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.