Friday, September 25, 2009
I'm ok now. No, really. I SAID I'M OK DAMMIT!!!
Erm.... (awkward).
OK, so this weekend I am not planning anything. Well I definitely need to do some laundry (but don't worry, I'm masking the smell with free perfume samples so I'm still good until tomorrow.)
And as part of my new mission to accomplish... something (anything!), I've decided that I'm going back to salsa classes. I liked it, it liked me, so I really don't know what went wrong. I should have asked my belly dance class to ask him why he stopped talking to me but then I would've seemed so grade 8, and NO ONE wants to seem grade 8 (you know, clingy but in a non-commital sort of way). But that would also have led to another awkward conversation becos I stopped going to my belly dance class because I met a smarter and cuter belly dance class and was giving the old belly dance class the silent treatment and avoiding its calls so that it would get the hint (very grade 9, I know). Stop judging me!
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Wait for meeee...!!!
As I close my eyes,
I feel it all slipping away
(I come towards you)
We all got left behind,
We let it all slip away
Left Behind by Slipknot
I've been feeling really insecure lately. I don't know when I started feeling like this, but its been a niggling thing for a while. I'm feeling like life, real life, is passing me by. I haven't done anything I've ever really wanted to do. Not really. I wanted to meet the love of my life, get married (tres cliche I know), and have a bunch of kids while maintaining the inner tension of my va jay jay (don't pretend that you've never been worried about that decreasing after childbirth).
I wanted to be settled. Have my house, building towards my old age, achieved all the little things...
Play my guitar properly. Learn the drums, build the bookshelf I've always wanted, achieve that bikini body, RECYCLE!!!
I'm 26, and I haven't done any of it. Is it too late?
Monday, September 21, 2009
Damn you hormones, damn you to heck!
Friday, September 18, 2009
A quick tirade
So this weekend was supposed to be a big girly fest celebrating the day one of my very dear girlfriends, Danny, was born. Unfortunately she has opted to spend it with the boyfriend. So now I and Jewels, my other dear girlfriend, are going to do the girly thing on our own.
But it made me think about all the times women put other people’s needs and wants before their own. Why do we do that? WTF is wrong with us?! I admit I’ve done it too. It’s like having a (in the words of the Almighty Oprah) va jay jay is the underlying cause for being a people-pleasing pushover. I suffered from that complex and was harshly judged by my girlfriends for it, and rightly so. I deserved to me admonished. I had neglected them because I wanted to “nurture my relationship”. What utter BS!
Women start to neglect their friends and interests because they want their man to feel they are there for him and down for whatever he would like to do. Let’s just throw out the window the fact that who you were in the beginning is what got him all hot and bothered in the first place. No, let’s just become what he wants and needs because obviously he is now the alpha and omega of your universe. Right?!
Fuck this shit. I’m going to enjoy myself and not feel as though I’ve been thrown away for a human vibrator. Even though that’s exactly what it feels like.
Thursday, September 17, 2009
Well slip into the velvet glove, And be jaded (Aerosmith)
But lately I’ve felt as though that chapter of my life has closed, the desire to be desired has faded. I mean sure, we all want to be in a stable relationship so we can procreate more effectively right?
See! This is what is wrong with me. This is how I’ve been thinking lately.”I need someone who I can buy a house with, have babies with, save for retirement with.”
I no longer long for romance. I would rather be in a relationship based on mutual respect than fall in love. But then I wonder if I am doing this to myself in some subconsciously messed up way. Am I retreating from my emotions because the disappointment that follows another failed relationship is not worth the effort? Meaning: An accidental brush on my arm won’t give me gooseflesh. That when my eyes meet those of some handsome stranger there will be now butterflies in my tummy. That a first kiss will lose its electricity, a first time will lose its passion.
How fucking sad is that?!
I need a vacation some where warm, with lots of hot, extremely tan men. Where Marcello or Vincenzo is an average name. Know what I mean?
Friday, September 11, 2009
Warning: Friendship zone ahead!
So Sid and I are at work, wasting time (obviously) by chatting up a storm, and somehow the conversation leads to the explanation of “The Friendship Box”. You see, I met a guy a few years ago who I immediately placed in the Friendship box. He was a little perturbed when he tried to ask me out and I was all "But we're friends!"
"How the hell did I become your friend? This is some bullshit. Don't I even have a say?"
I gave Sid the same explanation I gave him, and I thought by blogging about it this could be my good deed for the day.
Well fellas, there is good and bad news. You don’t have to do anything to be placed in the friendship box. Usually, it is completely NOT YOUR FAULT. Don’t let ladies fool you with that “I want someone with a nice personality” bullshit. Women decide within the first 5 seconds if they are going to sleep with you. Yes gentleman, FIVE! Five seconds is all you have. Hence the first 5 seconds can only be based on a physical attraction right? WRONG! I said I would explain, I never promised for it to make sense.
Sometimes it’s how someone has described you, the shirt you are wearing, your cologne, how you shook her hand, whether you said Hi or Hello, and a million other possible reasons that ultimately mean you ain’t hittin’ that. EVER.
Hence, I like to refer to the entrance of the Friendship Zone as the Friendship Trapdoor. Once you have sprung the trapdoor there is a slide that leads down to the Box. Once in the box it is virtually impossible to climb out. And yes, we are well aware that you poor schmucks try to crawl your way out of there. It’s just not happening dude.
However, for a select few (and I’m talking to you hot boy that works in IT) is a Get-Out-of-Friendship-Box Free Card. But what about the 5 second rule, you say? You didn’t read the fine print, did you?
Yes, the first 5 seconds are where she decides if she would or wouldn't, but do not necessarily mean that you are Trapdoor approved. It just means that instead of having to climb up a slide, you might just have some very steep stairs.
I'm sure there are gonna people out there all indignant "the rules are not consistent!"
Hey, I never said this process was fair, or even well thought out. This is the process. Just like the modern day money system, it doesn't need to make logical sense to work.
Thursday, September 3, 2009
Warm daydream on a cold spring morning
She smiled. The peace of the morning was enhanced by the sound of birds, unseen in the thick trees behind her, going about their business. Hurrying to catch the last meal before their prey would disperse from the magnification of the sun’s rays. She had not brushed her teeth, nor done her hair, put on make-up, or even dressed for that matter. The bed sheet that formed her makeshift dress reached out to the waves that lapped pleadingly towards her.
Abandoning her sheet to the wind, she stepped to the water’s edge. Its warmth enveloped her from feet to head as she stepped her naked form into it. Surrounded she surrendered her body to its sway and ebb, allowing herself to drift helplessly in tune with its rhythm.
She felt the warmth of the sun on her face as it broke through the barrier of the clouds, then plunged her head under the water. When she came back up, she laid her body flat on the water’s surface. Let it hold her, support her. Move her.
She smiled.