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A Note

I love flowers. I love spontaneity, and pleasant surprises. I'm dainty and ambitious; really. I nurse others. There's more than meets the eye when it comes to me.

 Yours Truly

N A D I A H
200788
ngee ann poly
school of health sciences
Children's Emergency, KKWCH

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Monday, July 28, 2008 5:30 pm
Act on impulse.



Sometimes I wish I can act on my impulses and those irresistible urges and desires that come over me at unexpected times, without thinking of the consequences, without having anything at all to prevent me from doing it.

One of these days, I might want to go for a vacation overseas alone. By myself. Just me, one luggage (or two), one flight ticket, a single bed in the B&B, table for one. Just me and the whole city/country to discover by myself.

I can just imagine myself in dark skinny jeans tucked into black heeled boots, a black and white plaid wool long sleeve under a white pea coat. A pretty vibrant red wool scarf wrapped around my neck brightens the whole outfit. I'm standing at the pavement beside the newsstand, carefully perusing a map of the city/country in my white gloved hands. A book filled with coloured pictures of things to do, places to visit and food to eat is tucked under my left arm.

I swing my gold coloured sling bag that carries my passport, my wallet, a bottle of mineral water, my cellphone, a packet of Werther's Original, a paperback novel and a mini multi-language dictionary, to the back, out of my legs' way as I start to cross the road as the green man lights up, eyes wide taking in the buildings around me, looking for someplace that would give me a clue to where I am on the map. I hold my white beret down on my head as an unexpected cold gush of wind blows my hair back.

While strolling down the street, window-shopping along the way, I come upon a quaint Italian cafe. The row of pretty and brightly coloured flowers that lines the bottom panel of the window and the warm orange lighting in the cafe just lures me to it. A whiff of fresh bread, pasta, a hint of pepper and freshly brewed coffee as the door slowly closes behind the previous customer, further pulls me in. A little bell gave a tinkle as I push the door open. As I step in, across the floor, behind the counter, a handsome waiter looks up from the cash register after handing another customer his change, and smiles, welcoming me in. I vaguely take in the other busy waiters and waitresses that bustles about taking new orders and deftly balancing trays of food and drinks to the occupied tables.

I settle myself in a plush burgundy high-backed cushioned seat by the cafe window as the said dashing waiter, who looks about my age, dressed in a white shirt, black pants and shiny black shoes comes around the counter and approaches me, a menu in his right hand. My heart gives a little flutter as his long legs ate up the short distance between us. His gaze does not waver from me, an easy smile playing on his lips. It feels like a pair of invisible hands has clamped around my face so that I cannot turn my head. His smile widen, almost amused. I blink as he stops at my table and hands me the laminated menu. He pulls out a pad and a pencil from the pocket of his black apron that he wears over his uniform. His name tag is pinned just below the orange stitching of the cafe's name, on his left breast. I look up at him as I gave him my order. From where I am, up close, I can see the genuine smile and the twinkle it brings to his eyes. I can hardly keep a sigh from escaping my lips.

"Will that be all?" He asks with a slight accent that I can't quite place my finger on. With a lifting of my lips that I hope is not pathetically dopey, I nod, "Thank you."

With the slightest of bows, he turns and goes about getting my glass of blended ice mocha topped with cream and chocolate sprinkles, my plate of turkey sandwich and a complimentary basket of crispy garlic bread. I cannot help the tiniest moans of pleasure erupting from my throat.

Sigh..

Back to reality, Nad! Get right back to reality.

Or maybe I'll just go somewhere overseas alone but meet British James there. We'll meet somewhere between his country and mine and have a vacation. Haha. I need a huge scissors to cut this rope of reality tied around my waist. It's tugging at me.

Thus, back to my first point. I want to do things without anything to stop me. Money, time, work, knowledge. It's all a factor in this.

Argh!