Woman, your name is Ingenuity.

Woman,
your name is Ingenuity
in the face of adversity.

Woman,
your smile is Courage
shining upon the helpless.

Woman,
your destiny is Strength
in the hands that will guide
us through the darkest hours.

You've heard the stories about the shepherd and his sheep. Now let me tell you about the Chinese farmer and his pigs. Maybe it sounds incredulous, or you find the thought of cross-species copulation too distasteful to even contemplate the possibility. But is it all that inconceivable?

Imagine, a lonely bachelor farmer in his little farmhouse, just beside the pig sties. He awakens to the start of each day, and goes to sleep at the end of each day, with the sight of pigs, the sound of pigs, the scent of pigs, the touch of pigs. Pigness invades his every sensory experience; even as he dreams at night in his lonely bed. There is possibly nothing for miles and miles, around the little hamlet that he calls home. Sure, there is his family and his neighbours; but always, there are the pigs, and more pigs; pigs who outnumber the humans. The village girls, the prettier ones and those who want to make a better life for themselves, have left for the city or farther shores, a long time ago.

Now, Mr Pig Farmer could jump onto the band wagon with the village girls. But he doesn't exactly have a back-up plan, if he should fail to make it in the city. And he is determined not to return to the village a failure. For the village girls, failure is an option -- it is an option because alternatives are open to women.

You see, women are born lacking the physical strength and size that men are generally endowed with. And it is said too, that emotional women lack the objectivity and resolve, and even intelligence, of men. These are qualities believed to guarantee one's superior standing in society.

But remember, the trial of birth is that of women's, not men. It is also men who more often than not, succumb to the charms of women; it is women who can weaken the resolve of men.

So, back to the little hamlet of pigs. Mr Pig Farmer has only his dick, and his pigs. Doesn't take too hard to figure out how the story continues, does it?

- - - - - - - - - -

Please stop telling me that I didn't try hard enough to fight to keep the relationship. Very few people can know or understand that I'd tried hard enough; and even harder to fight the urge to fight, fight my desire to keep him by my side, fight my bloodlust to go at the other bitch with teeth and nails. People should know when they have lost.

And please stop telling me to be proactive and ask someone out for a date. So maybe I'm just once bitten and twice shy about making the first move. But sometimes, love happens. And sometimes, love dies. It just does, you know.

So very, very much.

Sometimes I feel there is a hole inside of me,
An emptiness that at times, seems to burn.
I think if you lifted my heart to your ear,
You could probably hear the ocean...

I have this dream of being whole.
I'm not going to sleep each night wanting but,
Still sometimes,
When the wind is warm and the crickets sing,
I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.

I just want someone to love me.
I want to be seen.

I don't know.
Maybe I've had my happiness.

I don't want to believe it but,
There is no man...
Only the moon.

(Sally Owen, Practical Magic)

Read a love letter on a friend's blog. I had holidayed with this couple in Bangkok almost a year ago; it was also my last holiday with the bear. It's good to know that they are still together.

Reading his letter, I remembered how nice it was to have someone around, to share the good times and bad ones, to share one's life with, and sometimes, to discover the happiness and meaning that one had found lacking in one's life before. I also remembered how it was to love someone so very, very much that it hurt.

But I also wonder, if it's healthy to put so much of one's hopes and happiness on another person.

- - - - - - - - - -

Finally collected my graduate diploma. R was, as usual, all happy-happy-joy-joy for me, and insisted that I should "show and tell" to the boss, so that the latter could share my joy and be "proud" of me too.

Nah...

Other than the fact that I've always kept my colleagues (read: "colleagues", rather than "friends") at arm's length with regards to my personal life (especially my further studies, because the sad truth is that not all companies look upon such personal commitments favourably), I only need myself to be proud of me.

Anyway, haven't decided whether to frame up the diploma. Guess I should? I never did anything about my Bachelor -- it's still rolled up in the scroll case.

First In Last Out.

I dread having to troubleshoot my home computer: don't know the system well since I used to have "24-7 tech support". When that strange grey patch appeared on my screen (now gone), I wasn't too pleased, in addition to the usual wild-eyed anxiety. So when I chose to ask my friend for help instead, coz I didn't want to ask anyone else, that subsequent brief exchange was an unexpected slap in my face. (Though my friend did help with the screen problem.)

Do you know what's worse than your ex not wanting to have anything to do with you? It's when your friends also start to act the same way, and you're being made to go through MORE BREAKUPS -- with your friends -- as if one wasn't enough. It's when you thought you couldn't possibly feel more alone, after losing the love of your life, and then you realise that you CAN feel even MORE ALONE. That's how I felt last night.

Is everyone else in on some charade? Have I been the fool who has so readily and gladly agreed to stay friends after breaking up? "We can still be friends, right?" Sincerely yours? No?

Have the courtesy to let me know -- even if I have to be the last one to know.

Which one of these pictures doesn't belong here?

I know I really should be in bed now. But I can't. You know what they say about bitter medicine being good for the sick. And I know my friends have my interests at heart -- no matter how they administer the medicine.

But I didn't expect to walk away from a casual exchange feeling like a damn pariah. Within those 5 minutes, it felt like my heart just broke a second time.

I: laugh, where you working
X: hmmm. you didn't know? same place as xxx
I: no lah dunno, what place
X: well not important :)

I could have brushed off my friend's comment, walked away then and there, to sleep, as I've planned to, after a few more pleasantries. But I got pissed, and then I started to feel indignant. I only wanted to know where my friend was working. That they are now colleagues was not surprising in any case. And I sat before the screen, trying to walk away, but I chose not to.

I: ok i dont understrand, what's with not letting me know where you work
X: nothing secret, but i just thought you would rather not know
I: why? just coz you aer xxx;s colleague?
X: because it's not a good idea to harp on that. once left behind, don't look back
I: how will knowing where YOU work change that. my point is i was gonna ask you anyway whetre you working, not coz you told me you now work with xxx
X: i understand that. but because i said that, there is a point of correspondence now. which may seem meaningless, but it's still exists

I've always referred to him by name or as "the bear". Because that is how I remember him. Because there is something so terribly final about calling someone your "ex". Because I still think of him as a person. It's not as if he's ceased to exist on this earth, and I'm very sure he still walks and talks and breathes. It's not as if I wish that he had never been born.

But really, am I expected to then cease and eliminate all contact with EVERYTHING that has been touched by my ex? You know, if it comes down to it, why should *I* be the one giving it all up anyway? Haven't I already gotten my share, if not more than fair, of the pain? Am I now condemned because of this huge X over my face?

And you know something else...call me paranoid, call me neurotic, I don't care...does my ex feel that I should remove all traces of myself from his life? Am I an unwanted residue in anyone's life? Am I making anyone just a tad too uncomfortable? Is this what it's been all about?

Say what you mean and mean what you say. No more of this bullshit about wanting to stay "friends" after the break-up.

I know in my heart that my friend has my interest in his heart. I never saw this coming either.

But I don't think I've felt such anguish for a very long time -- things have actually been trotting along pleasantly enough.

If truth be told, I still miss him. I still think about him. I still love him -- though no longer "in love". And I've also moved on with life. How is that possible? If you could look into my heart, you would know. If I could give words to the unknown language of my heart, I would write them on the lines of your palm.

- - - - - - - - - -

Let's just say PMS, lack of sleep, work stress, and a not so good hair-cut don't make a good stew.

Tightrope.

Sometimes I'm worried, or even ashamed, that I don't make a "good" friend, particularly to my "good" friends who look out for me. You could say that I expect a certain level of obligatory give-and-take in friendship.

And then there are times when I resent being put in a spot, especially if my self-interest or integrity is being compromised, or if I had as a matter of choice, mostly refrained from imposing on that friend. Worse still, if said friend had knowingly imposed on me and hence compromised my position. At times like this, I wonder just how much reciprocity, mileage and tolerance one can reasonably expect from friendship.

- - - - - - - - - -

Am helping to proof-read a friend's thesis. I had agreed to her request most willingly. I just didn't expect to be working on something where close to half of the intellectual property didn't exactly belong to her. And that I would have to "scrub" really hard, to the point of reorganising some of the flow and rephrasing much of the writing into the accepted academic style. At one point, she asked me to just make her "sound intelligent".

Granted, I don't doubt she can "sound intelligent" without anyone's help, because she is.

Granted, I don't doubt she would give the due acknowledgements, but such things are so generally worded anyway.

Granted also, thesis writing is a very stressful process (look at what happened to ME), but that doesn't make it acceptable to take one too many shortcuts and to compromise one's integrity, does it?

I found it distasteful because the whole thing reminded me of an ex-colleague who told me that her then-boyfriend (who is now her husband) had helped her with most of her Honours thesis. And later, she had hoped to pick up a Masters thesis by making use of external resources, AGAIN. Now, I may not be the most disciplined and virtuous person in my own small circle of friends, but I do have my own principles that I try to live by.

Would like to think that my friend was just ignorant of the standards expected of academic writing and the dissertation process, as well as the ethical issues. But I remember having talked to or reminded her about some of these things. So, what if she had simply forgotten, because there's always just so many things going on in her life? Well, there are just some things you shouldn't forget, and you should take personal responsibility for.

Nonetheless, on a few occasions, I have chosen to cover for her. Because sometimes I felt that it was partly my fault. Because sometimes I thought that is what a friend should do, and she has helped me before. And because, really, what's done is done, there's no point to saying "I told you so", and we should just salvage what we can of the situation.

Well, I'll still help her with what I had agreed to.

But if it should ever start to unravel, and I truly hope for her that it would not, she would have to depend on her own 2 hands to keep it all together.