Bwargh

Having been galvanised to much gushiness at watching Highschool Musical 3 (musicals make me teary-eyed), I was struck by my inability to understand the largely fairytale teenage romance thrust unto us from Hollywood in the form of Zac Efron's amazingly blue eyes and ripped body and Vanessa Hudgens' sweet little do-re-mi giggles. Perhaps it is because I, myself, have never had a grand romance to call part of my slapdash existence so far, less so a teenage romance. God forbid, I was moved beyond comprehension by the sweetness of it all, the idealism of it all.. all to which I offered a smug "aww", knowing inside that such a romance was doomed to failure. The thing is, I couldn't have been "aww"ing from experience, or knowingness- from where does my cynicism spring?

I think it's just my bitterness at not having (had) something similarly saccharine to pop into my mouth. In the same way people force themselves to sit through horror movies for the kicks, I sit through love stories pissbad and glorious to jump-start that little part of the brain we all have that responds to tearjerky chocolate & flower romances, or to convict myself with the cattiness of my life (ie. doomed to a life alone in a house with many cats). It scares me that I am having such a teeny moment at this, the supposed prime of my life, but watching HSM3 helped me see that teenhood is largely lost in Singapore, and it is in university that the diversity of personalities and sounds and activities resembles anything the singing, rocking, dancing kids of HSM so steep themselves in. 

Call it a quarter-life crisis, but I know there's something I'm not doing right :(