Love Me Knot

You don't know a good thing till it's gone

2011-02-18T00:02:00.000-08:00

I'm feeling the itch to write again, despite thinking that I wouldn't anymore. Unfortunately, my first post in a long while, is a very, very sombre one.

But then again, it has been a sobering last couple of months. So much has happened. Yet so little has truly changed.

I lost someone very dear to me towards the end of last year. He was my age. We were close once. But we had a fight a few years ago and stopped speaking to each other. It was a silly fight over a parking space and some other petty shit I don't completely remember. We never made up. My pride refused to let me make the first move. He too, had pride the size of Africa. Just two weeks before the tragic incident, he passed a very important exam which he had been working really hard for the last couple of years. The family threw a celebration. At the party, I had this urge to just go up to him, extend my hand and wish him 'congratulations'.

But I didn't. I shoved the impulse away. My pride won. Again.

The younger me used to run to him with boy trouble. He never let me wallow in self-pity. I remember, when I was 21 or 22, I broke up with a dude and it seemed like the end of the world. At midnight, I ran to him wanting some comfort. He was already standing outside his place waiting for me. I ran into his arms, he hugged me and just said gruffly 'Forget him'. He then took me out for a drive. We stopped at a friend's house and by 2am I was laughing again.

I took it for granted that we would have all the time in the world to make up.

How was I to know or even remotely anticpate that I would receive an awful call at 3.30am, close to dawn a fateful day in October, informing me that he was gone. I'll never forget that feeling of fear that immediately gripped me and refused to shake off for weeks. I'll never forget the visit to the mortuary with his sister the next morning. Seeing him on that steel trolley, half covered with a black bag, is the stuff of all my nightmares rolled into one tragic, one very real moment.

Of all the clichés in the world, I'm now relating to this one: you don't know a good thing till it's gone.

He was far from perfect. He had a short temper. He had way too much pride. He was a lot like me.

But his life was a hard one since he was a child whilst mine was mostly sheltered. For him to turn out to be all that he was despite everything he'd been through, makes him infinitely stronger, braver and finer than I could ever wish to be. A diamond in the rough. A gem underneath the rough, sometimes coarse exterior. I recognised the gem when I was younger. I lost sight of it in recent years...too caught up with my frivolous wants and demands. I'll probably kick myself for it for the rest of my life.

I miss you my brother. Rest in peace.

Reflections

2010-10-01T03:55:00.000-07:00

Take a good look in the mirror. Do you recognise who you see? I watched a show once where a girl was told to look herself in the eye in her mirror and count to ten. She counted to three and then burst out crying. Of course, it was a TV programme. But that didn't stop me from trying it in front of my bathroom mirror that night.

I think, generally, life can be divided into cycles or phases. Simplisticly, I call them the 'up' cycle and the 'down' cycle. The 'up' cycle is basically when I feel the gods are smiling down on me. Everything fits. Everything feels great. The sun shines. The birds sing. You get the idea. The 'down' cycle is like a rainy day that never ends.

Sometimes these cycles are a direct result of the decisions we make. Sometimes it's something that happens which you have no control over. I guess then that's where the ~~prayer~~ words.. 'God grant me the strength to change the things I can change, the serenity to accept the things I can't and the wisdom to know the difference' seem most apt. The problem with me is, I think I can change everything, the wisdom kicks-in often slowly and thus resulting in acceptance which is often belated.

If our behaviour like Freud said is governed mostly by the unconscious mind, it would mean a lot of the decisions I make come from a hidden place that I am not aware or mindful of. And with that comes the need to blame others for my failures, insecurities, fears, disappointment and hurt. It is so easy to.

Taking responsibility for my own actions is hard. It would mean admitting I was wrong. Something I hate being. It would also mean that I have failed. Not the best place to be either.

I came to a realisation recently, that I may have wasted 3 years of my life being hung-up over a guy who wasn't available. Probably wasn't even right from the start. I have blamed everything about him, from the mixed signals he seemed to permeate, to the things he said and then didn't, and the things he did for me and then to me.

But what about me? What role did I play in the equation. Although I say I want to take responsibility for my part in this, I'm not exactly sure what for? What I do know, is people only treat you the way you allow them to treat you. And I allowed him to get away with a lot. But why? Out of love? Fear? Habit?

The landscape we function in is constantly changing. The people you let walk into your life. And the ones you decide to let walk out. The loss of someone dear to you. The pleasure of new found love. It shifts your outlook, it shifts your behaviours, it moves you out of a comfort zone and makes you want to react in new ways.

For now, I've been moved out of my comfort zone. It's tempting to sneak my way back in. Denial takes centre stage in that zone and it infuses a false warm, cosy feeling. But despite what Freud said, I'm trying to make this a conscious choice.

So here's to strength, wisdom and serenity!

I'm not your Mrs. Right, but...

2010-09-20T03:40:00.000-07:00

As I sat with Mr. P yesterday in front of the TV watching yet another horror flick, guessing who was going to die next, our conversation took a turn to this...

"I'm getting married next year" I say suddenly. (Btw, I'm NOT, I just wanted to provoke a reaction from him).

"What? You're kidding.." he says, looking at me disbelievingly.

"No, I'm not. I'm serious. It's all set. I'm working out the details now."

He's silent. I stare at the TV trying not to laugh. After a while...

"How did this happen?" he asks.

I say as nonchalantly as I can, "Oh, it's an arranged marriage. My mum introduced us."

"You are kidding, right?"

I don't answer. I just smile. Still not looking at him.

"God. You're serious! What the fuck?"

"Why can't I get married?" I ask.

"But why arranged? What..you can't meet someone at a bar or something?" he says mockingly.

"Well, I haven't met anyone 'marriable' at a bar so far.... I don't think that's going to change."

"What dodgy bars do you hanging out at?" he quips.

I smack him.

He laughs. Then says "Well, it is very third world of you... "

"What? Shut up. I'm not getting any younger. And I want a baby."

"I'll give you a baby" he says kissing me at the side of my head.

"Very funny" I retort, "I can't have a baby out of wedlock. Too much of a scandal."

"Then we should get married" he states readily.

But... as soon as he says it, he starts laughing.

Idiot :)

I deserve better.

2010-09-13T21:04:00.000-07:00

I've been repeating these words in my head like a mantra. This past week, it is how I greet myself in the mornings. I wake up and my mind, as a habit, starts thinking about him. But instead of allowing myself to wallow in some sentimental, nostalgic thought, I shake it off and tell myself, I deserve better.

Because you know what? I do.

I mean I know this. It is not an overnight realisation. It is not something that just suddenly came to me. I know this. I demand quality in almost all aspects of my life. My family, my friends, my job, where I live, the places I eat.

I work hard and I get paid well for it. I have been blessed with a supportive, loving family. I mean we have our issues but underlying all that is a steady, unwavering love which keeps me strong even in my darkest moments. And my friends. Think SATC. That is the kind of loyalty I demand and give. I have no time for wayward friends.

I generally eat well. I take care of my body (though I probably should exercise more). My studio is cosy and comfortable because I've made it so. I love going back to my place to unwind after a long day at work. I've filled it with photographs of happy memories, little plants, plenty of books, my travel artifacts and scented candles. The rent is costly, but I pay it because I deserve a good place to live. I bought myself a nice car because I wanted one to drive around. I buy myself gorgeous shoes because I basically deserve those little treats. I spend money on manicures and pedicures and facials and spas and little holidays because I deserve all of this.

So why is it, when I demand for so much from basically all aspects of my life, do I settle for so little when it comes to a boy? Why do I make excuses for him and tell myself it is OK that he did not show on the day we were supposed to meet to have our 'talk'? Why did I so readily accept his apology the next day when he claimed 'some things came up'... when I knew he was deliberately avoiding me? Why did I excuse his behaviour based on some bullshit that I've been fed that says guys hate confrontation and so it makes it OK for him to not show? Newsflash - I hate confrontations too, but I'm willing to do it because WE FUCKING HAVE ISSUES TO RESOLVE!

And that's just the tip of the iceberg. Talking to a friend last Thursday showed me just how many excuses I was making for him. All to justify me continuing to see him, talk to him and be with him. The cherry on the icing has to be when I told her "You know, I feel if I gave up on him, there might not be anyone else who'd really be there for him. He is that isolated."

She looked at me and said what any good friend would in that situation "Babe, that honestly is his problem. You should take care of yourself first, don't you think?"

Succinct. And wise.

So, no doubt he has been my friend. No doubt he has cheered me up when I was feeling down. No doubt we have fun when we are together.

But, we have crossed lines that friends should not have crossed. We have said and done things which make a platonic relationship impossible. All that loving in the dark, forbidden touches, whispers of sweet nothings, only to be greeted by the harsh light of the next day, where he pretends I didn't spend the night in his arms and I pretend it's fine, because I don't want to bloody rock the boat - it is not what I want.

Because guess what, I fucking deserve better.

Excuse me while I go find my manners...

2010-09-06T02:43:00.000-07:00

Look up manners in Wikipedia, this is what you'll read: In sociology, manners are the unenforced standards of conduct which demonstrate that a person is proper, polite, and refined. They are like laws in that they codify or set a standard for human behavior, but they are unlike laws in that there is no formal system for punishing transgressions, other than social disapproval. They are a kind of norm.

Last Friday I found out, that I am anything but 'proper', 'polite' and 'refined'.

I was at a bar that night with my friend R and some of his friends. He was helping me scout the area for cute guys while I was pointing out all the hot girls there to him. It's a little game we play...after we point someone out, we rate them a 'Yes', 'No' or 'Maybe'. If he/she is a 'Maybe', then we spend a few more minutes observing the person until they fall into the 'Yes' or 'No' category. After that, we try talk each other into walking up to the 'Yes' people to say 'hi'. It's a silly game. He's managed to convince me to walk up to one dude so far. I've not been successful with him.

But anyway, I digress.

So, that night R and I walk to the bar and I notice this guy looking at me. He looks vaguely familiar but not so much. Besides, I'm distracted because I'm choosing what I want to drink. The guy comes over and says "Hi. How are you?"

R scoots off thinking I just got picked up.

I'm left there thinking at the back of my mind that I know this guy, but I'm not sure. Partly because, if he is the guy I think I know he doesn't seem as good looking. The hair looks different somehow. And his face... I thought it was a little squarer than this. And this guy definitely looks older... (Note: Guy is still standing there smiling at me.)

I look up at him, intending to say... "Hi. Do I know you from somewhere?"

What comes out of my mouth is... "Hi. WHO are you?"

What the..? All the manners taught to me growing up just got flushed down the drain. Right there.

Thank god he laughed. Saying something like "You sure get straight to point, don't you?" His mum definitely brought him up right because he had his manners intact.

Turns out I did know him. But not so well. We went to the same college eons ago. Explains why I thought he looked older.

We shook hands. I offered an apology for my social ineptitude, chatted with him a while then sauntered off after my friend. Who laughed right at my face when I told him what had just happened.

To list or not to list

2010-09-02T03:37:00.000-07:00

I have finally decided to broach the topic of 'our friendship' with Mr. Stupid. Yes, I know, it seems a tad bit belated or slow or whatever. But the thing is I hate confrontations and we've only started being civil with each other again this year despite little upheavals like when he started dating Ms Gab-A-Lot.

I didn't want to rock the boat.

But now I don't want to not address the fact that we've crossed over to the 'more than friends' zone more than a few times this year.

It is confusing. And frustrating. And irritating.

So we've decided to discuss it like adults. I suggested. He agreed.

And now I'm freaking out.

I'm better with words when I write out what I feel. Verbal confrontation just makes me nervous.

So I've come up with a list which I am going to carry with me on the day of the ~~confrontation~~ discussion, basically to steer me the right way and so I won't forget what I came to say because I got nervous or angry. (I can just imagine his face when he sees that list)

Anyway the list looks something like this:

So, how crazy am I going to look? :p

Groundhog Day

2010-08-23T02:02:00.000-07:00

So, from the 3 questions I received from Lifebeginsat30ty's Blogger Santa project, I've chosen to write about a day in my life that I wouldn't mind re-living over and over again.

The thing is there are so many days to pick from that I had a hard time pinning it down to one. I mean I’ve had so many fun-filled days where I felt like I was at a theme park trying to pick which ride to go on next. So many memorable days as well, where the guy I liked kissed me for the first time or told me he loved me too or made love to me so sweetly that I never wanted it to end.

But when it comes down to actually choose one day, I pick a day, which at that time, signified a possibility… a chance at something potentially wonderful happening in my life…

The day starts with me waking up to find myself in his arms. I stiffen at first at the unusualness of the situation. Then a warm glow passes through me as I realise whose arms I’m in. I stay there basking in the warmth of his embrace as I try to recollect how we got here. The last I remember he’d tucked me in his bed and although I had drunkenly asked him to stay with me, left the room to go sleep on the couch. He must have changed his mind sometime during the night. I smile to myself.

I feel him stirring. And I close my eyes, pretending to sleep. He shifts. He’s probably uncomfortable as my head is resting on his right arm. So I turn towards him and find him looking at me. I smile. His eyes crinkle as he returns my smile.

He then gives me a tickle and jumps out of bed before dashing into the bathroom. When he comes out, he slides back into bed next to me. I smell peppermint on his breath. I know what’s going to happen next, so I follow suit. I wake up to freshen up, brush my teeth and apply some Body Shop shea butter to my lips.

I come back to bed and lie next to him. He’s switched on the TV and I pretend watching it for a while but his fingers moving up and down my arm is distracting me. I turn towards him and he looks at me for the longest time before his lips close down on mine. It’s not exactly our first kiss as I kissed him the night before (drunkenly). But let’s say it’s our first proper kiss.

We stay in bed for the most part of the day, just kissing. We take little breaks from kissing when he orders us some lunch from McDonalds and we eat the lunch not leaving his bed. But other than that we just kiss and kiss and kiss. He doesn’t grope me. He doesn’t try get into my pants. He just kisses me. His hands move under my shirt a few times but stop short from touching my breasts. I’m not sure if he’s teasing me or taking it slow.

We hardly exchange any words. Seems as though words just aren’t necessary. With our bodies glued, our lips entwined do all the talking for us.

It starts getting dark outside, and we get hungry. He asks me if I’d like to eat. I say yes, but we alternate between kissing each other and just lying there, me in his arms, as though reluctant to leave the bed.

Finally, we do get out of bed. I shower and change out of his shirt which he lent me the night before. We decide to go for Chinese. I check the time, it’s almost 10pm. We’ve spent an entire day in bed just kissing.

As we walk into the restaurant our hands brush each others. We order this spicy chicken dish which I love which comes with curry leaves and some rice. Sitting opposite him in the restaurant, as we wait for our food to come, I look at him in a whole new light.

Yesterday, he was just my friend. Today however, he may be infinitely more.

She's just not that into you!

2010-08-11T19:32:00.000-07:00

Fine, I'm not that into you...

a) when I don't pick up my phone when you call. And no, I am not playing hard to get.

b) when I don't return your texts. Its mostly because I don't think it's necessary for me to report to you on my day and also probably because I don't have an appropriate response when you text me 'hey, how you doing?' when I'm in the midst of a meeting or I'm pulling my hair out trying to meet a deadline. But it could also be because I just forgot. Yes, that's how little you cross my mind.

c) and when I do return one text after your three incessant ones, it is only because I'm being polite and hate to see you be so pathetic. And if my text says 'hey, been busy. talk later' I don't really want to talk later, I'm just procastinating, and I'm hoping you're not so thick to not take a hint.

d) but if you are that thick and take my 'talk later' text as an invitation to call me later, please refer to (a) above.

e) when I tell you I'm not looking for anything random or otherwise right now, I'm basically telling you to back off. Leave me alone. I'm just not into you. Of course I'm looking for a relationship ~~with the man of my dreams~~, it's just that I don't think you're cute enough or funny enough for me to want to date you and yes, I can make up my mind on that in the first five minutes from when I meet you.

f) and no I don't want to be 'just' friends. I have enough friends. Please don't pretend that you want to be 'just' friends, when it's so darn obvious you want to get into my pants.

Ladies, feel free to add on to this list :)

(now, if only this blog wasn't anonymous...)

Breaking the ice

2010-08-05T03:52:00.000-07:00

It was pouring that day. We decided to have lunch at one of the restaurants outside our building facing the fountains in the park instead of indoors because it was too cold inside with all the air-conditioning. I suggested the restaurant.

The floors were wet and slippery from the rain water sprinkling in. Despite being very careful, I slipped a couple of times. But he was standing close, hand on my arms keeping me steady and he finally said, "I'm starting to think you're doing this on purpose.."

I gave a nervous laugh.

Why was I so nervous?

Sitting opposite him, my stomach was in knots. And I wished I could have had a lychee martini instead of the hot peppermint tea I was having. I would have too, if only I didn't have to get back to work after.

The first five minutes were a little weird. I literally had nothing to say. I stared at the menu pretending to decide what I'd wanted although I already knew. When I finally glanced up I saw him looking at me with a smile.

That smile again. Crap, it was making me more nervous. Why on earth was I nervous. Like I was auditioning to be picked for something.

He asked me then, if I was OK.

Have to stop behaving like I'm sixteen.

I said yes and asked him about his day. He told me a funny story about a colleague of his who had accidentally farted in the meeting room that morning and then tried to hide it by coughing really loud. His colleague was a lady. He then asked me what I would have done in such a situation. I told him there was just no way I would have farted in public.

"What if it was an accident?"

I shook my head. No way.

Then he asked me, "What about in private? Do you fart in private then?"

Everybody farts in private, I said.

"What if there was someone with you?"

Then it's not private anymore now, is it? I told him.

Okay, how on earth had this conversation become about farting and farts?

Instead of changing the topic however, I proceeded to tell him about this episode on Sex and the City when Carrie and Big were together in the bed one morning and she let out a fart. The look of pure wicked joy on Big's face and how she was so mortified she ran out of the room dragging the blanket over her head. How I would kill myself if anything like that happened to me. He said he vaguely remembered watching that before. Not that he watches SATC though he quipped, pulling a face.

I laughed. And just like that, suddenly I wasn't nervous anymore.

So for the next two hours, we sat there talking, eating and laughing as the rain slowly subsided and the sun came out...

Butterflies

2010-07-27T22:54:00.000-07:00

As I parked my car this morning, I noticed a guy get out of a BMW opposite my car. I didn't pay him too much attention as I was late for a meeting. I grabbed my phone and stuffed my sun glasses in my handbag. As I was trying to lock the car door while juggling some folders, my laptop bag and my handbag, my phone rang. I reached into my handbag for the phone, and as I did that, all the other stuff I was carrying just flew out of my hand and landed right in front of the BMW with the papers from my folders strewn everywhere. I started picking up my stuff quickly when I realised the guy was helping me pick up some of the papers.

As I turned around to thank him (and I still don't know how it happened) my heels somehow got tangled with each other and I tripped and landed at his feet. Mortified out of my mind, I looked up to find him crouching next to me with a concerned look. And OH MY GOD, he was bloody gorgeous. A Jake Gyllenhaal in a suit, extending his hands to me to help me up, with a slight smile on his tanned, slightly stubbled face.

"Are you OK?" he asked.

I croaked out a yes. I am not usually a klutz, but the day the universe decides that I am going to be one, it has to be right in front of one of the most gorgeous guys I have ever laid my eyes on.

Quickly getting up with his help, I dusted myself and thanked him... all the while avoiding his eyes. He held on to the papers he helped me pick up and to my hand. Torn between laughter and embarrassment, I said thank you again and this time looked at him as I said it. He had the most amazing smile. I almost tripped again.

He then offered to help me with the stack of papers I was carrying. I said I could manage. He insisted, asking where I was headed. I told him. And what would you have it..he was headed there too. Were the odds finally taking a turn to my favour?

So, I allowed him to carry my papers as we walked together to the elevators. We exchanged names and general work information. Apparently we didn't share the same office building afterall. He was not an employee but a consultant for one of the companies in the building. Crap. He was only going to be around for another month or so, then he was headed to Hong Kong before returning to London, where he was from. Damnit.

His floor came before mine. The elevator door opened. He passed me my papers and walked out. The doors started closing, when he turned suddenly and propped his leg forward to stop them from closing. Flashing another one of his dazzling smiles, he said "How would you like to have lunch sometime, perhaps?"

My stomach felt something strange, something it'd not felt for a long while now.

I said the only thing that came to mind before the elevator doors shut...

"Definitely."

Ridiculously hot women...

2010-07-19T02:21:00.000-07:00

...should not be allowed to roam the streets freely, making the rest of us look and feel bad.

Why can't they just confine themselves to the fantasy world of movies, magazines, reality shows or whatever, where you can have at least a little window for skeptism i.e. she's been photoshopped, it's a body double, ahh.. definitely plastic surgery!

But, when one of these women escape the fantasy world and wonder into your reality, it just makes you question all of god's fairness. See, why on earth was she created with such flawless skin, smooth as alabaster, when your own breaks out every month close to your period. Why does she get hair that is so long and thick and luscious when your own only grows to a certain length and then starts splitting at the end. To top it, you think you might be suffering from premature balding because everytime you wash your hair, the amount of hair that drops from your head after you've applied your conditioner is so not funny and ends up clogging your drain.

You've always thought you have pretty eyes. Received a nice compliment or two on them. But they're nothing compared to her middle-eastern, kohl-rimmed, cat eyed perfection. Her nose is small, straight and perfect whereas yours has a little bump on it because clumsy you ran straight into a tree when you were eleven when you thought a dog was chasing you.

Generally, you like your body. Never had much issues with it except maybe your boobs may be shrinking because the strapless bra that fit you just nice last month feels as though they're dropping off when you wear them now. But she. Oh my god she... has a body that is made for men to drool, salivate, slobber over. She's not the skinny, model-ly type. Instead she has an impeccable ass that seems to defy gravity, boobs which are big and perky enough to fill out a tube dress without looking as though they require a bra to help hold them up and then tops that with a ridiculously tiny waist.

Your wardrobe is a decent mix of work and party clothes which you like but nothing jaw dropping, nothing that would make a man stop and stare on the street. Your clothes make you feel comfortable and look nice enough to maybe fetch an admiring glance or two. Her's on the other hand is downright show-stopping, doesn't seem to matter whether she's just hanging out with her friends on what looks like a casual saturday or hitting the club. And she wears them with this fiesty arrogance that screams 'I know I'm hot. And I know you bloody well think so too!'.

Aah. Its disgusting how insecure and jealous she makes you feel. But you can't help it, especially since you find out the guy you went on this really nice date with, whom you actually liked, is now dating her instead. So, you do the only thing you can do to make yourself feel a little better...

...you console yourself by telling yourself she probably is stupid, has bad English and he is only dating her for her looks!

'Just' a fuck buddy?

2010-07-12T20:35:00.000-07:00

Having just started my new job, I've had little time to date and also blog about it. But I'm slowly settling in, and hopefully will start having more time in my hands.

A quick update nevertheless.

I met up with Mr P a couple of times in the last few weeks. (Note:Mr.P is a photographer I met a long while back, who has a tendency to waltz in and out of my life pretty randomly and unpredictably. Having not developed any attachment to him because of this, I have been okay at keeping everything casual.)

My resolution to keep him only as a 'fuck buddy' however, just got disrupted this morning by me adding him on FB....um....again. I'd deleted him some time back when I thought I was getting overly involved emotionally (and he was not) and I didn't want any updates on his life which might affect me in any way. But having moved passed all that, on impulse yesterday, I requested his friendship again with this message...

"hey. looked you up on FB. again. deleted you before during a childish fit (probably cause you didn't reply a message or something). but i've grown up since ;)"

He's added me already. In the mean time, I got a text from him at 2am this morning...

"Happy birthday. Hope you're not getting laid without me. I didn't realise you deleted me on FB. I'm hurt."

My first thought though was.. damnit. The idiot didn't even realise I'd not been on his FB! And my birthday was bloody weeks ago..!

Controlling my urge to scold him about it, I said instead..."lol. you wished me last week when you met me drunkard. and no i didn't get laid without you. please don't be hurt :p"

Right. So having said that, there were just two things left for me to do...

1) Inspect all his photos which he has been tagged AND his albums.... check!

2) Stalk his wall posts.......and check!!

After all the stalking, I have come to admit, he is an amazing photographer. And trust me to develop a crush on someone over something like that.

Damn. So much for just fuck buddy.

Old. But oh so not wise...

2010-06-21T04:11:00.000-07:00

I turn thirty-one tomorrow. *Gasp* *Groan*

Having touched the Big three-O last year and having thrown a big, huge party for that one, this year, in contrast, is going to be pretty low key.

A quick stock take:

On relationships...

...No husband in the horizon. But fuck that. I can't seem to meet anyone interesting enough to get me even remotely excited to meet on a second date. Why is that I wonder. Either I'm being very picky. Or I'm emotionally unavailable. Or there just aren't any decent men (qualification: within proximity) out there anymore. Or they are married. Gay. Yes, yes, the same old cliche.

...Apparently, I can handle a fuck-buddy relationship. I met Mr.P last weekend for a booty call of sorts. It has been a (long) while. I was horny. He was available. We met on the pretext of catching the World Cup at a bar. Adjourned to my place for the next game, which of course we ended up not really watching. All I can say is, the sex was incredible. I was left sated, satisfied and with absolutely no intention of calling him or expectation of him calling me after.

...4 years ago, I thought I was ready to settle down with my now ex, A. Then came Mr. Stupid. Who pretty much turned my world upside down. And based on recent developments, I have strong suspicion he may not be dating Ms Gab-A-Lot anymore. Which has, of course, made me indulge in some very stupid wishful thinking on my part. Anyway, moving on..

On life in general...

...I'm in a good place career wise. In fact, I start my new job next week. It is going to be challenging and pretty different from what I'm used to, but it's going to be a good challenge I believe. I've done good here.

...I am not spending enough time with family, especially my parents and I should. No one is getting any younger.

...friends are great, as always. Not sure what I'd do without them. Love you guys.

...blogging has given me a kind of escape which is very gratifying. I always feel a little lighter after I've spilled out whatever is on my mind into words. And reading other bloggers going through similar issues, though worlds apart, literally, sort of makes me feel better too.

What I need to do more of...

...exercise.

...make time for holidays.

...oh and have more incredible, satisfying sex hopefully ;)

So yeah, happy birthday to me. Woo hoo.

Should a guy pay...

2010-06-13T23:42:00.000-07:00

...on a first date?

That’s the question I’ve been asking myself ever since I went on a date with another guy from Match.com. I really liked his profile and he had a nice smile (yes, yes I'm a sucker for a cute smile). I’ll call him… Mr. Maybe.

When we exchanged numbers, he called almost immediately. The first time we spoke for about 15 minutes. The next day he called again and we spoke for an hour and half – which was not usual for me. But he was able to converse on a variety of subjects, he was funny and he kinda 'got' me. I was pleasantly surprised. He didn’t ask me out right away which was good – not desperate I thought. And when he did finally ask me out 2 days later, it was very casual and I agreed immediately.

The date itself wasn’t too bad... so much as first dates go. The chemistry wasn’t fantastic but it was enjoyable in a light-hearted kind of way.

He was 25 minutes late, but very apologetic about it. Apparently he had to work at the last minute. There was a que at the restaurant we went to and the only available section was the smoking side so we sat there, next to the bar. He lit a cigarette as soon as we sat but not before asking ‘do you mind’? I didn’t know how to say ‘yes, I do mind’ so instead I smiled and shook my head.

We ordered drinks. And chatted a bit about our travelling adventures. Well, his travelling adventures mostly. He asked me if I’d been to the US…I said no. He then ventured to tell me what a great place it was and gave me a very detailed account of one of his camping trips where he’d almost encountered a bear. The bear story continued for quite a bit, but it was alright..like I said, he was amusing enough. But I couldn’t help thinking that perhaps if he stopped talking for a bit and asked a little more questions, he’d find that I’ve been to some pretty cool places too. Only he didn’t.

We talked some more trivial stuff. Ordered our food. Exchanged jokes. Drank some more. It was 10.30pm, about 2 and a half hours into our date when my phone buzzed. I was supposed to meet some friends for drinks after. I was told that if the date went well, I should bring him along. After a tiny mental battle whether I should or should not, I decided to ask him. I wasn’t having too bad a date and it might be a good time to see if he was cool to hang out with at a club. But he said he couldn’t - apparently needing to take his parents to church early the next morning. I teased him about being a mummy’s boy. He laughed it off saying no, he isn’t... normally.

Then the weirdest thing happened. The bill came. Out of habit, I pulled my wallet out and took out a couple of notes. Usually (in fact, on all of my previous first dates) what happens next is the guy will tell me to put my wallet away and pay. And I allow it because really, as strange is this sounds, I like it when a man takes charge at the end of a date by footing the bill. It isn’t about the money. It is about being a gentleman… and knowing how to treat a lady. Same as opening the door for her or pulling out the chair for her. And no, I don’t expect the guy to foot all the bills for all our dates.. just the first ones, especially when it is the guy who asks me out. If ever we did go out on a second date, I’d insist on paying. If he didn’t let me, then there are things to consider like perhaps he's a chauvinist, which is a whole other can of worms and a topic for another day.

Anyway, what happened here, is that when I took my wallet out, he took the money I offered, added a couple of notes of his own to it and paid the waiter. When the change came, we split the change in half. I was left thinking, that maybe this wasn’t a romantic date after all.. perhaps he just wants to be friends?

After that he walked me to my car. When we reached the car, he turned to me, looked me in the eye, leaned forward and gave me a hug which lingered slightly longer than a 'just friends' hug should. Then he said that he would really, really like to see me again. Hmmm. Definitely more than friends vibe now. It was pretty confusing.

When I reached the club, I threw the question to all the guys who were at my table.. ‘when you take a girl out on a first date.. do you pay for the date?’. Every one of them gave a very emphatic and resounding ‘YES!’.

So, here are my musings...

Should the guy foot the bill on first dates?

And the big question - should I give Mr. Maybe another chance? (He's asked me out already... I'm stalling)

And the men get bitchy...

2010-06-06T19:10:00.000-07:00

I have been ignoring calls and texts from Mr. Cricket and Mr.Texter, both of whom I met on Match.com.

Cricket
Cricket and I went on one date which lasted over one margarita before I excused myself to go home to have dinner… alone. He wanted to meet me the next day but I told him I couldn’t.. making up a really far fetched excuse about having to bathe my aunts dogs. He messaged me the following day ‘So, forgotten about me already? ;)’. I didn’t reply. And I never realised how lame and needy that line sounded, even as a joke - I've used it before on Mr.P, when I hadn't heard from him as soon as I wanted..and this after sleeping with him. Damnit.

Anyway, Cricket called me that night… I just didn’t feel like answering and I didn't. Two days later he messaged asking if something was wrong. I guess I could have told him I wasn’t interested (though I felt I’d given him enough hints.. I mean seriously how thick can you be?). But I wasn’t in the mood to go into discussions of 'whys' and 'why nots', so I told him ‘I’m kinda going through some personal stuff right now. Can’t deal with anything else. I’ll call you.’ Which wasn’t exactly a lie. I had an uncle in the hospital and I was busy chauffeuring my aunts and relatives around. But mostly I was putting off dealing with him, hoping that he’d get it finally when I don’t call him again...ever.

Texter
Texter and I never even got to our first date because his messages were so random and weird and difficult to understand that I just stopped replying. His last message to me despite the fact that I’d ignored 5 of his previous texts… ‘gd mrng gorgeous. hp u hv a wonderful dy..otw 2 wrk?’. I wasn’t even out of bed yet when my phone beeped with this message. It annoyed the hell out of me. I have no clue what runs through someone's mind when they send texts like these..

Anyway, thanks to these two, I hadn’t logged on to Match for a while.. until last weekend.

Apparently, my sessions on Match have been tracked. Both Cricket and Texter who remained mostly silent as long as I wasn’t logged on to Match, once they realized I was still on it, responded in ways I never thought men ever would…

The first was an email from Cricket…

“Guess I won't be hearing from you again. I had already expected it but it would have been nice if you had at least been honest with me.”

Huh???

Dude, we’ve only been on one date…what’s with the drama?

And then, as I was still trying to wrap my head around that email…I realised Texter had deleted me from his Facebook account.

Well, I guess I deserved that.

Sexeducation

2010-05-31T02:13:00.000-07:00

Sex was never a comfortable subject at home when I was growing up. And that’s putting it mildly. When I was 9, I’d just purchased a bookmark from a bookstore and on it was a word I had never seen before. Sex.

So I asked my mum just as we were about to get in the car ‘What is sex?’.

She gave me a horrified look, choked on the drink she was sipping, then demanded angrily where I’d heard the word. Startled by her reaction, I showed her the bookmark I’d purchased and saw her expression change from angry to something inexplicably.. embarrassed? The word ‘Sex’ on the bookmark came below ‘Name’ and ‘Age’. She mumbled something like ‘Oh that just means you write whether you’re male or female’. Slightly hurt that she got angry with me over that, I was silent the whole way home. Her reaction also made me curious. So I remember digging up the dictionary as soon as I got back.

When I was 9, the internet did not exist. I believe, I would have gotten very different answers from google than I did from the dictionary when I looked up the word. It did not tell me anything. My friends at school, and I come from an all girls school, were as clueless as me.

I read my first Mills and Boons novel when I was fourteen. Halfway through the book, I had to stop and look up words such as ‘nipple’ and ‘suckle’ and ‘manhood’ and ‘engorged’. I watched my 1st porno movie at a friends place when I was sixteen. She had stolen it from her brothers porn stash and invited us all over to watch it together after school. We giggled as we watched the actors slowly get naked and start kissing each other…everywhere. I, however, was horrified at the sight of a man spreading a womans leg and licking her there. I didn’t know people did that! But in the end, we agreed it was all very educational.

By now, I knew what sex was, no thanks to my parents or school. Porn tapes and romance novels fed everything I knew about sex at seventeen. It was also the year I shared my first kiss with a guy who was four years older than me, a bad boy of sorts whom I had a big thing for at the time. It was at the last row of a cinema and I gasped when he reached for my breast. He wanted to go further, but I was too anxious and pushed him away. We might have continued as he was pretty persistent in his kissing and his groping, only the movie ended. I didn't meet him again and two weeks later, I left for university, the place that I continued my sex education proper...

First times anyone? ;)

Date # 2...not!

2010-05-26T21:46:00.000-07:00

Date Number Two from Match.com was supposed to be with a guy I’m going to call Mr. Texter. He had a decent profile picture, a cute smile and was nicely skinny. He seemed normal enough in his profile and we had almost identical matches.

But the date never happened. And here’s why…

Mr. Texter and I exchange a couple of emails before I pass him my number. The 1st text I receive,

‘hy gorgeous, tx 4 passin me ya no. hv a nc day’

I’m put off with his texting style. But decide to give him a chance. So I reply him ‘Sure. And thanks, you too’

That night he texts me again asking me if I was free to talk. I don’t see the text till very late and don’t bother replying till the next morning. I say ‘Hey, good morning. Sorry, but I fell asleep pretty early last night.’

I get this reply ‘gd mrng princess. na wriez. conv 2 talk nw?’

Firstly, why on earth was he calling me princess? And, what the hell was ‘na wriez’??

After I took a moment to decipher this, I realize he meant ‘no worries’. Despite the sirens going off in my head, I replied ‘Hey, I’m at work now. Best if you call me after work, say after 7pm?’

He says OK. I just said a silent prayer that he spoke better than he typed and soon was too consumed with work to think about him.

About lunch time, I get a text from him saying ‘hy gal, hws ya dy so far? al gd I hope. js hd lunch. hd urs? ’

Now. Why did he need to know that? We haven’t had a proper conversation so far and he’s asking me about my lunch? I don’t reply.

Anyway, that’s not the worst of it.

Since I’d told him to call me after 7, I was expecting him to just pick up the phone and call. But no, I get another text from him at 10.40pm ‘hy gal, hw ya doin? al gd? conv 2 talk nw?’

I stare at the text. Why was he doing this to me?

Irritated but also curious whether he'd finally call me I replied at 10.48pm, ‘Sure’.

I wait for the phone to ring. It doesn’t.

I get this text from him at 11.10pm... ‘hy gal, u aslp? conv 2 talk nw?’

I am really starting to have second thoughts about this whole internet dating thing….

Am I finally growing up?

2010-05-19T22:21:00.000-07:00

I miss him. And I wonder why I do. So much time has passed and so much has happened between us. Surely I should haved moved on?

It started one night, 4 years ago, when he offered to send me back after a night of drunken debauchery. And I let him. I was in a jubilant state, having just passed one of the most difficult exams in my field and he just so happened to be there to celebrate with me. He was a perfect gentleman, who dropped me home and left without so much as say or try anything funny. I felt safe with him.. and it marked the beginning (and set the pattern) of our little liaison.

We both seemed to be carved out of the same tree... with a common desire to party till we dropped, always on the lookout for the next club to hit as the night was always still young and after which we’d head out to each others place so we could enjoy some quiet drinks with each other after.

It was all very platonic. He was always the perfect gentlemen, never one to misbehave when drunk. Plus, I had a boyfriend at the time. A non-present boyfriend as it was a long distance relationship. Which I guess was the perfect recipe for disaster as I chose this guy to have a good time with considering my boyfriend was never around. Cheating you say? Of course not. I wasn’t doing anything other than just party with him after which he’d drop me home safe. (Ha!)

I called him my party-man.
Soon, party-man started asking me to hang out with him more and more. From parties, it became drinks after work, then dinners and drinks, then hanging out with his buddies, then came the movies and the shopping escapades. I helped pick out the furniture for his new apartment. I was supposed to help him pick out the curtains and also the pictures to adorn his wall. But our drama started soon after, so right now 3 years later, his place is still without curtains or pictures. Trust a man to procrastinate these things.

I initiated our first kiss. Drunk.
I had decided I was breaking up with my boyfriend because I was obviously starting to like my party-man. So one night, after our usual partying circuit, I ended up in his place and was planning to stay the night being in no condition to drive back. I was in his room about to change my clothes when he walked in to see if I was okay. I don’t remember the exact sequence of events considering how intoxicated I was, but he was seated on the bed…I think I had pushed him there. And I sat on top of him and kissed him. It didn’t go further than kissing. We slept in each others arms that night.

And then, he initiated our first kiss. Sober.

The next day, I was lying in his arms, pretending to watch tv but really, I was very conscious of his constant glances at me and the movements of his fingers up and down my arms. My heart was beating like a drum and I was pretty sure he could hear it. Not entirely sure of his intentions, I turned to face him. We gazed into each others eyes for a moment, then his lips slowly descended onto mine.

It wasn’t the best of kisses. Nor was it the worst. It was somewhere in between. Slightly awkward as it was definitely new territory but thrilling at the same time. He wasn’t very pushy with his tongue, which was a first for me because all the guys I’d kissed before loved shoving their tongue into my mouth. Him… he was milder, but not in a bad way. I liked the way he drew my tongue into his mouth and let me explore. It made me feel bold.

Weird how I remember these details.

Our relationship soon after became a haze of dinners, nights out in town and make out sessions back in his place. At some point we slept with each other. Soon, I started spending my entire weekends with him and sometimes, he even dropped me to work on Mondays. We loved each others company and spoke to each other almost everyday. I was travelling a lot then, so when I was absent in some foreign country or other, we’d still keep in touch over the phone, texting or calling. And when I got back, we’d celebrate by going out and getting smashed.

I loved it.

But I also hated it. Because we were doing everything a couple would do, but we weren’t officially a couple. I tried talking to him but all I got was vague responses. It pissed me off.

I would have played my cards very differently if only I was less absorbed in my emotions of feeling wronged and took a little more responsibility for my own actions. I would have played it differently if only I had a little more self-control and didn’t always give in to my whims and need for instantaneous gratification. I would have played my cards very differently if only I had known what I stood to loose.

About 3 months into us doing this dance, I gave him my ultimatum. But everytime something happened or we met each other by chance or at a party, or he called, I’d go back on my resolution to not give in to him. I was weak. Granted, so was he. But I had more to loose than him as I wanted us to be a couple, whereas he wasn’t so sure. In fact, by being so weak, I was actually pushing him in the opposite direction of where I wanted him to go.

I didn’t see this then. I see it now.

Today, we remain friends despite having been through all this drama. Our friendship I have to admit has a lot of undercurrents and sexual tension along with it. Chemistry crackles, conversation flows and time flies when we’re in each others presence without either of us realising it. And we still make each other laugh. I feel there are some unopened doors still left between us. Whether or not we’re going to venture to open them, I really don’t know.

Pretty recently, he’d just started going on dates with someone new. He’s not one to rush into things and is generally cautious (the trait that drove me nuts) so I’m guessing, hoping rather, its not serious yet. Still the thought of him with another woman…well... kinda breaks my heart.

I’m backing off though. It’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. But he deserves a chance of finding out what is it that he truly wants.

Date # 1

2010-05-17T02:43:00.000-07:00

After subscribing to Match.com, I had two dates planned over the weekend but one got rescheduled to this Thursday. So this is the story of how my date numero uno went with... (introducing) Mr. Cricket.

A good start...
Mr. Cricket sends me a message that is funny enough to make me respond although he isn't that much of a looker in his photos. He’s 39 and supposedly fit so hey, what the hell I thought. Fast forward a few emails, he gives me his number and says 'call me or message me if you're brave enough'. Before I can respond, he sends me this email...

'By the way...if you prefer that I call you, please give me your number and let me make the 1st move. After thinking about it, I thought that it was unfair of me to expect you to call when I really should be the one to call you. Until then, take care and have a great week ahead Miss Angry.'

Not bad I think, so I text him and we set the time and date for our little date. He doesn't mind meeting for lunch, coffee or dinner and asks me to choose. I pick coffee (duh!).

I get lazy…
I'd nothing much to do on Saturday, so I pop in a dvd and start on some housework. Before long, I abandon all attempts to clean my apartment and sit glued in front of the TV because the dvd I popped was Spartacus - Blood and Sand, a glorious galore of gorgeous men with the most beautiful bodies and as little cloth to cover it as possible.

So when the time comes for me to get ready for the date, I'm actually reluctant to switch off the dvd player. I start coming up with excuses to cancel in my head…then catch myself and scold myself into getting ready.

The descent…
I arrive on time for the date. Its really hot outside, so I'd chosen to wear a yellow, sleeveless, floral top paired with capri pants and sandals. I wait under some shade in front of Starbucks and check the time. He's eight minutes late. Slightly annoyed, I start typing him a text when my phone rings. Its him. I tell him I'm at Starbucks and he says he’ll meet me there. I wait and soon I see a guy walking purposefully toward me.

The first thing that strikes me as he reaches me: he's dressed all wrong. At temperatures of 36 degrees no less, he's wearing something that looks like a cross between a sweater and a long sleeve shirt tucked into jeans. Uh-oh.

He shakes my hand. Its sweaty and sticky. I notice he looks rounder than his profile pictures. Also, he's bald and I can see the sweat glistening on his shiny, bald head. I'm glad he doesn't move to hug me.

It gets worse…
I decide I need some alcohol to get through this although its only 5pm on a Saturday. So, we go to this little air-conditioned bar and I order margaritas and he has himself a long island iced tea.

I notice he is staring at me a lot. And I think I may have snot in my nose or something. I self-consciously look away and wonder if I should dash to the washroom to check.

Then he says ‘You’re gorgeous. Just like in your pictures’.

‘Why, thank you’ I say. But I really can’t bring myself to return the compliment because honestly, he looked better in the pictures.

The drinks come, and we talk about each others work, always a great conversation starter and I can see he loves what he does for a living as he delves into the details. I’m spacing out when we switch to family and some general stuff like what we love doing in our past time. He talks about cricket with a passion and tells me how he loves the game. I can’t relate. But you can see why he got the name.

Finally, the deal breaker…
I generally don’t talk about exes or past loves on a first date (even on 2nd or 3rds) because seriously, its just bad dating etiquette. Vague remarks or funny one-liners are okay but nothing more than that. But this guy, wow, this guy had no qualms telling me all about his love history starting from the first girl he dated whom his parents did not want to let him marry, to the girl he finally married. And subsequently divorced. And how he was so bitter and angry after the divorce. And how he met this girl from China soon after the divorce and he dated her for 6 months although the girl did not speak any English and he did not speak any Chinese.

I'm like what the fuck?

So, I ask him how he managed 6 months with someone without any verbal communication? He says with a glint in his eye, that they communicated physically and then adds… also with their hands.

Okay. Gross.

He probably catches the look of disbelieve (or disgust) on my face and moves to back track. Saying that she was really wonderful and that she really knew how to treat a man. Cook for him and clean for him. In fact, after a long days work when he came to pick her up, she would give him gentle massages in the car, rubbing his shoulders and ahem certain other parts. I don't ask for details.

The poor man doesn’t realize he's making it worse with every additional sentence he continues talking about this relationship. When I, as casually as I can, ask him, why they broke up?

His response... ‘I wasn’t ready for a commitment…’

I look at him incredulously. That was the reason? Not the fact that they could not talk to each other?

I keep all thought to myself and just smile at him.

Seriously, I think he’s free to enjoy whatever relationship he wishes. BUT my mind had shut off at this point from this date…AND worse was drifting back to Spartacus. I’d rather (in fact couldn’t wait to) get back and watch my TV show than sit with this guy and talk somemore.

The End…
I make a move to leave after our first (and only) drink finishes. He actually looks disappointed and says he was hoping this would turn to dinner. I politely decline. When I get home I receive this text from him…

‘Hi Miss Angry, tat was one of the nicest dates I hav been on. I like that u can meet my gaze ;)’

Sigh. Really?

I finally succumbed...

2010-05-12T02:43:00.000-07:00

...to internet dating.

After some consideration and given the current state of my love life or rather lack of it, I decided to subscribe to Match.com two days ago. And I must say I have been pleasantly surprised.

In the last 48 hours, my profile has apparently been viewed 149 times and I have received 11 emails and countless winks including a wink from a 90 year-old man.

I was curious about the 90 year-old so I viewed his profile and I noticed he had put up around 10 pictures and had a very long write-up about himself and what he was looking for. He stressed on how fit he was and how he exercised regularly. His profile seemed so eager and hopeful that it struck a cord in me. Here is a guy at 90 who is still out there looking for love like the rest of us.

Then I thought, it bloody doesn’t get easier does it?

Dear god, if that was me at 90, I’d want to kill myself. I’d probably want to kill myself if that was me at 40.

Depressed suddenly, I decided to read through all the emails I’d received. Out of the 11, 3 looked promising. Their pictures were alright and the emails funny. So, I replied to all 3 and now I have 2 dates set for this weekend. Which isn’t bad I guess (?)

Then I went to check out the guys who had viewed me. As I perused through the pages, I saw one guy who looked familiar. I clicked on his profile and realized he was a guy I’d been on a date with a while back, whom I thought was incredibly cute but who hadn’t made a move to ask me out after the date. Since I had found him oh-so-cute, I asked him out instead, to which he politely declined claiming some work commitments. So I wrote him off thinking he wasn’t interested. Later my friend who had set us up told me he had met another girl very soon after he went on that date with me and they had hooked up almost immediately.

So, what then was he doing here? And he’d been active in the last 24 hours!

Remembering how cute I’d found him, I asked my friend of his status but she didn’t know. I did the next thing I could think of. I stalked him on FB. His relationship status was back to single (yes, yes I stalked him before too) and the pictures of him tagged with the girl he’d been seeing had been removed. So, was he single again?

Saying a silent whoppee I decided to message him on FB and not on Match though perhaps I should have done it the other way around…

My message to him (when it seemed like a good idea) said…

“Hey. Didn't we meet once through that thing that Miss S set-up a while back? I can't remember when but I know we met at Chilis. Anyway, you popped up in the people you may know thingy and I thought you looked familiar, decided to say hi. So hows life and the dating going? ;)”

He hasn’t replied.

Crap.

I actually wish now I hadn’t sent the message at all. Why did I message him so impulsively without thinking it through? I’m pretty sure now he knows that I’ve viewed him on Match AND that I’ve stalked him on FB (no matter how blasé I tried to make my message sound). Nobody wants a stalker....!

Okay, so tell me what you think… how lame was it of me to message him that way? And should I even be expecting a response?

Sweep me off my feet already...!

2010-05-07T07:14:00.000-07:00

I'm a romantic, still waiting for my knight in shining armour to sweep me off my feet.

In this day and age, I'm still expecting to be swept off my feet.

Here I am, a woman of 30, a professional in the corporate world, someone who makes presentations to the chairman of boards of multinationals and listed companies, who is about to be earning a five-figure salary in a couple of weeks when I start this new job.... wanting, really, really wanting to be swept off her feet.

Am I at the end of the day just a needy, romance novel heroine wannabe, wanting to be saved by the tall, dark and handsome stranger who finds me at my most vulnerable and thinks me endearing enough to fall in love with?

And then, of course, he has to sweep me off my feet.

I'm an idiot.. and he's stupid (part 2)

2010-05-05T20:58:00.000-07:00

He kissed me that night.

And two days later he bailed on meeting me for dinner saying he had other plans he had forgotten about.

When I texted him saying ‘That’s too bad. Was looking forward to it’ his reply was ‘It would have been a great idea if things weren’t getting so complicated. Another time.’

Angry, I texted back ‘If that’s how you feel there won’t be another time. I’ll be out of your hair to make it all less complicated’.

Knowing how he avoided me like the plague when I get angry, I did not expect a response. So I was surprised when 4 minutes later, I got a long text from him saying ‘Think we have some issues. Cause we just can’t be doing this all the time and we have to move on somehow. Just like you, I have to sort my stuff out and since I can’t speak to you about it I am in a bit of a pickle*. So, lets take a step back and see how to sort this out.’

It took me 3 hours to reply. I’d waited till I’d gotten my girlfriend Miss X’s input on this. We tried coming up with an appropriate response over some margaritas. After dissecting the text to pieces, we decided the best way to go would be a short and succinct text that did not show him I’d been affected by what he had said.

So my reply ‘I guess you’re right. Sorry to put you in a pickle’.

I didn’t hear from him for over a week until he called 2 nights ago. He asked me how things were and when I was starting my new job. We chatted a short bit on that. Then I asked him why he called.

His reply… ‘Simply’.

What. The. Fuck.

*I told him not too long ago that I wasn’t ready to be hearing too much about his dating escapades, which me and Miss X decided was what he meant by being in a pickle.

I'm an idiot.. and he's stupid

2010-04-27T19:31:00.000-07:00

“I chose to be with you now, didn’t I?” Mr. Stupid told me when we were standing at the bar in the club we had just entered. Slightly appeased, I smiled at him.

But the events of the night came flooding back and my smile faded. What started as an ordinary Friday night, having a couple of drinks with a bunch of friends turned into something I hadn’t quite anticipated happening, at least not so soon.

I met the girl Mr Stupid was dating.

At first it was a bunch of us seated together having drinks, including a close friend from work, her boyfriend, my ex-boss, his friend. And Mr Stupid. Soon everyone left and it was just me and Mr Stupid. I was sipping my mojito when he ordered another round of his whisky with water and we were talking about something I cannot remember, when suddenly out of nowhere this girl comes up to us and plops herself onto Mr Stupid’s chair practically falling on to his lap and gives him a huge hug. Ignoring me for the first few minutes, she talks loudly and fast with him. I’m a little taken aback, so I sit back and watch the whole scene in front of my eyes. She was pretty, I’ll give her that.With long curly but a little unkempt hair and minimal make up (was this his type?). But she was wearing a pants with a ridiculous length, hovering somewhere between her mid-calf and her ankle. I was glad I was wearing a dress. Then I caught myself. What the hell was I doing?

And boy, could she talk a lot. I saw Mr Stupid shift in his chair, was it discomfort? Still talking to him, she turns to me and then says, “Oh sorry. Hi! I’m Miss Gab-A-Lot” and extends her hand to me. I shake her hand and give a smile I’m not feeling and say, “Hi. LittleMissAngry”. She smiles back, turns and continues talking to him. She seems a little too excited and the glass she’s holding follow her hand movements precariously, till it slips out of her fingers, spills half its contents onto his trousers, my dress, pantyhose and shoes (I was sitting pretty close to him and she had somehow managed to plop herself between us) before it went crashing to the floor. She gets all flustered, crouched to the floor trying to clean it up when I realize she’s drunk.

Oh (!)

Her friend comes to get her, while apologizing to Mr. Stupid and me. I dismiss it with a smile and she’s gone for the moment. I turn to Mr Stupid and ask him “Did you know she was here?”.

He says “Yes”.

Before I could continue, I feel a tap on my shoulder. I turn around and it is her again. She asks me.. “So, you’re MissAngry?” I say yes. She asks the same question again to which I say yes again. Then she goes “The MissAngry?”

I’m not sure how to respond, so I smile and nod. The she says “Ah. I’ve checked you out on Facebook!” and she turns and walks away.

I turn to Mr Stupid and give him an incredulous look. “Seriously?” I say.

“She’s a little drunk” he says almost apologetically.

“You think?” I said. “And you knew she was here! When were you planning to tell me?”

“I don’t know. I did not anticipate that happening” he said. He looks caught between disbelief and amazement.

“Well, it did. And my shoes are wet and sticky. I cannot believe this. Did you plan this? Having two women in one night? Was that the plan?” I say harshly my anger building up. “She bloody ruined my shoes!”

“I’m sorry. Obviously, I didn’t plan this. And I obviously can’t handle two women in one night…” he said trying to make a joke out of the whole thing. I give him a blank stare.

“I want to leave” I said.

We left the spot, (and to my amazement) he still went over to say goodbye to the drunk lady friend of his…but not before asking me “Do you mind if I go over and say bye to her?”

Idiot.

We left the spot, and went to another club in the same building. He got me a glass vodka because I told him I needed another drink to erase whatever had just transpired. And then it hit me, what if he wanted to be with her??

Feeling sick to the stomach, I asked him “Hey, do you want to get back downstairs? I mean if you want to go back there, its fine. I’ll leave.”

To which he said, looking me right in the eye “I chose to be with you now, didn’t I?”

And I stood there, relishing the moment, thinking that at least for now, I had him all to myself.

Age is just a number (?)

2010-04-20T23:03:00.000-07:00

One of my closest friend Miss X called me up the other day, depressed. Her mum and aunt are trying to set her up with a guy, basically get her to go on blind date with him. Her aunt mailed her a picture of him. He's 37 which is not a bad age for a guy but when I asked Miss X what she thought of how he looked.

"You know how some guys who are about that age..say like Mr. Stupid (who btw is 36 this year) but don't look it? Well, he's not one of them. He actually looks 37, " she said.

"But how is a 37 year-old supposed to look like?" I asked.

"I don't know! But we go after men who look like guys not men who look like MEN," she said. "And this one looks scarily like a MAN! He's got glasses, wearing one of those silky shirts and looks serious. Basically he looks like a 37 year-old man not a 37 year-old guy."

"But that's not all" she continued "The date on the photo was 2004, which means he looked like this when he was freaking 31!"

I had to laugh but I didn't know what to say to that. Thinking about it now however, I'd day how do you trust someone who shares a picture of himself (and I'm sure to their best interest they would want to share the best picture they've got) which is 6 years old? So what, he hasn't taken a decent picture of himself since? That's a huge flapping red flag if you ask me.

But anyway, I digress. The point I'm trying to make is... 3 maybe even 2 years ago, Miss X and me, we would not have been so obliging to our mums setting us up this way. In fact, we would have been downright hostile. But here we were, a bunch of 30 year olds, actually succumbing to the pressures of society or rather pressures of family, specifically, our terrified mums.

Not to mention certain aunts who, despite their best intentions, make us feel like total crap when they tell us how small the pool is for girls over the age of 30.

But is it just about the age? Is there really a stigma attached to someone like me, who's touched the big 30 with no man in sight? Or are our mums and aunts over-dramatising their concern? And when they convey their concerns, it seems to me, everything is so black and white. You meet a guy. You like him. He likes you. You get married. Happily ever after.

But most of the time, I'm stuck in grey. For example...

Scenario 1
I meet guy. I like guy. Guy seems to like me but guy is commitment phobic and runs the 100m dash (in the opposite direction) when I tell him I like him.

Scenario 2
I meet guy. I like guy. Guy likes me. We kiss and make-out a couple of times. Find out guy also likes 5 other girls.

Scenario 3
I meet guy. I like guy. Guy seems to like me. We go on a date. Then guy never calls.

Scenario 4
I meet guy. I don't like guy. But guy likes me. Guy calls me everyday. And when I don't answer guy texts incessantly till I call guy a psycho and ask him to bugger off.

And so on and so on.

Okay, I'm going way off tangent here. What I'm trying to say, I think, is, "Mum, I know I've turned 30 way faster than you wanted me to. And as much as you want me married and start making babies.. it does look rather bleak right now, and you may have to wait a while before it even remotely starts looking possible.."

Right. If only I could gather the nerve to tell my mum that to her face.

Crime and punishment

2010-04-11T23:21:00.000-07:00

I got a text from Mr. P two days ago. It read "Are you in your hometown?"

I stared at the text for a while trying to figure out why would he ask me this when we hadn't spoken in ages. After a little mental back and forth I replied "No. Why?"

"I'm headed there now" was the reply I got.

I was tempted to reply "So?" but I held it in.

I don't get it. I don't hear a peep from this dude in ages and he wants to know if I'm in my hometown so that..what.. he could get a city tour?

I would have been exasperated a while back with this behaviour from him. But now, its just midly perplexing as to why he thinks I'd be interested in knowing he was headed to my hometown.

On a completely different note, over the weekend, I decided to move out of my comfort zone of reading only fiction to reading something well.. other than fiction. I found myself in the Sociology Section of the bookstore when one book title caught my attention. Mysogyny: The World's Oldest Prejudice. Jack Holland writes about men's hatred towards women from the early ages BC during the Greek and Roman times till the dawn of Christianity. About how, while God created something as grandiose as the universe he (?) at the same managed to think about the little details such as giving promiscuous women a bad hair day (apparently if you have sex out of marriage - your hair will fall out).

Anyway, thanks to me trying to move out of my comfort zone, I woke up this morning sweating and shaking. I dreamt that I was being dragged kicking and screaming, wearing close to nothing down my apartment hallway by a bunch of men in all black with long hair and beards covering their entire faces. One man (who god-knows-how) had the keys to my apartment walked in on me pouring myself a glass of wine after a long day at work. I'd just stripped out of my work clothes which were strewn on the floor and all that was left on me was my lacy black underwear (something similar to what I'd seen in La Senza). I'd started uncorking the cork when this huge dude barged in on me yelling over and over again that I had committed a horrendous sin. I was caught drinking alcohol and so I needed to be punished. And to top it I was wearing sexy underthings which meant I was intending to have sex which meant the punishment was death since I wasn't married.

I tried running but the place was suddenly filled with all these men in black grabbing my hands and legs. They dragged me out of my building and suddenly we were in this vast field and there was a high platform which looked very unstable and a rope hanging from the sky.

In my dream, I remember repeating to myself as the horrible men were dragging me up the platform.. 'I should have been married.. I should have been married... I should have been married..' as if that would have saved me.

I woke up in a start when my alarm rang and the noose from the rope had just started tightening around my neck. I didn't bother snoozing, grabbed the book which was on my nightstand and chucked it under my bed.

Still slightly shaking, I stood under my shower and thought to myself, that what I had just dreamt about actually did happen to someone a 1000 years back and in some parts of the world today, probably still is.

Love always wins

2010-04-08T19:30:00.000-07:00

"Have I told you about the tension of opposites" he says.

"Tension of opposites?"

"Life is a series of pulls back and forth. You want to do one thing, but you are bound to do something else. Something hurts you, yet you know it shouldn't. You take certain things for granted, even when you know you should never take anything for granted."

"A tension of opposites..like a pull on a rubber band. And most of us live somewhere in the middle."

"Sounds like a wrestling match" I say

"A wrestling match" He laughs "Yes, you could describe life that way"

"So which side wins?" I ask

He smiles at me. The crinkled eyes, the crooked teeth.

"Love wins. Love always wins."

-Tuesdays with Morrie
Mitch Albom

Fools in love

2010-03-15T04:57:00.000-07:00

I was talking to my friend last night. She’s with a guy who appears not ready to be in a committed relationship. His excuse is that he is focusing all of his time and energy to his work. Relationships require too much effort and he just cannot afford it right now. If that is not an indication of a guy who’s not ready to be with you, I’m not sure what is. But my friend, who despite wanting more from him, is meeting him for drinks this week. She is aware of all the facts, but she just likes him too much to refuse.

Are we all fools when it comes to love?

I’m trying to maintain a platonic relationship with a guy I thought I loved a while ago. But if all I want is to be just friends why does the idea of him being with someone else make me feel that someone has punched me in the stomach? And why is it that whenever Lady Gaga sings her bad lyrics ‘I don’t wanna be friends…want your bad romance’ I find myself bopping my head, nodding and agreeing and thinking of only one person in particular.

Sometimes I wonder, is love really so complicated or am I just making it so. Do I only want what I cannot have? Am I only after the chase? Why is it that almost always the anticipation of my time together with someone feels better than the reality of it? And then why does it again seem better on hindsight? Is it nostalgia - making it more romantic than it really was? Every time we put pen to paper, we are writing on hindsight, riding on something that has already happened, something in the past. And when we write it, do we embellish, making what was only mediocre seem more special than it truly was?

Love should be experienced and not just felt, I read that somewhere. But in most of my past relationships I feel I’ve only felt it, either anticipating something that is going to happen and then thinking about it fondly on hindsight. Was it because the experience in itself was so fleeting? In all honestly I can only think of one time when I truly felt I was experiencing love. My then boyfriend was sitting at the computer trying to get some work done and I was sitting on the couch next to him trying to read. I looked up to find him frowning, deep in concentration. Wanting some attention myself, I went up to him and sat on his lap facing him. I remember him smiling then gently pushing my head to rest on his chest where I could hear his heartbeat. I closed my eyes and allowed him to continue working. The love I felt for him at that point was so overpowering that I made a mental note to never forget it. And I never did.

Is it sad that I can only recall one such incredible moment of love? I’m sure I have experienced others, it’s just that I can’t recall them. Fleeting moments passed by, never to be relived or felt again the same way.

And we keep putting ourselves out there, going on dates, meeting new people trying to make a connection, trying to recapture the feeling of being in love with someone who could possibly make us feel those moments...again.

And therein lies one of my biggest fears - what if I don't?

These moments are so rare, so few and so fleeting – it just does not seem enough. I feel I’m missing out on something bigger. There must be more to love than these rare, few, fleeting moments. Otherwise, I’m thinking.. love is overrated.

Running on empty

2010-03-11T03:45:00.000-08:00

My mum's on vacation so the date I'm supposed to go on with the guy (lets call him Mummy's Boy), the one my aunt is setting me up on has been postponed.

On the same note, my love life is down to a zero because...

...Mr. P, the photographer who used to at least keep me occupied in bed has disappeared completely into thin air.

...I am so bloody good at maintaining a platonic relationship with Mr Stupid that no lines have been crossed.

...I have not met anyone interesting in the last 3 months worth going on a second date with.

If this carries on, this blog will die a sad, miserable death. Like my love life.

I need a spark. Soon.

I'm being set-up

2010-02-20T00:44:00.000-08:00

My mum is setting me up on a date.

I cannot believe I've reached a point in my life where my mum thinks she needs to interfere with her daughters dating life for fear of having her daughter become a middle aged woman without a man in tow. She's obviously fearing the fact that having touched the big 30, I'm still without a husband prospect in sight. 30 is ancient in her books to be without a man and to top that she's gone beyond hinting that she'd like to be a grandmother.... soon.

I love my mum. But I am glad I live a whole 2 hour distance away from her, thus limiting our face to face confrontations about my love life. She manages to get her messages across over the phone though. Its maddening when I've had a perfect Saturday all to myself, lazing in bed with the nicest book and even nicer music in the background, only to have the magic broken with a call from my mum exclaiming "What? You've been in bed the whole day?" like its the worst sin in the world before adding "How are you expecting to meet men if you lie in bed all day like this?".

Anyway, I got a call from her yesterday telling me that she got a call from an aunt of mine about a 'nice' and 'handsome' boy who is a son of a friend of hers who just started working around my area. He's apparently looking to meet new 'friends' and my mum and my aunt have decided that I should do lunch or dinner with him. I retorted saying if he was so 'nice' and 'handsome' why did he need help making 'friends'. My mum told me to not be rude.

Firstly, I don't trust this particular aunt's judgement in men. Secondly and more importantly, why would a grown up man need help from his mum to set him up? Is he so lazy that he couldn't be bothered to make his own efforts to finding a date and would rather rely on his mum to get him one? That or he is really ugly.

I'm not in the least bit intrigued. But you try saying no to my mum. Suffice to say, I've agreed to meet him... but only for coffee next week. I'm not going to suffer through a meal on a date set up by conspiring aunts and mums. My mum agreed reluctantly saying dinner would be much nicer though. But I stood my ground - its coffee or nothing at all- and the tiny win did placate me a little bit. Anyway, I'm thinking, if anything, this might give me some material to blog about.

Mr. Stupid

2010-02-06T19:26:00.000-08:00

I started this blog as an angry retaliation towards Mr. Stupid. Along the way it has become something else, but I began writing the blog because I had all this anger towards this one person and no real way of channeling it.

Anyway, it started because I thought Mr. Stupid had wronged me in some way. Led me on and then blew me off. We were so close emotionally and physically, but when it finally came down to making a decision about us, I felt he made the wrong one. I was so mad.

The thing is, he was no great love of mine. We were never in a relationship. We never called each other pet names. But we did spend enourmous amounts of time with each other. We talked to each other every day. Sometimes for hours. Most important, we laughed together. He was my friend.. and so much more. A friend with benefits of sorts. I thought we were so in tune with each other, we should definitely take this to the next level. He thought not. I couldn't understand why and behaved like a child who did not get that candy she wanted. I threw tantrums. I got petulant. And when all that failed I used guilt. But it was like hitting myself against the wall, because my outbursts never got me the responses I wanted. On hindsight, of course, I realise I took the worst approach possible.

And because I had done all I could to anger him in real life and because on some level I realised what I was doing wasn't just hurting him, but me too, I took my angry venting online. Hence, this blog. Along the way, the anger dissipated, of course, and I moved on. And we're civil now, at least most of the time minus a couple of slip ups, usually on my part. I still care about him, not in the crazy way before, thank god and I'm pretty sure he genuinely cares about me too.

The only problem is as much as I still want him in my life, I am afraid of history repeating itself. The danger is I feel so comfortable with him and we know each other so well, that we sort of fall into a false pattern of ease, using each other to fill up the gap of not having a significant other in our lives. And then slowly and sneakily, without really any conscious decision on my part, I end up wanting more. And that's square one for you.

Its dangerous. And its stupid. Because, by doing this, we're not really allowing each other to grow or move on in the real sense of the word. So as much as I'm enjoying his tentative re-entrance into my life under the guise of a platonic friend, I'm not sure how long that's going to last until the truth about how I really feel about our situation comes to the surface.

Looks like I'll have to wait and see.

I'd rather die...

2009-11-16T22:41:00.000-08:00

I'm home right now sick with a bad case of food poisoning. Spent last night throwing up in a bucket next to my bed every 20 minutes or so because I was too weak to walk to the bathroom and definitely too weak to drive myself to the clinic. I NEVER FELT MORE ALONE!!

And just when I started feeling really sorry for myself, my phone rang. It was Mr. Stupid.

'Hey, whatcha doing?'

'I'm dying...' I said.

I must have sounded like I was dying, because he got really concerned and when I told him what was going on with me, he offered to come by and take me to the clinic.

I wanted him to so so bad. But I couldn't.

Why?

Because I looked like shit. My hair was a mess, all wet and sticky. My face flushed, my nose dripping, stomach bloated. And I had an ugly green t-shirt on which was probably streaked with my vomit and which I was too weak to change out of. There was no way in hell I was going to let him see me this way. I'd have rather died.

So I said, 'Uh.. thanks. But, no, I don't really like the doctor at the 24 hour clinic near my place. I'll call you though.. if it gets worse?'

He said 'Are you sure? I could drop by. I'm just on my way home. And I'm not gonna be doing anything really...'

'No. No. Its okay. For now. I'll call you if I feel worse... ' I literally croaked, choking on some vomit. 'I have to go now...'

'Okay. Call me then. Try sleep it off.'

Ooh..it got worse. So much worse. And no, I didn't sleep till 5am in the morning.

He called at about 9am. When I picked up, he said, 'You're alive!' I could hear the smile in his voice. 'You feeling better?'

'Now yes. Earlier not so much. Thank you for caring..' I sleepily said.

'Go back to sleep' he said.

And I did go back to sleep. Feeling a little better and slightly less alone.

Bad behaviour?

2009-11-11T08:56:00.000-08:00

Miss X has been hitting it off with the object of her interest these last couple of weeks. And although they don't meet as often as she'd like to due to their busy and conflicting work schedules, they flirt with sexy texts and conversations almost daily.

Then, this one night, they were supposed to meet up for dinner. It gets cancelled at the last minute. And of course, she's expecting him to reschedule, he doesn't. She sends him a text which goes unreplied. She calls him, he doesn't answer. By now, she's obviously totally pissed. And asking me what the fuck just happened?

And the thing is. I honestly don't know.

You're into someone. Things are looking good. The chemistry is there. Its not a full blown relationship. Sure. He's under no obligations to report to you. Definitely.

But, there was a certain expectation set in motion already. You don't disappear on someone after creating that expectation. Or you shouldn't. Right? Right??

Once, Mr. P didn't reply my text, for a whole day, and it drove me up the wall. The next day, he claimed he left his phone in a friends place. At that time, I felt a little foolish over how it had affected me.

This guy, has since apologised to my friend, claiming some work disasters which took up all his time... he seems genuine enough in his apology.

But what does all these non-reply, non-calls mean?

In my books, generally, not replying to my texts or calls is just bad behaviour.

But being fed shit on tv which would proclaim this might be him not being into you doesn't help either. Because, just when you're thinking, okay, maybe he's not into me, he goes and does something completely contrary to show you that he maybe, perhaps is. And come on, just how annoying is that?

Superior Scribbler Award

2009-11-08T08:46:00.000-08:00

My first blog award given to me by Fish at plentymorefishoutofwater. Been boasting about it to my friends. So thank you Fish!

The rules apparently are:

1) Each Superior Scribbler must in turn pass the award on to five most deserving bloggy friends.

2) Each Superior Scribbler must link to the author and the name of the blog from whom s/he has received the award.

3) Each Superior Scribbler must display the award on his/her blog, and link to This Post, which explains the award.

4) Each blogger who wins The Superior Scribbler Award must visit this post and add his/her name to the Mr Linky List. That way, they'll be able to keep up-to-date on everyone who receives this prestigious honour.

5) Each Superior Scribbler must post these rules on his/her blog.

So the 5 superior scribblers I choose are 30-F-London for her totally intruiging sexcapades. Sara at You Make My Date for funny dating disaster stories. The entertaining journalist at The London Loves. Monique Danger at The Monique Danger Chronicles. She's on a conquest to take on the world and find a decent boyfriend while she's at it. And finally, Kitty Moore at Kitty Tells It As It Is. Great blog.

Tingly, warm sensations

2009-10-27T00:59:00.000-07:00

I was at the pharmacy the other day to pick up some condoms before heading over to Mr. P’s place. The last time I was at his place, we were going at it but had to stop because he didn’t have condoms. So I wanted to be prepared this time, just in case. I picked up a colourful red box which said tingling, warm sensations, thinking that must feel very nice. How very creative of them to think up such condoms. I walked to the counter, paid for it and headed off.

At his place, after the 2nd glass of wine, we were all over each other and rushed to his room to finally have great, fantastic sex. He said he still didn’t have condoms and even in my horny state, I wondered how come I thought about it but he hadn’t. But no matter, luckily I was prepared, I thought. It was dark in his room and I had to scramble for the box in my purse. It was killing the moment a little. He had gotten up to search his underwear drawer to see if he had a spare packet he had forgotten about. Both of us scrambling in the dark and I was the first to find it. Giving a triumphant squeal, I peeled the box and waved the tiny packet in his face.

He took it from me, ripped it and said.. “What the fuck?”

“Why?” I asked.

Somehow, noticing the look on his face in the dark, I grabbed the packet from his hand and felt something soft and squishy in my hands. I said out loud.. “The condom melted.”

“Its lube, idiot!”

How in the world had I gotten mixed up with lube and condoms? I blame the packaging. They looked exactly the same.

Mr. P was sweet about it though. Teased me about it the next morning when in the bright, still in bed, I picked up the box and read the label where it was unmistakably stated.. tingling, warm sensation lubricant.

I turned and looked at him, purple in the face. He laughed and hugged me saying, "Don’t worry, we’ll find some use for that too.”

I shut my eyes, pretending not to hear, snuggled up closer to him smiling.

Beers and mojito

2009-10-21T18:58:00.000-07:00

R, a close male friend of mine of many years sent me a text around 11pm yesterday asking me what I was doing. My friendship with R is pretty strange. Mostly, he's someone I can talk to, share things with, get a guy's input on matters which are beyond my female comprehension. I wanted to maintain things to be platonic, but since I've already established I'm bad at that, we've crossed that line once or twice, okay, maybe three times, all thanks to him and alcohol. Things get weird for a while, then we pick up and pretend it never happened and all is good. Plus, he has a girlfriend. But their relationship is even weirder, I'm not going to get into that today. Not enough time..I'm at the airport - I've got fifteen minutes to try trash this out.

Anyway, after he sent me the text, I called him cause I wanted to ask him what he thought about my on again, off again, on again relationship with Mr. P.

R knows that I suck at the whole friend's with benefits deal and was skeptical when I mentioned I was giving it a shot with Mr. P. But he listened anyway. So I told him about how I overdosed with Mr P two weeks ago, and how he asked me to meet his friends and I did. And how we took his dog out for walks at night holding hands and stopping to kiss at corners. How we just sat and talked in the German bar, me sipping mojitos and he having a beer of course.

As I was telling him all this, I knew at the back of my head what R was going to say already. And he did.. "get out while you still have your heart intact".

But, that's the thing, I said. I don't really have to worry about my heart. After all that two weeks ago, I haven't heard from him since. His dissapearing acts are exactly whats keep me from falling for this guy. So maybe, maybe this could actually work?

R's response.."you're so fucking delusional!"

Who am I kidding

2009-10-12T23:19:00.000-07:00

I’ve never been able to handle a no strings attached relationship. Friend with benefits, fuck buddies, whatever, I’ve tried them but my emotions get in the way. Almost always. Even when I try to keep it casual, if there’s sex, and if it’s just sex, I just can’t handle it.

The other things I’ve not been able to handle is strictly platonic relationship with guys that I’m really close with or end up getting close to. I’m not talking casual friends you hang out having a beer with once week. I’m talking about the guy that at some point in your life you start depending on for boy advise, for a shoulder to cry on or for getting you home safe after a night of drunken clubbing. He is not your boyfriend (for whatever reasons), but the one you’d call if you got into any car trouble or any trouble at all really.

So, despite knowing all this, I find myself trying to manage a no strings attached, friend with benefit, fuck buddy kinda relationship with Mr. P…..

and against my better judgment, I’ve recently rekindled a kind of tentative friendship with Mr Stupid, someone I’ve failed appallingly at maintaining a strictly platonic relationship with so many, many times before.

Ah well.

Holiday = Sex

2009-10-08T08:19:00.000-07:00

A, my ex, before we started our relationship, invited me for a holiday with him to Europe. We were chatting online, and he casually mentioned it. He did not really come right out and ask me. More like 'If I asked you to come here for a holiday.. would you?'. He was in Dusseldorf, I was in KL. Me thinking, he was not serious, said 'yeah, sounds like fun' (insert smiley). But he was serious. And I went. At that point, I did not go expecting to begin a relationship with him. I just wanted to get some action going and of course doing that in Europe didn't hurt. I'd not been with someone for a while and I knew with him, the sex was great, so I thought why the hell not. As it turned out, the sex was great and we ended well wanting to marry each other. Wanting of course. It didn't happen. Obviously. Long distance is bloody stupid. Why I decided to go ahead and be stupid is a story for another day.

But yes. It all started with an invitation for me to go on a holiday with him.

Recently, one of my closest friends Miss X, who is so totally into this guy whom she very recently got to know was put on a spot when he asked her if she would go on a holiday with him. She really likes the guy, so she obviously said yes. But she wasn't sure if by saying yes he automatically assumes they were going to sleep with each other.

When A asked me, I knew I was going to most definitely sleep with him. I'd slept with him before. I knew the sex was gonna be great. But Ms X, as much as she likes him, she's just getting know him, and is not sure if she's ready to jump that far. Yet.

So, being who she is, she set him straight about the sex bit (or at least tried to..)

Ms X: Can I ask you something about our holiday?
Him: What is it?
Ms X: If I go with you, would you be expecting me to sleep with you?
Him: Why would you ask that?
Ms X: I'd like to know
(Giving the obvious answer..)
Him: Of course not!
Ms X: But of course you're going to say that. Would it be a problem with you if we didn't have sex?
Him: Why are you asking these questions? Are you saying you won't go on this holiday with me if that's what I was expecting?
Ms X: I just don't want to lead you on..
Him: So are you saying yes to the holiday, but with a clause?
Ms X: Ha ha. Yea. Something like that.

Anyway, all that talk with her has led me to wonder if an invitation for a holiday is code for an invitation for sex. Is it a given?

The kissing game

2009-10-04T07:28:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking about kissing and kisses the last few days and finally decided to finally write about it. Personally, I’ve not experienced a terrible kiss, uncomfortable yes, forgetable definitely. But not terrible…though my last kiss over the weekend, I believe is going to make me regret it. He was coughing apparently from some bug, but I kissed him anyway. And then I woke up this morning with a scratchy throat. Fucking caught the bug.. stupid me.

But anyway, I digress.

I checked out what kissing meant on wikipedia and this is what I got.. “A kiss is the touching of one person's lips to another place, which is used as an expression of affection, respect, greeting, farewell, good luck, romantic affection or sexual desire…” it adds.. “Anthropologists have not reached a conclusion as to whether kissing is learned or a behavior from instinct..”

That caught me..the statement as to whether kissing was learned or from instinct. I mean if I didn’t watch all those people french kissing on tv or reading about it on those romance novels, would I ever have indulged in it? I probably could never answer that, cause well, I have watched all those people kiss on tv and read all those romance novels. I remember being sixteen and wondering when on earth was I going to experience my 1st real kiss. A good proper french kiss. The ones that curled your toes. Like in the romance novels. Some of my friends at school were already making out with boys but not me… being a late bloomer and all that. One time, I remember being asked by a classmate (I forget who) about whether I’ve kissed a boy. I lied and said yes.. though I hadn’t and desperately wanted to.

Anyway, my time came the following year, when all the major exams were behind me (this was the result of my typical strict asian upbringing.. my life those days basically centered around all the major exams in school). Also I didn’t meet that many boys as I was in an all girls school, but with the exams behind me and an almost urgent need to be kissed, I somehow stumbled upon the opportunity. It was all very high school.. I was in Mc Donalds having lunch one day with my girlfrriends and we noticed this bunch of boys a few tables away..so anyway, yadayadayada.. long story short.. I’m suddenly in love with this guy who was 4 years older than me. At 17 that was a lot of years and he was a bad boy of sorts..tall dark and handsome with a big motorbike.

He kissed me for the 1st time in the cinema. We were seated right at the back and the place was pretty empty.. I remember my heart beating furiously and I was so nervous. Somehow I knew that was the day he was going to kiss me although we’d been to the cinema so many times before and nothing ever happened. Instinct I guess. Or the fact that he was sitting so close almost breathing into the side of my face and he kept looking at me instead of watching the movie. Next thing I know, I turned and his lips were on mine. And it tasted… of cigarettes! And it was very wet. My toes didn’t curl or anything. Then he started kissing my ears and my neck which I liked it better cause I couldn’t smell the foul smelling cigarette odour when he kissed those places..

Anyway, that was my 1st and last kiss with him. I left to university soon after where I experienced many many more kisses with many more boys. Some good. Some not so much. But it did brush away all my embarrassment/ awkwardness (in my head) about being the only one who’d never been kissed...

My one true love story...

2009-09-29T20:26:00.000-07:00

I was amazed at how much emotion reading this old mail brought up. Its been so bloody long since I felt this way and this much..sometimes I wonder if I ever will again..

April 4, 2006
Hi,
I'm not sure you want to hear from me. I do wish there was an easier way to deal with this. But that's wishful thinking. I guess we have our ways of dealing with all the things that happen to us... three weeks. Its been three weeks since we parted and I'm alternating between sadness and relieve. I haven't heard from you since.. haven't spoken to you at all except that brief YM encounter when you told me about how you still couldn't find an apartment. I tried calling you twice but you didn’t answer. Not sure if it was on purpose or you just missed it. Don't really care right now cause honestly what difference is it going to make?

Sadness, I'm sure you can grasp. But relieve..? That night when you told me you were so tired with this whole thing.. I couldn't really understand. I was a little drunk that night but I remember most of what you said. The next day however, though I was crying most of the day, I felt this incredible weight lifted off my shoulders. Is that a bad thing? I mean I didn't realize how much I was pushing myself for us.. didn't realize how tired I was also. I didn't want to loose you.... but I was weirdly grateful for the breather. The time to re-think my priorities. What was it I really wanted?

A, I do love you. Always will I think. Not the kind of love to move mountains obviously...and lately, I'm not sure if I'm capable of such love. Perhaps not. Perhaps, I am also selfish. I gave up as soon as you did. But I've learnt from the past, that holding on to something.. and being the only one to hold on to it..is incredibly stupid. And lets not even get into the heartache that comes from that. I can't. I can't let my heart break for you again. It barely survived before.

I don't have all the answers. When it comes to you I wonder if I'll ever get any answers. Why my heartcraves for you? Why it refuses to listen to logic? So I'm with you on this... I'm also tired of all the damn questions.

I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss you. I miss you incredibly. The beautiful mornings we woke up to Frank Sinatra in the background and the sleepy nights we slept to Norah Jones's songs playing on your phone...the holding hands and kissing and love making... At times I think I want to just let you go. But then some memory of our time together creeps into my head. The time we spent walking in the art museum in Amsterdam..or that cold night we walked the streets of Paris with your arms around my shoulders. You standing among the crowd in the airport...waiting for me with a smile on your face. The taste of your lips when we kiss for the first time after months being apart. The look on your face when we said goodbye as I boarded the train. You muttered the words 'I'll miss you...' with a helpless look on your face...and tears were streaming down mine. Our walks by the river...in the park...at night. Sitting close and talking to you in that crowded, cramped American restaurant...with their lamp dangling so close to our heads and the very loud music...but I felt so close to you then. And all our other kisses, sometimes not really caring who saw us. Those passionate kisses. God.

So yes, I do miss you. I miss sharing with you my day. How classes went..or how work was or how your day passed. What you had for dinner or how you cooked yourself a meal. As mundane as they were.. I felt close to you. I felt that no matter what happened around me, I had you on my side and because of that I would be okay. I fell asleep everynight with a smile on my face knowing you were mine. I swear I don’t know how reminiscing is going to help either one of us. But I wanted you to know that I have many beautiful memories. You still bring a smile to my face. Aaargh! Can you imagine that?

You have been wonderful and you let me in. I felt it A... Don't write it off. Don't reduce us to just something of the past that you want to get over as soon as possible. I know how you can shut off. You told me and I've seen you do it. I could probably do something about that if I were there. But then we might not be facing this, if that were the case.

I'm not asking you back but I want you to remember me. Remember us. Don't forget how good it was, cause right now, only knowing that will I be able to feel a little better.

I'm fine really...coincidence had it that the very week you decided you wanted out, someone else walked into my life. So I have my distractions as I'm sure you have yours. I don't want any details... and I'll spare you mine.

Just take care my dearest dearest A. Fate, as it turned out gave us a chance to meet again. And what a meeting it was. Too bad we couldn't make it work....

I'm not ready to wish you happiness and love yet :) But one day I will.

Yours. Always.
Me

Say it the way it is!

2009-09-18T22:31:00.000-07:00

Actually...I am a little cheesed off.

The least P could have done was not romanticize the whole damn thing.

Why dating hiatuses are bad for you...

2009-09-18T00:18:00.000-07:00

I’d been on a dating hiatus mostly cause the last few dates I’d had were crap. Nothing special, no connection, no chemistry. Just plain downright crap.

Hence, without consciously deciding to do so, I took a break from it all – the dating scene. Did it feel good? No, not really. I just had a lot more time for work, got buried in it. And I basically hid myself away from the world. The days passed by quickly, with formal meetings with clients in very cold meeting rooms or my head buried in the stack of papers that needed to be reviewed or glued to the computer thinking of ways to make my proposals more interesting for my boss. The good thing that came out of this, the hard work paid off with pats on my back from the boss. The bad thing, my only companions were my computer and my DVD player at nights before I fell asleep. And of course the occasional meet-up with my girlfriends. No boys for 2 whole months.

2 weeks ago Mr. Photographer (we’ll call him Mr. P) texted me. Mr. P is someone I slept with once 3 or 4 years ago when I was on a rebound from one of my relationships. We’ve not really been in touch except for a few texted messages exchanged over the span of the last 3 or 4 years. I met him once this year for drinks in February, I think, and we kissed. But I didn’t hear from him after. Nothing new. Anyway, this last text message which came in 2 weeks ago which was the usual ‘You busy?’ message that came in at almost mid-night, I replied and we made plans to meet up which kept getting cancelled till we finally met for drinks at a German bar last week. There was something different about this meet-up cause we ended up talking, like really, really talking. I don’t know if it was because of the hiatus, or the long-string of bad dates or my feeling lonely, but we ended up talking about why we never dated and why shouldn’t we date (maybe?). He’s cute. With a very nice body, albeit with piercings – but I don’t judge those sort of things. And he found me sexy. So, we kissed again (more passionately I thought somehow than I remembered from before) and he said he’ll call. And when the idea was put into my head (about why we shouldn’t date – maybe?), all I could think about for the next few days was just that!

Why not? I asked myself. Of course there were a hundred and one reasons including the fact that he’s 40, a bit of a hobo, who really isn’t settled in life, lived in a house that looked like the one I lived in in college - almost completely bare except for a yellow sofa that was patched up with those black plaster tapes cause it was torn in the middle and a TV. Nice pictures on the wall though thanks to the artist in him. And the thing is he probably never will settle in life. But did all of that stop me from wondering. A big fucking NO! My mind just turned oblivious to all of the facts and started entertaining romantic notions of how nice it’d be to date a ‘free-willed’ person such as he. Sounded better in my head than hobo for sure. I was so pre-occupied with these thoughts for 2 whole days that it slipped me that he hadn’t call. And when he did get in touch again, it was another text close to midnight asking me to ‘come over if I wasn’t busy’. I went. We watched a movie, made out and I left.

The next day (you’d think I’d have gotten some sense by now) but no I was still stuck in my god-knows-what bubble; I texted him asking him to come to my office to meet me for lunch. Thinking, maybe I should be the one to well, perhaps steer him away from the midnight messages. Maybe if he sees me in daylight, he’ll notice there’s more to me than ‘midnight booty call’ (though there hadn’t been much booty between us – only that one time 3 or 4 years ago). Whatever.

He came. We had lunch in Starbucks. We talked. Laughed a bit. Then ran out of things to say to each other. Literally. I brushed it off then, thinking it was nothing - but my bubble has burst since.

He didn’t/ hasn’t called. What was I expecting really?

Lesson I learnt here (you’d think I’d know this by now): don’t mix up the 11 o’clock texts to mean anything more. Even if he might have been the one to suggest the ‘maybe there’s more’. Whatever his reasons may have been - maybe he was feeling lonely too, or he was on a rebound this time, a ‘You busy?’ text is well exactly just that. It’s so astoundingly stupid to read more into it.

So why did I? Who the fuck knows. I blame it on the lack of dating/ meeting new men. Hiatuses from dating are just bad for you. Makes you think up all sorts of stupid things.

I don’t feel any resentment towards Mr. P. Really. This was all just in my head.

Idealist

2009-06-18T03:06:00.000-07:00

I am an idealist. I was sitting across this lady I know from work this afternoon and she was telling me about her marriage. What starts of as rosy - not so much once you get married she said. The things you need to put up with - the demanding in-laws, the temper tantrums, the increasing fights, the lack of attention, the excess weight, the dwindling sex, the rising bills, sometimes even the mistresses. Worst is the indifference, she said. The feeling that you don't matter to the other person, where once he told you you were his world... now he doesn't even notice you when you're right next to him.

And I thought to myself, I'd rather be where I am right now. Confused most of the time about love and men. Lonely sometimes. But at least I'm not stuck in her rut. Her man has already been dealt to her. And add to that she has children and their future to think about. So despite her far from perfect man, she will take it and live with it.

As for me, my man has not been dealt to me yet. Or rather I haven't found him yet. He is still out there. In the past, I've eliminated some potentials for the littlest of reasons and others for matters I couldn't find myself compromising on. I have a friend who crossed off a guy because she said and I quote 'he had to much space between his nose and his upper lips'. Picky you say. I say at least she had her standards. As superficial as some of my criterias might be, at the end of the day it boils down to bigger things. Chemistry to begin with. Communication which is open and hopefully as honest as it can get. Trust. An active interest in each others life and in life in general. Commitment or rather a readiness to commit to bigger and better things. Someone who is not fat!

I hope I never settle for less. And despite recent events (or rather disappointments) that has brought about my thinking I've turned into a cynic, the hopeless romantice in me pushes through and absolutely and utterly believes that this guy is out there. Not entirely flawless as he'll obviously have his little imperfections (I mean, everyone knows there's no such thing as the perfect man). But hey, that's something I'd be more than happy to live with....and yes, wait for.

Phuket 2007

2009-06-04T01:11:00.000-07:00

Note: Although this post is based on true events, it has been embellished...thanks to the creative writing classes I'm attending :)

I was running up a flight of stairways, he was right behind me. A cool breeze blew, swishing the green ultra flare skirt I was wearing up as I ran up the stairs. The breeze tasted salty.

When I reached the top of the staircase, I turned around and looked at him. He gave me a sheepish grin. Both of us knew what we wanted, what was going to come next and the anticipation was killing us. Only, we had to pretend that nothing was happening. For the benefit of our colleagues. It was a company trip afterall and to avoid being the topic of the office grapevine, it was best to keep things...keep this thing under wraps. Whatever this was.

I looked at him standing one step below me, still smiling, his eyes crinkling at the sides, the way it always does when he smiles. I leaned across and kissed him lightly on the lips. I couldn't help it.

He put his hands on my waist and twirled me around trying to push me forward. I moved reluctantly, my feet dragging. "We're late... move it" he said.

"Don't want" I said laughingly, still dragging my feet as he tried to push me harder.

"Move it... lazy girl" he said giving me a hard smack on my behind and a cause to start a pretend fight.

And before I could do anything and as if he read my mind, he grabbed both my hands and said "Not now... we have plenty of time for this later".

I wanted to say something to retaliate but caught myself nodding instead. True enough, I thought. So, smiling both of us walked across the capacious hotel lobby towards the grand ballroom where our company dinner had already started.

The “new” effect

2009-05-24T20:50:00.000-07:00

I was watching a tv progamme yesterday that got me thinking about the “new'” effect in relationships. About the excitement and fun that comes with 'newness' which does not last long and fades away in time.

We probably have many names for it, the 6 month itch or the honeymoon period, etc. but I guess it all boils down to the fact that - what starts off as something new, thrilling and exciting will always fade into something…well...old. There is no avoiding it.

When things are still new, we're all out to impress and please. We're on our best behaviours especially the wooing party which most likely would be the man. He’d probably go out of his way to satisfy your whims and fancies. And you’d probably go out of your way making him feel that he’s an amazing guy to be doing all that. But how long does this last?

Back to the tv programme, this couple who started off great, had so much fun in the beginning, ended up fighting and arguing about the littlest things. They were sitting across each other at dinner one night and she asks him.. ‘What happened to us? We used to be so much fun… you used to eat noodles off my back forgodsake! And now….’

And I could relate. When I think back to some of the relationships I’ve had, there is always this turning point when the things you did together just stopped being as fun, the things you said as funny, and the time spent together as exciting. What you might have tolerated before becomes not as tolerable anymore. And the worst is when you see him not doing the same things for you as he did before. When he starts saying no to the things he would not have hesitated to say yes to and when he’d rather be out with his buddies when once he’d have blown them off to be with you.

In all honesty, I’ve never been able to reconcile this. When this happened to me, I remember getting really worked up. Of course being caught up in the relationship and never being able to see it from the outside, my responses have typically been picking up fights, storming off after the fights and then becoming needy with lines such as ‘you don’t care about me anymore…’.

Which leads me to wonder, how do couples move past this? How do they decide, ‘Look, I know the whole “new” deal is over, but I still want to be with you’ and make it work? How do you get past the fact that he might rather be out with other people than with you… or that you can’t find much to talk about anymore when once two hour conversations flew by in a flash…or …when you don’t just want to lie in and laze in each others company anymore? What do you do, when the newness gets old?

Rock bottom

2009-05-11T07:43:00.000-07:00

One of my darkest fear (probably my darkest) is that everyone around me will start getting it right except me. You know... finding someone you can connect with and not do anything to screw it up and eventually end up happy. My definition of getting it right, that is. And me, instead of learning, I'll keep repeating the same mistakes again and again and end up pushing everyone and anyone who ever meant a thing to me completely away.

It hit me last saturday, that I've probably completely and utterly lost a friend thanks to my inability to keep my emotions and rage in check. Or I probably lost him a long time ago thanks to the same reasons.

I know we both messed up the friendship. But instead of moving on, I'm holding on to a past that no longer exists and a grudge that just cannot be justified anymore. And everytime he shows up, instead of greeting him as a friend should I end up loosing my cool, my head and my temper. Everything. And it just isn't a pretty sight.

The only thing that's holding me together right now is me knowing that when you've hit rock bottom... there's nowhere else to go but up. Though at the looks of it, I'm gonna be stuck here a while.

Long distance

2009-05-08T00:23:00.000-07:00

I was clearing my mailbox and found this email from eons ago...

"i sent you this sms but i doubt you got it . i want you to hear it . i dont want to just hear your voice. thats so lame. i wanted to talk about how i was starting my new job tomorrow. i wanted to talk about this guy who gave me a little pillow in a shape of a heart that said 'u r special'. i wanted to know what you felt about that. i wanted to tell you about how my classes are starting again soon. and how i have to face all that again. i wanted to hear how you miss me and why you want me in your life. i wanted to tell you about the movie i watched today and the book i am reading which is really interesting. i wanted to tell you that my hair is growing and it looks longer.. and i have pictures that i took last night. see i had so much to tell you. but you just said bye. yeah..so bye. times like this the distance is overpowering..."

xoxo

The simple life

2009-04-16T03:06:00.000-07:00

I wish I were less complicated. One of those easily pleased people whose needs are simple. Undemanding. Light. Unfortunately (for me), I am everything but.

I was driving through a palm oil estate earlier, and I saw some kids run by the side of the road laughing and I felt a twinge of wistfulness. When was the last time I felt that carefree? Then I saw a lady drying her clothes on a wire outside her house. And I wondered what her problems might be. Children. Husband. Dinner. I’m just guessing.

I asked myself if I could live here. Like this. In an estate, surrounded by palm oil trees, the nearest town perhaps a 30km drive, and far away from civilization. My version of civilization that is; in the likes of high rise offices, heavy traffic, oversized shopping malls,each new one larger than the last and clubs that stay open till 5am. My automatic response was no way.

But when I think about it, I wonder why not? Is it because I’d actually miss the shopping malls which I can’t stand going to on the weekends because they get just so offensively crowded? Or would I miss being stuck in the horrendous traffic at any given hour in KL? Perhaps I’d miss out on the rat race - the thrill of working in an office from sunrise to dusk, doing a job that brings so little meaning to anyones life least alone mine, dealing with irksome demands by the bosses and incessant deadlines which if you miss, spells the end of the world. But hey, if I pull out now – whose going to pay for my car or the new service residence I want to buy? And what about the weekend parties… the all night clubbing and drinking till dawn, celebrating the end of a tiresome, seemingly endless week?

I guess, I have been programmed to fit this lifestyle regardless how unhappy it might be making me. I’m stuck with a bunch of financial commitments including a loan that paid for my education which led to my line of work, which got me caught up in the rat race that fed a greedy dream to be successful. And along the way bought some bullshit on how living this life, wearing these shoes, driving this car, carrying this handbag and living in this condo is the definition of success.

What a fucking joke.

Too much

2009-04-04T23:10:00.000-07:00

Too much whining. Too much bitching. Too many gripes. Too much time to think about everthing that is wrong with me and the world.

Okay maybe not so much the world. A little too narcisistic for that.

Its an almost perfect Sunday. I just had a nice lunch. I have a good book to read. Its not too hot. Nice and quiet.

If only my head would shut its whining, bitching and griping.

Little miss cynical

2009-03-31T06:54:00.000-07:00

I guess it has been a long time coming. Inevitable really. The cynic in me rising and rising, becoming more difficult to shut up with every passing date. Every passing guy.

Cases in point:

'K' the guy I went out on a my 1st ever blind date

Background: He was someone with a speech disorder. He began and ended each sentence with the phrase 'you know or not'. I didn't pick it up at first because he utters it really fast but I really had to hold in my horrified laughter when he uttered it to the waiter while placing his order. It went something like "you know or not.. I'd like a glass of beer...you know or not" which of course left the waiter giving him a confused look. Anyway, despite this major impairment (in my books) I went on to entertain his calls and smses subsequent to the date.

What went wrong: He just couldn't bloody ask me out. And that is just such a big turn off. He gave me hints, called me usually around dinner time and kept asking where I was - but never came right out and asked me out. Why don't men get that hints just don't cut it. If you like her just ask her out. Seriously whats the worst that could happen? The damnest thing here is I might have met him again if he asked...speech disorder and all!

Conclusion: Boy with no guts (and no friends who cared enough to suggest speech theraphy to him)

Mr. Bangkok (my 2nd fix-up)

Background: Okay, I actually enjoyed my date with this dude. He was funny. Charming. Nice smile and all. We talked, we laughed and I was actually pretty comfortable. However, at one point as we were ordering food, I asked him if he had a preference as we wanted to share a bite, he told me "I'm easy". Uh oh. Too familiar. That is what Mr. Stupid always said to me whenever we ordered. Of course I tried to brushoff that momentary lapse into the past, but as I sat before him after that, everything started reminding me of him. And I remember thinking to myself - now you know why so comfortable. Fuck.

So what went wrong: Hmmm.. now let me see. Other than the fact that he reminded me of a certain someone else, I thought Mr. Bangkok had potential. He even had good follow up getting in touch with me the following day. But after one exchange of email back and forth (he lives in Bangkok), I haven't heard from him since. And its been about 3 weeks...

Conclusion: Long-distance is a no go. And of course familiarity breeds contempt? Ha.

Mr McDreamy

Background: Also another fix me up. But I was actually excited about this one (he was a neurosurgeon). Having McDreamy ideas in my head, I actually prettied myself up deciding to wear a dress instead of my usual jeans. Shallow of me to judge a guy based on his profession - of course i got bit in the ass later for this cause turns out even if you're a fucking brain doctor, you can be as clueless and dense as half the male population out there. Anyway, the date - I was pleasantly surprised that he was good looking (no McDreamy of course) and tall. With a really, really nice smile and down-to-earth feel. So down-to-earth that I felt a little overdressed. He was in a collared t-shirt and dockers. So much for dressing up for a saturday night date with a neurosurgeon. The conversation we had was decent. The flirtation wasn't too bad either. He asked for my number at the end. Walked me down the street to where my friends were at after the date and said good-bye.

What went wrong: I don't know. I initiated contact about 2 days after the date thinking that maybe this time around some effort on my part might be good especially since I liked the guy. He responded politely. And that was it. For a guy who so enthusiastically asked for my number during the date, this lack of enthusiasm after was more than a little perplexing. Which left me wondering if maybe I was bad at reading these signals.

Conclusion: He's just not that into you ala Sex and the City?

Typing out the above has exhausted me. I mean seriously, is it me or is it that these are generally the men that are left out there? And to think these are just my experiences in the last month or so not taking into account my illustrative past and the experiences of my friends.

So now what? I'm thinking I'm thus allowed to wear the t-shirt with the said title!

What humour?

2009-03-24T07:00:00.000-07:00

How long does it take to get over someone? What reasonable timeline should you give yourself to move on? Is it wrong to claim that you are trying to get over the person, but deep down you feel, perhaps even know you are not trying hard enough. For fucks sake.. what the hell is wrong with me!

I thought I was moving on, until I met him about 3 weeks ago.

Talking to him felt almost normal despite the initial awkward moments, we soon managed to catch up from where we left off. Well, almost that is, until he shocked me with some horrible news about his health. Which he'd kept to himself for the last 6 months. My initial reaction was - how could he keep something so big from me? Now - a part of me wishes I didn't know this. Wishes he didn't tell me because I don't know how or what I'm supposed to do with this damned knowledge. I'm perpetually worried and paranoid. But the horrible part is I can't talk to him about without sounding patronising or irrationally concerned especially when he keeps assuring me he's okay.

A friend told me recently that humour in everything is a must. If we started taking things too seriously, well, we'd be just very depressing people. But humour is difficult when you are feeling completely down in the shits. Because meeting him also made me realise I absolutely miss him. So much sometimes that it actually feels like a physical ache.The bad moments are when I'm at a party, surrounded by happy people. And well, I'm having fun until someone says something that sounds familiar.. something he might have said... and I feel a tug in my heart. And think how much more fun it'd be if he was here. How somehow, whenever he was around, the other faces seem to fade away.

The slightly worse moments are when I am sitting opposite my date, smiling and laughing at what he's saying but wishing I could trade that moment for a shared laughter with him instead.

But the absolutely worst moments are when I'm at home. Alone. The moment just before falling asleep when I know I'd give almost anything up to have him next to me, pulling me close, arms around me, feeling his warmth.

All I can say is - what humour?

Hangovers

2009-03-22T07:10:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting in bed suffering from a horrible hangover. I didn't think I had that much to drink - but apparently I had. And on an empty stomach.

Last night I was on this Disney on Ice date which turned out to be pretty good...very PG rated. And later clubbing which wasn't on the initial itenirary.

Crap. I can't hold on to my train of thoughts right now. And I feel a headache creeping in. My stomach is churning. I have been in bed the whole day feeling like this.

Alcohol is bad. It just leaves too many bad tastes in your mouth. When will I learn!

Stupid cupid

2009-02-10T23:47:00.000-08:00

I approach most valentines with a little of both: anticipation and trepidation. It is the day where people celebrate love or rather being in love. But my feeling about this day changes according to my dating status that year which is how it probably is for most people. Looking back however, I realise, I've not had that very many memorable valentines.

In 2007 I was overseas and had just broken up with my ex boyfriend about 5 days before valentines. Disaster! But what distracted me was that I was in a hotel in a strange land in Vientianne. That night on HBO 'Closer' (Jude Law, Clive Owen and Julia Roberts) was showing and me and my roomate watched the movie while helping ourselves to generous amounts of Smirnoff. Last year, I was stuck on this overseas assignment in Bangkok. My boss and I ended up working late and later we went to a place and again got smashed on vodka. (Vodka seems to be my official valentines poison).

The single most romantic thing I've received for valentines to date was a valentine card hand-made by an exboyfriend of my last year in university. Most likely cause he was too poor to actually buy me anything, but still the effort he put into the card touched me.

Anyway, I don't really get the big fuss. If you're in love, you're in love. Valentines day is actually such an insignificant part of the whole love deal. But I guess, you could take the lighter approach and think of it as just another celebration - another reason to party. Which is what I plan to do this year…with my dearest friends Miss X and the one who wants to be known as the Duchess.

Blind date virgin (part 2)

2009-02-05T04:39:00.000-08:00

So I met K. And what do you know? It wasn't bad. It wasn't bad at all.

But more importantly, what I hadn't expected was how nervous I started becoming as the time to meet started closing in. In fact, nervous is probably an understatement. Terrified more like it. I'd started out with this blind date thinking only about one side. My side - what I wanted from the guy... what I wanted him to look like, what I wanted him to be like. What had not struck me until last night was that I wasn't going to be the only one judging. I was going to be judged as well!!

What if HE thought I wasn't pretty enough(!) or funny enough or interesting enough?! I was going to be fucking judged too. And when that hit me, I panicked and had to call a friend to calm me down and talk me through that moment and give me reasons not to back out at the last minute. At that point, somewhere at the back of my mind I gained new respect for people who actually went out on blind dates! The courage I tell you.

The day started out pretty normal. I went to work, it was a relaxing day. Caught up with a friend for lunch. I didn't have much to do having just rushed out an assignment the day before, I managed to leave work on time and head to the gym. I had hours at that point before my date which was supposed to be at 9pm. So I took my time in the gym and I scanned the place looking at this guy and that guy and wondering in my head.. "Hmmm... what if he looked like this..would I like him?" or "Man, if he wore such a tight t-shirt I'm out of there" or even "I wish he looked like this, look at those arms!".

Soon after my workout session (still calm here), I went into the shower... and as I showered I got onto thinking and it slowly started dawning on me that all my "Hmmms" and "I wish" were probably his also. Cause he was going on a BLIND DATE too! He was also going to be filled with expectations (I mean seriously, I don't believe anyone actually goes on these things without expectations). So thats when I started getting nervy. I still had about a half hour to kill before the date, so I distracted myself in MPH and Zara. Even bought myself a belt. When I left, 10 minutes more and that's when I hit panic button. My mind went blank and I had to breathe deep to calm down. When it didn't work thats when I called friend A. Thank god she talked me through it and I walked across the street to the restaurant....

When the past hits...

2009-02-04T00:52:00.000-08:00

it hits you square in the stomach. Or is it the head. Probably both.

I found his (Mr.Stupid's) business card amongst some of the things I was clearing up on my desk. And for that short moment, my mind went blank. I stared at it for about 20 seconds before shoving it into the dustbin. But that didn't stop the memories from flooding in. The day he handed it to me after starting his new job. Telling me about his day and how it wasn't so easy adjusting to a new workplace. But it looked like fun, he had said. And then I stopped myself. If I let myself get this affected by a dumb business card... what the fuck was I going to do if I bumped into him in person?! At the gym or at some bar? We're registered at the same gym and we frequent the same places. What would I do then? Stand shell shocked looking like a fool?

I can't afford to do that. Sheeshh.

This 'relationship' whatever it was when it begin, is no longer. And going through my past journals (my word document equivalent of a diary) is prove to that. Its been ending since it began!

April 2007
I’m crazy about this guy. But he is so irritatingly clueless about it… or pretends to be!

Denial.

Its not just a river in Egypt. It’s a whole freakin ocean.

Yeah… so I think about the kiss we shared. Again and again. And the look in his eyes when we had dinner the other night. And the stories he tells me about just about everything. And the countless hours we spend on the phone. Talking about nothing. And the times we dance with each other and how he pulls me closer, holding me tightly at the waist. Moving to the music. Sometimes just moving…

How he does just about everything I ask him to. Even when it does not make sense. Like pouring me a glass of Baileys to drink when I’m seated on my bed. Absolutely wasted. Of course I spilt everything…everywhere. Broke the glass and everything. And how was I supposed to clean up? I couldn’t even stand straight.

I want this guy so bad. I want him cause he’s the sweetest, nicest guy I know. Cause he makes me laugh. And he’s smart…sometimes annoyingly so.

And I want him.. cause he is so absolutely straight laced, insufferably honest and believes in being a gentleman to the point of… me wanting to smack him so hard in head.

June 2007
He has been pulling away for as long as I can remember. If that isn’t a sign enough for me…I don’t know what is. I need to someway get a grip of myself and find myself again. The person who didn’t mind being alone. The person he wanted to just hang out with and have fun with. Not the person who couldn’t stand seeing him dance with another girl. Who made out with his friend.
Who ended up throwing away a precious gift just because she was jealous.

But as soon as he pulls away, he comes right back. Doing all the things I want him to and being the man I find incapable of resisting. His smile literally makes me warm all over. And I catch myself staring at his hands, his ringed finger and his neck, and his side profile. All when he’s not looking. A fucking love struck puppy. It’s quite pathetic….

He stayed over at my place yesterday. We were together practically the whole day. I was in his place…and felt the sexual tension rising between us throughout the day. But none of us doing anything about it. I was sitting as far away as possible from him. And I knew, all I needed to do was lean over and he would kiss me. But I didn’t. Not then anyway. And our mock fight over the newspaper. Him grabbing me… and me pulling away. Bloody 17 year olds.

We went shopping. Stopped over at Chilis for margaritas. And everything after that was history repeating itself. We got back to his place. I leaned over and we started kissing. He missed his movie which he was supposed to catch with his friends, instead came over to my place, stayed over and dropped me in office this morning. Like my boyfriend. That he is not.

Sigh. How long will I have to wait for this idiot?

Just gonna enjoy the ride till that moment. That would be the wisest thing I could do actually.

August 2007
Dear Stupid,

You’re so warm one minute and so distant the next. I don’t get you. Saturday night you were hugging me, touching my hands and kissing my forehead while we were sleeping. And then Sunday night when we went to sleep you didn’t even come close. And on the way to work, before you dropped me off, I had no idea what was going on in your head. No emotions whatsoever. No first day at work jitters. No excitement. No look in your eye indicating you might actually miss me since I’ll be away for a week. Nothing.

Again, you’re driving me nuts. And I’m over analysing. And I need to stop whining and bitching about this. I swear, I’ve had just about enough.

The thing is almost always, you come around and do something else that I can’t resist.

I’m crazy about you. That much I know. Wish I knew where I stood with you. When are you going to let me in?

You do so much for me. You give me so much. But you hold back so much more. When are you going to let go?

I’m not sure how long I can stay like this. The masochistic part of me will probably want to hold on longer than I should. And I might even hold on longer than I probably ought to. But I know I have my breaking point. And I hope to god you don’t push me there.

I’m here now with you because I care about you. I do. And being with you makes me happy. I refuse to play games. I know my pride gets in the way sometimes. Still, I try.

So, now all I can do is wait. And you must know how incredibly difficult this is for me. Knowing how fucking impatient I am and can be.

Love,
Little Miss Angry

January 2008

He said he loved me too. I’ve never said it to him before.. but I guess it is obvious. But what makes him think he can assume that… even I’m not sure what I feel. I don’t know what I feel.

Somewhere in June we decided we would be just friends. Somewhere in July we slept together again. And history just about repeated itself. You'd think I'd have learnt much sooner that this was doomed from the start. But some part of me wonders if I was only attracted to him because he was unavailable. But that's a story for another day.

Blind date virgin (part 1)

2009-02-03T03:09:00.001-08:00

I have a date tomorrow. More specifically a blind date. And this would mark my official first blind date.

Why I actually agreed to this is a whole other story!

I don't know much about him (lets call him 'K') except that he is in his early thirties, an engineer and he goes to the gym.

I'd like to say I'm going with zero expectation but that would be a lie. I'm hoping he'd be cute enough and funny enough to keep me entertained during the night. And nice enough that I would want to go out with him again. Well, a girl can hope!

But I've heard enough times about how big a disaster first dates can be. Especially blind ones!

Anyway.. .
here's keeping my fingers crossed.

Men men men...

2009-02-02T03:34:00.000-08:00

I got this in an e-mail a while back and today I read it again and it made me laugh.

-For all those men who say, Why buy a cow when you can get milk for free. Here's an update for you: Women realize it's not worth buying an entire pig just to get a little sausage.

Men are like....

1. Men are like Laxatives ...They irritate the crap out of you.

2 Men are like Bananas...The older they get, the less firm they are.

3. Men are like Weather...Nothing can be done to change them.

4. Men are like Blenders...You need One, but you're not quite sure why.

5. Men are like Chocolate Bars... Sweet, smooth, & they usually head right for your hips.

6. Men are like Commercials...You can't believe a word they say.

7. Men are like Department Stores ... Their clothes are always 1/2 off!

8. Men are like Government Bonds .... They take soooooooo long to mature.

9. Men are like Mascara... They usually run at the first sign of emotion.

10. Men are like Popcorn...They satisfy you, but only for a little while.

11. Men are like Snowstorms...You never know when they're coming, how many inches you'll get or how long it will last.

12. Men are like Lava Lamps...Fun to look at, but not very bright.

13. Men are like Parking Spots...All the good ones are taken, the rest are handicapped!

There are no mistakes in life....

2009-01-06T00:28:00.000-08:00

only lessons.

It is 2009 and I am planning (key word being planning) to stop all these woe is me nonsense and try to have a more optimistic, cheerful outlook to life. Again, key word being try. Afterall, it is so much easier to just sink into whining and bitching than rather get up and do something about it.

BUT, but I'm going to give it a shot. No big resolutions. Just 2 little things I'm going to try this year:

1) Stop my binge drinking

2) Start dating again

3) Start gym (I hate the gym, so maybe I should sign up for a class like kick boxing or dancing)

Okay, that was 3 things but whose counting. And they do sound a little like resolutions but I'm refusing to call it that because history has shown that I never keep up with my resolutions. Ever.

2008 was filled with a lot of stupid things I did and said. Some that make me cringe everytime I think about it. But everybody does stupid things at some point. And I guess it is one way you learn about yourself and what you are capable of. As long as you don't let it define you.

One night stands

2008-11-14T01:48:00.000-08:00

Who's to say a woman can't enjoy a one night stand.

And just because I did, that does not a slut maketh. I'm still a little heady from the rush of my little encounter two nights ago. It was unexpected which added to the excitement. Plus, he was cute.

After my last few emotional disasters in the bedroom this past year, what happened two nights ago was extremely liberating. No emotional attachment. No expectations. And well some real carnal action. We were both a little drunk and the location required us to perform some acrobatic stunts, but it was more the novelty of getting some action than actually getting any REAL action that kept us going at it. It was funny at parts, and now when I think about it way reckless.

But mostly it was just fun.

Till I woke up the next day late for a meeting.

But for now, I'm one very naughtily satisfied woman.

Letter to the @$#%hole

2008-11-07T02:00:00.000-08:00

Dearest (NOT!) Mr.Stupid,

My arrogant pride will stop me from sending this letter to you ever. Even letting you know I'm angry at you somehow feels like I'm revealing a weakness.

I'll never forgive you for the way you treated me. Someone you claimed to be a friend but you could not stop to take the time to talk things out. Especially when you knew I so badly wanted to talk. That I was hurting pretty bad yet still desperately trying to save us. Whatever was left of this 'friendship'. One that seemed we were both just set out to destroy with one stupid behaviour after another. One unforgiveable act after another. I wanted to talk things out, to try set the record straight. To have you say to my face what you really should and to let me just spill out whatever I'm feeling too. To get pass this limbo and just move on. I'm sure we could have, if only you'd have bothered to listen.

I hate you. I hate you for being a coward. And I hate you for the way you treated me. And I hate you for making me feel this way.

I know I'm flawed too. And if I gave you a chance you'll list every single one of my faults down and rub it in my face. But this is my letter. And I'm saying - I HATE YOU.

You had the audacity to talk to a friend about how you felt about me. Painted yourself to be a matyr I'm sure. Of course you claimed to be blameless. I'm the one who expected too much. I'm the one who wanted more. I'm the one who gave you a hard time. You told her things you should have told me. And I was really mad at you for it. Still am.

If I didn't behave the way a friend should have, you were much much worse. You led me on every step of the freaking way. Then you claimed innocent of every single act, every single line you uttered to me. But like a fool I was blinded by your easy charm and even easier smile.

Falling for you would be something I'd be able to live with. On my defense, you were an easy person to love. Or to want to love.

But what I'll not forgive or forget is how you decided to end it. How you didn't have the decency to hear me out. And how you went back on your promise to be my friend for always. No matter what. How you said you'd always be there for me - that I could rely on that much.

Such fat fucking lies.

I guess I should have known better. I mean words are just words. I've always held myself back from trusting people who say these things. I've always thought myself to be smarter than that.

I just thought you were different.

How bloody lame that sounds now.

Never again. Never EVER again.

And I'll get over you. I know I will. And I refuse to shed another tear for you.