Stories to consider

So I heard this story but it has to be told in the language I heard it in else some of its fantastic nuances...

Overheard:
Random person: So Dato', I heard you got a woman on the side.
Dato: Ye ke? Siapa kata?
RP: I knowla. You set her up with a place in London.
Dato': Ah, tulah.
RP: Who is she?
Dato: Does it matter?
RP: So how did you meet her?
Dato: Jangan hebohkan ye, kat email!
RP: You met her through email?
Dato: Ya she emailed me. Said she interested in me.
RP: So you started with her through that? How did you know what she was like?
Dato: Kan internet boleh send gambar?
RP: Oh so she sent you photos of herself.
Dato: Ya ya. You wanna know why I started the affair?
RP: Why?
Dato': Kan she sent gambar...I tengok. Wah bes, Tektek BESAR!

And there you have it folks...The reason men choose to have affairs. Mind you, this Dato's wife is a very classy, beautiful woman of substance. But obviously, not with a rack that can compete for her husband's attention....

Translations: 
Dato': Malaysian term for a dignitary position
Ye ke, siapa kata? : Really? Who said?
Tulah: I see.
Jangan hebohkan: Don't spread it around
Gambar: Picture/Photo
Tengok: See/Saw
Wah bes, tektek BESAR: Wow, great! BIG TITS!

Erm..PS.

Thought I'd just say....while I've been congratulating myself and posting about someone who finally makes me happy....the truth is, well, TECHNICALLY...I'm still very much, single.
HAHAHA HOOHOO HEEHEE *maniacal laughter*

I prefer to refer to myself as "Single but Taken"."Mentally Married". "Availably Unavailable"

Although this may seem slightly insane, I assure you I am perfectly, if not a little kooky, sane.

And although this may be a very strange way of finally attaining the impossible, I am actually still very much single and actually the happiest I have ever been as a single.
Let's be honest, when I started this blog, I was pretty angry..incredulous really hence, the vent outlet.
Later on, when I was sort of on my way to being alright, I started to get jealous of girls and went all insane (but funnily I might add) and ranted more.
For the most part, this blog was meant to be an outlet for me and my friends (FSGs) to commiserate. 

Right now though, most of my FSGs are happily loved up (with nice real boys) while others are super busy and don't have time to lament their singledom.

As for me, I'm very happily mentally married (to a real boy of course who just isn't physically here at the moment). A great state of mind to be in when you have great tasks at hand. Like for instance, making money.

The truth is, my infatuations allow me to be so loved up that I no longer have it in me to even despair at my reality of singleness. Which is fine by me and fine by those closest to me. But what I don't understand is, why others can't be happy for me when I am so clearly, finally, the happiest a single girl this side of a blog can be?

He Eats Chocolate Raisins

I think I owe you guys an explanation. Apparently I complain a lot on my blog. Some disgruntled boy seems to think so since he took so much offense to my simply pointing out (in jest of course) that white boys are over. Oh well, basically, this blog IS a place to complain. If you don't complain, there's basically nothing to write about. I find usually the best things to laugh about are the situations that get your panties in a twist. If you're happy, clappy, then you aren't wry or sarky or all that interesting to read.Simple, really.

So I've been neglecting my blog....And the only way I can explain it is, I guess is well, I don't have anything left to complain about....

---------------------------------------------
 A Letter to the Imaginary On Finding The Perfect Man....

Dear You,


I guess there never is a last letter that you write to the someone you've been pegging all your hopes, dreams and whatnots to since you could remember. So this isn't the last of course but it is a departure of sorts. I am writing to you, not to beg you or to lament the absence of you but rather, I write because I want to tell you how glad I am that you, for the time-being, do not need to exist. 


So what happened you ask? You see when I used to write to you, I lived in the fantasy that you may one day materialise into a real life boy. Someone whole and perfect and everything I had made you up to be. I needed to believe that you would save me from whatever it was that I was running from. I needed to believe that you would be there waiting for me. You just had to find me.


But then one day while I was wallowing in self-pity at having come up short of finding anyone that lived up to you...out of nowhere, I found him. 


I found him, just like I thought I would between the black and white. He was standing, quite predictably on the ocean's edge. In him I have found someone who simply makes me want very much to be a better version of myself. In his very existence I have found an immense relief. He is real. He lives and breathes. He has a name. He even has a dog. His voice is his own. He even dreams...big gorgeous dreams of wonderful tangible things. Our worlds, although so very far apart, collide in some places. That very fact, that we collide even on the thinnest string of fate, rejoices me. This is a cliche of the most basic sort but since him, from here on out, I will never be the same. Since him, a part of me will always be whole.

And so I guess, I will have no longer have a need for a figment of my imagination to fill in that gap.

La La La La

Sorry.
This blog has been seriously neglected.
I'll give you a few reasons...
The first being....I've been in love. Yeah. Really. So you can't rant much about being single when you're so blissfully infatuated.
The second being...I've had a break up. Yeah. Really. Same person I was in love with. Still am...
The third being....well the third being....
Fuck. Who cares?

Here you go...my reason or rather reasons for neglecting this blog.

Why White Boys Are Over

 It's official. White boys are over. 

When you live in an Asian country. Surrounded by hot Asian chicks who are mostly gung-ho on bagging themselves some pasty dude, it's time to look for greener pastures. Thank God, I've never been one to shy away from some mixed flavas myself. Teehee.

Why White Boyz are over:
1) Too pasty. (unless they're blessed with skin that tans well and makes them into Golden demiGods...the only Lobsters I wanna deal with are the ones in yummeh seafood restaurants).

2) Too douche-y. (having sniffed around a bunch of wifebeater-wearing, no-lense bespectacled, Fabio-esque 'douchays' last weekend, I decided that douches become UBER-douches when they're surrounded by naive Asian chicks who think they could be the Yokos to the Douche-y  'Oh-Nos')

3) Too stiff. (hurdehur. I mean, as in, white boys generally don't have smooth moves to go with the smooth grooves. I wouldn't go out dancing with a white boy unless of course, he's Wade Robson, Channing Tatum or Justin Timberlake...srsly now).

4) Too boring. (generally white boys tend to get fun only when they're drunk or on drugs. What happened to getting high on life, boyz? Also emo white boys and their emo music...PFFT.Only so much you can take.)

5) Too weak.(White boys in Asian countries? Weak. Can't eat hot curries. Can't smell a Durian. Can't take the boiling heat. Can't go to a squatting loo.Can't bribe the Popo. Can't whack back an angry Aunty...whiny whiny weak. Blech.)

So yeah, white boys are OVER. To all you SPGs (Sarong Party Girls) who are still adamant to taste some Brachwurst in the land of Sushis and Chilli, I wish you well, I wish you luck. For me at least, I'm going to shy away from my 'roots' and sample the delights of the Fusion tables. AK AK.

Sidenote: Saying this, my Mental Husband it has to be said, is undeniably white. So I am a hypocrite of sorts. But then, my mental husband has trekked the North AND South pole, owns basically the world AND has a tan that makes his look like a demi-God. Oh, and he's funny too. So, basically the rules don't apply to him, because he's perfect. Except, maybe, for being white. Hoohoo.

Playa...Puhleasseee!

Most men think we're stupid...or something. I mean, please give us *some* credit. We haven't lived this long, been through as much shit as we have, to be played by you (and in stupid ways too). Seriously. We are trains and not stations. We have places to be, things to do...we aren't your one stop joyride.

A few things Playas need to regonizzzzeee:

#1 >> Asking us to look at the moon at random times.
Playa, puhlease...every guy who wants to come off as sensitive and soulful has asked a girl to look at the moon. And you know what playa, we seen da moon, we've checked da moon, and it's DA SAME every time yo!

#2 >> Asking us to come over and listen to some music he made.
Playa, puhlease...we know this implies lying on his bed and being really impressed by his musical gifts and fine, if he has real talent this works. However, if he makes music that sounds like whale sounds or if he sits around playing the bongos...we're gonna tell it like it is. Byebye.

#3 >> After a night out when the mood is still high and you're not quite sure what next to do, he offers to come take you to a celebrity after party.
Playa, puhlease...It's cool if you want to impress a girl with your popularity and connections but we also know that the *real* after party you mean, is the 'after party at my body'.

#4 >> Pretend to be really concerned and try to help you get back the yoga lessons that you missed but already paid for.
Playa, puhlease...We're all for you being cute and super helpful and the fact that you prob have a hot body from all that yoga....BUT, we also know that you trawl yoga centres looking for fuck buddies. SEEN! eww.

#5 >> Tell you they feel intimidated by you because you're just so smart and they feel small around you.
Playa, puhlease...If you want a girl to feel as if she's smarter and more awesome than you, don't put yourself down because it doesn't make you look soft and in need of saving. It just makes you look wimpy n sad. Also, let it be known, we KNOW we're awesome. 'Nuff said.

Bang 'Em

One morning, I woke up and decided to wipe my slate clean. That is to say, the proverbial man-slate...I decided to give it a good scrub. What happened was...I found THEM:
 

Ladies and gentlemen...
Let me introduce...BIG BANG!
I've lost it. Totally lost it. Lovely K-Bois will be the death of this single girl. Fohshure!! It's so nice to wake up and think of nothing but lovely stalkable K-bois tho. Heehee Hoohoo Haahaa.

My preferences from Fav to Least Fav:
1) TOP
2) G-Dragon
3) Taeyang
4) Seungri

5) Daesung (I've neglected to include a photo of him because a) for some reason Blogger won't let me put him below TOP which is a NONO, and b) he's not cute to me anyway)

TOP!!!

G-DRAGON!

TAEYANG!Holy body moly!

 SEUNGRI aka VI

How I Failed At Being A Manic Pixie Dream Girl (MPDG)

I've been contemplating the MPDG. That's Manic Pixie Dream Girl to you. Who or what is she? Think Zooey Deschanel, think, Natalie Portman, think Holly Golightly. Yes folks, she's that crazy but seriously lovable, impossibly pretty breath of fresh air and bringer of light and hope to all those lovely Lost Boys.

Read more about the MPDG ...HERE

I've been thinking about her a lot. In fact, I've been thinking about her my whole life and I've figured that my whole life has led up to my failing at being the MPDG.

How I failed at becoming an MPDG...a step by step analysis:

STEP 1: I was ugly. I didn't start off being this impossibly pretty thing (well actually I did, I was a really pretty child if I do say so myself) but then braces, bad eyesight and a butch haircut happened. Also, there was a brief period where I did actually look like an old Chinese/Bhutanese peasant lady complete with permed frizz, scarf wrapped around my face and really pale reddish skin. Not good to the ego and certainly not good to be made acutely aware of your ugliness when you are supposed to be an unaffectedly beautiful MPDG. 

STEP 2: I got emo. When I sorted my 'petty pretty' troubles out (ie. straightened hair, learned the use of eye makeup & contact lenses), I decided to revamp myself into being a Grunge/Goth Chick and got all existential and emo and decided to stay indoors writing my own eulogies. 

STEP 3: I got too dreamy. I actually got really cool at one point and pretty much as close to a MPDG as I possibly could. I lived for nothing in a really cool really posh apartment with a big cat, I partied in all the cool places, I was quite artsy and frequented little record stores, went out with a DJ boy, I even had a cool hobby like writing poetry about people I saw on trains. Yeah! But...being so cool, I started to believe I was a MPDG a little bit TOO MUCH. To the point, I became so oblivious to the real world and decided that I was in fact a character in a film. In other words, the dream girl started to live IN the dream...not good.

STEP 4: I got busy. See, what happened was, I got a job. It was an impossibly cool one at that, but the thing about really cool jobs? You actually have to work to keep 'em. So I started to wake up from the dream and get practical. I didn't have much time to be flighty and carefree and was too tired to be manic.

STEP 5: I met a boy. Then obviously, I had to meet the Dream Boy. Oh you know, that boy lost girls dream about. Tall, beardy, funny, rode a bicycle, read books and played the guitar. So I became the boring girl who had the Dream Boy breath life into my boring life. Figures.

STEP 6: I got angry. Yeah, MPDGs are happy, fun loving people. I on the other hand, wanted very much to put my fist through a wall at any given moment. MPDG + Anger management issues = Plain ol' crazy bitch. 

STEP 7: I got real. Decidedly, I sort of realised that I couldn't ever compete with an MPDG nor could I be one. So I decided that if I couldn't be any boy's dream girl, then I had to be my own dream girl. As in, I'd take steps to becoming the sort of girl I dreamt about becoming. And I realised that that girl, wasn't some flighty, manic ingenue...she was someone who wanted very much to do more with her life. A girl with a plan. A girl who actually helped the people that needed help... So I worked and am working on becoming that instead.

And there you have it. How I failed at being the Manic Pixie Dream Girl. Failing though, made me realise I didn't want to be some sad writer boy's fantasy. I wanted to be my own dream girl. The girl who lives her OWN dreams, becomes somebody SHE wants to be.

So to all you fabulous women who have failed at being an MPDG or are in competition with one, don't you worry. You can be a dream girl. It just depends on whose dreams you want to live/be. And hey, being a Real Girl just means you've got more chances with REAL Men. Heehee. ;)

Russian Doll Situations

It's all very well to have an imaginary husband but you know, imaginary marriages do come with their own set of issues. Here are some of the issues that one encounters with an imaginary hubby.

>> People are always assuming that you are single.

>> Setting aside actual time to spend with your husband and having to justify spending a Friday night in being antisocial.

>> You can't bite his buns.

>> Conversations with him make you look like a crazy person.

>> Imaginary distractions such as pale, blonde, 1000 year old sex on legs vampires and scandalous sexy indie band frontmen.

>> You don't get to spend much time with your imaginary children.

>> Rogue unicorns.

The Unicorn Under Your Bed

I was reading a tranny's blog when I found myself suddenly in a flutter of panic. This 'tranny' (who isn't really a tranny but a real girl who, try as I might can't be convinced ISN'T one) was getting more action than I'd ever seen this side of the Old Mother Hubbard cupboard.

Pages and pages went on about her past relationships and her potential conquests and knowing that these aren't particular gnomes or trolls of men got me wondering, wow, what does this tranny have that I don't have...subsequently, I thought to myself, OMG, Has it finally come to this? Am I, the last happy single girl, so desperate that I am in competition with a tranny?

To gather my wits about me, I started to make a list of why I am more awesome than this 'tranny'..Call it the Perfect Girl List. I suggest anyone who finds themselves feeling down and feeling jealous of either zit infested sluts, overweight hobags or well, ambiguous She-men, should make their own Perfect Girl list.

Happsgirl's Perfect Girl List:
(alternatively: Reasons I Am Perfect and A Billion Zillion Times More Awesome Than A Tranny List)

1) People don't generally get a fright when they see my face.
2) I have class. This is because I was not raised a hobag and I haven't been caught sucking someone's balls in the toilet of a really seedy club somewhere along a highway (a story that I KNOW is true for some). 
3) I am pretty smart and I don't pretend to be smart. I always own up when I don't know what the hell people are talking about.
4) I know who I am. None of this I'm lost and need to be saved business unless of course, you're Eric Northman and you need to protect me from your big 'bad' sexy self. Teeheeheehee.
5) Literatti Glitteratti.
6) I can be quite funny. Like, some people have told me I can be TOO funny. Yah yah, like I can talk about farting quite a lot.
 7) I am happy. As in it takes quite little to make me laugh. Like, for instance, 'HERE'S A PUG!'...and I start laughing. See? Easy.
8) I am not precious. I am perfectly capable of cleaning toilets and ironing my own clothes.I don't whine a lot. This is because I was raised by a mother who told me there is nothing tackier than a woman who doesn't wash her own underwear.
9) I like what I do. My job inspires me and I like to think I inspire other people. I secretly also think my job validates me as being better than most people. HAHA.
10) And this is very important, I am better than a 'tranny' because...I do not hide unicorns under my bed.

Disclaimer: This post is not intended to be derogatory to any real trans-gender women. The term 'tranny' here is simply being used as a derogatory term for women I have little respect for. I think real trans-gender women are a lot more awesome than the type of women I brand 'trannies' and for whom I originally intended this list for. 

On Love.

Let me tell you something. Up until not so many years ago, I didn't know what Love was. I couldn't say I knew what it was because, I really wasn't sure. I had not felt it, and I was pretty sure I did not receive it. I didn't witness Love. I thought, maybe Love was just something that happened in fairytales. That Love which makes the world go round, where was it? WHAT was it? I didn't know.

Then one day, I experienced grief. The sort of grief that makes you feel as if you would give up your own life just to make sure someone else got to experience the stuff they missed out on. Grief that makes you realise how fragile your universe is and how much you were willing to give up in the place of someone else. Knowing just how much you're willing to give up was the first component of love I learnt.

Later on, I experienced loss. Not the kind of loss that makes you grieve but the kind of loss that makes you always search for something because you'll never feel quite complete again. When you lose something that made you feel complete, you realise that the thing that made you whole was also a component that made you love.

Later on still, I experienced disappointment and regret which led to disarray. Feeling as if your whole world is crumbling makes you hold on to the things that matter most. I realised from this, Love doesn't always have to apply to the things you thought it applied to. Love was bigger than that.

Recently, I experienced loss again. It is strange to lose someone you thought never loved you. Never figured in your life much. Was always thought of with resentment. Someone whom you were told you should love but whom you couldn't love because you didn't quite know how to. Someone you didn't know how to love because you weren't sure they even wanted your love.

Then one day, that person is gone. Just like that. And you go through the motions of trying to grieve, to mourn, cry a little but you can't because you're still unsure if you love or were loved at all. All there is, is space and you don't really know what to do with that space.

But then it hits you. When you're standing in a room of people who were never quite sure if they were ever loved by this one person and yet there they were, filling up the room and filling up the space, when you watch them mourn something they're not even sure about...it hits you.

It's about filling the sudden space that gets left behind. It is understanding, that after all the wrongs done unto you, that you're still here, and they aren't and that your life is yours and in order to leave something behind, you must be good and kind and grateful to those who make you up. You must Love. Because it is the only thing worthwhile that you can leave behind.

And so I think, after all this, I finally found out what Love is. Love isn't about writing it down or saying it. Love isn't about expression. Love isn't even about feeling tingly or having people in your thoughts. Real Love, the Love that transcends everything else and makes your time on earth worthwhile, that Love...is a verb that fills up space.

On How It Was Supposed To Be & Thereafter

Well, it's been freakin' 27 years and the way I reckon it should be hasn't happened. The way I thought it worked was, you grow up, you make friends and then one day, some really nice, decent, intelligent person bumps into you on a street and you realise that your whole life led up to him anyway. He'd get you, you'd get him, you'd have fun together, and one day, he'd ask you to marry him. 

 

You buy a house, you have children with him and your life would entail seeing your children grow up, making sure they become good people, having a laugh with him and growing old together. You'd start bickering and fighting of course, you'd even resent him sometimes and need your time outs from each other...you'd seek comfort in your work and your friends. But at the end of the day, you and he have built a home together, the two of you would be what your children see as 'home'. At the end of the day, you'd see him through to the end and so will he. That's how it's supposed to be. It's how I've been raised to believe it will be.

You're supposed to have one big love. Well, at least, I am. And I'm supposed to have met him by now. It was in the plan. I was supposed to know when I met him.

But then I met you. And you were kind and decent, smart, you made me laugh and, you were my friend. And I thought, this would be easy...if I knew, then you'd know too. We'd know that our lives led up to one another. We were supposed to fall in love. Have a laugh together. And one day, you would've married me and there was this bright beautiful future that we were supposed to have together. Yeah, that would've been nice.

Anyway, you didn't love me back. You couldn't. Why? Your life didn't lead you up to me. It wasn't fated. It was simple. How I knew was that when you looked into my eyes, you looked past me. At someone else, who would be waiting for you. You didn't love me. It was simple and cruel of course. How could the person I was meant to be with not love me?  I wasn't prepared for that. It was supposed to be easy.

So what now? It's been awhile...I ran away when I knew fate had dealt me a cruel hand. My gripe is, I didn't even believe in The One. I thought there'd be a few...THREE at least! But since you, I've been waiting around. I've been waiting for someone whom my life really led up to. But yet another night of waiting around ensues and I've lost what little hope I had left in me to keep waiting. So I don't hope anymore. And I try not to be bitter because of you. I try to imagine you happy and I try to be the bigger person to be happy for you. And sometimes, when I hear or see you laugh, I genuinely can be happy for you.

And to answer the question of how you get over the one person whom you thought would finally make you whole? Well, you don't really. You never really get over that person. But what you can do is move past them. There's a sort of joyous numb you feel when you wake up one day and they aren't the first thing you think about. It takes time of course, it takes other people too. People who act as distractions. People who make you happy in other ways. A pet maybe.A dog you love so unconditionally and irrevocably because she loves you unquestionably and makes you laugh again.

You work toward becoming the person you want to be. You travel and you watch the way the world works. You wish happiness on others. You live out of yourself because the person inside has been so sad it's best if you kept her away for awhile. But you live. You be free. You start to breath again. And after awhile, you're sort of okay.

But that's just me. I've stopped waiting. He will come if he's meant to come along...that next person. And if not, I think it's okay to be the way that I am. I am less whole, less hopeful, less of what I thought I would be, but I am also here. And that's something you know, that I'm still here.

Matchmaking the Mommy Way

Desperate times call for desperate measures. In the news recently, I was alerted to a desperate mother who in an attempt to marry her single son off, has created a website especially to find a suitable mate for her beloved offspring.

Read about it HERE

All I can say is, Kudos to the dude for letting his Mom handle his singledom so amicably. It got me thinking about whether it's about time all of us go to Mummy dearest for a bit of help. If you think about it, mothers are probably the best people to help you out of your single situation.

Why we should consider Mama Mia to help us get hitched:

1>>Moms know what's best for you even when you don't know it yourself.


2>>Mothers are usually spot on and are hardly ever wrong.


3>>Mothers know you inside out and can probably gauge the best person for you.


4>> Moms are uncannily good judges of character.


5>>Moms can tell the bad seeds to fuck off. 

I read this true story about this man whose Mom wanted him to get married and asked him "So what kind of girl are you looking for?"...The man was watching TV and a popular actress was on screen, so he casually pointed at the TV and said "Someone like her would be good." So the Mom nodded and went off. A few days later, the Mom told the son, "I've set you up on a blind date, you must go." So the man went on the blind date and when he reached the restaurant, what did he find? The very same actress he'd pointed at sitting at the table. The Mom had actually set him up with the actress herself, not some chick who looked or acted like her. And what happened? He ended up proposing to the actress after just a couple of months of dating and they've been happily married for the last 15 years.

Moral of the story: When your Mom asks you what sort of partner you're looking for, make sure someone good is on TV.

Poh-Dah!

I learned a new fantastic Indian term the other day while negotiating traffic with some fabulous Indian women...

'Poh-dah!'  - which basically means, 'WTF? GET LOST!'

It's such an awesome term. Especially...well, when men use THIS (see image below) to hit on you:

I've heard of creative pick ups but when you write "Wanna go for a date, I am single, shy (so the note)....if so, if you're keen (phone number)"...on a crumpled napkin, and then stand in front of your 'victim' while reciting your entire dating CV which includes the line "Do you like sweet things? Coz I'm a pastry chef"...it's time to say....
You got it...

Poh-Dah! 

For the Desert Princess

From today onwards, I will be losing yet another fellow single girl. There is need though, to rejoice this fact, for today, my very beautiful and brave friend will be getting married.

Although it kills me that I can't be there in person, I take comfort in the fact that at the very least I can dedicate a post to her.

For her I want to wish all the love and happiness in the world. I can think of no one better to deserve all this.

And I also want to say this to you, whoever or wherever you are, the reader...if you're single and losing hope, then it is very important that you know this...you should never stop believing that you deserve love.

Because here is one of my best friends, who is getting married not the first, but for the second time. If you asked me, it is because she never really stopped believing in the happiness that she deserved. She is not afraid of taking the leap...toward commitment, toward faith and toward love. For this, I stand in full admiration of her.

From her I have learnt that love is something that comes to you, only if you truly believe that you deserve it. From her I have also learnt that Love will come to you if you love yourself. My dear friend, who has seen me through my single years has always been the first person to encourage me toward looking for and accepting love. I am thankful I have, after all these sad attempts, someone who still believes so greatly that I deserve this great love that I don't always believe I will ever find. Through her finding it, perhaps, my faith grows.

So tonight, as this fabulous friend gets married (again!) I want to congratulate her for being so brave and for believing and teaching me to believe too. I wish her happiness, I wish her prosperity, I wish her passion, I wish her contentment and above all, I wish for her all the intense, great, insatiable love that she really, truly deserves.

A Tranny or a Queen to Quell Your Crush

So ever since falling in love with the Perfect Man, I've completely neglected to blink or look at real men. This is not good. In an attempt to bring me out of the fantasy (whereby me and Perfect Man are married and sailing on the ocean) and back into reality (whereby the hottest man I've seen lately is on a Calvin Klein poster in a mall) I've decided to post a post to all the *real* and rather memorable crushes I've had in the past...

1st Crush: Bro's Friend (age: 13) (as in my age when I had the crush)
Reason for crush: He looked good in black and wire rimmed glasses.
Reasons for canceling crush: He turned out to be gay. (The fact my 1st ever crush was gay should've pre-empted me for things to come)

2nd Crush: Ryan Kim (age: 17)
Reason for crush: He was Korean and looked like he could grow up to be an architect.
Reasons for cancelling crush: His head was too small for his body, he turned out to be err, stupid.

3rd Crush: Nishan (age:17)
Reason for crush: He was hottest dude in college. His name was sexy. He had a really nice neck.
Reasons for cancelling crush: He left college. I couldn't stalk him. Last I heard, he married a friend's cousin and he's gone fat.

4th Crush: Chris (age:18)
Reason for crush: He had a nice voice. He had a nice face. He had a nice body. He had a nice everything. Plus he was nice to me.
Reasons for cancelling crush: He had REALLY bad taste in women (ie. not fancying me and fancying a girl who apparently *leaked* oil from her arse(TRUE STORY! ), and I became hotter and cooler (TRUE STORY TOO). 

5th Crush: Jamie Red Hair (age: 19)
Reason for crush: He had a really really cool dye job. His hair was jet black with striking red at the tips. He also wore an army parka and read literature. He reminded me of a vampire. I was really into Buffy at that point.
Reasons for cancelling crush: He disappeared. *POUT* One semester he was there, the next he wasn't. Maybe he *WAS* a vampire. :(

6th Crush: Mike USA (age:20)
Reason for crush: In a sea of stiff Brit boys, here was a tanned Californian who snowboarded. Also, he loved the 20th century American writers. He also made me laugh on a bus ride. *SCORE*
Reasons for cancelling crush: He went on to date an ugly looking hobag ho bitch. He went back to California and probably got some acne infested fat American girl pregnant. (I'm still bitter about this one, can u tell?)

7th Crush: Eddie Hall aka Paul Frank Beanie(age: 22)
Reason for crush: He used to hang around outside my room window wearing a lot of Paul Frank clothing. I really like the Paul Frank brand. He was hot because he wore Paul Frank. He also looked and sounded aristocratic.
Reasons for cancelling crush:  Saw him snogging the HOBAGS OF THE CENTURY who was also my dorm neighbour. He also disappeared.

8th Crush: Ridic (age: 23)
Reason for crush: He's a prince. He has a nice voice. He has *twat* factor.
Reason for cancelling crush: Found out he was a certified asshole.

----------------------------------

Word of advice: It is better to have a slut try and steal your crush than to have a tranny try and steal your crush. But worst of all is to have a slutty tranny get into competition with you. TRUE STORY.

Papa Don't Preach

So yesterday, in case you didn't know, was Father's Day. We were hit with a barrage of public service announcements on how we should go up to our Dads and thank him, for whatever it is he has done for us, for the sake of love and for being well, our fathers. Following that, I found many a disgruntled woman who decided that they didn't have much to be thankful for when it came to their Dads. It got me thinking, when it comes to our relationships or future relationships with men, are we all ruled by the relationship we have with that first man in our lives? Are our fathers the fore-bearers of all our man-related problems? And after all these years of wisdom and soul searching, I wonder, isn't it time we give Daddy a break?

I might be talking outta my arse here if you've ever had a father who's abused or mistreated or has never met you, but as for us who have fathers who didn't do any of the above I'd like to advocate that if we at any time decided that our singledom or our misguided relationships stemmed from our father-daughter relationships and blame our Dads for it, it's time for us to stop pointing fingers and try at least give our Dads a chance.

Okay, so I'm lucky enough to be one of those rare people whose parents are still together which means I see my father often and he is by all necessary means, a good Dad. Still, I'd be lying if I said that my father-daughter relationship has been a great one. I am part of the millions of women who grow up not really being able to talk to their father and vice versa. He is of the that era of men who don't seem to think that building a communicative relationship with their children is of much importance.

I have also been angry at my father for most of my life, albeit if you ask me, I can't really say why other than perhaps, he is a difficult man to 'handle'. My father is also not one of those men who bend backwards to the whims and fancies of their beloved daughters. Though I am his only daughter, I have never felt like a Daddy's Girl. My father is strict and is not prone to showing or revealing his affections. I have never hugged my father nor has my father ever said that he loved or even liked me.

Still, after years of trying to understand my father and at the same time, trying to get him to understand me, I've decided that we should give each other a break. When you think about it, the relationship between a father and a daughter is one that contains the most levels of understanding to break through. A grown man and a little girl - there is virtually nothing that they have in common. Yet, they are expected to suddenly form this intense, unbreakable bond. Fathers don't have 9 months of pregnancy to form a bond from birth. They are virtually introduced to this baby one day and expected to look after this girl till she grows into a woman and all her life, he is expected to provide for her. Generally, men don't have nurturing instincts...what if they don't like the baby or the little girl that has suddenly come into their lives? What if they feel disconnected from them? What if they generally just don't really make friends with women? How do they cope with this one woman who suddenly expects them to provide the world? Somehow, we expect our fathers to love us despite all this, and they should but sometimes, I can't help but feel that we should cut them some slack.

There ARE things we can be thankful to our fathers for. Personally, I am glad my Dad never beat me (my Mom wielded the cane). I am also grateful to my Dad for passing me his love of books (if he had not stepped in when I was 14 and on a trashy romance novel binge and handed me instead The End of the Affair by Graham Greene, I think things might've turned out badly). The other thing I suspect I can be happy about is that all this time, my own father has cut ME some slack. As much as I'd like to think of myself as this golden child who grew up to be this fabulously perfect woman...I know I was and can be a nightmare. Who carried me between the ages of 2-4 when I refused to walk? Who gave me money when I sent begging letters after shopping binges in Paris? (ok, he didn't know about Paris and my begging strategy was to include subtly the line 'I don't feel like living anymore' for added effect- haha!) Who made me Milo every day when I used to be a bitch about the temperature? Ah yes, the list is long when it comes to the amount of slack he has had to cut me.

So in this post Father's Day post, whereby I didn't bother wishing my own Dad a Happy Father's Day (oh, because I had a fight with him like a month back and I'm trying to prove a point...hawhaw)(More slack cutting on his part there!) I am instead going to honour my father by cutting him the slack he deserves and imploring all my fellow single girls out there who blame their fathers for any number of reasons for their general failures (with men or otherwise) to try at least to start looking on the bright side and stop being angry with them. I know, I know, your father might have left you to fend for yourself, your father might have only said 2 words to you in the last 5 years, your father might not have liked your last boyfriend or your father might not have wanted to give you the crucial support you needed but for all our sakes, let it go. Even if it's just in your head, let it go.

If we don't start to mend (literally or mentally) this first relationship with the first man in our lives, what hope do we have of starting and building subsequent relationships with all the next men out there?

They Might Say Hi, I Might Say Hey

When you've lost all hope of finding a decent member of the male species in the shores surrounding you, you find yourself resorting to strange desperate behaviour...such as:

>> After watching an Indon music video in a restaurant and noticing the lead singer is crazily hot, you start Youtubing his rumoured sex videos and watch, with mouth agape.

>> Whilst walking around the mall, you notice a hot guy smiling at you and start making eye contact and flirting...only to realise, he's the model in a Calvin Klein ad poster.

>> You have to stop yourself from talking about your Mental Husband like he's your actual husband and literally inviting people to your Mental Wedding like it's your actual wedding.

>> Actually consider inviting a hot 22 year old Himbo you've never met before to your home for some no strings attached fun.

>> Start watching old Boyzone videos and wonder if Ronan Keating is still the slut he was rumoured to be back when he was your 'husband' and consider propositioning him.

>> Think seriously about making a life size standing banner of Eric Northman/Alexander Skaarsgard for your room.

Just You, Me and the Polar Bears

Right, I'm in a letter writing mood these days. So here goes...

Dear Boyzzz,


The thing is, I'm not particularly cool.  I don't go out much. I don't smoke (well, not really, as in, I don't buy cigarettes and I don't inhale), I can't drink (this is not a choice, I would very much LOVE to have a glass of red wine at dinner or get completely pissed and dance the night away but, I'm allergic and unless you want to spend the rest of the night watching me scratch red hives that appear on my body or hold my hair back, me + drinking is no fun), and..I'm pretty crap at flirting (I turn into a deaf-mute in the face of ppl I'm attracted to). 


Are you still with me? Another thing, I'm not particularly hot which makes me not particularly popular. I used to wear scrunchies (The SHAME), I'm quite short (I have big thighs and chunky ankles), and sadly, my 'girls' (that's boobies to u) aren't exactly voluptuous. Boohoohoo. My hair is messy but like, crazy messy not Serena Van Der Woodsen hot messy and I hunch sometimes although I'm trying to sort that out (Yogilates!). I'm also not bothered enough to wear contacts so you'll have to deal with a speccy girl most of the time.


But what I can offer is this: I will write you your dreams. I can create an entire universe just for you and make you live forever. I can also make you laugh and I will always dance when you want to. I will hold your hand when you least expect it and I do genuinely want to save the world a little bit. But probably most importantly,what I can offer you is this: you will be the only one.


Oh, right, and women in my family age well so bonus there! Woohoo! I'll age gracefully by your side.


If you can handle all this, then find me already. Please. 


Yours truly,
Happsgirl

Letter To My Younger Self

Dear 19 year old Happsgirl,

If you're doing what I think you're doing right now, I'd like to ask you to STOP right there.

I know you've just picked up the pen and started another 'Dear Someone' letter and started dreaming about everything he is and could be. I know you're making someone perfect up. Someone you're almost entirely sure you'd meet. You've started imagining the fated meeting and the happy ending. I KNOW you're doing this...so PLEASE just stop! I'm here to tell you a few things you might not want to hear but I swear, you'll thank me when you meet me (eventually).

First of all, you need to stop making up the perfect man. I know you imagine him strange, beautiful, kind and with eyes that see you whole. You imagine him to drift on an ocean and find you standing on an island. He will find you, he will see you and he will be impossibly beautiful. Yes, I know what you're already making him out to be. So stop crafting out this imaginary fantastic character right this minute. The more you imagine him, the more impossible he will become.

If you keep this up, you'll end up looking past every single fantastic boy that crosses your path. You'll pick at their flaws. Realise they aren't that imaginary boy and you'll lose them, one by one. That is a sad truth. This is only for your own protection because one day you might very well meet the boy who lives up to the ideal and it will floor you and if you lose him (that is not to say you won't hold on to him) but IF and IF you lose him, you will break. And that will waste a lot of time.

Another thing you need to stop thinking is that in 5 or 10 or 20 years time, you won't be alone. I know, it's a horrible thought. My GOD, how cruel. Not to be getting married at 29 or have kids by 39 or watching your children graduate by 49. But listen carefully, it is VERY possible that you might end up alone. BUT and this is very important...it's going to be OKAY. I'm here to tell you that being alone, is not so bad...if you're prepared for it of course, and this is why I write.


My dear younger self, I wish someone had told me at 19 that Fate might have it so that you may never meet that perfect someone. He may not turn up and hold your hand and pick you up from the rubble. Being alone is a reality and we need to prepare ourselves for it. Start to work on feeling complete all by yourself, don't wait around for that perfect stranger to fill in the empty spaces, be strong, be free and most importantly, be your own woman.


There will be dreams to chase, places to see and plenty of people to care about. You will find yourself happy on many occassions but sadness will be inevitable. The key thing here is, don't wait. Don't waste your time hanging around waiting for the perfect man to show up and save you from whatever it is you're running from. Face your fears, conquer your battles and live not expecting someone to make you happy. Don't be afraid to leap when the opportunity knocks either, find love and give love freely. Don't let those great fun experiences pass you by.

I swear, if someone wrote me a letter like this one when I was your age, it might've saved me a lot of time. But I am here, now, and I look forward to meeting my older self. She might have some good advice...:)

xoxo Current Happsgirl

Good (or very Bad) Advice...

On receiving a rather big compliment from a rather cute person...I was in the midst of trying to reply a rather nice email when I got stuck. I needed help...so I decided to ask the only readily available person....Pfoooshhh.

Happsgirl: I dunno what to send.

Male Consultant: The question is, is he hot.

Happsgirl: Not bad.

Male Consultant: Then just send it already.

Happsgirl: Yeah, but send WHAT?


Male Consultant: Send the invite...

Happsgirl: What invite?

Male Consultant: To the party!

Happsgirl: ....What party?

Male Consultant: The Par-tay!!

Happsgirl: What PARTY??

Male Consultant: The party...in your PANTS!

Happsgirl: Lord give me strength...

Compatibility = 48%

I've coined a new term. I am 'mentally married'. That is to say, I am taken. Not like, in real life obviously. But like, in my head, I am no longer available. Tis the folly of finally finding the perfect man. No, I don't mean sort of, kind of, he's a nice guy kinda perfect. I mean, REALLY perfect. As in on a scale of 1-10, 10 being the best of the best, he's a 12 kind of perfect. I mean, checking all the right boxes and then some sort of perfect. Yeah, I actually found him. No, really. HALLELUJAH praise the heavens! He exists! Yes, ladies and gentleman, I am taken. By the perfect man.

How to be 'mentally married' 101:

- Find the Perfect Man (Not an easy feat but achievable)

- Forget that there were any other men before him. (Former Love of Life types are chucked aside like shrubs in a stampede)

- Make sure you convince everyone you are taken.

- When people ask 'Why him?'...give them The List (that is to say, all the points that add up to making him a 12)

- If you are swayed by any other person quickly match them up against the Perfect Man, their shortcomings will make you stay faithful to your Perfect Man.

- Accept that his awesomeness negates the need for his physical presence.

I think I've found the answer to being a truly happy single girl. Get 'mentally married'. Once you are, you'll find that being single isn't actually that difficult.

Twitter Stalking 101

Twitter is evil. It makes you believe that if you follow someone, you might actually be one degree closer to them. Here's how to get the object of your affection to notice you should he have oh, more than 1000 followers.

1) Re-tweet every one of his tweets.Time is of the essence, the faster you retweet, the more chances he might notice your efficiency. Heehee.

2) Mention him in most of your inane tweets (ie. Today I'm going to listen to Jamiroquai..which reminds me of @HotGuy)

3) Reply his tweets if he asks a question, even if you dunno what the hell he's on about.(ie. HotGuy tweets: Hey, anyone know where the gig is on tonight?? You reply: @HotGuy Yah man, it's just down the road, you going?)

4) Follow all the people he follows.

5) Click on any link he posts and start commenting on the tweetphotos or videos he's posted.

Even if your man has 1 million followers, he might start to notice you if you adhere to these 5 simple steps. Let me know if it works!

How To Tell You're On A Bad Date

SAD (Single Assholic Dude) : So shall we go back to my place?

FSG (Fellow Single Girl): Okay.

SAD & FSG go to SAD's house.

SAD: So let's just stay in the living room for awhile.

FSG: Ok, can I get a drink? Shall I put on some music?

*SAD goes to make FSG a drink and FSG turns on the music

SAD: Hey, don't put on the music so loud, my Mom is sleeping.

FSG: Ok, then let's just go to your room and listen to the music.

SAD: Oh cannot, that's where my Mom is sleeping.

FSG: Your Mom is sleeping in your room?

SAD: Yah, my Mom sleeps with me.

FSG: But why?

SAD: Cheaper what. We only use one aircond.

*FSG runs home.
*SAD shrugs and goes to sleep with his mom.

NOTE: SAD is a professional in his 30s...his Mom is neither sick or immobile or needs constant care.

How Do You Do Your Eyes?

Having met an incredibly sophisticated gay man last weekend, I am now nursing a ghey crush on some fabulously ghey gay men. Sometimes I wish I was a gay man...It would be fun. I'd get a lot more action. Yeah.

Ghey Gay Men I'd Do If I Were A Ghey Gay Man:

Adam Lambert
Why? Sex appeal. Check. Tons of eye liner. Check. Husky voice. Check. Tight leather trousers. Check.
I get the feeling Adam might be the kinda guy you can go out with and be the best of your worst self with. Heh. Naughty naughty.

Marc Jacobs
Why? Oh how do I count the ways in which I love Marc-y Marc?? How can you NOT love someone who is gorgeous, funny, smart, fun AND can make you beautiful beautiful garments? He is a wet dream to anybody with a sense of style. I heart Marc. I would want to slip him on any day...or night.

Brian Molko
Why?Yes, if I were a gay man, I would definitely be the big burly butch to this lovely little lamb/girl. Brian Molko who's voice makes slitting your wrist seem cool ('Carved your name into my arm, instead of stressed, I lie here charmed') and who isn't afraid to be strange and slightly obnoxious at a mere 5'4. He is like a drug you would like to try. Mmmm. 

Kyan Douglas  (from Queer Eye For The Straight Guy)
Why?I LOVE YOU KYAN!!! If I were an emotional gay man I would cry at the sight of lovely Kyan. Oh thee of beautiful hair and flawless teeth...Kyan is the kind of boyfriend any gay man (or woman for that matter) would want. He's polite, quiet, has a great smile, caring and above all, is superbly groomed. Love love love.

Worthy mentions:


Wentworth Miller
Grumble grumble. The love of my life, why do I have to be a gay man to love you? Grumble Grumble.


Wang Lee-Hom
Apparently you're not gay. But I think you are. But if you're not, heaven and earth rejoice.

6 Impossible Things B4 Breakfast

The Single Girl's 6 Impossible Things:

1) That there will come a point where you don't care anymore.


2) That all men will eradicate the Asshole Gene.


3) That people will stop questioning our singledom.


4) That over-loved up couples will cease to annoy us.

5) That we will stop questioning our physical attractiveness.


6) That the Perfect Man exists.

Askew Me Please

Ever get that feeling of being SO DAMN FED UP with waiting for a nice bloke to just come up to you and ask you out? Here are some tried and tested ways to strike up a conversation with someone who has caught your attention.

1) 'Nice hair. You're straight, right?' (Caution: this has to be done with extreme flirty flair. Don't come across as a scary butch lesbian who may be into pretty boys. Make sure it looks like a compliment and not an insult).
If the boy answers 'No, does it make me look gay?' Follow up with something slightly insulting but flirty at the same time. If the boy answers 'Yeah, I am'...then follow up with something fag-haggy like 'Then darling, you have to give me the name of your stylist.'

2) 'Hi, you're hot. Do you wanna be in my photo shoot?' (Caution: Only do this if you have the credentials to back up your lie, or if you really DO want him to be in a photo shoot).

3) 'Our friends seem to be hitting it off. Shall we watch?' (Caution: Make sure your friend really is hitting it off with his friend. Also don't come across as a pervy ho trying to get in on some threesome action. More so, don't get so engrossed in watching you forget who you're concentrating on)

4) 'Scuse me, I don't know you' (Caution: This is best done at your own house party, or at least, at a house party where you can pretend to be the hostess...alternatively, if you've got enough panache, you can do this anywhere)

5) 'Me and my friend made a bet that you can't carry me' (Caution: Only do this with someone who looks like he can lift you like a feather. Please don't challenge someone who looks like he might have a hernia if you jumped into his arms)

6) Some loser is trying to hit on me. Can you pretend to be my boyfriend for awhile? (Caution: Please make sure he is NOT taken and available to play boyfriend duties...)

Have you tried an alternative pick up and it worked? Tell me about it! Us single girls could use all the tips we can get!!!

I Hate Hello Kitty

Let's face it...We're not spoilt for choice. Men out there are either taken, gay, crazy, assholic, players... or dead. Men our age...as in men in the 25-35 age bracket who aren't any of the previously listed things, who are single, available, cute, nice and decent? Hah! Have you met one? Do you know him? If you do...can you give him my number?

Why must we restrict ourselves to this mad notion that we should date within age check boxes? If you're in the 25-30 check box, most probably, your ideal man is in the same check box or the one directly after it. If we happen to be dating out of those check boxes ie. the 35-40 or the 20-25 boxes, it wasn't really by choice, we happened to meet just a great guy who was a little older or younger than us. But rest assured, when we dream about our dream guy, he's usually, probably, a check box not far from ours.

Like it or not, age is a deciding factor when it comes to choosing partners. But I think we're being too restrictive on ourselves here. Why SHOULD age be a factor when all things considered, it's probably the least important of factors? Sure, with age comes maturity but so does knowledge and upbringing.

I say this because, you know, with all this talk of cougars, we're all becoming slightly afraid of dating out of our age bracket. And believe it or not, this dilemma is all the more tragic for us, 20-something almost 30 types. I kid you not. Why? Well, for one, we're too bloody old to be the hot young nubile thing. And then we're slightly too green to be that sophisticated, confident Mrs. Robinson. So where do we stand? We're bound to the men who are in our age brackets simply because men out of our age bracket don't see us.

I'd like to advocate for the Hello Kitty version of a cougar (ie. cougars below age 35). There isn't even a term for us. We're just considered former party girls grasping on to the last vestibules of their wild days before morphing into the fantastic over-35-year-olds when we won't give a shit about what people think.

It's a strange crossroads to be the under-35 cougar. I mean, for one thing, men over 10 years our junior are hardly out of high school adding to the taboo of the situation. And for another, we're hardly mature enough ourselves to be considered bonafide cougars. So where do we stand? Are we ALLOWED even to date those lovely young boys that tempt our hearts?

I say YES. Young boys are just...tempting. And, well, better. (Men our age are few and far between and men older are, well, kinda dirty.) And for want of another reason other than all the generic 'younger men rock' reasons...Consider (being this age) to be your last chance to go out with a young boy and still pass for his girlfriend instead of being mistaken for his err...mother.

This is my theory: I think we should celebrate the fact that at least, we're still at an age where we are not held accountable for wearing hot pants (although, in my opinion EVERYONE who isn't Kylie Minogue should be held accountable for wearing hot pants) or sporting Hello Kitty t-shirts. We're sort of at that border of being forgiven for it. (Although I personally, wouldn't forgive myself for sporting either). So if we can be forgiven for wearing hot pants and Hello Kitty t-shirts, we can be forgiven for dating delectable 20 year olds.

So go on, now's your chance to date out of your check box. Hell, date WAY below your check box. It may be your last chance to still be able to wear Hello Kitty and be a proud, sexy cat...

Dreams Obscene

5 Reasons Why Eric Northman is the perfect fantasy:

1) He's 6'5, blonde, muscular and Nordic.

2) His bloodshot eyes and his perfectly white fanged teeth are sexy as hell.

3) He is loyal and smart.

4) His 1000 year old wisdom has given him a sense of humour.

5) He can fly.

The Tempting Taken Man

So you spot a beenie. He's fine. He's cool. He's nice to you. And then just when you think, 'hmmm', he introduces you to his lovely wife.

Damn your principles....there is a type of man who would make you consider being 'the other woman'. Should these thoughts ever cross your mind though, (DANGER DANGER!) here are a few things you can do to steer away from those evil thoughts or actions (:P)...

>> Be friends with his wife (if she's nice to you, it'll up the guilt factor), if she's a bitch, take comfort in the fact that he might have really bad taste in women.

>> When you see him and your heart goes 'doop doop doop' quickly visualise your fantasy man instead. If you don't have a fantasy man...imagine this: Brad Pitt's toned glistening body in that steamy scene in Troy.

>> If you've decided to Facebook stalk the TTM, scan his pics for happy family pics...if he has kids, look long and hard at those pictures and think about how they'd take your being a homewrecker.

>> If your TTM's pics happen to involve happy family pics of him looking hot on the beach or if looking at pics of him and his beautiful daughter/son make you want him more...close the window and open THIS window instead.

>> Find out if your TTM has a hotter, younger SINGLE brother.

Whatever you do...AVOID:

>> Arranging to meet him on the sly.

>> Ask him if he's happy with his wife.

>> Stare longingly at him any chance you get.

>> Buy night vision goggles to stalk him outside his family home.

Anticipating The Weekend

Here are some things you should do should you want to attract male attention:

1) Be pretty : never go out without your makeup and nice-smelling hair.
2) Be happy: smile a lot and don't be afraid to laugh out loud.
3) Be 'syok sendiri': Love yourself, if you think you're hot, chances are people will think the same.
4) Be flirtatious: Toss your hair, smile with your eyes, giggle.
5) Be tactile: A well placed hand on arm, a careless hug, a brush of the foot will go a long way.

Here are some things you shouldn't do should you want to attract male attention:

1) Pile on so much makeup you're a cross between Donatella Versace and Bozo the Clown.Have unwashed hair or a shaved head (unless u're Natalie Portman of course)
2) Laugh like a hyena or snort uncontrollably while laughing.
3) Start announcing how hot you are at a party (or whichever crowded area you find yourself in) to get freebies.
4) Come on too strong: Don't suffocate him with your boobs, don't toss your hair into his face, don't stare him down then lick your lips mouthing 'I want to get nasty withchoo baby'.
5) Throw your arms around him and refuse to let go, pin him to a wall and suck face with him till he turns blue, grab his groin as you walk past him.

Filed Under Miscellanous

More reasons to avoid local men...

*In the car after dinner* 

SAD (Single, Assholic, Despo) Man: Shall we go to my place?

FSG (Fellow Single Girl): Thanks for dinner but I think I better head home, I'm tired.

SAD Man: But like, I have games in my place. Come over.

FSG: No thanks, I think I better get home, I have to be up early.

SAD Man: Just come for a bit, we can watch TV.

FSG: I don't want to come over to your place.

SAD Man: But, why?

FSG: Look, I'm not going to sleep with you ok?

SAD Man. *in whiny baby voice* But..but...I WANNNNNNNN!!!

*FSG gets out of car*

To All The Boys I've Loved Before....

Fantasy husbands and fantasy boyfriends are the best. I mean, I have them to thank for my incredibly warped ideas on the kind of person I should be with. So in ode to their famous fabulous selves, here is a list of the fantastic fantasy hubbies of my past:
In chronological order (teehee)...

1) Ronan Keating 
Years of marriage: 2 years (1996-1998)
 How I proved my love: On top of the list was refusing to talk to my mother for 2 weeks until she caved into taking me to a Boyzone concert. The only time I did talk to her was to scream 'YOU JUST DON'T UNDERSTAND!' when she questioned why a stupid boy band was so important. I am also STILL the proud owner of 2 Boyzone Tshirts and a couple of copies of the Boyzone official magazine. 
Reasons for divorce: Boyzone broke up and he became a solo artist asshole. 

2) Joshua Scott Chasez (JC Chasez) 
Years of marriage: 4 years (1998 - 2002) 
Years of eternal love: 12 years (1998 - Current)
How I proved my love: I once wrote an email to JC and accidentally forwarded it to all my cool friends who were quite unaware to the extent of my FANaticism and thought I listened to Radiohead. I've also bought a couple of tops that resemble the type he wore in the 'Its Gonna Be Me' video. On the 8th of August every year I will still secretly wish him a Happy Birthday. On many of my notebooks are scribbled the initials JC of which some of my college mates thought meant I was super religious (JC= Jesus Christ too). 
Reasons for love hiatus: He started wearing yellow PVC pants and grew long greasy curls. I love him back now tho! 

3) Brandon Boyd 
Years of marriage: 2 years (2003-2005)
How I proved my love: In my 3rd year uni room, there was only one poster on the wall - a giant black and white photograph of Mr. Boyd where I liked to think I worshipped at his feet. When a friend of mine showed me a pic of his friend taken with Brandon on the day after I found out I didn't get tickets to an Incubus concert, I wrote him a suicide note saying he'd pushed me over the edge. 
Reasons for divorce: He got together with Carolyn Murphy and I thought, can't compete with that. 

4) Wentworth Miller
Years of Marriage: 3 years (2005 - 2008)
How I proved my love: When Facebook was still a relatively new phenomenon without stupid security features and moderators, I created a Wentworth Miller profile so my status could read 'Married to...Wentworth Miller' - it stayed that way for a whole year before the moderators removed my fake profile (Grrrr)
Reasons for divorce: I found out he was gay. 

There you have it, past husbands of my colourful fantasy love life. Admit it, who was yours?  

Everything Is Opposite

You know they say that given enough time, you can recover from anything. And when you're in love...or at least when you THINK you're in love, you think this is impossible. You tell yourself you will never be the same, you've changed, the shift in your universe is too huge...that person has made your whole future, past and present a different shade.

HAH.

You CAN forget. You can become exactly the person you were before THAT one person who damaged you forever.

How? Here's how:

Lose yourself. Lose everything that you knew... and when everything is lost, only collect back the pieces that don't contain scars of him/her.

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I came across a remnant of you by chance today and I guess, today of all days, I should've been thinking about you. But today was just like any other day... I laughed, I relaxed, I played with my hair..Today I even watched a love story and you weren't there at all. I tried though, when I held that remnant of you in my palm...I tried to conjure you up in my mind. I tried to feel some pang of regret, or pain even. I tried to remember your laugh,your voice, the way you made it so much better just by being there. I tried to capture that image of you that always made my insides twist. I tried...I really tried. But, nothing. There is nothing left of you in me...so HAH.

Epilogue to Valentine's Day

Valentine's Day this year coincided with Chinese New Year. This has special significance, seeing as it almost never happens and Feb 14th this year meant that more people were celebrating the love they had in their lives. 

In the build up to V-day or S.A.D (Single Awareness Day), there was an abundance of rom-coms on TV and everyone who had anything to say came out of the woodwork to write about why it was so great to be either partnered up or single... 

And it got me thinking, why is it that V-day is always viewed as a celebration of romantic type love only? What about all the other loves in our lives? Are they not warranted at the very least, a cursory raising of a glass too? On Valentine's Day, are we meant to push aside everything else we have in our lives to love and only celebrate our partners or mull solemnly on the lack of?

Love should be celebrated on Valentine's Day. I truly do believe that. It is a day that reminds us that there is after all, something wonderful called Love. But I don't think we should be so rigid as to what kind of Love we are celebrating.

Why is it that single people are meant to suddenly feel ashamed at their lack of having a partner? Or come out in droves defending their choice to be single? Why is that that partnered people have to insist upon themselves to announce their bliss of being in a couple?

This romantic type Love...it is not something that may happen to everyone of us. Even those of us who have a partner may still be waiting for it. When will The One turn up? When is someone going to grow into becoming The One? When will The One save me from everyone else?

We've spent so much time waiting. And waiting has made us utterly miserable. Why can't we celebrate our lives and the Love we have in it right now? If we celebrated what we have right now then we wouldn't have to wait at all. 

I don't know...but here's a thought....instead of being single and trying to defend our right to not be in love or being in a relationship and trying to defend your right to be in love...why don't we just celebrate Love? That way, at least I think, we may not miss out on how fantastic our lives actually are right now.