I got damn chills down my spine just from watching this. Is it maybe because now we’re one step closer to watching my favourite team’s adventures end?
When this comes out on DVD, I’m seriously thinking about hiring a damn cinema screen just to watch it. Even if I have to watch it alone. Just to do this the justice it deserves.
Love and marriage, love and marriage,
Go together like a horse and carriage..
Wasn’t that how the theme song of “Married with Children..” That was a funny show. I loved how dysfuctional that family was.
Okay, enough fluff.
Marriage, that’s the buzzword these days. No matter where I am, that word inevitably pops up in conversation, bringing with it the good, the bad and the ugly. Mostly the latter reaches my ears though. And it makes me more determined to enjoy my life and be true to me before I settle down.
I don’t have to look far for examples of marriages that don’t work. In all honesty, my parents marriage has hardly been all hearts and roses the past 7 years. There are times, I don’t know, I just want to ask my parents to go and get the hell divorced because I am so sick and tired of living day to day in a warzone. There are times I’ve had to choose sides, and it kills me on the inside, because as much as I am Daddy’s little girl, I love my mom too. But little miracles happen, and they stay together another day. Often I do wonder why they do, is it because they love each other, or they’re just too old to live without each other?
Excuse my cynicism when I illustrate with another point. I’ve got friends in marriages who are so unhappy, they have to find other pursuits. Loveless marriages, the only glue keeping it together are either children or family pressure. Some are just with their significant other because they’re too afraid that if they leave, they may just end up alone. And the thing is, they pop up so often, you wonder if there are any ‘real’ marriages left in the world?
Like anyone and everyone else, I am myself afraid to be alone. I feel like there’s this missing part of me because I long for someone to share my life with, give all of my heart and soul; full and complete. It’s not that my life is lacking because I don’t have someone, but it would be more richer with someone in it.
But I guess I’d rather be alone than be in a loveless marriage, bitter and angry at my husband, and forced to pursue extramarital affairs just to keep myself sane.
Typical scorpio, it’s either all or nothing, either one of two extremes and never in between.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not pooh-poohing the whole institution of marriage. I do have illusions and dreams of adjusting my husband’s tie before he goes to work, sitting by the sink as I watch him shave, having all out spats and making up on the kitchen floor later. But I think I’d rather wait it out and find someone who I can be happy with the rest of my life.
Maybe I ask for too much. Yes, I’d love a guy with Hayden Christensen’s brooding looks, or Jake Gyllenhaal’s dark, blue eyed gorgeousness.. But you don’t have to be hot or cute to get me. I’ve said before “Romance my mind and you have my heart,” I’d love someone who has much to teach me and open my eyes. But by the same token, he should be ready to learn from me, seek adventure and love life. I’d enjoy the give and take of good intellectual conversation for the rest of my life. Yes, and he should be tolerant enough of my ‘blonde moments’ and my demanding personality.
Back in August, I was sitting with Gray Eyes in ‘The Dead Poet’s Society’ and he was listening raptly to what I was saying, and wasn’t even shocked when I revealed a little of my wild side. I could live that afternoon ala ‘Groundhog Day’ forever, because I saw in his eyes, not just wisdom from living a lot longer than I have, and living on the other side of the world I have known, but, this great sense of eagerness to listen and learn to what I have to say. When I was telling him about how engagements go in Brunei, (‘The Village’, our inside joke), he just so earnestly wanted to know more.
I want that from a guy, that you never stop getting to know me. The same way I’ll continually discover new things about you everyday, even if it’s the fact that you have this aim to collect 100 plastic lobsters from a particular restaurant on the Upper East Side that gives you one everytime you eat a lobster there.
I was never a ‘sweet kind of romance’ girl. Don’t give me roses, give me gerberas. And call them by the nickname I give them. I don’t want cute bears with hearts, give me a Stitch or Yoda doll. You don’t need to sing me “I will always love you”, sing to me your favourite song of all time badly on karaoke. Even if it’s Aqua’s Barbie Girl. Give me a thousand memories, rather than one super romantic moment.
I in turn, will probably laugh at you if you accidentally swallow the ring while drinking the champagne it’s in. And then I’ll help you by performing the Heimlich maneuver when you’ve almost turned purple.
I don’t care if ends up the most spontaneous yet manky ‘Britney’ quickie wedding in Vegas with the worst looking ‘Fat Elvis’ presiding. Janji saja sayang selamanya. (Just promise you’ll love me forever.)
No, I don’t want to be unhappy in a marriage because I said yes to the wrong guy, because I had an ‘accident’, because I just didn’t want to be alone.
And I could have very much made that mistake earlier this year, with Zz. I’m glad that my reluctant heart hung in there as long as it did, and didn’t fall for all the songs of romance and perfect companionship. No. It wanted the right love, and it wasn’t going to settle for anything less.
If anything, all of these words that have been burning my ears have made me realise, I’m going to wait for the right one. Not Prince Charming, but the guy who will understand that his geek wife will get dressed up in cosplay and drag him around to Sci-fi conventions.
It’s better to wait than regret. I don’t want the only regret in my life to be the biggest burden for the rest of it.
One family of cousins all got married in their 30’s, and they seem to have done alright for themselves. Even though they were the talk of the family, and the subject of clucking tongues for the longest time, they decided they were going to do the right thing and wait. And wait they did, they’re all happy, with no pressure to spawn future progeny anytime soon, all taking it at their sweet pace.
And under the very same roof as one dysfuctional marriage, a life’s journey between two kindred souls has begun and blossoms more with each passing day. I talk, of course, about my sister and her wonderful husband. The very same people who gave me a song and dance routine for my birthday, complete with excited, high pitched singing. Their love story started a long time ago back in High School, but unlike High School sweethearts, they didn’t get together until later. No, the romance in their story comes from a single page, with a pencil drawn sketch of a rose.
When my sister first left for the UK, her classmate handed her a letter of several pages, wishing her luck, and so much more. One of those pages contained that hand-pencilled sketch, which my sister kept along with the letter.
Several years away studying, and a VERY BAD BOYFRIEND later, these two souls would be reunited as friends, and start spending more and more time together. And last year, they got married, despite initial parental resistance, and differences in education and status, which in the end, truly didn’t matter.
Today, that pencil sketch is framed and hangs in their bedroom, as testament to a love that started long ago, but didn’t blossom until late. The rose has become their logo, and their love just evermore grows.
I will not get caught up in the excitement and wanting of all engagements and marriages around me. I will not be brainwashed by the cutest babies in the world, and googley eyed couples. I will not envy the happiness of my friends as they take the next steps towards the rest of their lives. My time will come.
But I reserve the right to be Bridezilla, and squee myself hoarse when the time does come. And until it does, I will wait.
Not that it just occurred to me, but two separate incidents in the last couple of days made me think about how I can’t just be just anyone walking down the street or collecting my mail at the post office.
A couple of days ago when I was collecting my parcel at the office, the lady customs officer who was examining my parcel took one long look at me, and asked directly, “Are you so and so’s granddaughter?” Though I was taken aback at how she could recognise me from my family tree no less, I answered yes. Then she proceeded to question me about my parents. Though slightly annoyed, all I could do was smile, and answer questions about my mother and my grandmother, wishing that she would hurry it up and I could leave and examine my goodies in the privacy of my car.
Today, I was at one of my favourite local Indian, waiting for my egg bread, when I thought I heard my father’s name being mentioned. Then I also heard my dad’s former workplace said too. I groaned inwardly, as the table I was standing close by to was probably either a bunch of distant relatives or my dad’s friends. Just when I thought they could say all they could, the man who had been talking mentioned that I was probably the unmarried one. I was so grateful that my food was ready and I could flee quickly, and walked off as fast as I could in my baju kurung.
My parents are good people, and lots of people know them, this I don’t mind. But it kinda puts me off when the conversation starts involving me. Here, as I’ve said before, you’re never your own person, you’re always somebody’s daughter, granddaughter, etc. I miss London where I was so anonymous, I could walk down the street in my jammies and fuzzy slippers (Edgware Road, late one summer’s night, I was desperate and hungry and didn’t give a damn) and no one gave a fcuk or knew who I was. Hell, I once ran around the London Eye on New Years in a teeny tiny skirt, a big old parka, and heels.. randomly hugging people and wishing them “Happy New Year..” and the next morning (late afternoon, really) I didn’t have to worry about my conduct or clothing making the rounds on the BGN (Bruneian Gossip Network).
I guess really you could blame the fact that there’s nothing to do here except eat and gossip, and not necessarily in that order. *sigh*
I can’t wait to move to a faraway land where being someone’s daughter doesn’t matter.
The father gave me a look of pure disappointment as I walked in at the not-so-ungodly hour of 8.15pm. I pretend I don’t care, but I really do. It’s just the daughter in me, wanting not to disappoint and play it dutiful. But that’s not really me, so I brushed off the guilt and ran upstairs to continue the ‘party of one.’
Despite my best smile, and the thought of the party tomorrow, I can’t help but sit and cry and miss my Gray Eyes. He’s working hard during Thanksgiving. I know it’s for me. I wish that I would wake up one of these days and not be alone, that I’d wake up hearing his soft breath by my ear, and feeling the fuzzyness of his beard caressing my face. Even though I hate winter with a vengance, I want to wake up to a cold New York morning with Gray Eyes, and go out with him grab H&H bagels, and walk leisurely in the freezing cold snuggled in his arms.
Then I think about everything I would have to sacrifice to be with him. My family, friends, and perhaps the country of my birth which I long to raise my children in. Though nothing prepares me for that.. I don’t think I could live a life of loneliness. I would sacrifice it all in the name of love. Not just love though.. I’d sacrifice it all, just to live a life so free.
And as the days go by, and I get closer to that date I so long for. Much fear, anticipation, hope and courage fill my heart. I’m like a soldier readying for war, you can prepare all you like, but nothing could ever really prepare you for the true horrors about to be faced.
When that date comes, I’ll know if I cease to be a daughter. And no matter how the decision goes, I’ll have to live with it.
All in the name of living a life you want to lead, and not the life chosen for you.
I’m not selfish. I just want to be me.
Whoa, Wednesday crept up on me unawares.. I guess I’ve been partying too hard. The date of doom has come and gone, my emotional spiral has finally stabilised and I had the best damn birthday weekend ever. I’ll blog about that on a later date, I suppose.
Today is my Brother-in-law’s birthday. The quiet unassuming guy who will break out into song with his wife. I think he and my sister are a pair and a half..
My strange bruises are slowly disappearing. I have these two odd bruises, one on the upper wrist/lower thumb area of my right hand, and the other in the fleshy lower part of my left arm. Very odd. They are just in such odd places, that I can’t help but think about where I got them.
A couple of items I ordered from eBay ages ago have finally arrived. My magic moisturiser and a couple of DVDs. I’m still waiting on my hair products from the U.S and the Transformers posters for my brother’s birthday. 
His birthday was back in September. Can’t blame the post office though, because if it hasn’t arrived there yet, obviously I can’t collect it.
Last night, I went with Green to meet Doris to collect my ring and oogle jewelry. I bought a couple of other pieces that I’m so in love with, a butterfly pendant and a pair of pink star earrings. I’m really hoping that Doris can order the shamrock earrings for me. I wish I had bought them at the BCL event a couple of weeks ago. I’m having the ring resized, and a necklace loop made for the pendant at a silversmith. I hope it won’t cost a bomb.
I find myself missing a couple of people who are not so far away. I miss my little moments with them. Is it because that I’ve had so many of these that now I’m being greedy and wanting more? All I know is, all these little moments fan the flames, and I feel so alive because of it.
I just want to run around and feel.
Ice and snowflakes falling everywhere…
Tiny crystals shining in her hair
Mouse in hand, she stood waiting
Heart beating fast, anticipating,
But when she looked he wasn’t even anywhere.
Yesterday was quite an adventure and a half. After a really awful morning which I couldn’t get my head together at all.. I decided to fcuk it all, and go for a very spontaneous road trip to Seria. Gay Husband D-leng, came along for company and to give me directions, I was so ‘siuk sendiri’, singing in the car and just ‘layaning’ every whim. Because sometimes you just gotta do that.
I honestly don’t know what compelled me to want to drive across the country, just to go to Naafi, a supermarket of sorts in the British Garrison in Seria. But sometimes, you just gotta drive, far and fast. Serenity had her work cut out for her, certainly, since I had to hurry back. But it felt good to be somewhere different, even if it is in the same country. I’m not familiar with Seria, so I was looking at it with quite fresh eyes. The people there say it’s too quiet. I found it quite calming. It just reminded me about how much I need to get away from the toxic atmosphere of home.
I went over to D’s again to hang with the gang, which was a great respite. I loved just having girl time, playing cards and chatting. Seriously, ever since I taught D-leng and J-leng to play Big Two, they’ve been playing like crazy. But it’s cool, I was in that phase once. Except I was so obsessed with the game, I ended up playing triple games myself. My favourite playing partners are in London for now, so it’s nice to have some new people to play with, especially those that really challenge my game.
I’ve noticed, (actually, I know) that my moods have been more or less… psycho? And I’m taking it out on my friends. I really don’t like myself at this point in time. I find myself emoting first, thinking later, and regretting it often. I’m so not in control of things right now. I can only keep my fingers crossed and hope for the best, I suppose. My famous last words are probably “I have a plan,” and as always I do. Executing this one will be a feat and a half though, and it may just change not only the course of my life, but affect my relationship with my family, for better or for worse.
Meanwhile, my little distraction keeps surprising me. Some pleasant, some I find odd, but mostly piqued my curiosity. It’s easier to wake up with a smile when you have something to look forward to. Little encounters that keep the body warm, which in turn, keeps the heart warm, and hope alive. It’s a little callous to use someone else to keep the heart warm for someone else, but we both know the status quo, and it’s fine with both of us. And I don’t have to worry about getting my heart stepped on, used up and spat out. No, I’ve had more than my share of that, and I think I’ve tortured my heart enough in my own short lifetime.
So yesterday was emotional, journeying, amazing and fun. And I wouldn’t change any a second of it.
This week there’s a whole slew of birthday babies. With mine right around the corner, I’ve more or less started the downward emotional spiral.
I’ve really tried to just keep my standards low, and not expect anything this year. No. If it sucks, it sucks, if it rocks, it rocks.
It’s of little consequence anymore, because the older I get anyway, things don’t change. I’m still expected to be home early, blah, blah, blah, staying under the thumb of my over protective parents, and do exactly as they say.
I’m going to keep my excitement for the bigger picture. You know, that city with the bright lights? Yeah. There’s this plan forming slowly in my head. It’s the only way to make my dream come true.
So Saturday, I’m just going to have dinner out with Green, that’s fine, as long as I get my lamb and mint jelly, then I’m a happy bunny. Think I might just straighten my hair this Saturday too.. the roots are beginning to annoy me. I don’t want to get to the point where it gets on my nerves.
Someone was asking me why I don’t want to big up my birthday.. Let me put in this way, in the scheme of things, were I that important, the birthday would be big, no matter what. So I guess consequentially, I’m not really that important. And besides, I can forget about the sycophants, and control freaks, and non-friends when I move. Period. I’ve got so much to worry about personally, that sometimes, things like your birthday aren’t just really that important anymore. It’s more important to get out and get free now. I’m just tired of other people’s whims and being the so-called ‘burden’ in peoples lives.
If you wanna give me something, give me freedom.
I don’t change lives with enigmatic speaking and wise words, I don’t save people from falling buildings and car accidents.. Sometimes, all it feels like is that the only reason I’m here is to prop up my parents when they need someone to look after them, and give the rest of Brunei fodder to talk about.
No.
That’s not my life. My spirit was too free, too wild, too untamed to ever live here in a half non-existence. I’m not afraid. I am not afraid to work from the ground up to build a life for myself. A life that I really, really want. A life where I’m not just someone’s sister or daughter, where I’m not 2nd place, where I’m not supposedly causing grief, or crying everyday on the inside. To strike out on your own. It’s almost unheard of here.
No matter how old you are, you’re still someone’s child here. People ask, “Anak siapa?”, and continually blame parents for current and future transgressions. I want to be in a place, where people see you, not your parents, where my credibility doesn’t stand because I’m this person’s daughter.
Okay, I’m tired and I’m angry, and I could probably go on forever, but I won’t.
Dear parents,
If you love me, set me free.
Love,
Your wayward, independent, free-spirited daughter.
I was up until four in the morning last night, dreaming about possibilities and maybes. That one city that holds the key to my heart kept me awake because I longed so much for her.
I was surfing for song lyrics, when I came across this song, and the lyrics just hit me so hard I actually teared up.
I gotta get there, somehow.. This song helped keep the dream alive today.
So many dreams come and go
We blink our eyes
Time flies by we don’t know
What ever happened to those childhood years?
When we thought we could fly
We got to keep those dreams alive
And dream like New York
As high as the skyline
Aim for the stars above those city lights
I want to dream like New York
I’m running down Broadway
I got to catch the next train
I’m making my way
Race to work again today
From nine to five
I only strive to stay awake
But the child inside me
Dares to believe I still can fly
Can’t let those dreams just die
I got to dream like New York
As high as the skyline
Aim for the stars above those city lights
I want to dream like New York
I’m running down Broadway
I got to catch the next train
I’m making my way
How many times have u tried and failed?
Have you watched your dreams slip away?
Well every hero falls and every soldier crawls.
And every dreamer dreams again
Got to dream again
Go on and dream like New York
As high as the skylines
Aim for the stars above those city lights
Go on and dream like New York
Run on down Broadway
Catch the next train
Go make your way
Go on and dream like NY
As high as the skylines
Aim for the stars above those city lights
You got to dream like NY
Run on down Broadway
Catch the next train
Go make your way
Go make your way
Go make your way
I love this commercial.
I still want a Mercedes-Benz, Lord. A newer one please. Thanks. Send it via Santa.
My little distraction is proving to be a little difficult. And I’m wondering if it’s actually worth the wondering.
I enjoy it, it gives me something to look forward to each day, but we’re each our own people, and two very different people. You could say that we’re opposite ends of the spectrum. I confess to being a demanding, high-maintenance, perhaps spoiled little princess sometimes. One boyfriend likened me to a cat, I needed to be petted, fussed over, will demand attention and be finicky. Me-oow.
It confuses me how I can be so independent and so manja at the same time. But that’s just me. I don’t need to explain myself.
Anyway, getting back, I was just wondering if it was because I was so… that I’m thinking this is all just a big fuss for a small song and dance. Is it worth for me to keep playing the game, or should I just end all grievances now? I don’t need drama. I have enough, thank you very much. What this girl needs is some fun.
But then again, every time I get so annoyed that I want to rubbish everything, he surprises me. And I get interested again.
Okay, is it just that I’m not familiar with Bruneian dating mind games that I seriously don’t know what’s going on?
I’ve dated only two Bruneian guys in my life. The rest were an assortment I had back in London. I can seriously get behind the whole relationship with a ‘Mat Salleh’, the ins and outs of the dating game, how to tell whether it’s a fling, a one-nighter or a keepawhile, but when it comes to Bruneian guys, I haven’t a clue. Do they want all-demure sweet girls? Do I have to dial back the IQ a few notches? Do I have to cut back on the funny? I know it can’t be the boobs, because everyone loves the boobs.
Dating mind games, seriously. Maybe I’m so out of practice, I’ve forgotten how to play. I really need to get me out of here, and onto a level playing field. Preferably London or New York. My XBox scores are pretty high there.
I would never give back the love you gave me
I would never undo the past that made me
Even when the memories hurt, it would only make me feel worse
If I were to give back the love you gave me
You were never more than 15 minutes away from me
Growing up on the very same street, never you without me
I was there when you crashed and you burned and cut off your hair
It was me that helped you find your way back from nowhere
Time flies and wipes away all my regrets
So young how could we know what we had and now that I know I won’t forget.
I would never give back the love you gave me
I would never undo the past that made me
Even when the memories hurt, it would only make me feel worse
If I were to give back the love you gave me.
Always seemed like you saw something no one else could see
There were nights when you burned so bright I thought that you would blind me
I was there when you cried through the night and you let your guard down
I was there when you stepped off track and started running around
Time flies wipes away is a regret
So young how could we know what we had and now that I know I won’t forget
I would never give back the love you gave me
I would never undo the past that made me
Even when the memories hurt, it would only make me feel worse
If I were to give back the love you gave me
When your promise was broken
That’s when your love was stolen from me
I’m on my knees
All I have left is just your memories
I would never give back the love you gave me
I would never undo the past that made me
Even when the memories hurt, it would only make me feel worse
If I were to give back the love you gave me
Maybe it’s the music.. Maybe it’s that I’ve fallen in love with life all over again.. Or maybe it’s because I’m watching wonderful beautiful romances bloom in the gardens of my friends..
I’ve been listening to Gipsy Kings for most of today and over the weekend. The music makes me get up and dance, and fortunately, I have plenty of room to shake my booty like an idiot.. If I had a partner, I’d cause a lot of damage.
I was having a crazy daydream, about visiting a friend in Egypt, and we’d take off to Italy or Spain, and dance in the cobblestone streets.
That would be cool. The other would be to have a party at my house, and dancing to the Gipsy Kings.
I wonder where my wandering brain will take me next.. : )
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Since I've found Serenity.. 