my hands about uncontrollably like a Tourette's patient? not that i have anything against such colourful old men. but it's just that i'm hoping that there's more to life than Sunday brunch at 40.

i hope that by 40, i can find a life partner and settle down. maybe a fabulous wardrobe with better choices than what i have now. and perhaps a nice house somewhere in errr... i dunno sweden. then we can go do the entire 'shopping at Ikea with my boyfriend' thingee like they do at Alexander Road.

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