Does any or all of this count as aggregate progress? Maybe, maybe not. My own parents were a part of this trend, as were many middle class Black people who moved to the suburbs, turning out to be the "only ones" on the block, in the schools, in the strip malls. Each side accused the other of abandonment. This article captures some of specificity of those issues, often created by class anxieties and expectations. The traditionals saw the suburbanites as racial sellouts, while the suburbanites saw themselves as new traditionals, following the social and political models set for them in the 30s and 40s (in this case, of integration and desegregation), often risking their physical and emotional lives, and those of their children, to carry on The Struggle. Along these same lines, Adrienne's latest article, cited yesterday, sheds much light on why someone like Condoleeza Rice is doing precisely what she was raised to do, which is basically sit on top of the world, be a mover/shaker, etc. Although she grew up in a segregated world, the mentality was definitively post-segregation,. Not otherworldy, but of this world, in the here-and-now. While the BAP expectation and entitlement issues are paramount, I would add that it's the Preacher's Kid Rice that we see in those Donna Karan suits.

The PK who is singled out, marked as different and outsider by right of their parent's profession. (But then again, so is the town drunk's kid.)

The PK, whose obligations exceed that of the other kids in the congregation, and the broader community. Comfortable in the company of grownups and socially disabled among our peers, we are treated as grownups in children's bodies, and are expected to respond to every situation with the maturity (and often the vocabulary) of adults. Paradoxically, this can often create an infantilizing effect.

New Years Eve

Although everything seemed to be a rush until the final minute when we had to head back to Singapore on National day's eve to celebrate with his friends and mine. Eventually, only Di, Shai and Fidah managed to make it, the rest declaring they didn't even receive the sms. No matter. We would have less alcohol to go around anyways. Wouldn't want to see my bitch and her boo to get less drunk than they were that night.

My b and me had to cross the causeway when we reached the checkpoint cos the bloody queue for 170 was so bloody long. What a unique bunch of Singaporeans we had at the immigration. We were all celebrating Singapore's Independence Day in Malaysia by hordes. Had to lug our bulky backpacks all across the causeway, change our SGD dollars, hop on the bus to Larkin and get on the SVIP express bus to KL. Only it wasn't Express AT ALL. Bloody hell. Got so cheated. Tipah very the tetipu. The driver went off to fetch several people along the way and headed off to Seremban first to drop them off. All the time both of us were playing rounds of tai-tee and laughing to Malaysia's comic, APO magazine. We finally reached KL 6 hours later when we could have been there in 4.

Walked around to see "full house" signs on the hotel lobby doors.. We finally settled for an inn with seperate beds. (I almost wept when my he didn't wanna move the beds. Heh). Reason being, he didn't wanna get the floor dirty cos there's bound to be dust and cobwebs on the carpeting. Moreover, its gonna be shifted when the rooms gets cleaned up the next day anyways. Makes sense, very rational. But I nearly wept anyways.

KL was still the same as we went on New Years'. I thought I knew the streets real well but the man beside me knew better. Took me on dingy alleyways and streets I've never seen before. We purchased a bottle of Johnny walker for the two nights together and proceeded SHOPPING. Kwah kwah.. Finally I have a commentative, critical shopping partner I could call my bf. Rushed back to get ready for Nouvo and yeah yeah, DJ NESH. I didn't wanna get drunk so I went to Buy Tramadol for my back pain, and left him to half a bottle of Johnny Walker and he was as sober as ever. I've had a very bad experience with Johnny Walker but it's real heaven *oops* with ginger ale.

DJ Nesh was still as crappy as ever, if not crappier. He and his stupid spinning and scratching. Somehow the KL-ians love it, reasons my bf and I could never fanthom. Nevertheless the night went fine. The whisky was piss ass shit, but no matter. I was having fun. He was still as sober as you can get on a warm sunny day. (???) Even walking over to Caltex and having a can of Baron's didn't help. In fact, it only perked me up. And I finally got to taste my celup celup after so loong. Bought sticks and sticks of it after clubbing. Btw, Celup celup is an array of seafood on satay sticks pre-boiled and served on a wagon of sorts. There's two pots of boiling water and three types of chilli you could dip in. So all you gotta do is, re-heat-reboil the damn thing, dip yummy chilli and cekik. A ringgit for a stick. It's an after clubbing ritual - maggi goreng or celup-celup along Jalan PRamlee.

Next day was another amazing race of more shopping. Went petaling street and bought (cds of course) clothes, bag for mummy dearest. The only drag bout the whole thing was everything was a rush. There wasn't time for any leisurely walks. Clubbing that night wasn't any different. Wanted to head Zouk and luckily we didn't. Received bad reviews bout it. Singapore still beats 'em way down. Besides, house? techno? Leave me out. I'm into soul and groove and . (Everybody say-"Hip hop or waaat??" kwaaaah kwaaah)

This time b and me were really pissed off with DJ Nesh. I mean, dude!!! How many scratchings do you have to do to prove to the whole world you are good? Well, let me tell you something. You suck. Just play the songs and quit stopping mid-way. At the best parts some more. I can't even perform a proper lap dance for my boo. Asshole. And change the bloody reportoire for godsakes. I could predict the next song with your dying-to-impress scratchings irritating me the whole night. Fucker.Bleah. Lucky there were the celup-celups.

We checked out the hotel early next day and headed for the famous chicken rice store along bukit bintang. The ride back was smooth until we reached Singapore. Was faced with a massive jam along ECP. Stupid fuckers. How many fireworks do you intend to see? There's jolly well gonna be a big bash the following day and you wanna jam up everybody's way with some mini pathetic fire display. BAh! (OK, by that time we were pretty pissed cos we had to RUSH to a hotel, dress up, meet our friends and we were running late) Got a johnny walker and a jim beam for the occassion and we escaped immigration tax for that as well. hur hur.. Weia was supposed to come down with a bottle of absolut. Couldn't wait for that one. And my babi was supposed to come down with a bottle of red wine.

Met the fellas and headed to UE square to drink. Got Fidah high, got my babi and her shai DRUNK. She came and told Rud to get her bf drunk and that was what he did. Weia came with the absolut vanilla and presented it as a bday gift for rud. He poured vodka, jimbeam and beer down Shai's throat. I gave my bitch neats and neats of vodka. (We are the vodka bitches. Drank neat together but she got drunk on me) Bloody hell. But absolut vanill and vanilla coke was heaven. And my tongue got so numb I was slurping happily to my bf's Amsterdam. And it's the most horrible beer in the whole world. Oh well, and what's new- after her neats and her air kencing, (white wine in street translation, piss or urine in literal translation) my bitch got drunk. Go and drink sumore before that lah!! She got so high before coming she forgot to bring her wine bottle, HENCE disappointing loads of eager wine drinkers like ME. (Merajuk gerl gerl) I am still waiting for the wine babi.... Maybe at reggae night along to UB40's red red wine lah eh? Kwah kwah.. CORNIEEE!!! When my bitch got drunk, expect mayhem in the club. When I'm high enough to entertain her, expect people to move away and (girls especially) give us venemous stares. And that was what I heard, no? Babi? Haha.. hip hop or what. No more left right up down synchronization. Kwah kwah.. I missed dancing with her so much. When was the last time we clubbed together? Like eons loh!! We took up so much space, the whole load of us. Such bloody bitches, assholes and pushovers pushing people away for ourselves that night.

Fidah and Cat was high, Sharom became a P.I.M.P that night with the two girls flanking him, I remembered dancing with Nathan and some other guys like I don't even know. One of them even end up making friends with Rud. Haha.. He was busy walking around as he normally does when he clubs. He bought Shai a tequila pullover and got two shots himself (jus cos its his birthday.No fair) Shai got drunk-was dancing like I dunno the term, so enthusiastically with Nathan and Dee. I got Dee, Cat and Fidah to smoke that night.. Haha.. The things people do under the submission of alcohol. (and me of course) Oh well, there were pukings, and slapping sessions (glares at someone), and podium dancings and kissings between a certain F and Mr P.I.M.P. THAT was amusing. THAT scene must have sobered my bitch up so much for her to remember!)

I remembered the whole lot sprawled outside cheeky monkeys, I saw Dee and Shai being shoved into the cab by Nathan, I remembered my feet hurting. I remembered noticing how good my bf looked that night. I remembered loving him so much. Oh well. Live for the day. I remembered waking up the next day feeling all fine. Stayed in the whole day just watching tv, talkin bout the whole trip, moving our asses only when we were too hungry to stay in bed.

We watched the fireworks from our windows and ended the whole thing with Kumar in the house. Bumped into Bert who took a shot from Kumar. (was his birthday on the 10th) Was so tired that night. But everything ended fine and well. The whole was rounded off with a lazing session with Fidah at da beach. And that very day, when he checked out early to head to work was such a heavy one for me. I guessed I was so used to having him around me for the past couple of days. When he walked out of the door, the silence too overwhelming. I kept expecting him to come back like he always did. I guess that's a first time for me. Holidaying with a partner.

And well, bout us-I definitely don't know what the future's gonna hold but if anything were to go wrong between us, I'm glad to have met him even. For making me see my faults staring right at me in the face, for making me accept my flaws (and lowering my super-high ego), for attempting to make me a better person. I have no idea what's gonna happen to us. Maybe he'll walk away, maybe I will. Perhaps we'll stray. But I'll never regret having met him. And for that, I'll like to thank YOU for making that tear gas attack happen on New Year's at Nouvo. Some things happen for a reason. I didn't believe in a thing called fate, but right now, I'm not sure anymore.