Archive for the ‘girl stuff’ Category

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Love, marriage and other half-truths :.

November 24, 2007

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.

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Fetal Position :.

August 28, 2007

‘Sticks and stones will break my bones, but names will never hurt me.’ Is that how the childhood chant goes? The one that’s supposed to convince us that it doesn’t matter if someone calls you a ‘doody-head’ and makes you cry at the back of the classroom during recess.. because it’s just name-calling..

Flash forward to now.. We’re supposed to be older and wiser.. and some of us take pride in being called a ‘bitch’ because it means that we stand up for ourselves, but we secretly hurt because it still stings.. even when we’re supposed to be more self assured and confident.

Today was a day I wanted to curl myself up into a ball and hide in the darkest corner somewhere and not care about what someone close to me said. It hurt. It hurts twice as much because you respect and value that person so much that you would never think that they would say something like that. Actually, they’ve said worse. They’ve even said this horrible thing before.. but the scars have healed and the wound was forgotten, until today.

I pride myself on being a self-assured, confident, stand-up-for-myself and mine, ‘don’t take b.s’ kind of person.. It doesn’t mean that I’m not soft in the inside.. that I don’t have a heart.. or I’m not flesh and bone like everyone else..

So when I say something wounds me deeply, it does. It’s just that I can’t say anything to this person, because it would be disrespectful. I can only weep on the inside, where my tears flow free and the salt tries to heal the gaping wound inflicted by WORDS of all things.. A pen may be mightier than the sword.. But a sharp tongue can inflict savagery on a person that no sword or pen could come close to. Emotional pain. The kind that lingers long after the incident fades.. but lives on in bad memories and flashbacks.

Long after flesh heals, bruises disappear and scars fade.. the pain from words live on. It can drive a person to do pretty crazy things to themselves, break egos, shatter confidence.. I’ve known people who have become either buliemic or anorexic just because an offhand remark, “You need to lose some weight..” Others who are convinced of their mental ineptitude because a role model, a teacher had the audacity to say “Why can’t you get this? It’s so simple. You’re just stupid.” It may be just water under the bridge to others, but certain words hurt some more..  It’s because we’re already self-conscious about things, and to have it reiterated, re-infected in us in hurtful speech.. It can break someone.

I’m not going to let today’s incident break me. It’s going to smart a while though.. but I have so many bigger things to focus on.. It’ll just give me fuel to get me to where I want to go.. and just widen that ravine that makes me keep my distance.

But it still hurts.

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Unpure :.

August 24, 2007

Out of boredom, I was taking one of those ‘Purity Tests’ on Facebook today.. I thought it would be fun, and it was quite so actually!

Facebook Screenshot Purity

They ask a range of questions like ‘Made out in a car’ or ‘Kissed MSI in a horizontal position’, crap like that.. I was giggling to myself like crazy as I checked off the list, mentally imagining the moment that made each statement true. Yeah, I’ve done a lot of crazy things in my lifetime.. and I don’t regret a single one of them.. It was fun..

When the score came out, it was a brutal 15%.. enough to burn the eyebrows off my guardian angels..  Hmm.. Oh well, but I enjoy being bad.. *grins* It’s what made me who I am today, and I am certainly not a Vegas stripper, a porn star or a nymphomaniac.. Hmm.. Now I’m not too sure about that last one..

My friends know me well enough to accept my crazies and eccentricities, and love me for it (I hope). A couple have said that they live vicariously through me because they wouldn’t have the courage or the confidence to do some of the things I’ve done, and to be honest.. they are two of my closest confidantes, and they’re the ones that pick me up after an adventure gone wrong, dust me off, and send me out into the world again to live it up. I’m all too happy to tell them my wild tales, because I think that the world can handle only one of me.  It’s a lot safer and happier for the rest of yous that way.

I’m not saying it’s okay to be bad. I draw the fine line at socially unacceptable things. But if you’re brave enough, and keep safe, maybe you should tick a few things off that list. After all, a life half lived is sometimes no life at all.

Go out live a little, love a lot, and have fun, because life is too short to be a wet blanket.

Peace out.

sexy devil

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Natural Sleep :.

August 23, 2007

Lately I’ve been in bed by 9pm, 11 tops. My head hits the pillow, and I’m out like a light. I am ever so grateful for it..

My body has just learned to sleep naturally again. Before I was on a constant string of sleeping pills, and even then, I would only get 4 or 5 hours a night, it was never enough..

I know it’s not much to be thankful for, but for someone who hasn’t been sleeping properly for months.. it is a big deal.. I used to toss and turn in my bed.. wishing, praying, anguishing over the smallest details, because my eyes refused to cooperate with my tired body. Crazy thoughts would be flying around in my head.. and the more I longed for sleep, the crazier they’d get.

It’s worse when you’re emotional and tired.. You just want to cry yourself to sleep.. but when you’ve cried your eyes out, and can’t sleep.. you just want to cry some more.. and where does that get you?

The only thing I miss is the dreams. I don’t dream as much or as vividly when I’m resting quite well.. Maybe that’s a good thing, not so many crazy thoughts.. I counter that though with some pretty nice thoughts and memories just as I’m drifting to sleep..

Like… making out in the back of a bar like a teenager.. The first flirt over some beers and baseball.. The first kiss.. The first ride.. Stuff like that… It keeps a girl warm and fuzzy on the inside when the company in those thoughts is far away and yonder.

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He’s just that into you… :.

August 21, 2007

.. when he rides his bike across town, even to see you just for half an hour.

.. because he likes it when you put his hand over his heart, he even places it there himself.

.. when he looks into your eyes when you’re being intimate, and his stare is so intense, you have to look away. And you’re usually the intense one!

.. when he doesn’t say goodbye, he says ‘See you again.’

.. when he doesn’t care that he has to impress a village to go out with you.

.. when he says that his family will love you, and he means it.

.. when he just wants to touch your skin, any part, any where, he just wants to be ‘skin-to-skin’ with you.

.. if he will patiently wait for months just to see you again..

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Chocolate and reflection :.

August 20, 2007

Maybe I just get too much meaning from things.. Or maybe it is the universe giving me little signals and signs.

There’s this great internal restlessness in me. Not the usual kind. Something tells me I will not be content for a long time to come.

Yesterday, I started listlessly picking away at the messes in my life. My closet, my earthly possessions, old files and documents in my laptop. Things that I had hung on to long enough, that I wanted to let go of. I don’t want to be like my mother: a pack rat of sorts, she has this huge collection of hotel soaps and shampoos and other such things in her toilet, an assortment of pens and other stationery she never uses.. dramas that she has never watched.  She collects things, and she holds on so tight to them, that I think that she’s really forgotten her spiritual self. You can see her obsessive behavior from  all these useless and never to be used items, and you kind of wonder what kind of emotional state she is in.

Well, I don’t have to wonder. I know.

I never want to be like that. Hang on with an almost vulgar tightness to things.  It’s not that I don’t have my own collection of bits and bobs, handbags and shoes, sunglasses, comics and playing cards.. But these are things I will use… with the exception for my strange obsession for empty notebooks. That I cannot explain why I am compelled to buy beautiful books with empty pages, with the promises that I will fill them up.. and never get around to it. Is my self-fulfillment so empty that I have nothing to express?

Or is it a mere allegory to my life.. that I have so many journeys, physical and mental yet to be undertaken. Not that I haven’t gone through some pretty harrowing personal experiences.. but those things are scarred on my spirit.. and I will carry their memory forever more.. The more important self-journeys are yet to come I feel. But first, I need to escape the chains that bind me here.

Forgive me if I sound like I have an overinflated ego.. But I cannot help but feeling I was meant for more in this life. I don’t think that the powers that be would put you through a baptism by fire and let you live a quiet, inconsequential life after that. No, you’re put to the test to see if you are worthy of something.. And if you are able to emerge from the fire and flames, burned, scarred, but triumphant, then you have earned your stripes, and bigger things await, the future becomes uncertain, and definitely unsafe.

That reminds me of an old chinese curse I like to live by, “May you live in interesting times.”

Times of late have certainly been interesting.

I don’t feel as hollow or shallow as I once did. It’s more of some greatness waiting to be fulfilled.

If you’ve watched the ‘Pirates of the Caribbean’ trilogy, you’ll know about Jack Sparrow’s compass. It points to what the holder most wants in the world.

Right now I feel like that compass.. direction-less. You want so many things.. but none of them are a ‘true want’.  And the one thing I want to have most, is full of doubt and fear.. how can it be something I want most in the world?

Enough reflection. Chocolate awaits.

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New York Diary : Bitter Sweetness :.

August 12, 2007

This always happens to me.. I always fall for the guys that it’s not gonna work out with. This time it’s no different..

I don’t want to be a negative Nelly, but let’s face it.. Girls like me get the short end of the stick back home.. It seems the men there prefer small skinny girls who aren’t worldly or smarter than them..

Maybe I’m not smarter, I’ve just had a helluva lot more experience and have a different way of thinking. You can say I’m pretty mouthy too.. I think that would intimidate a lot of people.

I can’t help it though.. I don’t want to hide who I am.. nor do I want to change a thing.. But what I do want is to fall in love with someone who loves me ‘as is’ and is there for the long run.. and won’t take flight as soon as things get rough.

I’m a bit too lusty for life, and some of the things I do are crazy.. so when I find someone who accepts me, good side, bad side, warts and all, sees past all my mistakes, and doesn’t mistake my past.. I wanna hang on for dear life..

But all too often those guys are just beyond my reach, whether it’s distance, religion, or something else.

It’s hard being this Malay girl sometimes..  I don’t want to fault the culture or the religion I was born in, but it does make it harder for me to find something I long for dearly in my life..  And the tears don’t help, it just makes me bitter.

The last two days have been the most heartwarming and the most sad I’ve felt in a while. Happy for obvious reasons.. and sad, well, that realisation that my heart’s desire is so out of my reach. I’m reaching for the moon here..  It’s not that I ask for too much, it’s just that I want exactly what I am worth, no more, no less.

Sure, guys like that are… well, one in a million back home. So in a country with a population of less than a quarter of a million, my chances are what? O.4? That doesn’t seem like good odds for this girl, and does that mean that I’m gonna end up with 0.4 of a man? (If my math is wrong, you must forgive me, it’s not my strong point.)

So, as I look out on the sunset against the outlines of the buildings here, in my beloved love of a city.. I ponder the destiny of my love life.  I’m clutching onto the symbol of my lost love as I look out.. and my heart aches. I don’t just want someone to love and love me back, but that someone to start a family with, and a whole new adventure.

I may have found and lost one of my destinies in the same day, but maybe it’s not the last…  I may have so many more ahead of me..

Or maybe I just wasn’t meant for just one..

But whatever it was, I wish I had an idea or even a road map to what the hell is going on in my life.

For now though, I’d just settle for a sign that I’m not going to be alone forever.