Wahlau... why is my name highlighted at a certain radio station's website... sputter unintelligibly... aaarrrggghhh...

No thanks to Wenjie for alerting me. (And he would like SF to know she "looks jude" in the photo. At least, THIS is what he ALLOWED me to say. Heh.)

No. No. No.

He: "hey just wondering .. if i ask u go for movie will u go?"

I: "i dotn think so"

He: "hahaha... ok... just asking for fun"

I: "it;s ok... i enjoy being honest :-)"

He: "yeah"

Radio silence.

Actually, if he had asked me before he turned into a Wannabe Intellectual Whore and was no longer "fun" to talk to, I would have gone out with him just for "fun and laughter" - even though he does not appeal to me physically; nevermind the absence of intellectual zing, and that I can read him too easily.

Hell hath no fury like The Scorn'd.

And it's not just the women.

He: "verdict is out... my fren say the relationship ended... but he was fuming mad abt the excuses she gv... she say he can't provide wat a woman wants... tat means expectations of a gal increase without the guy's knowledge... then as usual... problem with family, financal, work etc..."

I: "and what do you think about trhe reasons/excuses she gave"

He: "well... expectations of a person change but when your bf or gf is down... shld be there for him or her and not gv this problem if both parties love each other... my fren can't take it... he tot of getting commit suicide... i tink he really love the gal alot..."

I: "i think he's obsessed..."

He: "well when u love a person... anything happen..."

I: "yes of coz i know what it is like to love a person... and i'm saying, your friend has gone from love to obsession... i loved my ex so much i gave him up for his happiness..." (That AND for the sake of MY sanity.)

He: "i think is always easy for the gal to say end... she dun feel anything..."

I: "you do know you are only saying that coz you still hurt from being dumped righ... the way you generalise 'always easy for the gal'... feeling like that yourself is not going to help your friend..."

Have you ever loved someone so much that you let go of him/her for his/her happiness? True love, or something akin to it, is ultimately about self-sacrifice, and not self-fulfillment.

The Legendary Girlfriend.

"Over the next hour we painted Bruce's black Patrick Cox shoes in the white emulsion... cut the toes out of all his socks... cut his face out of every photo in the flat and burnt them... rubbed his toothbrush in the cat crap... threw his leather briefcase, including all the work-related documents within, off the bedroom balcony..."

And then, there's this.

Though I never got down to giving the DEFCON to the EX-communicated's stuff, I did entertain fantasies about returning the bears sans heads and/or limbs. But they are just innocent soft toys, no? And it would be too much like hurting him. Anyway, I think he thought it was much worse that our friends got a "live feed" on the break-up. Heh.

The Legendary Girlfriend.

"...The Exchange of the Carrier Bags - that curious post-splitting-up ceremony, where former lovers attempt to behave like mature adults as they return each other's belongings; records, hair brushes, books, etc., in a plastic carrier bag - it's always a plastic carrier bag - without falling apart."

When we Exchanged the Carrier Bags, I had a few big ones for him - mostly for the bears; mostly polar bears. They were not so much his per se, but mementoes of the relationship, which I couldn't bear to "abandon" in the garbage corner at the void deck to strange hands, where the part-time "garung gunis" AKA the residents of the block, are always lurking; and he didn't mind taking them away. There was also a box containing His Stuff and a few gifts that I saw no point in keeping.

He had only a half-filled Carrier Bag for me too. A. One. Uno.

When you put everything into a relationship, and it ends, you find yourself scrambling for Carrier Bags.

Down under.

I: "Are you hibernating or something? The domain has been down for a few days."
He: "Oh. Holidaying in Australia. Will try to get it restarted later."

Well, there's your answer.

And I thought about how it's now three months shy of two years. Has it been that long? It's not that I feel I was still in the relationship; more like disconnected from that part of my life, which all seems so surreal now - just another parallel universe of possibilities.

Have been so busy at work past two nights that barely had the urge to write; not even ungrammatical thoughts crawling on half-formed limbs in my head. Erm, that, plus it feels like gastric flu. Blink.

Circa August 2002. British Film Festival.

Was having my daily dose of Neil Gaiman, when this came up.

And I remembered. The Cat with Hands. British Film Festival. Circa August 2002. Saturday Night. The night that I went to meet H. Also the same night that a misfired SMS made its way into the Urban Legends of Bad Dates. Other than that, I quite enjoyed TCWH, which was featured as a short bonus film before the actual screening; my kind of macabre story-telling. Though, I would have enjoyed it more if I hadn't been sandwiched between Mr Not So Secret Admirer and Madam In Need of a Listerine Mouthwash.

While waiting for the download, the shrill trill of my Nokia announced an incoming SMS:

"U hv any sex in e city on disc?"
[scroll down]
"Sender: H..."

What the fuck... AGAIN??? Please, someone, tell me this is really, REALLY, just ANOTHER coincidence, albeit one too many - of either our first SMS arriving within one to two seconds of each other, or messages received when I just happen to be thinking about Mr No More Admiring in Secret. It couldn't have been more than ten minutes between Gaiman's site and the download. (By the way, we haven't had much contact after that fateful night. So, such uncanny timing is really weird.)

I am officially spooked. AGAIN!!!

Strangely, I've never known such "telepathic" connections with my close friends, not even with the Bear. Anyway, it just seems so pointless to have it with someone who can never be more than my Intellectual Whore.

The awakening.

End MarchEarly April: Weekend dive trip in Dayang, Malaysia, to get my licence.
May (possibly): Weekend dive trip; destination yet to be determined.
Mid July: Weekend shopping trip in Bangkok.
October: One week diving in Manado.

Have never been big on holidays; a week plus a weekender in a year was the most. When I was younger, it was because there was no dough. And when I was with The Bear, I was, quite simply, content to be just around him. Come to think of it, we never did DO anything much, not even TALK. And, there still wasn't much dough to go around, between the two of us. Laugh. But mostly, I just didn't have a desire to travel. Some people wilt from breathing too much localised air, and need regular trips to foreign lands. (And some people have discovered a cheaper alternative - sucking mouth with foreigners who find their way to our shores. Heh.) I don't.

This year, though, two trips have been confirmed and one is being organised, all the way to October. The fourth depends on whether I get my birthday present belated birthday present in Dayang ;-)

Perhaps, I'm making up for lost time; the experiences I've "missed" out on - not so much travelling per se.

Awakening from a long dream, too long, to find that everyone else has moved on, leaving behind only faint footprints and whispers in the wind. And I have to find my way amidst unfamiliar faces and places. Searching.

Perhaps, I just need some relief from the drudge of daily living, before I slip into another kind of limbo, sleeping away life, again. I had hoped to find distraction in work (and there is certainly enough of it piling up on my desk), while I figured out this increasing restlessness, in my own time, without losing a grip on reality. But I find myself looking forward to the nights and weekends instead, when I don't have to work.

My shoes have grown their own feet. And they want to go. Somewhere.

Who am I, really?

He said:

"i dont get intimidated easily. you are one of those few, wait, i think you are the only one, who intimidates me... let me tell you my impression of you. aloft mosta the time... when you use that slight bit of singlish, you seem more human... your writings are very controlled. maybe at times, let go abit. and be yourself. liberate... i guess its the way you write. sort cold... and i thought i was clinical at the way i observe some stuff. you were colder then me..."

How strange that these very words that have liberated me - set free my fears, given wings to my dreams and hopes, and brought me closer to my humanity - "intimidates" another.

What if I told you that THIS is really who I am?


Boys and girls.

They are everywhere. The gay men-couples. The gay women-couples. Single women should be thankful for the latter - the more of their kind, the lesser the competition. Bad enough that we have to fight the men for the men. Heh. I just wonder why the gay women-couples seem to be disproportionately represented by the really young (teenagers). Are older gay women-couples more conscious about being seen in public? Or are they just harder to spot since women hang out together frequently?

My hairdresser found it strange that a not unattractive and seemingly sociable creature as I, was still unattached. I, who appear once every four to six weeks to have my hair done, and who obviously wants to look good. It's a nice compliment, actually. Except it can also work against me - what if someone who was interested assumed that I would be attached anyway?

Sweet talk.

I used to find my conversations with the Wannabe Intellectual Whore entertaining. Not particularly engaging, but amusing enough when I just needed some company, albeit online. No obligations. No pressure. No worries. There was a lightness and openness to our talk. The simplicity of a platonic friendship. Uncomplicated. But never long enough. When an initial attraction starts to develop into an unrequited romantic interest, everything changes.

I do not find our conversations entertaining anymore. In fact, they have become a drag. How much of the increasingly bimbotic sweet talk and compliments can a girl take, especially when she's not interested in anything more? And having to think twice about each comment - the flirty ones might "lead him on" while the usual tongue-in-cheek jibes might "hurt his feelings" - has removed all the spontaneity and fun. And so, what is there left to talk about? Nothing.

It's almost as if he's lost his wit in the sugar rush. Or maybe he never had much to begin with - hence, the Wannabe tag.

Don't you sometimes wish supposed platonic relationships between men and women came with firewall settings?


Why not?

My sister came to me, her usual giggling self whenever she relates her online encounters and F2F meetings. She asked if I would mind if she asked him out. Him - not the abovementioned - who I had gone out with twice, and still talk to occasionally. She knows.

I: "Sure, why not."

Indeed, why not?

Man.

Dr G: "...localised acne on the jawline is common for guys."

I: *flabbergasted look*

Dr G: (quickly adding) "But it's normal in women too."

Waaah, I'm turning into a man! (Even though the blood tests came back normal for testosterone levels.)

What a pleasant thought to last me from Monday until the end of the week.


Woman.

Am mildly disturbed by the invitations from Mr Married-With-Thick-Wedding-Band & No-Sense-Of-Personal-Space.

"Pleasure to meet you yesterday and we should catch up for lunches if you free next time."

followed today with

"Thanks for the update and shall we have lunch when you are free? :)"

Am I being paranoid or isn't there something less than businesslike in his tone? (Plus the too-happy smile when we first met, and choosing to sit just next to me on the same side of a long table.) Am inclined to Alt-F4 that stupid smiley. Anyway, such emails don't deserve a reply. Especially from married men.


Or a man-woman?

Some women don't have many female friends. Bitch factor aside, some women just don't have "enough" womanliness in them, and are more like, what I call, man-woman. Woman-woman types might find the man-woman too aggressive or insensitive (read: too much like a man), or just strange with her unwomanly ways. She simply does not fit into the social mould of a woman. Pour out your problems to her, and what does she do? She offers you a solution - when what you really, really wanted, was just sympathy, if not outright agreement - regardless of whether you were right, or god forbid, wrong.

Meanwhile, the man-woman might prefer hanging out with the guys, or another man-woman. There's none of that tautologous angst, or need to tiptoe around the eggshell feelings of woman-woman types. She can jump straight into a vigorous discussion, or just talk, without the obligatory flea-picking first. The man-woman is not necessary butch-like, nor less attractive as a female, nor even, less capable of using her female wiles. She possibly enjoys dressing up and flirting too - as much as woman-woman types. She possibly has her fair share of admiring males too - though the magnetic fields for both types of women are likely poles apart.


The kuniang-man AKA Wannabe Intellectual Whore.

P: "u damn cute at times ... but sometimes u r nasty ... tats wat woman is all abt"

I: "wanna play with fire better not cry pain"

P: "tats the thingy about man ... they like to get torch"

On the one hand, you find my sass a turn-on. On the other, you whine when you cannot keep up. Make up your mind.

Man-woman types have no patience for the kuniang-man.