Fumbling in the dark Its strange how, without even realising you could stuck in a limbo and not realise until things take a turn for the worse. For the past year or so I had been in a situation where I thought could very possibly be normal, until I realised that it wasn’t. For a long time I thought I had a companion in somebody, that I wasn’t actually as lonely as I thought I could possibly be. So I spent a long time sheathed in this sense of false-security that was so real that no one realised that I could very possibly be unhappy when I thought I was. And I really thought I was happy, that I had found happiness, however short-lived it could be. Then for the past couple of days I finally realised that what I was feeling wasn’t exactly a genuine truth of happiness. I had lulled myself into thinking I was. In actual fact I was the one walking alone in the dark, trying to figure a way out of this, thinking that there was somebody beside me. Perhaps there was someone there because I was so sure I felt a presence. Or was it all part of my imagination? Because when the lights finally came on, brought on by nothing less than sheer irony, I found out that I was actually alone. So this is where you were, and this is where I’ve been. American Boy - Estelle Emotionally Unavailable. That’s what she said I was. How can you expect to be able to establish something tangible with him when you cannot avail yourself to him? If its not for the physical aspects of the relationship, what else have you got to offer him? Company? Does he not have friends for that? You cannot expect to carry on with this for a long time simply because nothing would come out from this. Sure, you can provide him with your undivided attention and company for the next two years. Then you start to get attached to each other. And what if he finds someone new, someone he can spend for the rest of his life, someone he can see the future with? What would you do? Would you be gracious enough to just let it go? Disappointed. I wondered if I was being too much of a dreamer or that I had expected too much. He was a fresh breath among all the others, a little different, something which I thought had sparked something in me. 4 days later I realised I was so wrong, he was just like all the others. Was it too much to harbour some semblance of an expectation, or was I simply being unrealistic? Out, damned spot! Sometimes all I need is one night to get you out of my system. Is that too much to ask, too difficult to obtain, or impossible to pursue? and also… some people you just need to get out of your system, in the only way possible. People There are just certain types of people whom I have soft spots for. No money, no honey? How far would you go for sex? No, seriously. There are some who would drive for 30 mins for an hour or so of action, others might cancel everything on their schedule for a lunchtime quickie. But would you pay for sex? More precisely, would you rather pay for sex than spend time to get to know someone? Sure, sometimes you really just want the action without actually having to get to know someone because sometimes it complicates matters doesn’t it? What really freaks me out is that there are people out there who would rather pay for sex than to establish a normal, healthy, FB-type relationship with women. They say things like “quality not so good”, referring to the average woman, comparing them to those who actually depend on how they look for a living. I mean, wake up and smell the hot chocolate, if you are looking for a gorgeous girl with a gorgeous body, how many average women actually look like that? And when you compare it with someone who obviously sells how she looks for a living, you’re not comparing like with like isn’t it? Would you pay $5 for a fuji apple which doesn’t fulfill the basic criteria needed for it to be a fuji apple? But hey, if you got it for free, you probably wouldn’t mind right? So what I really cannot seem to understand is why men would pay for sex? I always had the impression that the ones who have to resort to paying for sex are 1) the virgins who are too shy to ask anyone out but feel the need to be, urm, de-virginized, 2) the old men who obviously have difficulty in finding a partner. So anyone who doesn’t fall into that category obviously doesn’t have to pay for sex right? Wrong. Looks like there are men out there who, despite having decent social skills, would rather pay for sex than to actually take time to know someone (even if its just buying her a drink). Which is, in all honesty, really freaky. Watch Wall-E!T I have no idea what this is but I was tagged by the Dude, so there =) All you have to to is to copy the whole chunk below on to your blog, and then add your own “The Craziest thing I did for Love” after mine. And remember to also put the “Catch Wall-E…” thing and your blog address after that. Easy peasy! (1) The craziest thing I have done for love is believing it is love when it actually was a booty call… Catch Wall-E in cinemas from 28 August 2008″ (ORIGINATOR BLOG: http://the-hb-diaries.blogspot.com) (2) the craziest thing I have ever done for love, it’s standing out in the rain with an umbrella waiting to catch a glimpse of this girl I had a crush on…just to ask her for her name and number. …hey, I was 18 then! Catch Wall-E in cinemas from 28 August 2008″ (http://www.peranakandude.com/) (3) The craziest thing I did for love was to get into a long-distance relationship with someone I barely met and barely knew, and we actually kept that up for a year before we called it quits! Catch Wall-E in cinemas from 28 August 2008″ (http://atticroses.wordpress.com) And I’m tagging: A Tiny Blip Guerilla Moon Liquid Ecstasy Spank the Male Nurse Spinnee The Crazy Days The Sea Within Vandalin Slap me, I’m a Pervert. I was trawling the web for American Psycho reviews and analysis (okay fine, I wanted to see Christian Bale nekkid), when I came across this picture. Christian Bale, naked, covered with blood, and diabolically holding a chainsaw. Orgasm worthy I’m sure. But wait, there’s more!! It wasn’t until that split second before I closed the window that I caught a glimpse of his…schlong!! Well, I can’t really tell from here, but I don’t think that is his erected state right? Because it would be really weird to get an erection from running around with a chainsaw in some soundstage or studio, unless he was really getting into character because Patrick Bateman is some psycho who actually gets a kick out of stuff like this. Of course, judging from the size of that thing, I sure hope that he isn’t getting an erection in this picture. Peeves Everyone above the age of 18 has gone through this one time or another. Random strangers calling you up and telling you about their new card/insurance plan/finance packages. I mean, I’m sure telemarketing can be a convenient way to shop for these things, especially when we don’t always have time to go find out about insurance plans and packages, or when you need something but you don’t really need it. But I think telemarketing is something everyone hates, but ever wondered why there are still people who do it? Because they were promised a “low basic pay, high commission”. No one ever tells them how hard the job is, everyone keeps telling them that they will get a high comission, they would be able to earn more than $2,000 a month, and on top of it all, they are given very attractive incentives “sell 1 and get $50, sell two and get $150″ kinda thing. But that’s besides the point. As much as I sometimes sympathise with these telemarketers sometimes, I always get annoyed when I receive one of these calls. Everyone is provided a script, but why must you sound like you are reading from a script? Personally I would feel more inclined to buy something or sign up for something if the service is a little more personable, and reading from a script is definitely not it. Also, these telemarketers are taught to be aggressive, not that its a bad thing but if you call me and start rattling off about your product and end it with, “so can I verify your address and details so that I can sign you up for it?”. I understand how this all works, that your do what you have to do all at one short so the person on the other end doesn’t have time to say no even before you’re done. But this is annoying because it works on the assumption that at the end of the conversation I would be inclined to sign up for your product willingly with no questions asked. There’s nothing wrong with selling me credit cards or insurance policies over the phone, but why can’t you take no for an answer? I received a call yesterday from this girl who introduced herself so quickly that I didn’t even get her name, and then proceeded to tell me how banks charge me a very low interest rate such that if I deposited $100 I would only get $2 back at the end of the year, while if I left my $100 with this particular plan I’d get $500 back in return. Okay, this was from a reputable insurance company so I shall say nothing more except that I’m sure there’s a caveat somewhere that explains this strangely skewed number. I mean, it’s simple maths right? And some simple financial/economic sense. So when this girl was done she asked if she could arrange a meeting so that they could explain in detail to me. At any other circumstance I would humour her and agree (since somewhere along the way we would need some insurance plan right?). But at this point where I’m just joining the workforce with no steady income I’d rather save the money for later. So I politely declined, to which I expected some kind of “Oh thank you for your time then” sorta thing, which I’m used to with the banks. So I was rather taken aback when she asked why I wasn’t interested. I mean, I understand if you’d want to know in what ways your product is not attractive, but there are different tones of voice for different situations. So when she asked “why aren’t you interested?” instead of “if you don’t mind me asking, why aren’t you interested?”. I was mildly annoyed. To which I replied Oh, I’m not working now, so I don’t think I want to put my money into this. And when I expected her to give up, she insisted that I should invest my money into her package to gain returns instead. Why doesn’t anyone take no for an answer these days? Skeletons in the Closet So I was out having a late night coffee a couple of weeks ago with a couple of close friends from University. As usual we started lamenting about our lack of social lives (because of work), love lives, sex lives, and money. And then somehow along the conversation I drifted off into my own thoughts (happens very frequently), and it struck me, Is it reasonable to cast doubts over a friend because of something she’s said, or something that it seems like she’s trying to hide? More importantly, do we as friends, expect our friends to be completely truthful to us about their lives, past and present? I’m not the best judge of character, there have been times in my life where my better judgement vanished into thin air and people of questionable character found their way into my life. Not that it makes me anymore wary when it comes to choosing my friends, but I think I’ve learnt my lessons well. Which is why I sometimes find myself silently questioning, doubting my friends when they tell me things, or try to explain situations to me. Which was exactly what I found myself doing while sipping on my teh-peng. I mean, to be someone’s friend, there is a certain confidentiality assumption here, isn’t there? When you have secrets to share, you naturally go to your friends whom you know will keep your secrets. And I’m talking about the really serious ones here like “I’m sleeping with a married man” type secrets. Things like “I shat in my underwear” doesn’t really count because, let’s face it, it’s a good story to tell to get the crowd going in parties, no? So here I am, feeling slightly betrayed that my friend seems to be hiding something from me, because she’s started to stammer, the erms and hums are popping into the conversation (when they don’t usually do), and then an explanation quickly makes its way in, and out of the conversation. And I’m thinking, “okaaay, she seems to be hiding something from me”. Then I caught myself just in time. I mean, I have my fair share of secrets. Secrets that are deemed worthy enough to be posted on an anonymous blog for the whole world to see, but just not good enough for my friends to know. I mean, not that I don’t trust my friends enough to know my “I slept with a married man” type secrets, but in certain situations and circumstances, some secrets are better left in the closet. So I’m entitled my fair share of secrets, and so is my friend. It may not be the time and place for her to share them, but perhaps she might want to tell me in future (or maybe not). But whatever it is, there’s no reason for me to doubt my friend just because she seems hesitant in saying something, because hey, I have my un-tell-able secrets too. Sat, 02 Aug 2008 18:01:18 +0000 I never fail to be confused why some people get married or get themselves committed to a long-term relationship. I mean, I can understand why people get married, or get into a long-term relationship, if its purely because you want to spend your life with that person, then I say go right ahead. If he/she makes you happy and you want to be with him all the time, and you can see yourself spending the rest of your life with him in bliss, then its a good thing, no? I can also understand if you’re in a long-term relationship and you have sexual relations with someone outside of this relationship. I mean, I cannot imagine just having sex with one person for the rest of my life. Of course, this is taking into account that I have not yet met someone whom I might want to give up sex with random people for the rest of my life. Of course, I’m diving into the possibility that if you do meet someone special enough, you would feel compelled to give up sex of all types except with that one person. If you’re in a long-term relationship, married or otherwise, and you have maybe a sort of arrangement with someone else purely for sex, I can (somewhat) understand. We all have needs, and just because your soulmate is your soulmate, it doesn’t mean that she would necessarily share some of your kinks in the bedroom. If you need someone to satisfy that, then by all means, go ahead. But what I don’t quite get is how people can have silly schoolgirl crushes even though they are in said long-term relationships. I mean, when you have a sexual relationship with a person, the mutual understanding is there. You have sex, share bits and pieces of your life, form a sort of friendship with that person, and thats about it. That I can totally understand. Let me get this straight, if you’re in a relationship with someone, to be committed to that person, there must be something between the two of you that makes it special, that obviously you don’t/can’t have with another person. If that’s the case, then how is it possible to get all giggly and schoolgirlish over someone else? Am I missing out on something here? Why so silent? Okay, that was a god-awful title. Apologies for not updating, have been pretty busy and honestly I’m still suffering from that annoying writer’s block that plagues me far more than I would really like it to (if I would even like it at all!). I should be working on new posts soon, and until then please bear with the deadly silence! Gosh. Some days, its just hard to be the other person that I also call Me. Why So Serious? I’ve made known my love for superheroes more than once on this blog, and I must say it again, is it just me or does Christian Bale look much hotter and manlier in that hilarious suit? Aaaanyway.. I must admit that I was never really a huge fan of Heath Ledger, sure, he’s a good actor, and he was hilarious in 10 Things I Hate About You, but after that he fell off the radar for me, his performance in First Knight was lacklustre, but Brokeback Mountain just did it for me. I hate to say this but I am a little homophobic (what with my little obsession for women and all), and I did get into some trouble because of that movie (another story for another time). So when the news came around that he was playing Joker in the latest Batman instalment, I wasn’t exactly thrilled because Jack Nicholson was a pretty good Joker, no? (Has anyone seen pictures of him parading his gut on the beaches of…some exotic island? Goodness!) Then the production stills came out, which were..not bad I must say, then came the news of his death and then somehow it become an opportunity for people to start talking about the movie. Not very classy. But I always give credit where credit is due and Heath’s performance in The Dark Knight was award-worthy. He brings a new sense of crazed lawlessness and mild comedy which the entire franchise has never ever seen. This guy acted like he was born for the role, the crazed laughter, the haphazardly-applied makeup, the ever changing stories of how he got those scars?  And how about the little skips he does when he’s oh-so-excited about blowing up the entire Gotham General? Christopher Nolan’s Batman is alot about making choices, more so than the previous installments, and Nolan’s Batman is alot about the morality behind being Batman and being his adversaries - good against evil, order against chaos. Ledger’s Joker brings that in a disturbing yet strangely comedic manner. In Joker you truly believe that perhaps sometimes the fun is really in just blowing shit up instead of making ridiculous amounts of money through organized crime, in breaking rules, in having plans. In a way, The Dark Knight is about dichotomies, and the Joker plays the perfect antithesis to Batman’s entire being, and perhaps even highlights some of Batman’s struggles within himself, and this is evident in dialogues between the two. There is always one for every superhero, and in The Dark Knight, Joker completes Batman. In roles that require feature-obscuring makeup, its really the nuances that count, and Heath Ledger brings this out in the most subtle ways. The obsessive-perverted lip licking, the intense stare, that hint of glee in his eyes when he’s blowing something up, that sinister, pitched tone he adopted for the movie (do a search on YouTube and you’ll realise his voice is actually slightly lower and less pinched). They all add up to make Christopher Nolan’s Joker truly unique. Except that when Christopher Nolan’s Joker lands in the hands of Heath Ledger, he takes the morality, the issues on choice, up to the next level and makes the character truly his to keep. Heath Ledger took one of DC’s most crazed and well-known villians, turned him into something more sinister and perhaps even more “Joker” than his predecessor did, and truly made it his own. The fact that he would no longer be able to reprise this role makes it even more significant in the history of the Batman enterprise. Will any other actor surpass him in this performance? Not impossible. Will we remember Heath’s Joker for years to come? Most definitely. So here’s to you Heath Ledger, and for landing yourself a permanent spot in film’s Super-villain’s Hall of Fame. You know, madness is alot like gravity, all you need is a little push. Sex and such I’m only tempted to blog because 1) Someone happened to ask today why I wasn’t blogging, 2) PeranakanDude’s entry (blog entry, what were you dirty people thinking?) got me riled up (well not really) about something I feel rather passionately about. Yeah, sex. We all feel passionately about it, whether it is the lack of it or too much (the only people who might complain might be those who suffer from the scientific fact that friction *does* cause wear and tear), everyone has something to say, or show. People often engage in show and tell, whether it is just to show off (”Hey I bonked a really cute dude last night.” Oh yeah? Bet he has a really small dick to match that pretty face *cue snigger*), or to prove to themselves that deep down inside they are really awesomely hot. Yeah, I’m talking about sex bloggers/blogging about sex. Wait a minute, I used to do that, I blog about my escapades and then I post really raunchy pictures for everyone to wonder if I’m really *that* hot. Oh, hold on here, I never really went on the record to say “Hey world! I’m a really hot babe and alot of men want to fuck me! Look at me!”. Nope, none at all, so before anyone starts flaming me, this is just a disclaimer. Anyway, now that I’ve gotten rid of the old blog and am on this blog (which you must have noticed, there is a lot less sex here), I feel the need to perhaps help to shed some light on this whole sex blogging thing. Why do people blog about sex? Honestly, other than to satisfy their exhibitionist streak and to perhaps prove to themselves that 1) they are hot stuff 2) they are hot stuff 3) they are hot stuff, I have no idea why people do it. I don’t need to explain the whole exhibitionist bit, come on, admit it, we’ve all done it in a public place every now and then, I can name a few places at the top of my head already. Bench in a public park in the Eastern part of Singapore, deserted carpark, deserted toilet after hours in a premier educational institution in the Western part of Singapore, we’ve all been there and done that, so I’m sure you understand what I mean by being exhibitionist. *wink* Of course we all realise that most of these sex bloggers are women who think nothing of posting pictures of their random body parts on the internet for all to drool over. Hey, I’ve got nothing against that especially if she’s got a sizzling hot body, we all should appreciate beauty for what it is, right? But why, oh why do self-proclaimed hot stuff(s) do things like that? One word. Okay, maybe two. Self-esteem. Women have serious self-esteem issues, I can tell you that. We always, always feel the need to seek justification for ourselves ESPECIALLY our looks. Ever wonder why there is no correct answer to “Do I look fat in this dress?”, well, now you know why. *wink wink* So, we all post our escapades online to give you an idea of just how hot we are in bed. We post pictures of our legs, our thighs, our asses and our boobs to get you all riled up. And then you think to yourself, “Fuck, this girl must be damn hot!”. Well I can tell you know that probably half of these girls aren’t what you imagine them to be, except maybe in bed. Well, I can’t really vouch for that too can I. But I’ll throw things wide open and admit here, all of you who’ve met me would surely agree that I’m no Miranda Kerr or Jennifer Aniston, but I’m good in bed and I’m not afraid to admit that (but of course). And I started blogging about sex because 1) Its nice to have people reading about you having sex with random people and thinking I’m oh-so-hot, 2) There is a slight turn on to posting raunchy pictures for the world to see (oh you like that, admit it!).  But after awhile, the thrill, excitement and whatever else you might call it is really dead gone. And apart from getting all that attention for the content, I have also gotten some comments about  my writing and honestly that feels much better than getting comments like “I’d so love to fuck your brains out”. Oh, blow my  brains out with a .22 calibre why don’t you, might make me feel better. Which is why I’m not afraid to say what I’m saying here, that yes, most (not all) people blog about sex to get attention because they feel, inadequate. I’m not saying that ALL sex bloggers don’t look hot of course, that’s entirely up to your preference, isn’t it? But what I’m saying here, is perhaps that when you next visit this blog, you’d realise that there is alot less sex (not that I’m getting any less of course, my sex life is very healthy thank you very much), but alot more of other random, nonsensical crap that I manage to churn out every now and then.  What I’m saying is, that I’d like to be taken alot more seriously than just a piece of meat who blogs about herself getting all banged up by other pieces of meat.  (Wow, I actually like that phrase. Bravo to myself for that.) So if you’re here looking for really hot sexy stories, I’m sorry there really is none of that, no more pictures either unfortunately. Of course if I do feel in the mood, I might oblige with a short story or two. Because hey, this is an adult blog and I’m allowed to blog about anything I want (except maybe necrophilia and bestiality, never really understood that). So there, I’ve set the direction for this blog, and if you don’t like it, well, thanks for coming then. New Directions I don’t know if anyone still visits the old blog at http://vanillaskye.wordpress.com. But if you do, you’ll realise that the blog is still being updated. The people over at VibeReview have taken over the blog, so there is some sort of a revival, although I will no longer be taking part in the posting and stuff. But do check it out if its right up your alley! Good Grief What do you do when you find out a potential employer has a profile (complete with his face picture) on AdultFriendFinder? And the best thing is, he sounds like a really great person on the phone. I am a Sex Lord, bow down to me! Good lord this is just hilarious. Still haven’t found what I’m looking for. At midnight I lay in bed, staring at the constant whirring of the ceiling fan, hopeful that the drone would lull me to sleep. 15 minutes later I was awoken by myself. It happens so often nowadays I sometimes feel like slitting my wrists out of pure frustration.  An hour later I’m still trying to fall asleep, with a million thoughts running through my head, ranging from sex, to money, to shopping to men. Then my thoughts rested on you, whom I’ve never seen in a million years. I wondered what you were doing, and I wondered if you remembered me. Then I thought of the times that passed, and I thought of the “what ifs..” What if instead of saying yes, I told you to go back to your ex because you would have been happier instead of being hundreds of miles away from me? That things might have turned out better for all of us, and that perhaps, just perhaps, we would still be talking to each other even now? But I didn’t do what I should have done. Instead I let my heart take over and listened to those I shouldn’t have listened to. And then we had to go through all the shit of being apart and you had to just deal with your troubles alone while I was here, almost enjoying my life, free of the chains of a relationship, free of a boyfriend constantly hanging around me. I would admit, that I did selfishly enjoy the fact that while I did have a boyfriend, I needn’t have to bear the chains of being in a relationship. But I’m not sorry for that. I’m sorry for not holding on when I should have, or at the very least, keep you in my life. So Brian Lye, if you do happen to come across this blog, by the grace of some miracle, talk to me. I miss you. Age Matters People always say age is just a number, that it presents nothing more than the number of days you’ve been here on this earth. I would like to believe this, that age is never representative of maturity of thought. Afterall, I’ve met 30something year olds who behave like they are 18, and I’ve also met young 20-odd year olds who are wise beyond their years. But in the kinds of society we live in, age is somewhat a factor when it comes to determining your levels of maturity, which rougly corresponds to behaviour, personality, character and outward appearance. So while there may be anomalies, people of say, age between 13 to 16 do behave in a certain way, or think in a certain way, have certain attitudes towards relationships, money, life, etc. But that’s besides the point. Like I said, age never really got in my way, unless you’re 10 years younger or 30 years older. So when I got hit on by a 22 year old boy, I didn’t think much of it. Of course the age was the damning factor, to which I politely said that I was looking for someone slightly older. Of course, me being ever so polite, obliging and conflict-avoidant, somehow accepted his “advances”. Which then led me to chatting with him on MSN. That was just the worst decision ever. Firstly, this boy had long hair. Long as in, shoulder length, unkempt hair. His hair was even longer than mine! What in the world is wrong with people nowadays that they can’t seem to keep themselves neat and tidy? While preferring short hair on men is just, a preference, if you want to have long hair by all means go ahead, but shouldn’t you at least make an effort to keep it at least pleasantly acceptable? If you like your hair long and you’re into that just out of bed look then by all means go ahead, but at least please make sure you look good in it. The best thing was that, when I politely declined in the beginning, he assured me that he did have the maturity and could offer me something better. Yeah right. This boy had the maturity of a 16 year old, and chatting to him was like attempting to coax a monkey high on sugar to sit down. Impossible. And what do you say to a 22 year old who doesn’t really have much to say, has no witty comeback for whatever you’re saying, and most importantly, is uninspiring? I felt like an old schoolteacher trying to make one of her students tuck in his shirt properly, lace up his shoes and straighten up his back. Our conversation basically consisted of me trying to explain what I’m looking for in a man, which led him to say something along the lines of me being “boring”, only to have be rebuff him that after leading life in the “fast lane” for so long its time for a change, only to have him say that whatever we’re talking about is too “philosophical” and “serious”. Okay, so what do you want to talk about? Tried to get him to talk about himself, which he said that he wasn’t comfortable sharing his “personal details” with a stranger. Once again I asked what he wanted to talk about and he said he didn’t want to talk about anything because all he would get from me were “riiiight” and “okaay”. I mean dude! What else do you expect me to say if you have nothing intelligent to say?!? Gosh, is a different of 3 years in age really that great? Or is it just my minds playing tricks on me? Am I just so accustomed to hanging out with the “older” crowd that I forgot what it was like to feel young again? Undeterred, I copied and pasted clips of our conversation to a younger friend, who confirmed that this guy is just being an idiot. I mean, I’m not against younger men dating older women. If there is chemistry, then be my guest do whatever gets your socks off. But I always believe that dating, or getting a fuck buddy for that matter is alot like shopping for a pair of shoes, it has to fit nicely and it has to be comfortable. In order for that to happen, there can be no pretense, no false promises, none of that trying to be someone you’re not crap. Because if you’re just not mature enough for a woman, no matter how much you try, you just cannot be. So why be one of Cinderella’s step-sisters and attempt to force the shoe in? If you’re no Cinderella, forget it. Return the pair and exchange it for something that actually fits. New Obsession. Woo. I have to admit, I’m in love again. But this time, its different. Its one of those things that you men just don’t understand. Its a girl thing, we need our obsessions to feel alive, to feel human, to feel like a woman. This time, I think I’ve fallen in love with something abit more practial (albeit the horrendous price). The Chloe Saskia. Comes in all sorts of designs (I think the last one and third one is my favourite), although it comes with an incredible price tag of about £1,261 (or so). Anyonein the spirit of giving? *cross fingers* Idiocy returns. update: Looks like loserboy replied me. Again. This time his message goes “but i am  very interested, you can reject me  but you can’t reject my advances”. What kind of fucked up pick up line is that for someone who isn’t even interested? If he does this one more time I’m reporting him for abuse. Remember the guy who labelled me a white man’s trophy? Well, after me lambasting him for a lack of confidence and telling him just how rude he actually is, he sent me a message awhile later asking if we could start all over again. Do I look like a girl who forgives so easily? So I sent him another (polite) reply telling him that he had been so rude that I don’t think I would really want to be his “friend”. To which this shameless guy replied (again!) that he would try to reverse my perceptions of him. Firstly, this guy doesn’t even apologise for being so offensive, secondly, he just doesn’t get it. I mean, which part of NOT INTERESTED did you not get? Or is your brain just programmed to ignore negative words like “no” and “not”? I did the best thing anyone could do. Hit the Delete button on his next few messages and just ignore him. A few ignored messages later, he sent me one of those wonderfully crafted messages meant for the masses. You know, one of those “Hi I am xxxx, I would like to xxxx, you can contact me at xxxx.” which you copy and paste over and over and over to every other girl? Yeah, I got one of those, from the same guy, who gave me all the white man’s trophy crap and wanted to make it up to be by not even apologising? So once again I very politely asked him to stop sending me messages that I am simply, not interested. I was rather tempted to put in terms like “report you for spamming” but I thought, why be mean if I could achieve what I wanted by being nice? At this point a male (or female) friend would very nicely start drumming on my head and tell me to wake up because people like that never get the hint. And for some reason my friends are right, every single time! Said bachelor actually had the cheek to reply, “then it is my duty to get you interested.” At this point I am so ready to slash my wrists. What kind of a person, short of being an idiot, replies to a “not interested” message like that? YOUR duty to get ME interested? Now, if we both were at a bar, and I had been silently flirting with you across the bar the entire night, and you come up to me and yet I blow you off, now perhaps that very cliche line could be put to good use. But after THREE “I am not interested” messages from me, isn’t it obvious that I AM NOT interested? I mean, I can’t even think of a simpler way to say it. Why is it a DUTY anyway? Do you have something that might save the world from self-destruction? Oh wait, I get it, you have a 13 inch cock and a sexual prowess so amazing you feel the need to save every other woman on this planet from bad sex! I get it now!! But wait, if you’re so amazing, shouldn’t the woman be flocking towards you rather than running AWAY from you? Now that’s a dilemma. This guy is like some running gag of a TV show, you know, the loser who never really gets any girls but thinks he is Casanova? Which reminds me of Steven Lim actually. You know, the eyebrow plucker guy? Except that at least this guy knows how to ham it up for the camera and put his notoriety to good use. I mean, dude, if you really want to at least get a girl interested, at least don’t send me pictures of yourself posing in a v neck black lycra t-shirt, the kind that we girls buy from Giordano, does nothing for your image, really. And yes, please go back to English class so you know what the meaning of words like “no” really mean. Ready to get wet again I think I’m quite ready to get out of my dry spell. For a long time I felt like I had finally moved on. I was happy with my life, at least moderately. I’ve been dating other people, and I’ve been making new friends. Until I had to sift through the hordes of email I’ve hoarded, I had to just go through our past correspondences, the SMS-es, the harmless flirting. So like a compulsive gambler who never really knows how to pull out, I went though email after email, message after message, and then I hit rock bottom. I’m falling under your spell, I feel so alive, I’m falling under your spell, I can’t slow down. Except that I’d already fallen, crashed, burned without even realising. Body Issues A couple of months ago (while I was still roaming the ends of the Earth), I read somewhere on the internet that this season, being curvy is in. Apparently, the catwalk has opened up to the ideas of having non-skinny (read: normal) models grace the runway. Now, I’m not sure where this starts, but it must be something to do with the fact that a size 10 girl (a US size 10 would correspond to a UK size 12) won the latest installment of America’s Next Top Model (yes, that Tyra show). For awhile a I thought, wow, the fashion industry has finally realised that while skinny models make almost everything look good, its far too unrealistic. Like, the fashion industry finally grew a conscience! So while I waited happily for that day to come where finally designers made clothes fit for girls like me to wear, I happily munched on a bowl of fried noodles while shitting in front of the idiot box during lunch today. You know how Murphy’s Law acts out don’t you, when you’re stuffing your face either Dirty Jobs comes on or some skinny model starts prancing on screen. The latter was exactly what happened. Apparently model-y TV programmes are very popular now because apart from that Tyra Banks one, there is another on Discovery Travel and Living. No one bothers because there is none of that bitchiness going on much unlike ANTM, and all the models on the show are extremely friendly and pal-y with one another, to the extent of advising each other that they are 1) skinny enough, 2) healthy, 3) if they want to lose weight they shouldn’t starve. Now, I’m not sure what kind of subliminal message Discovery has attempted to insert into these series, because if it really did try, it failed terribly. In one scene a very tall, hot Brazilian girl is told very bluntly that she needs to lose weight. Now, at this point I wasn’t concentrating much because I was not only stuffing my face with lunch, but I was at the same time carrying out a three-way MSN conversation AND attempting to shoot down evil passerbys in a very violent game of Postal 2. But the mention of losing weight in a model-y show definitely got my attention. Looking up I saw a very pretty Petra Nemcova in her really hot Eastern European accented English telling this poor Brazilian girl that she needs to lose weight. Cue camera to said Brazilian girl who is very skinny. The only problem with her is that she not only has a 25 inch waist, but her hips are wide. So TV is now teaching us that even though you are skinny and tall and very hot, you are still unacceptable for the fashion industry because you have wide hips. And because you are born with such a defect, you are also effectively telling other girls who watch channels such as Discovery for its educational value that having wide hips is just, wrong. Oh dear, all you girls with wide hips, God has just done you a great injustice. I mean, I understand the whole idea of having skinny models so they all can look good on the runway, but seriously, a 25inch waist is hardly fat to me, the said model looks really really good and really really skinny. She’s a size 2 for goodness’ sakes. The fact that this is shown on a respectable channel like Discovery (which is hardly trashy) just scares me. Sure, you’re trying to portray a very real aspect of the fashion industry, but is that justifiable for telling a very skinny woman to lose weight on TV? I’m not saying that skinny is wrong, if you’re born skinny then there’s nothing you can do about it. But most girls aren’t, and none of us are brought up to believe that we should just accept our body as it is and not try to starve our way through just to look good, or what society thinks is acceptable. Likewise, it isn’t healthy if you’re overly obese of course. Those who’ve read my previous blog know how I feel about fat people, and if you’re fat, please do something about it. There is a line to be drawn of course. I’m neither a waif but I definitely don’t look like a bowling ball hurtling down the bowling alley. Up until a couple of years ago I could never ever bring myself to understand that even though I exercise like a crazy woman 4 times a week, my boobs could always be a 34C (well, plus and minus for the weight I lose and gain), and my hips would always hover around a 38, and I have the shoulders of a retired swimmer (which prompted a friend to comment that I look like a man with long hair viewed from behind). But I still could beat his ass at a standard 2.4km run or the typical Shuttle Run that we have all been accustomed to. Ok, maybe I beat alot of guys flat at the shuttle run, but my point is that, we are all born into a certain body type, and short of plastic surgery maybe, there really is nothing you can do about it and no one has the right to tell you that you should “lose weight” as long as you’re happy with who you are. Unless of course you find yourself panting after climbing up a flight of stairs, then maybe that is cause for worry. But for today, I celebrate my curvy-ness, and unless you’re terribly pudgy and bulging in all the wrong places, then you should too. The Return of the SPG There’s nothing that pisses me off more than being accused of being an SPG or a “white man’s trophy”. Simply because I hate the stigma that accompanies the term and I think Asian women who go for white men simply for the money are shallow. I also resent being called a “white man’s trophy” because I’m not a trophy, and I don’t belong to any white man. I think I’ve mentioned it before that my preferences rely solely on the man’s ability to articulate himself, how he carries himself, and how he appeals to me intellectually. So when someone accuses me of being a “white man’s trophy”, I feel this strong need to retaliate by telling him he is close-minded and he simply has a problem with self-esteem where just because he gets rejected by a woman based solely on her very well considered preferences, he automatically assumes its because he is Asian. I personally find it insulting but more importantly, telling. Taking a rejection in the form of a very polite “Thank you, but I’m not interested” badly is one thing, but to respond with that rejection by telling the girl that she is a “white man’s trophy”? Hello, thank you very much but I don’t think I need to be told what I am and I’m definitely no trophy. Secondly, to respond so rudely is just, well, plain rude. A man with enough confidence in his own abilities to attract women would surely, just take a rejection as simply what it is, a “thank you but I’m not attracted to you.” Whether it is the way you look, what you say about yourself, or even your likes and dislikes would not matter because you know it doesn’t matter. Now, that being said, I think I owe it to myself to explain why I feel insulted being labelled an SPG. Firstly, no offense to women who feel a certain attraction to Caucasian men, just as long as your “attraction” isn’t just because he has a bigger cock and thicker wallet. I mean, I’m sorry but what could be more shallow than that? So what if he has a bigger cock? Well fine you might get better sex, the emphasis here is might. What good is a bigger tool if all he can do is just go in and out all night? Sure, might be nicer to suck on but hey, there’s always a giant lollipop for that right? And the bigger wallet only means he picks up the cheque all the time. Sure, we all have our preferences, but if your preferences are based on his dick size and the size of his bank account, then I think you really need to look into them again. Of course, if all your boyfriends, or your current boyfriend just so happens to be Caucasian, and there is just something intellectually or emotionally appealing about them, then good for you. Perhaps there really is such a thing called fate and fate has just prevented you from meeting nice Asian men. If you fall into this group of girls then I give you my sympathies for having to put up with the degrading looks (but then again, you know what you’re getting yourself into, right?). We all have our own preferences when it comes to our partners, if you base yours solely on his financial abilities and perceived sexual prowess, then so be it. But shouldn’t preference really be about something more? Something that, if you are able to explain it, it is something a little more respectful and a little less degrading? Transexuality Its a contentious issue, we would all like to believe that as individuals, we can accept the idea of having homosexuals and transsexuals live among us. But who of us can accept a transsexual living with us? Imagine meeting someone of the opposite sex, you date, you get married, you have kids. One fine day, (let’s assume here) your husband decides that he doesn’t really want to be a man, even though he’s been raised a man. Instead, he finally wants to come out of the closet and stop feeling so conflicted and face up to the fact that all he really wants to be, is a woman. Or what if, you’ve met the perfect man, but one day, he tells you that he was once a woman, but now is a fully functioning man. I mean, its always easy to see things from a detached manner. We read about these things in the news all the time, especially on trashy tabloids like The New Paper or the Chinese dailies. And we only read it because its oh-so-scandalous, somebody’s husband used to be a woman, or someone’s wife used to be a man. And what makes it even more sensational is the spouse coming out to say “I accept him/her for who he is now and his history doesn’t matter.” Does it not? I could be reading this piece of news and saying “Yeah, he’s a man now, and if he’s fully functioning and able to fulfill his duties as husband and (future) father, then there is no problem.” But what if it really happened to us? Would it really matter what your husband/wife was in the past if he/she is able to be what he/she sets themselves out to be right now? Would it really matter? Work Woes. I never thought I’d have to face the age-old question of “what do I want to do with my life?” I always believed I had everything planned, knew exactly what I wanted to do at every particular point in my life. But now I’m stuck with the question everyone gets at any one point in their life. And I’m stuck between leaving for something I might enjoy better but accept less money for it, or just stick with whatever I have, suffer in silence, with a slightly better pay, with (proven to be) nice colleagues. Or just take the proverbial leap of faith.