Vomitting in Vietnam...
nnniiicceeeee

Tomorrow I head to Laos.
No hotels, no plans. Somehow, with faith, I shall travel with a friend to Hanoi, Vietnam before heading back again.
We plan on somehow hitting Luang Prabang and Halong Bay as well. Rest assured I shall find a way to keep you informed about my trip.

I am off to bail my heart out of hope that has entered when he emailed me today.

I am off to find myself with the help of a good book and the Mekong River.

I am off!

It has come to that point in our lives again. A new year looms near. New promises, new vows made to somehow help us deny our past sins. To give us hope of new futures, new choices, new fates.

Ah well, even if its superficial, one can always remind oneself of things that should or should not happen next year.

I want to want less. Not wear my heart on my sleeve. Not think about friends getting married. Not think about the fact that Ive been alone for far too long. I want to let things be, and make things be less. I want to not want a man to fall in love with me everytime we smile. To be able to emotionally distance myself in the company of lust. Not love

So in line with that. I want to love me more. Love my job more. Put more effort into developing my career. Into making sure I can take care of me and my family. I guess I'll have to say fuck it to all the men who cannot deal with the fact that I am educated, financially stable, employed and independent. If its meant to happen, it will. Otherwise, I would have a pretty damn good career lined up for me.

Travel more. Wonderlust.
I want to learn more, see more, understand more. I want to spend my time in other countries, watching people, living the life. Appreciating the differences amongst us. A friend of mine once wrote of her idea of being a Romantic. I cannot agree more with her. I am a romantic. I want to travel the dusty sands of the Sahara. Travel the original Silk Road. I want to head to sea and return months later, wizened and in touch with the winds and the stars.

Be less responsible of others
I am tired of being the stable fort of others. Tired of being the only one there. I am human. I am incapable of perfection and perfectly capable of mistakes. I cannot hold yours, I cannot be responsible for yours. I do not want it. I want you, all of you... to take responsibility for your choices or lack of choices. I cannot be your rock. Anymore.
I am growing, and being stable for you stagnates my own growth.

Live
I want to live. Aimlessly. Perfectly.
Cease caring. Responsibility. I want to make choices based on gut not rationality. I want to jump on planes to countries to jump off into the blue sky.
I want to laugh and smile and be joyful. I want every breathe of my time on earth to count. To bring as much happiness as it could ever.

I will live

"One of the reasons why we crave love, and seek it so desperately, is that love is the only cure for loneliness, and shame, and sorrow. But some feelings sink so deep into the heart that only loneliness can help you find them again. Some truths about yourself are so painful that only shame can help you live with them. And some things are just so sad that only your soul can do the crying for you."
(Shantaram)

We dance the night away. I flirt with everyone to cover my tracks. To make sure nobody knows. And so we danced around everyday people. Once in a while our eyes locking together. Furtive glances as we pass each other. Fighting the urge to pull him down and kiss him. Little winks he gives me at the end of the day.

Everyone leaves. A little less upright, a lot more happier. I run into the bathroom to escape the group of people walking by.

He calls me
"Where are you?"

I let myself into his room. Using the key they had given me downstairs. I walk in and he looks at me. We kiss by his bed's edge, grabbing each other for all the seconds we could not before.

He is kind and gentle and amused. I am babbling incoherently. Unaware of what I was saying to him.

We sleep. He hugs me close and doesnt let go. For the first time since I have been with him we sleep without care. His snores no longer wakes me. I do not get up all night walking to the bathroom.

We wake up as his phone rings. I open my eyes to see him quickly getting ready.

He packs. I watch.

Done.

It is over, me and him. Nothing else to fight for. As much as I want him, he doesnt have it in him to fight for me.

He kisses me, a million kisses, and tells me he will find me the next time he is in town. I hug him from behind as he puts on his shoes. Smell him, and my sweat on him.

I miss him already. My taboo.

He kisses me again. Fina goodbyes, no tears, no misery.

My Taboo leaves me. Empty hearted yet again. Curled up in his bed smelled of us.

I wake up later. And he is gone. I pick up the things he had left behind. His namecard. His work documents. I pick up any reminders that he was ever there. Any evidence that I was.

Bye bye baby. I miss us dancing around everyday people. Knowing that they dont know what we have between us.

Apparently 'tis the season to be married. Or perhaps Ive just reached that age where everyone surrounding me has decided to settle down.

Just came back from the wedding in that country down under. Paul Smith's best friend got married to her Luke Skywalker. Im serious, they had Luke and Princess Leia on their wedding cake. If thats not love, then I dont know what it is. She showed me her engagement ring. It was like a solar system landed on her finger and erupted in one big dazzling ball of DIAMOND. ~1.4-1.5 is my guess. That brilliant.

So I travelled the five hours journey to see them wed, because to be honest, she was wonderful to me throughout my fiasco with Paul. Whilst Paul treated me like crap in London, she was the one who took me out, pulled me aside, gossiped with me about Paul's ex-girlfriends. You see, Paul's housemate was the groom that night. So, after our sojourn together in London, how could I not be at the wedding? especially also considering I had been tactfully cut out of all our London pictures which were shown at the wedding reception (I think Paul was a little ashamed of the fact that I was there with him or something)

Leia as I shall call her (I think its quite appropriate) also took good care of me when I traveled down to her country earlier this year. Even though I helped nudge Paul out of his old job and into his new one, he barely had time to meet up, and it was Leia who brought me out, who took me for lunches whilst gossiping with me and letting me know that she didnt like the new girlfriend, that I was the only decent girl Paul had ever dated.

Seriously, how could I not go for her wedding?

The point of the story is not about me, or me and Paul. The point is that these two people that I had known beforehand decided to promise their lives to each other, and I was fortunate enough to be there when they did it. Privileged to be offered this little glimpse.

Tomorrow I have been invited to become one of the 'sisters' at my colleagues wedding. I have gotten close to the bride over the year and when it came to choosing sides, I decided it would have been more fun to be taunting the groom then helping him. Also, as a true judge of great character, they have decided to put moi in charge of the afterparty. =)

To my ol' capitane. A giant congrats on what apparently had been a one year engagement. Man I always feel like Im the last one to know this stuff

And I ended up sitting next to two couples who were about to wed next year. One of which thought I was 26 because of my job title (now I dont know whether to be offended or proud)

People are starting to settle down. Some so lucky that they have met the loves of their lives so early on.

As for me, my salacious taboo would have been the best choice. Parts of me love him. But I know, that huge parts of me, love the idea of loving him more. He makes me laugh more than anything else. Reminds me to take life less seriously. I do not expect to be loved by him at all. But just the same, its nice to care like this again.

He is leaving me for good come Sunday. Men whom I could spend the rest of my lives with seem to have a tendency to do that. Just pick up and leave. But there is nothing at all left that I could do.


If he wants me, he would fight for me. But I know that this is not what we both want.

Tomorrow though, I would settle for a big hug, endless well of kisses and the lie of love that I sleep next to.

Though I am looking for what the groom's brother mentioned at the wedding

"He told me 'I think Ive found the woman I want to grow old with.. the woman I want to wake up every morning next too...' "

First year of college

I laid next to Paul Smith curled up asleep in his bed. It was raining, I knew this because in the middle of the night I woke up and he was nearby. He whispered softly "Its pouring outside. Isnt it beautiful" In my half awoken slumber I couldnt truly appreciate it, though I appreciated his soft breathe in my ears. His side of the bed was heavier, and as I turned, I rolled closer. I was aching to touch him. Dying to have him kiss me into oblivion.

I started falling asleep again. And I tasted an instance. The briefest of instances where he grazed his lips over mine while I slept.

It ended there. Went no further. I could never listen to that song again. The one he loved. The one that was playing that night.

A year or two before we got sloppily drunk and slept together entangled in sheets and clothes while our glasses or red wine draped lazily on the dresser. Our body a tangled mess. My arms numb from being slept on.

We laughed. But I still couldnt listen to that song.

Another year goes by, and I cross the sea to see him on a weekend. I give up my vacation to be with him. I stay indoors to talk to him online.

I lose my mind ensnared to be his marionette. I dance to his tune, move when he wished.

He didnt realize that he was in that much control of me. And I still couldnt listen to that song.

Time went by. And I grew up. I fell in love. The real insatiable deliriously happy love this time. The kind that never hurts you on purpose. The kind that makes you feel better about being you.
I could listen to that song. But I didnt.

Finally after all these years, I travel down to his country. I see him, since we are not supposed to be friends. He looks as good as he did all these years before when I swore I would love him forever.

He is a different man, I am a different woman. What else can be said about that?

We are friends now. Or at the very least, acquaintances that dont kill each other. I am going down again for his best friends wedding. I will see him again.

Sitting in this cafe, as his song came on, feeling nothing but fulfillment for myself. I realized how much I have grown.

It feels so good to not hurt from him anymore. And to enjoy the song for everything it reminded me off. The melancholic state of finally closing the chapter on that journey

In his room actually. His room. He is sitting in front of me working whilst Im sitting here pretending. Well actually not really. I do actually have to work. I like how he understands that. The stupid fickleness of my industry. The pain, the stress. The crying in the office when no one is around, hoping to dear god somebody comes over and puts you out of your misery.

Urgh. Its a bitch I know.

Time spent with him is beautiful. No matter how fleeting. He finds me in his sleep. Holds me close. We wake up in the morning, a tangled mess as we kiss.

Taboo taboo taboo. This whole thing; me and him.

Nobody can find out. Too much at stake for the both of us.

But time with him. Sitting in this room.

I feel a whole lot better

Sitting at the table. Watching him across from me. He eats, laughs, regales us with stories of his life.

All I can think off is why he hasn't made a move. Why he isnt even interested in asking me to come over.

I think about it more and I figure its not right for me to demand of this, to want to have something more than the nothing we already have. I have no say over his mind, his body. I have no say over his life. Nor do I ever want to, nor should he ever have over me.

I come home, and I think of the story of one. Of how, in completely realistic sense, it is extremely possible that people like me may walk through the rest of our lives alone.

Passing the cars on the way in, I thought, it sure would be nice to have a hand to hold right now.

I dont want the maybe's, I dont want to settle. I dont want anything less than what I deserve. But sometimes, you feel so lonely you just want company. Sometimes youre so empty you just want a distraction.

The cute colleague at work told me "you have friends who care about you. Sex doesnt solve that"

Caring is so much more different than loving.

Kisses laced with meaning. Fingers travelling down your life partners navel. Hands held because you want to always be connected to the other person. Hugs given freely to put a smile on your face. Eyes locked into each others. Understanding each others jokes. Anger dissipating when you think about the lifetime you have to argue forever.

Love. Love is better than sex of course. But that human connection. Sometimes I still crave that. To be touched and caressed as woman should. To fake love sometimes - and even more dangerously falling into the pit of your own creation.

To hold hands under a starry night and say nothing

I am sitting in a cafe right now. In front of me a man is playing the piano. Beautiful notes cascading through the air. Beside me there are huge fake trees with leaves scattered around its base, reminding me of fall in Chicago. Behind the piano man is glass, as far as the eye can see, and outside people are strolling, shopping, enjoying their lives.

I am sipping a cup of semi-cold coffee, a result of lack of attention for the past 3 hours.

Oh did I mention that Ive been here for over four hours now

Did I also mention I have been working non-stop since I got here
Oh, and its Sunday

Sometimes I hate my life.

He picks me up. Plops me on his bed. We are laughing at how ridiculous it all is.
He topples while setting me down. His body weight on mine.
Our lips are an eyelash away from each others. Our bodies intertwined.

He says no to me. Denies me himself.
Tells me it feels wrong, that he doesnt want to take advantage of me.
He says no, but he starts caressing my body
Says no but starts kissing me

Says no against me by pushing himself on me.

I had pined for him for so long. Finally ... finally... finally tasting him

Afterwards he rests his head on my belly
We sleep whilst holding hands
We shower
We grab lunch

We are both so tired from the lack of sleep. Both completely sapped off of our energy.

I want him. I want to date him. I want to be with him.

But I think for now though. Im just happy that I finally got him.

So apparently my sisters hamsters were smart enough to climb to the roof of the little house in their double story cage, nibble at the door, pushed it open and ran out.

Freedom!

We are all looking for the elusive winter hamster now.
It is about the size of my thumb... bent

Hopefully I dont accidentally step on it

Do you remember me?
Do you remember how it felt like, to come home to me. Watch me wash the dishes while you sat in that round chair telling me how your day went.
Do you remember the way you would walk up behind me and held me close. The way you smelled my hair. The way you kissed my neck.
Do you remember the way we used to watch tv together. The way you cooked and how I kept on pilfering your food.

Do you remember me and the way we used to snuggle together under warm covers in the middle of December.

The way you ripped my clothes whilst we claw into each others backs.
They way you silenced me with a hundred kisses and your body weight on mine.

The way we were raw. The way we were tender.

The way we looked at each other.
The way we loved each other.

I do.
Sometimes.

I still miss us. And the way I remembered you before.
I still miss the way nothing in the world could've torn us apart.

The way you loved me.
Unconditionally

Last night I enjoyed Friday Pool Party/ happy hour with my colleagues. As I swam in the pool with the bride to be, fireworks shot up behind the towers. It was quite amazing actually to be in a pool, that high up, and have fireworks light up the sky right in front of your eyes.

Then of course, we went out dancing. The whole bunch of us. The bride-to-be's friends friend was having a birthday party and had some quite single boys.

I think Ive been out of the game too long, I was chicken shit and didnt even flirt even thought they were c-u-t-e. Opting instead to drink and dance with my friends like Ive been doing every weekend.

*sigh* (mental note to self: One cannot call oneself a serial maneater, if one does not have men, to serially eat).

Mr Chess was there. Wow, to say that it was awkward would be an understatement. I said hi to his girlfriend. And he stood there behind her looking at me. He acted like he didnt know me, even when I pulled him near, kissed him on each cheeck and said hello. Of course, knowing him I am in no doubt he wouldve blamed it on the alcohol. Ah well, I guess my post-fling assessment was right. He is indeed a coward.

Hahaha, even weirder was that our mutual friend was there, watching us interact. Probably replaying the whole time, that one time he had caught Mr Chess kissing me. I said my peace, said hello and left.

Continued dancing the night away with the friends.

Do you remember the man that was mentioned on my previous blog? the deja-beau? Apparently what the prodigy had called The Italian look-alike?

Well it turns out, he looked nothing like The Italian and had a lot better manners. (though he did slap me last night. That Bastard). Well Deja-beau and I have gotten along splendidly well. We click and jive and all that jazz. I love that this white guy is so local he knows how to order local dishes, speaks like a local and acts like a local.

Well last night, I also requested he act as my fake bf just in case the ex came around.

On the way home, he asked me about the ex, and I told him almost everything.

He called me cold, slapped me on the shoulder and labeled me the agent of satan.
I cracked up like an insane woman... what?! it was funny!

And I realized how right he was. I am cold. I really dont care anymore. I guess I have taken the extreme of my therapists advice and just stopped caring about everyone.

A planned tryst with Eccentric might get me back in the game.

But for now, I kept on thinking, I have to keep growing. Myself, inside and out. So I messaged the sculptor and asked him to take me out tomorrow. To show me art.

After all, in a few months, I shall be immortalized forever in a painting. I might as well understand its value.

On a hop skip and a jump today, I ended up dropping as much money as I did last weekend. I swear, shopping with my mother is like having the agent of shopping satan come visit me.

Hey you
What you doing there, walking by yourself?

She trips, she stumbles and she falls

Hey you
What are you up to? Why are you so glum?

No, Im fine. See this smile plastered on my face

Hey you
What's wrong?

Nothing.
She replies a little too quickly

Nothing...nothing... nothing at all

I watch her
Perfect her
Embody her

But I watch as she watches from inside the glass room, pounding on the windows. Hoping that woman that she loves so much does'nt die of a broken heart

so i went clubbing last weekend with the bride to be.

We went to a few (re: ~4 clubs)

So many people in each club was doing the running man!

What the fuck people.

Wasnt that move like outlawed

I broked myself out this weekend. Going on massive retail therapy since I had no clothes (re: dignity) left.

Yesterday I did my accounts and almost cried. Urgh, thank god I had a little savings stashed away.
0% APR is the devil I swear

On another note, I have the sluttiest classy dress ever! which I shall be wearing to the wedding of the year afterparty. Im throwing a hen night for the bride. Anyone know where I can get a good male stripper in this country?

Piece of good news. I put myself out there and heard a response. Its not formal, its not anything, but it was just a response to me.

I feel wanted by the world again.

Sometimes, you hit the bottom thinking you're worthless, that the world doesnt make sense, that everything you worked for is gone. Of course you breathe, you find a way out, and hop gravity shows you its the right way

As for that other problem that I had. I guess after all these years, it is simply something I cannot solve or deal with, so I would much rather take the lionly way of simply running away

Me: Hullo, sis?
Sis: whuthe. huh. whu? *indecipherable gibberish*
Me: Woi, your car lights is on
Sis: huh? But its dark downstairs
Me: I’ll wait for you to come down

Elevator dings
Sister steps out looking groggy and half asleep

Sis: Are you sure my car lights are on?
Me: Yeah

Walks

Sis: Are you drunk?
Me: No!

Walks to the car….I realize… it’s the wrong car…

Me: Ooppsss.. hhihiihihhii. But it looks exactly like your car! (points at black car)
Sis: It’s a different type of car!

Sis gives me a glaring look. Invokes some swears, and we walk back home

Yesterday I came clean with a man I have immense respect for. He works very hard, is smart, witty.
He is of course, The Older Man

I didnt want to, but perhaps in that awkward silence in the car he realized that my answers were not honest. I did not want to influence his judgment of me so I said we can talk about it later.

He called me later that evening, and we had a brief chat.

He says he wants to help me, I guess he honestly cares about me to want to try and save me.

So we worked out a few plans, planned out a few paths, then he let me go, walking, while he waited at the other end.

And I fell. Not only fall. I was silent as he asked me questions. Unable to come up with an answer, unable to even try.

It was exactly how people described it. Deer eyes staring into headlights as the car rams you down.

Nothing hurts so much as knowing you have just disappointed a man you've admired so much. A man who was there, willing to take time out of his very busy life, to help you. And to fall flat on your face, sensing his disgust that for a split second he could've dained to care.

I guess I was wrong. The worst feeling that you can have is disappointment in yourself.
To know that you had let yourself down.

Maybe I should just quit

Yesterday I came clean with a man I have immense respect for. He works very hard, is smart, witty.
He is of course, The Older Man

I didnt want to, but perhaps in that awkward silence in the car he realized that my answers were not honest. I did not want to influence his judgment of me so I said we can talk about it later.

He called me later that evening, and we had a brief chat.

He says he wants to help me, I guess he honestly cares about me to want to try and save me.

So we worked out a few plans, planned out a few paths, then he let me go, walking, while he waited at the other end.

And I fell. Not only fall. I was silent as he asked me questions. Unable to come up with an answer, unable to even try.

It was exactly how people described it. Deer eyes staring into headlights as the car rams you down.

Nothing hurts so much as knowing you have just disappointed a man you've admired so much. A man who was there, willing to take time out of his very busy life, to help you. And to fall flat on your face, sensing his disgust that for a split second he could've dained to care.

I guess I was wrong. The worst feeling that you can have is disappointment in yourself.
To know that you had let yourself down.

Maybe I should just quit

I send him an sms asking if he would like to join me for coffee. He says ok.

We sit amongst friends and families. A wife asks me if I was seeing anyone, at which point I started coughing. I coo at her baby and she tells me theyre only cute for a little while.

They leave, the families, and he and I are left alone. He walks with me across the street, getting mildly wet by the rain. He sits with me for a few hours, over a cup of coffee and water.

We talk, and we get to know each other a little bit better.

I fall in love with him a little bit. Him and his smiling dimples. Him and his young face.
Him and his philosophies on life, on religion, on economics.

For one second I think, I could marry him.

We both had brought books out with us for our relaxing weekend. His, non-fiction. Mine. Fiction. We talk about history and how he likes the reality that it is. The facts. I tell him that I too enjoy that, that I learn about history from the view of the people, the family.

He tells me stories about China are always depressing.

We sit, and we are silent. He has seen my wild side, he has seen my crazy side.
Today for the first time he sees my silent side. My mellow side.

My friend tells me to go for it, to make him want me.

But I know when to hang up the white towel, when to know that he is a friend, nothing more.
As much as I loved him without him knowing. As much as I find him my kindred soul mate.

I cannot make him love me.

After all, I cant do this all on my own, I know now, Im no Superman....

There is nothing like reaching into the deepness of your core and not caring. Of knowing you can drink yourself to death and act a fool and say all the wrong things

I like where Im going with this, the freedom of novelty and new ideas.
I can say do not worry about me, but all of you will

So all I can say is, I know I have been here before, I got through it before, I will again in my own sweet time

I do not want to hear words of encouragement, of worry. I do not want to feel guilty for leaving you alone, for not taking care of you, I do not want to feel responsible for your unhappiness, for the fact that my not being there means your life is over.

I do not want to hear mushiness from anyone and everyone.


And so last night, as I dropped him off the corner of his street. He gets out, takes his things and turns to me. Quickly just before he leaves, a soft peck on my shoulder, a goodbye.

I am surprised by a man I knew was not interested. A potential I had let go.

I am surprised by our laughter in the car, him nibbling my arm. Him curled up in my car shoes taken off.

I am gladly gladly surprised.

Stretched beyond my abilities. Pulled into fights I never want to know off. Forced to choose sides in a war of pain, neverending

I am too beyond myself to help anyone but myself. I cannot be there for anyone else, until I am there for me

I am piled with responsibilities. Unwanting, unmasking

Apparently, Im the only person who can be trusted with these duties.

I have no idea how things are right now, if blood battles have skived the floors. If scars unmending blossom open again against the slightest touch.

I want to retreat, and hide and wish that it will all stop, that it will all go away.

I just want to go back to when I was a kid and the world made sense and was safe.

But no, I am the only one responsible remember? The only one who can fix all the problems surrounding me

Im supposed to to choose my battles. To fight only those that are worth fighting, worth caring. That knowledge doesn't silence the screams I hear around me, it doesn't silence the pleas that I have to help. To fix, to mend. It doesn't stop me from dreaming of death, of succumbing painlessly into a deep sleep where I no longer have to worry, no longer have to cry

I. really. hate. being. the. responsible. one. the. breadwinner. the . stoic. daughter. the unbending. friend. the. unyielding. lover. the. girl. who. smiles. and. dances. her. heart. out. The. labeled. party. girl.

I am tired of everything. I am tired of being pulled to pieces
What have I ever demanded from you? of you?
Nothing. I have never asked for anything. I have created and built everything that I am.

World leave me alone

After seven years of lies, I think their world finally cracked

Separation has never been so needed in one's life. Never so welcomed in some.

A call, a voice, filled with sadness. A question to which he never answers. Sadly, the sadness is not for me, the tears not for me.

He has ceased caring about me. Stopped so long ago I have forgotten what its like to be with a man who is supposed to love me unconditionally, protect me beyond all costs. Because of him I am the person I am today. Because of him I am unable to let anyone near.

I think its over for now, and I am at the helm. Life has never been such a bitch to me before.

But the world never stops spinning, even if yours is crumbling into pieces around your feet, so I paste a smile on my face

The people at my company are a solid bunch of males. In an industry where men dominate and in a constant game of “who has the bigger balls”, women are usually left to aside fighting for that little space to call their own.

Right now the target is to have a female for every three guys. An odds that trust me, would have improved my social life much.

Of the bunch, its really nice to be working with Filipino men, and to find out that they are indeed the most gallant gentlemen of the bunch. I work with one right now and he is seriously kind. The kind of man who walks you to your car without asking, holds open the door for you and will always ask if you need a hand with that heavy bag. Polite and very nice. What a catch right?

Yesterday I shared a car with Mr 1987 and a few other senior officers. I was stuck sitting in the back seat of a car that would fit 4. Thank god for the little extra seat at the back. When we arrived at our destination, all of the senior officers stepped out, with Mr 1987 closing the door on me before I could even say anything. Flabbergasted (what? he already mistook me for another girl a few times around), I said thanks to the driver and walked away. I thought nothing of it, him being my senior and all and was so surprised to get an email today from him apologizing for closing the door in my face =D

Last night I was hanging out with a new colleague. A guy my age that shares the same wavelength with me. He asked me how long its been since I last dated. So I told him the truth, 2 years my friends. My social life has officially been over for too long now.

Sleeping with men don't count as dates.

Dates: A guy actually asking you out for dinner, or lunch, or something! to get to know you better in the hopes of finding the right mate to start a relationship

Last year I was hanging out with my then boss and he asked me the same question, at which point of course it had been just one year.

A few weekends ago, another friend asked me and was shocked (he just HAD to exaggerate the face) to find out I haven’t had a relationship in two years.

Then they all look at me like its my fault. What?!

You think I want to be single for the rest of my life? I have been constantly reminded of the dooming bells of motherhood starting to swoop down trying to sink its tentacles into me.

I don't know if you guys would react that way. Would it be a surprise to know that I haven’t been asked out once in over two years?

The newbie listed out my demographics, making me sound like quite a catch. Then we stared at each other in disbelief

Him: And you haven’t been asked out in the past two years?
Me: Nope

And with my old rule of never dating colleagues, I guess thus ends the relationship shelf life of this serial maneater

Though I would have given up that stupid rule for Mr 1987. Le sigh

*here she lies, a lonely single woman, she had lots of friend, handbags and lots of men*

I must admit I have a pretty awesome job. Even though its 1.17 a.m and I just decided to finish working I still think I have it good. Its not their fault that I am most productive so late into the night.

I chugged down 2 cups of iced coffee and a red bull just to get through today. There are four more cans of red bull on my table

My job is very detailed, and I have to constantly check my work to make sure I dont miss anything. Of course sometimes we still do. We still are human after all.

I have managed to go to so many new places this year, hugely contributed by the fact that I have this job. I managed to go to

1) Hong Kong
2) Australia
3) Singapore (for the first time ever!)
4) India
5) Taiwan
6) Indonesia - Bali with the company, how could I forget! and Medan with the Godbrother

and will be heading to
5) Bangkok (never been to Thailand either)
6) Hopefully Vietnam and Laos if my colleague decides to join me

But today over dinner, my friend mentioned to me, he is thinking of buying a stake in a dance school for his wife. As he casually mentioned "why not, she likes dancing, itll keep her happy"

*sigh* I only wish I could have a hubby that wouldnt mind dropping 50K on buying a stake in a dance school just so that I can be happy.

I agreed with him of course, and wondered. If it wasnt for the fact that I like having money, if I did somehow manage to find someone who wanted to take care of me and I never had to worry about working. What would I like to do?

Of course there's shopping. But I love shopping for me using my own money
I like dressing up, but am nowhere near a height enabling me to model for a living
I love dancing but somehow I doubt parents want me to teach their kids how to dance like a slut on a flaming bartop

I could travel the world, but I doubt a hubby would pay for me to do that. After all wouldnt part of the deal be my being right beside him
I could be a buyer for stores but dont have the crazy fashion skills to tell the difference between rayon and cotton

If it came down to it, I thought long and hard, and figured, for now, I would love to be a book critique

Get paid to read and write reviews, have editors grovel at my feet to get me to endorse their books. Be able to work anywhere, anytime

And get to do the one thing that I have loved doing forever - disappearing into a different world with every flicker of a page

ahh... bliss...
For now, am reading 'Half of a yellow sun' and loving it

Banged kneecap against corner of the table.
ohmyfuckinggodthishurtslikeamotherfuckeiwantojustdie

Hope I didnt cause a fracture or anything...
after all, this weekend I FINALLY get to party in Bangkok...

*will wear flats until Friday*

He is built, good looking, wit so sharp he could cut diamonds in the rough. We used to compare notes on our conquests, laugh over missed steps tears over coffee over sitting in out living room talking about life.

We loved hanging out with each other that summer, so much so that I asked him to move in with me the following year.

It was a bit harder this time around. He was barely around and I resented him when he was. His dishes piling up in the sink. His crazy ex gf stalking our house. My ex-bf back then who wasnt the ex would always be around and we never had privacy.

When my ex installed the air conditioner in my room that summer he would come in and lie next to me, we watched really bad tv shows on that tv that I hadnt blown yet and lay next to each other trying to not melt. Me walking around in my bra and shorts. Him in his boxers.

We were never shy at all about things, then I graduated and moved on. He moved on, we barely kept in touch.

We both got good jobs and he located to south east asia. And I didnt hear from him forever, until last week

When he decided to tell me he was visiting me as a surprise.

I dont get it, I have loved this boy for so long and he has loved me too. We get along incredibly well, get each others jokes and thoughts. We both love sex and find the other person attractive. He has a good stable job now and is smart enough I have confidence he would never have any problems anywhere

Why didnt I date him? I honestly have no idea....

I thought about you. My elusive fluid memory trickling what is left out of my mind.

I remembered you, and the way you made me feel. My heart pumping insanely everytime I thought you were nearby. You would walk out so casually to meet my brother. So casual that I could only glance at you but not stare. I wanted to be beside you all the time. So badly. I wanted you to hold my hand and kiss me like those people that we saw on tv.

I liked you so much I told you I hated you. We would play fight and part of me wanted to pummel you into the ground and knock your teeth out.

Instead I played rounders with you I wanted to whoop your ass. We played opposite sides and everytime you passed the bat to me and our fingers touched I knew it deep down inside.

You loved me too!

The way you smiled at me, then the way you ignored me.
I was dirty from playing, my clothes didnt match and I probably smelled. But you looked good. You always looked good. Your glistening shining black hair.

I grasped at conversations to be with you. Faked knowing everything to know you.

What can we do. We were kids. Nine years old and we thought we knew the world.

Funny though. All those years after.

You came to visit alone. Came to see me when my house was full of girls giggling at you whilst I hid behind my braces and invited you in to eat.

How I tricked you into writing to me, long letters penned to my alter-ego. A combination of your name and mine.

I kept all the letters by the way. In case one day our paths should cross again and perhaps now, years later, what I had known deep down inside wouldve happened.

We would fall in love again

A hasty kiss barely remembered. Did it happen? or didnt it?
Diaries from those years filled with more I hate you's than any recognition of an event.

You were my first love, nothing wouldve torn me apart from you.
I held you in my heart, waiting in a corner.
Until that day, when you moved away
And you didnt even say goodbye

I am proud of where I come from.

If most of you, are as I think you are, from my old blog. You may remember me ranting about a particular 'model' in my home country that claims she came from my university. It pissed me off when I first read it in a newspaper article, and its cheesed me off ever since, every time I think about it.

Thing is, and here comes the arrogant part of me.
1) She is claiming to graduate with a degree that is not being offered at my school. Hello! pick a degree that exists you moron
2) Because of that, I think she's a moron
3) Rumours been spreading round recently that the reason why she has been married, divorced and married again before she turned 27 is that she got caught with soon to be second husband while married to first husband. Apparently caught in like the most literal sense
4) Because she got caught I think she's a moron. Not the morally righteous part

Anyways, as most anger of mine doesnt sit very well within me and needed to be vented. I wrote her a message on facebook.

I decided to be very civil, you know PC about it...

and so it reads...

Hi xxx,

You may not remember me, but years ago we used to train together on the rythmic gymnastic squad for the games. In fact, we went to camp Jaya together and if Im not mistaken you were staying with yyy. Perhaps it was too long a time ago.

Anyways, I just wanted to say congratulations on your recent success with writing and all. I have been away for a few years and was surprised to see your book when I came back.

What I also wanted to point out is that I actually studied in the University of my Alma Matter for four years. In all my years there I was the president for our country's student association. I have never come across your name as part of the reported student body nor have I ever come across Graphic Design as a degree offering at my school.

Thus it was with great surprise that I read in recent newspaper and magazine articles the report that you had recently actually graduated with such a degree from my school. Which I am not sure if you are aware, is an extremely serious academic school well known for its Economic courses and Nobel laureates.

I do hope that there is some clarification on your part to the journalists that may have mistakenly reported the wrong school on your behalf. In future, I do hope this matter will be resolved. Otherwise, I do believe it sends a wrong message to the public about my university offerings.

Take care

I thought that was very civil no? Of course on the off chance I am mistaken, I will invariably apologize. Should I not be hearing a response from her, you know I will take it up

*** updated

So she responded

hey there glad to hear from you..
yup they got it wrong i was in the performing art school not the chicago u..was really pissed when tht mistaken happen..had enough with the local journalist etc with making too much mistakes in everything tht they cover or are assign to..

and i did my graphic design in kl..


Ok. I feel better now. Whomever was at fault at least I know this woman would at least pay a bit more attention to it now. And if it happens again. You know I will take it up with the reporters this time

seriously? seriously?

blardy flights have gotten so expensive I am ending up with plenty of vacation days and nowhere to go this December.

Plans to go to Morocco have been waylaid as ticket prices shot up within a week. It would cost me >$1K bucks to get there and back. And Im sorry, Im going to miss seeing my friends. It wouldve been fun to catch up and travel with old college buddies like the good olds days. Plus Yahoo! boy takes good pictures... but I told them I cant. Next years travel plans looks fully booked and probably going to need lots of money.

*sigh* perhaps I do not make enough. Though really I shouldnt be complaining

So come December, I shall be travel-less with two hard earned weeks of vacation doing absolutely nothing.

Morocco = too expensive
Chiang Mai = hotels are fully booked
Cambodia = hotels are fully booked
Langkawi = hotels are fully booked

urgh... a suggestion from a colleague was to go to Hanoi, Vietnam. I checked it out, option looks viable and Ive never been. And I have a new lens I want t play with =D

Then she invited herself along, which I thought would be fun. She can probably take my picture =D

Then I realized.. I barely know this women. This may perhaps not have been a super smart idea after all. Ah well.

On another note. The Italian gave up sending me little messages that I never responded to - to poking. Prodding.

I gave in laughing, because seriously this whole poking business, cracks me up.

Perhaps I can get him to sponsor my vacations... =D hahahaa

You know that feeling, after you sit staring at your computer for 4 hours straight. Researching. Reading everything. In small fonts. Trying to find that one guy in the whole universe who also thought the same ideas and decided to put it online?

Urgh.
I didnt find him/ or her I guess

I feel like I just wasted 4 hours of my life, circling back right where I left off.

I still dont know jack shit.

I watch you fall. Headfirst, body jumping willing able into that dark oblivion. You dont want to fight, rather not fight and prefer to keep things the way they are. You want the drama. You want the pain. You want the realization that people are bullshit and men are crap and the world isnt fair. You want it all and you want it now.

My words mean nothing. My thought and worries mean nothing. For friends, do simply that. They are supposed to watch as friends jump off willingly into a sea of hate and pain and self loathing and messes. Friends watch sipping a cup of coffee as the body falls flat onto the ground. Friends watch as you slowly, somehow, painfully extricate your body from the pavement of lost loves and men that have crushed you under a sea of misery. Friends are merely spectators to your life, never willing participants.

I'm sorry that part of me doesnt want that to happen. Im sorry that part of me never wants to see you hurt. Im sorry that my wanting this inexplicably hurts you. It is the same no matter which way round. Because friends. True friends. Never want to see you unhappy just so that you can learn some life lessons. Friends never want to watch the blood and gore of an accident so easily avoidable.

Friends. Will always want to protect you, shield you, will take a bullet so that you never have to meet the dark corners of light, so that the world will always remain safe for you.

Perhaps at the end of the day, what is my mistake is that my understanding of friendship and yours differ. While I wish for nothing but happiness for the ones closest to me, your wish is to never let anyone try to dictate your life for you. Which may include well meaning advice. While I would leap in front of careening car without a thought to save you, you never want to be saved.

You want me to watch you fall. And be there when you somehow, painfully, somewhere extricate yourself.

I will honor your wishes. I will leave you be. Because at the end of the day. My sanity is worth far more than yours. One of us amongst all over us, has to always be ok at one point in time. Today, it may be me. Tomorrow, it may be you.

Life would never work if all of us was wallowing in self pity and despair.

Im walking away. One of these days, when youre ready, and you have washed the blood of your hands and healed the broken bones within. Come find me. I cannot do this to myself. Im sorry. I love you to much to watch you fall. But I love me too much to know when to walk away.

In my head the world is perfect. Mr 1987 comes up with me after dinner and in my slinky black dress in my suave little loft, I offer him a glass of wine. We laugh, he makes like he is going to wash the glasses and kisses me against the counter.

All my friends are happy and I am able to just bask alongside with them in our mutual joy. I no longer have to fight the inner fight, the realization that I cannot do anything for them. That they have to fight their battles too.

I think the biggest fights I have with myself is learning to know when I can and cannot help fight their battles.

Then I wake up.

We used to light lanterns around the house. Every night. We had 20 in total. Blue, green, red. We were one of seven houses in that row. And every night, all seven of us had our lanterns up. Us kids playing outside. Guessing which night the angel came down and gave us the Holy Book

We used to run outside and play. Every night of the fasting month. My father used to spend hundreds just to keep us entertained. I remember the stash of fireworks. I remember having to ration it for a month. How my father stepped outside, took the one that had to be held up and let it fly into the sky.

I remember how all of us front row kids would meet up. One group, one band. My mother yelling at my brother to make sure nothing happens to me

We used to sit in front of the tv. Us siblings. Watching as that all powerful man declared the day that Eid was going to fall on. I remember running outside yelling loudly to announce the day.

At work today, I mentioned that when I have kids (not if, mind you. When) I want to chase them outside to play. Let them climb trees and fall. Learn how to ride a bicycle.

Then I remembered. Its not even safe anymore. People in my country will come and kidnap your children. They will sexually assault them. They will rape them. They will mutilate the bodies of innocent babies and stuff them in bags and leave them by the side of the road.

What has happened to my country that when I have children, they would not be able to go out and smell the rain on their skin. Be dragged by friends on coconut leaves. Play house outdoors while forcing their brother to eat their pretend cooking?

Happy Eid everyone...

"Drive safe"
We lock eyes
smile

And I drive away.



He is Mr 1987. A very good year.
He is tall
and built
and wise
.

He is cute
and articulate
and knows some wines
.

Did I mention that he is older
more successful
More powerful than me

He makes more
studied more
.

Yet.

He isnt married.

Not only that. I dont even think he has a girlfriend.

Why is it this case?

A man, at that age, with that power. Why is he single?
Is he gay?

Man.. I really hope not.
Trust my luck that a man I think is cute, articulate, good shape, makes more, earns more, wise, SINGLE

Would be gay

*sigh*
I havent had a crush this bad since The Older Man (of which a little crush still remains)
damnit!

My secret tip to you. Forever.
Money. Money doesnt make the world go round.

I get tired sometimes, of people who think that money solves all problems. It doesnt. Im tired of people complaining that they dont have enough. We never will. Sometimes it takes living within your means, sometimes it takes the clarity of mind to know that things. Material things. Cannot buy you happiness

Its cliche'ed I know. But thats the truth. People say to me, if I had your money, I would be so much happier. You wont. I know. It would only mask your sadness for a little bit. Make you forget for a little bit. But you would still be empty inside, and you will begin to wonder if something is wrong with you that having everything in the world still cannot fix you.

I have money.
I make money.

I am happier now than I was in college, true. But its related more to the fact that my family and friends are here with me. That I can be with them.

All the money in the world couldnt have bought me that.

And yes, to make all this money, I work. I work like a dog sometimes, most times. I fall under stress and I get sad and depressed and I cry. And I complain, and I worry. I get scared that this, all this that I have will be taken away from me.

Is that really the way you want to live?

Of course, I know. This is the kind of thing where you would never believe, or never understand until youre actually in the situation. You tell me, of course you can say things like that, you have money. So I cant say. And you wont understand. And you would think that if you were me, you would have spent it all. But lets face it, in the beginning, its fun.

You cash out everything, dont think twice about what youre going to buy. You can go anywhere, do anything.

But then its over. Its like binge eating or drinking. You get your fill. Say wow that was great. Then you settle down and eat small portions. You drink iced water like everyone else.

You are no different, and sometimes you dont even think about what you have or dont have in the bank.

Money, doesnt solve anything. Money cannot buy you everything.

But if you honestly think it does, dont just take my word for it. Go out, do whatever it takes to get that money (hell, I had three jobs in college and barely slept). Dont complain that I have money and you dont.

Go make some.

I havent written in a while.
My inspiration seems to have taken a back seat. I realized looking at friends... that I have lost that urge within me, to care so much about someone else. I care about my family, I care about my friends. But dramatizing the men in my life...
I feel that I am starting to leave them behind

We dramatize so that we feel special. We hope, that just like the books and the songs and the sonnets, that we could hold fate in our hands and morph our future into what we want it to be

We want to control some part of out destiny.

I am done playing those games. I am happy to say I have not responded to The Italian in almost a month now, amidst him sending me messages to tell me its complicated. To tell me he misses me.

I say, to hell with you. You do not care enough about me to be real about it. And I am shutting for good that chapter of my life.

I am done with Black Love. The one where you feel that you and him were destined to be together. If only he wasnt married... if only he wasnt engaged... if only he didnt have a girlfriend. If only time was different and you were different.

I am done pining my broken beaten up heart for you. I am tired of believing that love and life is supposed to be this difficult.

So I write less, simply because I care less, about the men who come and go. About the men who care as much about me as they do the partners they cheat.

I am ok. By myself, and I love. Myself.

***

I met a man last night. He is tall and in good shape and has a nice boyish face. As we talk, I am tempted to flirt, but I know nothing of this man. I do not know if he is married, if he is engaged, if he has a girlfriend, if he is gay, if he is asexual.

I dont really care, except I do.

We talked about condoms and who's responsibility it was to bring them. We talked about senior partners and how it was like working for them. He heard of my crazy stories of puking my guts out after a few drinks.

I want this man.

Then I find out... his youthful looks, his charming personality, belies the fact that he is a senior officer in a prestigious company... and probably >5 years older than me.

*bangs head against wall*

I want him.

I love seeing men in shirts crisply ironed. Walking down the street with a purpose. The world stops. He bends down.. squats... his fingers tickling the belly of a cat. Purrs

I love seeing men in shirts crisply ironed. Standing erect. Looking purposefully. Smiling. Laughing as he picks up a baby

I love adult men who act like children. I love adult men who love children.

I love that feeling... walking down the street. Seeing a cat. Purr. Looking around to make sure no one sees me. Bending down. Crouching. Squatting. Tickling the fur on its belly.

Shall I be honest?
Perhaps not so..

There is this female. She is the partner to one of the men that I was/perhaps still am seeing. She would be like all the other ladies to me, except I keep on seeing her in magazines and on tv. See, this female. She is I guess what people would call, a 'celebrity'

Her stature doesn't bother me. However, having her face popping up all the time, somehow... hmm.. Im not so sure what would be the apt word... annoys (?) me.

I dont know. Maybe its because in all the times that I see her, she is smiling, laughing like the world was amazing. Like everything was fabulous. Things are great. Maybe its because I know that if she knew what was going on behind her back, her world may change. She would still have that smile and that laughter. But it would be strained.

Life after all, perhaps I was wrong. Is not always beautiful.

I still dont feel guilty or wrong for what is going on between her and her partner. With the little detail of which I am involved. If she thinks that life is perfect.

Its not. And I can pull the plug in a nano second.

I am mean. And vile. And evil. I know.

It is that power struggle. That power high. Within. Knowing that I can make a concrete difference in someone's life. Carve my name like a burning stake into the rest of their lives. To be able to split something so intricately intertwined.

I will not apologize for my actions. Nor will I ever disclose of whomever it is. Because after all, the power only lies when it is a secret.

I may speak of my sins here. But this is where it ends. Why in the world would I ever want to kiss and tell.

When kissing is fun enough

I spent the whole week working, tired day after day after day. So used am I to the fact that my office is 10 minutes from my house that when I have to go to the client's place to work I actually have to get up a full hour! then when I would normally have to get up.

So I spent last night with good friends drinking in a good bar. We meet up almost every weekend or every other weekend, have drinks and have fun. Its funny how our conversations always seem to revolve around the same things and still entertains us after so long.

My friend's fiancee has the best breasts I have ever seen on a woman. I couldnt stop looking all night. Envious of course, now that my used to be C cup babies have gone down a grade.

I lost so much weight in India, and my appetite that its taking a bit longer to develop the hunger again to start filling up.

Apparently 56% of youth nowadays think theyre going to grow up famous (thanks Ryan Seacrest), I guess its no different for me either. I would like to think that I would be able to grow up and make a difference in the world. (Hows that for a Ms Universe speech). Or I could just be famously known as that girl you have to watch out for. Infamy isnt overrated you know.

I walked around by myself today, enjoyed the new mall that My Best Friend has been too and realized that there is indeed a little piece of heaven here on earth. You would most likely find me at Pavilion from now on. Well, maybe at the end of the month when pay comes in. =)

Then I went over to a little cafe overlooking an entrance and enjoyed my book and a good cup of cappuccino. Last night the question "what is your idea of a perfect weekend" came up and I replied.. me, a good book and a cup of coffee. Heaven indeed.

Right before I came back, I decided to check the gallery upstairs to see some works. Lo and behold, Metalworks' exhibition was up. It is surprising to look at art with the realization that you yourself know the man behind its making. Maybe not personally. But to know the face and the hands that went behind the work.

I am disappointed that I did not find out about an older legendary artiste' works when it was launched in a gallery I visited before. I would've loved to see his entire collection.

Tonight perhaps I shall join an old friend who is visiting from HK in a dance club downtown. Its been far too long and my dancing feet are chiding me

I woke up at 5.45 a.m from a nightmare of my own making.
Karma bit me while I was asleep and I was ready to murder. Stab twist and bleed.

I think I know how 'God' is getting back to me for all the evil Ive done in the world

All hail the genius that is The Best Friend who figured out how to set the comment box on on this damn thing

Haaaaaaaiiiiillllll

Happy Birthday!
Hope u had a good one, well if not, at least a good evening!

Apparently I have been pegged to be 'wife material'
HAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA

This is stupid. How do I set up the stupid comment box on!

She is leaning against the wall, her right wrist gently resting in the nook of her left elbow. Delicately a cigarette dangles by the edges of her fingers as the smoke frames her wispy hair. She is clad in a long tight silvery dress. Her height magnified by her high stilletos, her left knee peeking out from the slit in the side of her dress.

He is watching her from the car. Trapped in a cage of steel and glass of his own making. He thinks of her. Thought of her. Wants her. His hands grip the steering wheel of his car. He used to make fun of the threads of hair she left in the car. He had to clean it all up before his girlfriend came home.

She doesnt see him. Languid, catlike, she flicks her cigarette. Precisely crushes the butt with her heels. She stays. Still leaning against the wall. Staring out into the night.

His girlfriend is inside the building. She walks out, brushes past his Sephia. They look at each other a quick smile, a quick apology. She walks back to the car. Opens the door, steps in.

For an eternal second they lock eyes. Sephia Sephia Sephia.
She is surprised. Unexpecting. The black smoky eyes boring into his.

Sayang, what are you waiting for, let's go

He hesitates. Tears his eyes away. His heart is pounding. He puts the car in gear, drives away.

Sephia, you are better off without me, but I still dream of our nights together when I kissed you delicately by the base of your neck as I held you captive against the bed...I think of us standing out staring into the dark cold abyss and wrapping my arms around your waist... I think of us back when I didnt think of her, when for an instance in a lifetime all that was left was you and me.

Do not think I am worried...
I do not allow anyone to meet my men as far as I can help it.
A long time ago, my gf's used to complain that I changed men too fast, so I always told them, they would only meet those that matter to me.

My fun men, nope, no one meets them.
They are my kept secret as well. I trust that they will not tell, so I do not tell.

A friend asked me the other day, do I feel awkward sitting across from their partners, chatting up a normal conversation. I dont. I really dont. Its not something that makes me special, or them special. Its just something I dont think about.

My men's partners have met me, some of them have nice long conversations with me. I dont feel guilty. Sometimes, I think to myself, these women would probably kill me if they knew. But they dont, so I smile, and I talk to both them and their partners and it doesnt bother me in the least.

There are times though, when they are together, on a date or out in public when my friends are around, and I dont want to say hi, I dont want to meet them. I dont know what it is... I just dont feel like saying hello.

Because at the end of the day, I know, if and when they find out, it is my face that they will think of. They will replay all our conversations, laughters and they will call me a fraud, a fake, a bitch above all.

They wont blame their men, they will blame me for driving their men away. And they will most of all blame themselves.

Its not your fault ladies. Honest. Its theirs, the men who cant keep their pants on. And if they dont cheat with me, they could easily cheat with someone else. I just hasten the process.

Though I will not try to shift things to say that I am doing you a favor. I am not. I am just doing whatever it is people like me do.

I dont think I can stop. Stopping implies that they matter, both faceless men and women. But they dont. Not to me

I know what you think of me. Sometimes I think the same things too

A woman is primed to always look her best while men are allowed to just let themselves go. Things that we do to maintain looking good

Face moisturizer: 100
Body moisturizer: 15
Under eye cream: 100
Anti-acne cream: 10
Make-up remover: 100
Eyebrow shaping: 25
Gym membership: 175
Waxing: 100
Personal shampoo, conditioner, facial wash: 50
Hair treatment: 100

Total monthly upkeep: 775

Excluding makeup, clothes, shoes and handbags


Men:

Haircut: 10
Shampoo, conditioner, facial wash: 20 (unless they use freebies from the hotel)
ALCOHOL: 600

Total monthly upkeep: 620

Excluding car parts, upkeep of women, and the rare occasion of buying new clothes

p/s: Im still trying to figure out how to set the comment box on this. Do let me know if anyone of you know how

Im all excited as I step into his room. I had actually gone into the bathroom to change into my thong just for him. Im giggling like a mad woman at the prospect of getting laid when I go into his room, lie lazily on the bed next to him and he says....

I seem to have lost my sex drive

...

Sandman... MY SANDMAN... losing his SEX DRIVE?! my god, the world is coming to an end.

So instead, he decides to torment my by cupping my breasts and announcing quite gallantly.
Wow, your breasts got smaller

Against my protestation of him fondling me and not coming through with final deliverance, he shoves me against the wall and bites my neck... Hard.

We are laughing maniacally after.
I guess this is why Sandman's my fav buddy. We have this connection where we can just be stupid and still laugh about it and be friends.

Now if only he would fuck me more often....

I take it that many of you do not know me. Which is the way it should be. I have been writting blogs for a few years now. I am not looking for recognition or popularity. I want to write about things that I have gone through, things that I feel. Whatever is on my mind.

I do realize that in my previous blogs, the recurring theme that I liked writing about were about my relationships (though that might be too big a word). So I will write mostly about that.

Hope you enjoy