The Man Destined to be Yours

I am a romantic fool. I have always believed that there is someone out there destined for each of us. “THE” man God or the universe will send him one day and he will land right on your lap.

It’s a foolish fantasy, I know. I know enough divorcees, widows and single folks out there to know that it doesn’t work that way. But yet, I hold out some hope that perhaps the universe does work in foolish ways. And I hold out hope that Jane’s bazhi reading and Vincent’s tarot card reading will come through for me (both readings say I will meet my companion for life around age 32). Readings are no guarantee, I know, I know.

Well, if it is true that I don’t have someone destined for me, then I should be in panic mode. I have not done much. I am still bumming around a couple of guys who are not ready for any long-term relationship. Part of the problem is I am not ready for one either.

Friends in their late 30s are showing signs of desperation. A friend of mine has already resorted to “speed dating”. Some girlfriends are hanging on dearly to whatever they have. Should I join the bandwagon before it’s too late?

But how do you rush something like this. If it’s meant to happen, it will.. right? Even if you rush it , force it, push it, there are too many factors beyond your control – timing in your life, timing in his life; your needs, his needs; your hopes, his hopes; your path, his path, your character , his character; plus the whole fuzzy area called “the future”.

There is no way to answer this question. There is no way to take control of fate in this regard. To attempt so would be frugal, too exhaustive, too consuming and too desperate.

So I guess I can only pray hard that destiny will deal you a man and not deal you’re a blow.

Tolerance

It’s amazing how we can be so tolerant of total strangers; yet so intolerant of the people we care most. The root cause of this phenomenon – EXPECTATIONS.

I was Julia Roberts

I woke up at Ascott this morning. Dressed in a white robe, I had my morning coffee at the balcony of Ascott, looking up the impressive KLCC towers. It was like living the Julia Roberts – Pretty Woman fantasy.

And for the first time in my life, a man cooked me breakfast. Not just toast, but the whole she-bang. It was a wonderful night and nice, warm morning.

Midnight Comforts

I had a nightmare a couple days back. I was at Mark’s. I was dead tired after my Singapore trip and I was talking in my sleep.

Mark woke me from it, kissed me, and hugged me. It was nice. I have never been woken up from a nightmare before. Most times, you watch it play in your head till the end, only to wake yourself up in fear, in cold sweat, in a scream or never wake at all.

I felt protected. It was comforting. It’s nice to know that someone is there for you. So that’s what it’s like to have someone next to you in bed every night.

Be Grateful

I spent some time in Cambodia lately.

It was an awesome trip… Only when you are in Angkor to see with your own eyes, can you appreciate the greatness of the architecture. You gasped at the architecture, the sheer brilliantness of the design. You wonder with amazement at how it was built at a time when machinery was not available. You immerse yourself in the fantasy of how people lived their lives in those buildings thousands of years ago.

It was also a very heart-breaking trip… I have never seen so much poverty in my life. But it was not the poverty that made me cried. It was the pride and dignity these impoverished people still hold so dearly that shattered my heart. People there are living in terrible conditions. They are struggling for basic necessities – food and decent shelter – is not accessible to a large portion of the people – not because they don’t yearn for it, not because they don’t work for it, and certainly not because they don’t deserve it. But the country is just too poor to stand on its own feet.

I didn’t understand why the market was so busy, from dawn to dusk. Then I realized that people don’t have refrigerators; they come to the market to get fresh food. I couldn’t understand why they barbequed eggs and everything else, then I realize they were still cooking with coals and wood, and it was easier to cook food that way.

Things that are so basic to us… but foreign to them, and unnecessary. Despite their obvious adversaries, they are happy people. They are at peace with the environment around them; they make do with what they have. In every Cambodian, I see more gratitude for life than I have seen in any Malaysian eye. I see more acts of kindness, and I see more love.

And I reflect upon my own life. We have so much and yet still want so much out of our lives. All these complex incomprehensible concepts that are so hard to define – understanding men, challenging jobs, stylish homes, fashionable clothes, tantalizing food and sounds, brilliant government, flawless systems and processes… endless needs.

We live a life of comfort and indulgence, so much of it is not necessary. We live in so much indulgence and comfort that we expense great energy to find imperfections around us, only to be perpetually preaching about the search for inner peace.

When we can afford unnecessary comforts, perhaps we can afford help to the poor. When we can afford unnecessary emotions, perhaps we can afford gratitude.

Don’t be blinded by comfort, don’t forget to say thanks. To say thanks for friends around us, to family around us, to strangers around us who make our lives more comfortable, to Mother Nature for giving us life.

Which is harder? A non-committal relationship or a committed one?

A committed relationship is messy. There’s expectations. There’s obligations. It’s messy and yet fuss-free. You know your boundaries. You know what to expect. You know what you can talk about and what you can’t. It’s stable and stale at the same time. The spontaneity is gone, together with the surprises.

A non-committed relationship can be torturing. There’s fantasy. There’s yearning. You don’t know where the line is and whether you have crossed it. You don’t know where he is and what he is doing and you don’t dare to ask. You tear your mind apart guessing what he is say and what he is not.

I have no answer. Both seem too much work. Better to just be friends and have sex.

Resolutions will resolute themselves

It’s so funny. When you wish to make resolutions, you can’t find good one to make.

This year, I resoluted no to resolute, I suddenly have a whole list of things that came out of nowhere that I would like to get done:

• Sky-diving (somewhere in June/July - between my Bali and Bangkok trips)
• Take up a dancing class (belly dancing probably)
• Take up an art class (saw a good one at Reka Art)
• Take up languages again (either further on Mandarin, or take up spanish)
• Take up knitting class (this one, this one I am not sure where it came from)

Got bitten by the learning bug I guess. Or just bored out with my life.

We live life in phases. Sometimes, you are ready to take the world; sometimes you just aren't. Your heart will tell you.

Good Things come in Fours

I found this list in online and thought it was a really good reflection on my life:

Four Jobs You Have Had In Your Life:

1. Barrista
2. Graphic Artist
3. Waitress
4. Dish washer

Four Movies You Could Watch Over and Over:

1. Pretty Woman
2. Steel Magnolias
3. Joy Luck Club
4. Jerry Macguire

Four Places You Have Lived:

1. Kuala Lumpur
2. Sydney
3. Minneapolis
4. Lincoln

Four TV Shows You Love(d) to Watch:

1. Sex in the City
2. That’s all

Four Most Favourite Places You Have Been on Vacation:

1. Bali
2. Santa Fe
3. Cambodia
4. Sydney

Four favourite books:

1. Expecting Adam; Martha Beck
2. Unbearable Lightness of Being: Milan Kundera
3. Veronika Wants to Die; Paul Coehlo
4. Happiness; Will Ferguson

Four Places You want to visit:

1. Mexico
2. Tibet
3. Spain
4. New Zealand

Four of your Favorite Sinful Foods:

1. Movenpick strawberry ice cream
2. Bakerzin chocolate mousse
3. Double fried roast pork
4. Century egg
   

Four things currently in your car:

1. Gym bag
2. Straw mat
3. Ang pow packet
4. Condoms
   

What I Want From A Man

1. I want him to be there with a broad shoulder and a quiet hug when I am in pain.
2. I want him to be there tell me it’s OK when I am in fear.
3. I want him to be there to laugh with me when I have joy to share.
4. I want him to be there for me to love him.
5. I want him not be there when I want to be alone.

I think these are very simple needs. Why is it so hard to find man who can fulfill all of them? Most times they can only give you one or a few, but not all.

Is it because I have not found the right man? Is it because such a man does not exist? Is it because the man I have now does not feel the way for me as I do for him?

A Brand New Year

Ah…. The first morning of a new year. Full of hopes. Hope of what? Hope of happiness and joy; hope of laughter; hope of love and friendship; hope I will be a better person.

2005 was a painful year, and it sure as hell ended painfully.

Friends betrayed me; friends grew further apart.

What do I consider my biggest joy in 2005?

• Lee Ann
• Karen
• Mark
• Scholastic

What do I consider my biggest regret and sorrow?

• Daniel
• Nyang
• Pam
• Wong

I guess net effect is the same then. No better no worse.

When I Cry

2006 is my saddest start to a new year.

I cried and cried the last 2 days. The lawsuit has been settled in what I think was the most amicable way, but left me the biggest victim in this whole saga. With the least to gain to start with, I am left with the deepest losses.

Money is one. But the disappointments in people whom I trusted were the most heartbreaking. I am usually a happy person. You seldom see me in tears. But this year, on two occasions, I had just about cried my heart out.

The pain Pam and Nyang cause me was no less than the pain Daniel caused.

But my tears are not for the injustice imposed on this settlement, my tears are not for my monetary loss. I cry because I am writing off people very dear to my heart. In every friend, you have hope. You hope the best for them, you hope they are well and they will be. This is what transcends to care. When you write someone off your life, this person is being damned to mean nothing. Even a beggar means something, so writing off a person dear to me is a very difficult parting process.

But I promise, this will not make me a less trusting or more cynical person.

I have cried until I have no more tears. I have cried until I am exhausted.

I hope to wake up tomorrow morning a happier person.

Analogy of Men

There are 4 kinds of men:

1. Those who are intelligent and know that they are – they are your ARROGANT MAN.
2. Those who are intelligent and don’t think that they are – they are your DO-OINKKK NERDS.
3. Those who are not so intelligent but think they are – that’s your typical JERK.
4. The 4th kind – I shall be a kind soul and not mention

Brain on Strike

Boo hoo hoo...

Everyone is on holiday and I am still slogging away in the office.

I am really dragging myself through this week. Am in absolutely no mood to think, let alone get work done.

The day after Christmas is called Boxing Day. The week after Christmas should just be called "Filing Week".

If you have had a lot of sex with a man you really like, how do you stop wanting him?

I crave for him all the time. It is no longer just sex and companionship, it has grown beyond, but I don’t know what it is. I constantly remind myself to not expect anything, and I don’t. This thing between us simply won't go anywhere – just stop here.

But expecting and wanting is different. And I really want him.

I think wanting is a auto-reactive impulse of not being wanted. Do you always crave for what you can’t have? Things that are easy attainable, you don’t give a damn. I do, I always torture my ego that way... self-inflicted torture.

It’s a constant pattern that I put myself through. But I can’t seem to get out of it. It’s like I have been programmed that way – to constantly deny myself of joy of contentment, opting to feed my ego - only to end up disappointed, hurt and frustrated most times. I do agree that there is a small sense of achievement and excitement in conquering unattainable man. But does that make it all worthwhile? I don’t know. I have no answer.

The only thing I can say is ... "we women are all Gloria Jeans".

Love is...

Maybe I am foolish. Maybe I am plain naïve.

But I believe in unconditional love. That to love is a joy; and that love is like a gift – given with all your best wishes and happy thoughts for the other, and given with no strings attached i.e. conditions.

Because I am so steadfastly affirmed on this, it becomes the foundation of my next principle – that because love is given in its purest form is simply an act of giving, one should share it with more people. Thus, just as you could love many friends, and you love each of them in their own ways, a man likewise, could love many women. And loving another woman does not mean that he love me any less.

This is a difficult concept to accept I know. SC and I have had countless debate on the issue, but I think I finally won my battle last Wednesday. But if someone as open-minded as SC took months to admit defeat, I could only imagine how many people out there would think that I am nuts.

When you say “I love you” to someone, or when these 3 words are bestowed onto you, remember:

• Love does not equate to ownership.
• Love does not equate to commitment.
• Love does not equate to monogamy.
• Love does not equate to being on call 24/7.
• Love does not equate to gifts.
• Love does not equate to an excellent memory of dates and likes and pet peeves blah blah blah
• Love does not equate to you losing yourself.
• Love does not equate to him losing himself.

• Love simply means you care about the other person.
• Love means you always wish that he is happy, regardless of what he is doing.
• Love means you don’t need to see each know 24/7 or know each other’s schedule, but when you meet, you still care for him and wish him well.
  

I am thankful

It’s Christmas today and I feel so good.

I am no Christian, but I am a huge non-Christian Christmas fan. It’s a wonderful season. Right before the end of the year, a think to recollect the year and say thanks; a time to appreciate friends and loved ones; a time to forgive and to ask for forgiveness.

It has been an exciting year - bad lover, great lover(s); good boss, bad boss; bad business, good business; good friends, but no bad friends. This Christmas, I am so thankful to have good friends around me.

'Tis the Season to be Snappy

Nowadays Christmas makes me feel lonely and bitchy.

Isn't this the season to be thankful and to be forgiving; the season to call up friends and tell them you love them? Yes, I do buy into all these fru-fru nicety stuff. I lived in the midlands of America. Believe me, I am the most Christian non-Christian when it comes to the spirit of Christmas. But the more I wallow in it, the more I agitate myself.

What’s wrong with people these days? Good friends you used to spend Christmas religiously with now prefers a disco party than a nice sit down dinner to catch up events we have missed and to tell each other how much we still care. Common, there are 51 other weekends to kills your liver and kill your lungs right?

I guess I am more disappointed than mad. My friends are important to me. While I don’t need them to be constantly in my life, or me in theirs, they are always part of my life. And Christmas, also being the wrap-up of the year, is they time I’d like to catch up and reaffirm the friendship. It’s the time you spend with the people you love most right? But another night at the pub; another chance to flirt is more important than our years of friendship… and that’s disheartening.

It’s not easy to keep a friendship going strong. I am not talking about the kind where you bump into them at the mall, hug, catch up, then turn around and forget each other (or worse, gossip about each other). I am talking about the kind whom you will call to share happy moments with, the kind you would openly ask for a loan of a firm shoulder to cry on, the kind who you love. If you don’t make it a point to dedicate some time to each other, the foundations of that friendship can fall apart just like that.

Perhaps I am just too much a commercialized, Americanized Christmas lover.

We Love to be Loved

The world told me a big fat lie. The world told me that love is both ways... love is mutual.

Like I said, the world lied.

Love is a one-way street. Just like gift-giving, love in its most genuine form is about giving... giving unconditionally... giving without expecting anything in return… giving with no expectations. Kinda the same as the kind most mothers give to their child.

Love is when your heart is so big, you want to share the care and happiness with someone else.

Love is when you are so content with your life, you can shower the excess gratitude on someone else.

The problem with a lot of people these days is their love is given with expectations. I love you (therefore I expect you to love me back); or I love you therefore you must do this…

As Mark so wisely put it, to love and expect to be loved back, that is not love, that is barter.

This was the kind of love I had for Daniel, which I why I can forgive him so easily. Because other than money, he really didn’t owe me much. The love I gave him, I never expected him to love me back. I simply enjoy loving him.

I did. To love someone genuinely (free of any tinge of barter intentions) is a very enjoyable act. Really.

I say , “It’s better to love, than to be loved”, and not the other way round.

Our Obsession with Definitions

In school, we spent half our time learning the definition of terms and jargons. We must have transferred this adopted addiction into life. I don’t understand why we are so obsessed to seek clear definitions and boundaries about the state of things.

S and I have been seeing each other for the last 4 months. Sex is great. Talk is even greater. He is so brilliant and witty, so much fun to be with. He almost is always available when I need him, and he certainly wants to spend time with me too. In other words, a truly great companion.

Everyone, from girlfriends to good friends to mom to bro, has been pestering me about the status of our relationship and the direction of it (i.e. is he just a fuck friend, casual friend, long-term boyfriend, steady boyfriend? …or whatever else you could call them these days)

They just don’t get it when I tell them I have no definition nor direction. And I don’ seek it. I am truly enjoying what I have with him now. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. We may still be intrigue with each other; we may still enjoy each other’s company; he may get bored of me; I may find someone else… I don’t know.

Why can’t we live day by day, enjoying the present. Come what may, do what you heart feels and mind thinks? Spontaneity is so precious and pure, it invokes only the truest of reactions and feelings.

Why must we have a clear path of everything? When we know that despite all definitions, hopes and plans, non of them provide any real sense of certainty, not even marriage. Those are all fakes sense of security, a commercial romance that we buy into.

I don’t want to put him in any box. I don’t care if there is a future or not. I don’t know how to define him except that he is a wonderful being and I enjoy his company. Whatever that may happen tomorrow, all I know is I will always own those wonderful moments and cherished memories of truly happy times. And that’s all that matters.

Pheremones Working Overtime

I was at the bookstore last Sunday, quietly scanning through the shelves in a corner, minding my own business.

Suddenly, this young man (like boy in his 20s-young) came up to me and asked if I was Jane. I said no, I was no Jane. God, what a cliché. He then sweetly chat me up, asked for my number and asked if we could have dinner. I gave him my number and welcomed the invitation.

Wow, it was a swell! Not because the guy was a hunk. Even, you could tell he was quite inexperienced. But hey, it's not everyday you get pick up by some sweet young thing. Such occurences are rare moments, but sure swells you up from the inside. Makes you feel beautiful, confident and damn bloody good.

I guess being picked up in a bookstore is very different from being picked up in a bar. In a bar, you are oozing sex. You go dressed the part, dance the part and drink the part. But in a bookstore, in my most dressed down weekend outfit, straight out of the gym. It was absolute flattery. Now I know how Demi Moore feels.


Freaky Déjà Vu
But here’s the freaky part. As I was recounting the incident with pride to my girlfriends, I started describing how this young gentlemen looked like. To my horror, I realized he was a Daniel déjàvu. Same height, same colour, same facial texture, stays in the same area and going to move to Shanghai to work. Oh dear Lord, please stop playing games on me.