Mix and match.

Boy, interrupted": The latest episode of Sex and the City stars David Duchovny (in a rather lackluster performance) as Carrie's high school sweetheart. Just before things got hot and heavy, Duchovny revealed that he had admitted himself for psychiatric treatment in a mental facility. Carrie got over her initial reservations and the couple got it on, until she found out that his treatment would take another eight to ten months, and so they decided to cool things.

Question: Would you continue to go out with someone who you found out has had psychiatric treatment? (Not of the serial killer or psychopath genre.) In what way is it different, if at all, from seeing a private shrink? (Other than you are less likely to be given medication.) And in what way is this different from being counselled by your friend? (Other than you don't pay for your friend's listening ear and words of wisdom.)

But really, isn't being "mental" or even "weird" mostly a social construct? Take for example, jealousy, greed and egoism. These aren't conditions that totally incapacitate a person's ability to perceive social reality and function socially, generally speaking. But, jealousy and greed can cause strife and unhappiness, and they can also upset the status quo of a social group. Such feelings can be the result of a person's inability, or even deliberate refusal, to be sensible and take things in perspective.

Anyway, there are many reasons why people would not go out with someone. Heck, having a "recognised" mental condition probably ranks low on the list, in terms of actual reported reasons. Laugh. And I just realised that SF and I declined dates in the same weekend. Coincidence? Shrug.

Don't you sometimes wish you could mix and match your romantic interests? Why can't it be the one with the good body who calls after you've given your number? How about if I swopped his single status with "the fish"? Or what are the chances of him swopping geographical proximity with Mr E? Heh. Heh.

Ah well, a girl can dream, can't she?

For fun and laughter.

"...the stock market and dating. Are they really that different? If you have a bad stock, you could lose your shirt. If you have a bad date, you could lose your will to live. And if the date is good, the stakes get even higher. After weathering all the ups and downs, you could find yourself with nothing. So when it comes to finance and dating, why do we keep investing?"
[Sex and the City, Season 6, Episode 1: "To Market, To Market"]

The September 2003 issue of Female has two interesting male and female perspectives on why men/women go on dates.

For Linus Carnarvon, "a coffee date is just latte and good conversation." But he dreads the woman who treats the date like a "job interview" where "she's not at all fascinated with me or the things that I get up to, but systematically sussing me out ... to see if I pass for the kind of husband that she would like to have at that!" Carnarvon clarifies that he would like to "settle down" too, but "what should matter more to us both is the process of discovering each other. If we can be totally relaxed around each other and have a good time on a consistent basis, it may mean we are kindred souls and perhaps, if it is meant to be, we'll fall in love."

On the other hand, Sasha Gonzales is proud of her "dating agenda" and declares that "going out with guys is a means for women to suss out potential husband material." She remembers when "my sole aim when dating was to just go out, share some laughs, and perhaps snag a kiss at the end of the night. The world was full of eligible young men, and I was hell-bent on having fun with them all". However, after a combination of "edging towards thirty" and reaching a certain place in life, "we don't like being wined and dined for six weeks straight, only to be told by the guy at the end of it that he hates children, has no savings, or just wants to be friends." She adds that "women are a lot more self-assured than we used to be...also more successful...independent...We've worked hard to get where we are, so why should we bother continuing with a date if the guy shows no promise?" Gonzales' concluding statement is interesting: "And, with the shortage of decent and available men in the world today, we need a dating agenda now more than ever."

I would like to think dating is about fun and laughter. And as a bonus, dating could also include the more targetted fun of checking out a potential steady or marriage partner. (Though I wonder if being conscious about the latter might be too much pressure when you just want to unwind, and not have to think about yet another of life's shopping lists, namely, the Husband Shopping List e.g. 1-job (check) 2-car (check) 3-house (check), and so on.)

This means that, yes, I would go out with someone even if he were not my idea of boyfriend (or marriage) material, as long as [1] he doesn't look like my father [2] his colour looks good on me, and more importantly, [3] I think we would have a good time. Not too complicated, nor that tall an order, right?

While I don't discount the possibility that I might discover my soulmate on one such outing (though if that actually happened, I wouldn't even need a Soulmate Checklist, and just follow the beat of my heart), I wouldn't be upset if I couldn't envisage a long-term engagement at the end of the date. What WOULD upset me is if I didn't have a good time AND was bored shitless. Of course, there are worse things, like having to fend off a stalker! Heh.

Unfortunately, the world is somewhat more complicated -- my idea of fun and laughter might not be someone else's perspective on dating. The problem is this: what if the other person were looking for a marriage partner, or thought that I could be his soulmate? Should I continue going out with him -- especially, if I'm quite sure he's only a transit date, until someone I really, really liked came along? Would I be "wasting" his time, or should he graciously accept that he was given a chance, of sorts, to "change" my mind? Or, what if the situation were reversed, and *I* were the one wanting to take things further?

Perhaps, all this sounds weird to you? Why is a 31-year-old woman doing things backwards?! Why is she wasting her time with blanks?!

Heck, I remember telling my ex half-jokingly, in better times, that if he weren't serious about me, he should let me know ASAP, and not after I had lost my youth and "market value". (But maybe, things do happen in reverse.)

Maybe it's the been-there-done-that syndrome, and I already know what it's like (i.e. having a steady). Maybe I've got a better idea of where I stand, what I want, that I'm worth it, and I'm not ready to just commit myself as quickly, or to join the bandwagon and adopt everyone else's idea of what a woman past 30 should do, i.e. get married pronto and settle down.

Oh, don't think I don't want a family; I'm still looking out for that soulmate to share the rest of my life. And that's just it: someone "special". It's not a race against other singletons, to reach that "shortage of decent and available men in the world today" before I really have to go through the dregs.

Now, I don't have a problem with women who marry with the Husband Shopping List in hand -- heck! I've got one too! But I'll sooner go for the Soulmate Checklist. And I agree with Gonzales that the self-assured and successful woman of today shouldn't have to settle for less with a guy who "shows no promise". Certainly, there are "universal" markers of promising men, such as intelligence, personal and financial stability. But I find it ironical that "independent" women like Gonzales are still caught up in society's and everyone else's agenda in life.

Halfway through the rat-race, would any of these women even remember what they were running for? If any one of them trips and falls, would her purpose give her the strength to pick herself up and carry on running?

Hide-and-seek.

Have had the navel piercing for almost 9 weeks now; though I hardly notice it, except when (1) dressing for work and making sure that the waistband of the skirt won't rub against the piercing, and (2) cleaning the site. Haven't swopped my tops for navel-baring ones -- actually, it's hard to find those that just skim the top of the navel, which I prefer to tiny tubes -- though a sexcited colleague had commented that the point was to bare it, and who incidentally, has not been "granted" a viewing yet. Heh.

But am beginning to think that it could be more interesting to keep it "under wraps". Think of it as letting someone discover another part of you (in more ways than one). And of course, lifting up part of your top is more fun than just baring your midriff the whole time. Heh. Anyway, don't know if the usual look of pleasant surprise is from discovering another side to my usually somber mien, or thinking I'm into S&M (eh...no...well...maybe a little...), or just being "flashed".

By the way, I must qualify that I don't go around OFFERING a show-and-tell -- except during the first couple of weeks when it was still a novelty, and this was only to people I know. However, a few nights ago, found myself becoming SF's conversation piece about "living vicariously", and when the guy who was chatting her up asked to see it, I obliged -- out of my own curiosity too. Heh.

While we're on the topic, I do find the idea of pain an intriguing way to awaken the senses; right after the piercing, I did feel "more alive", as my piercer put it. I did it too, because I wanted to "mark" my body; to make it more "me". And I find this extremely enlivening as well -- as if I've opened up another dimension to myself.

You know those sit-ups I do, and how I work at increasing the number? Sure, there's all that stuff about personal achievement and competition. But there's also that other stuff, that sometimes I don't stop, because after a while, it stops hurting, and I've to work harder to reach that sensory high. I remember how swimming was many years ago: I would increase either the laps or pace, and after I was done, I relished pulling off my tightly secured swim cap and dipping my head in the water, releasing all that heat in the thrilling coolness. In the case of yoga, I can assure you that pain and quivering muscles are not that hard to attain...yet!

If all this sounds like an addiction, you're not too far off. Heh.

Reflections.

Impartial Observer: She's beginning to sound like pulic enemy number 1. Maybe it is time to turn your attentions to more positive subjects.

Took a trip down memory lane: thought about pivotal incidents in the past months, and reflected upon my reactions and self. Decided to edit some posts -- if not just to allow some people a more graceful departure from the centrestage. (Too bad if they trip over their own feet though. Blink.)

Nevertheless, am going to practise some discipline in reflecting on my thoughts, motivations and self.

Yes, it is time to move on -- before I find myself in Gollums Anonymous too. Heh.

- - - - - - - - - -

I find it a curious oddity for a Christian to qualify a personal opinion by proclaiming either before or after, that it is not for him/her to judge; just stopping short at the final "judgement".

But really, the very fact that someone has an opinion, whether arising from religious beliefs or something else, is already an assessment/judgement, is it not? Even if one narrows the definition of "judgement" to the "divine sentence" -- whether one goes to Heaven or Hell -- surely, this judgement cannot be mutually exclusive from the necessary and precedent process of assessing the sum and nature of one's good and wrongdoings? The additional step of making that "divine sentence", as such, is merely a formality to "conclude" the process of evaluation; the point being, that something as "simple" as an opinion, is already a judgement.

Ironically, it is perhaps the embrace of the religion that causes one to become more judgemental -- by becoming more sensitive to the "rights" and "wrongs" in the world, according to the Bible.

Body and soul.

He said: "...the metre sucks (yes there is metre in prose too). She is like a spoon holding truffle soup -- she has the capacity to hold but does not taste/perceive the essence of the language at all! There is no soul in the writing."

I'll say he hit the nail right on the head: good writing reads like a song is sung. (See earlier post about music and language.)

- - - - - - - - - -

She told me later, that as the two guys chatted her up (separately), she thought about whether she could envisage accommodating either of them into her life after being used to being "alone"; to make the effort to be considerate to another person other than herself in an intimate relationship. The point here, being of course, NOT whether she has the capacity to be selfless; but really, whether she can see herself liking the person enough to give up a big part of herself for him, willingly, ungrudgingly and wholeheartedly.

I find myself flinching from the thought of having to open up myself to another person in an intimate relatonship, again. It would be such a chore (yes, a chore) to have to learn to trust my instincts enough to trust the person to let him in. As more time passes, will I become a harder nut to crack?

Coming out of a relationship, do you take time to yourself to contemplate what has happened and what you really want for yourself and the rest of your life, OR, are you a rebound girl/guy?

Thursday's Special.

It was a Thursday morning, and auntie here was minding her own business (reading) on the train to work. As the train pulled into the interchange station, looked up and about casually, and noticed a guy in the next cabin staring right at me. Okayyy...don't be thick-skin, girl, it's probably your sleep-befuddled mind that's mistaking that stare for "the look"...it's just another commuter who also happened to be looking about, and your eyes just happened to meet. Quickly dropped my head into my book again, while waiting for the train to stop. When the doors opened, some guy (had a feeling it was THE guy -- ehhh...why is he alighting from MY cabin???) who had moved up beside me offered to let me alight first (for the benefit of those fortunate souls who take their own private transport to work, such 'gallantry' is not the norm with the morning corporate crowd). Chose to ignore the gesture, and made my way to the platform across.

Continued reading while waiting for my next train. A while later, noticed that uncle (yeah, really, uncle looks to be in his early 40s and is already balding on top) had stepped up beside me. Ehhh...bochap, continued reading. Then, he broke the ice by commenting that it must be an interesting book since I was so engrossed in it. Okayyy...so, I flipped the cover over to show him, and returned to reading, hoping uncle would buzz off. But nooo...uncle continued with the small talk and asked about my work. Uncle appeared to light up as he circulates in the same industry too. He gave me his name card -- didn't offer mine until he asked for it. Some more small talk, and a handshake before uncle alighted one stop before me.

A first for me, and a weird experience (don't you think?) considering that the morning train is hardly the scene for 'socialising', and it was the working crowd, after all. And don't bother asking what he looks like. It doesn't matter when he's not my type anyway -- specifically, not my 'colour'. Let's just say that I've been told that I look good in lavenders, light blues, reds, and even whites, but rarely blacks -- uncle is Indian, albeit a fair-skinned one.


Tell one, tell all.

After I got to work, related the incident to SF, who said that the past year has certainly seen more social encounters. She thought that we should compile a list of opening lines that we've (very much more SHE than I) encountered, and then categorise them under 'lame', 'average', 'offensive' and 'outstanding'.

SF's friend had recently compiled their experiences (they hung out together a lot before the girl got married and moved to the States) and wrote something along the same lines, for personal consumption. It was interesting reading -- though I found the presentation too instruction manual-ish, and hence 'distant', for my personal liking.

Actually, as a spin-off to my existing blog, I think it'll be interesting to put together our experiences and social experiments (e.g. surviving break-ups; window dressing; rumours of lesbian affairs; and finding happiness again) into a book. It'll be like 'Singlehood (rather than Sex, coz there ain't any...yet...lately anyhow...laugh) and the City'; by the way, if you haven't seen the series yet, you should shoot yourself, AND I'll help you. But seriously, forget about the American 'reality shows' -- a misnomer really, and an outrageous sham, considering that ratings and sensationalism take priority over so-called reality. Give me some REAL living anytime!

Now, you're probably thinking this is just another sensational tell-all diary, and so, nothing novel. Besides, I'm nobody, right? While I agree that people will always hunger for the 'private' lives of famous personalities, and sex and lies will never lose their appeal, I think 'ordinary' lives can still be fascinating in their own understated way. Remember The Truman Show? Put another way, you don't have to do a Playboy spread-all when a Maxim teaser is just as, if not more, tantalising, and maintains enough mystery to keep you interested and coming back for more. So, it's quite simply this: Get the right focal point(s), just as you would when composing a photograph, and you've got yourself an interesting story. So, the book would technically be a tell-all, sans the sensationalism.

If nothing else, a book would be something nice to look back on when I'm old. While my grandparents and parents have their oral accounts -- subject to failing memory and the benefit of hindsight -- I (dare I say MY OWN children and grandchildren too?) would read it all from a book that I wrote there and then. I think it would make for a nice family heirloom, yes?


Writing it right.

To me, personal writings, including blogs, should be less newspaper-reporting, and more storybook-telling. A good piece engages BOTH the writer AND reader, at an emotional and reflective level. The writing draws the writer INTO its creation, and the reader INTO the writer's intimate world. In the writing and reading, one goes beyond the functional meaning of the word, and enters another level of understanding and consciousness. The flair of the art is in inspiring your words. I would also describe it as a certain 'romanticism' or 'poetry' in the writing style; there's aestheticism and rhythm. In writing, as with all other art forms, the flair is in the performance. Humour helps too, because it engages the reader.

I feel that some bloggers don't write enough for themselves, and a few even thrive more on external recognition. As such, the tendency is to give too much leeway to content, rather than the style of writing. Never let your story run away from you. (Yeah, that's the control freak in me talking. Heh.) Always take the time to fine-tune your writing and groom the final product.

In my work, which involves a fair amount of copyediting, I try to be sensitive and respectful to the writer's work, however clumsy the presentation might be. Mostly, it is possible to retain the writer's tone even after I'm done with the 'scrubbing'. Anyhow, I consider it a form of training to develop more finesse in my writing.


"If music be the food of love..."

There are several studies on the link between music and the development of cognitive / language skills. Well, I don't play any musical instruments, nor listen to classical music. I love my bubblegum pop, rap, dance, and lately, chill-out. They are what a classical music lover has described as noisy boom-boom music; more noise than music. (Aside: How someone who is tone-deaf can tell the difference between classical and dance music, I really don't know. But maybe I should tell her to try turning UP the volume of her classical music one day, and she'll get the same boom-boom effect. GL smile.)

But come to think of it, when I write, I am silently reading, and listening to the flow of the words. Often, I would write, and re-write, and re-write, obsessively, compulsively, until I am happy with the sound of the words in my head. If you want to know, I've been writing from before midnight until 3 this morning, with about 4 cups of coffee in-between. Woke past 10, continued writing, and I'm already getting a buzz from another 5 cups of coffee. Heh...heh...heh...