Catch the Birdie

I've recently had the pleasure of being introduced into the world of bird watching...My life moves in strange ways indeed. And I realised that birdwatching is like man-watching. 

>> Just like birds, you spend hours observing and hoping for a beautiful one to come along. 

>> You spend hours and travel across the globe just looking for that one bird that checks all the criteria you are looking for. 

>> When you do spot a bird, you have to identify its characteristics. Does it have the markings of a good strong species?

>> If and when you do identify a rare bird (ie. a good man) everyone wants a piece of it. They will all clap and applaud it's beauty and spend hours, even days just observing it giving you small chance of capturing it yourself. 

>> When you do spot a beautiful, rare bird...you are always worried it will fly away. 

Six Pack Pact

This weekend I spent drooling over Ryan Reynolds. Erm, not literally. *sniff sniff*. And I was thinking to myself, oh man, will I ever get to feel a six pack like that ever in my life? I've never even seen one in real life. How sad is that? So in ode to the stuff we may never get to do, I've devised a list of things I wanna see (and touch) if I ever get the chance to before it's too damn late.

My Six Pack Pacts To Myself:

# Touch a six or eight pack abs like Ryan Reynold's or Rain's. (Anybody wanna go watch Ninja Assassin? *drool*)

# Shag someone with the 'hip line' (you know that one that goes from hip to *nether regions*...) Wahhhh.

# Have an incredibly pretty boy kiss me (by pretty I mean like the doe-eyes of Zack Effron and the lucious man-bangs of Chace Crawford) WOO!

# Have a super hot, super toned surfer dude teach me how to surf. Duuudddeee!

# Go out with a celebrity so we can take that classic papparazzi shot of him holding my hand and leading me away from the adoring crowd (with sunglasses and cap pulled down low of course). (And no, photoshopping yourself into a photo with Wentworth Miller [you KNOW who you are] does not count!!!]

Now, don't be shy...tell me what your six-pack dreams are....*sigh*

Panic Fantastique

Potsie sent me an email this morning saying that she had a panic attack last night. It is the age old single girl in her *sniff sniff* late twenties panic attack...the What If I'm Single Forever attack.

It is the kind of realisation that makes us suddenly want to wear more makeup or go to bars and pretend to smoke...or start laughing hysterically at very dull men. It is the kind of attack that well, makes you start a blog to try and remind yourself that being single can be happy too. Hah.

Well, 3 years ago, when I was still in the brighter side of my twenties, I had the attack. It occured to me that if I wanted to meet a nice boy, be with him for a couple of years before we get married, I should be actively start searching for him NOW NOW NOW. Unfortunately that was 3 years ago, and I fell in love with the right boy but at the wrong time and 3 years on, I am still very much single and the panic is starting to rise again.

What you should do when you get the Single-forever Panic Attack (SPA).

# - Think about the nice boys that you know and whether they're single. If they are, time to start thinking if you could be more than friends.

# - Become more sociable and don't turn down invitations to cool parties because you have to wash your hair.

# - Try online dating. (But please be careful)

# - Get a back up. Make a pact with a single good guy friend (gay or not gay) to get married by age whatever if you're both still single.

# - Get another back up. If you don't have any willing male friends, time to ask one of your sorority sisters if they want to share your sorority spinster house.

Syok Sendiri-ness (Hot For Yourself)

The other night I went out with a couple of FSGs (Fellow Single Girls) and were standing in line for the club. When we had been waiting for all of 10 minutes and were getting suitably hot and bothered this is what my FSG friend had to say:

FSG#1: They should let us go to the front and get in for free.

Happsgirl: Why?

FSG#1: Coz we're hot.

FSG#2: That's not a reason.

FSG#1: It should be.

Teeheehee. It got me thinking, do we over-estimate ourselves sometimes? Ok, do we over-estimate ourselves all the time? To the point of it maybe being the very reason we're single? I think I do. Case in point...perfectly nice normal boy comes and talks to you in the club...you say hi, but reckon, hey, you're hot enough tonight to hook up with the DJ. You end the night hanging around DJ's booth and then watch him take off with a model while perfectly nice boy has gone home with some ugly, bitchy girl you know he's too good for.

We bring this on ourselves. We do.

Signs you may be suffering from a bad case of syok-sendiri-ness:

#1 - You think you look hot even when you've just woken up and have eye bags that hang to your chin and hair that looks like an orang gila (crazy person).

#2 - When people ask you what's your lowest standard of guy you would date, you say 'billionnaire male model'.

#3 - If you go to a gig and the only people you think are good enough to hook up with are band members. Worse still if the band is made up of err, John Mayer alone.

#4 - You think you're compromising when you get asked out by a nice, cute guy but he doesn't happen to be a prince.

#5 - You demand to be let into a club on account of your hotness. Even if it entails a big embarrassing fight with the bouncers and the phrase 'Do you know who my father is?' being thrown about.

#6 - You think people are checking you out all the time, even when you're driving and people are looking in your direction because you are the oncoming traffic they need to avoid.

The SOM (Sexy Older Man)

One day I was like in the supermarket in KLCC and I was looking for some juice. I reached for the juice and I noticed someone next to me. When I turned around, I was faced with something juicier than my box of Sunkist Orange(kakaka). It was a Sexy Older Man (SOM). He had wavy hair that was tinged with salt and pepper. He wore a trilby hat (always a plus point as it shows gentlemanliness) and he had greenish-hazel eyes.

Anyway, dare I recall...I grabbed my juice, hid behind the supermarket aisle and grinned like an idiot when he glanced my way. Then I pulled the classic, 'oh I'm a very busy woman' trick and ran the hell away to tell all my friends I had encountered a rare species. 

It got me thinking...are we old enough to be okay dating SOMs? I think we definitely are. However, do I have the emotional maturity to handle a SOM? I think I definitely don't. I mean, can I hold a conversation with an intelligent man over 10 years my senior? Yes. But, can I keep it together enough for him to think I'm a fantastic, mature, intelligent, non-crazy, woman? No. 

I can foresee something like this happening:

SOM: Yes yes, the judiciary in this country really needs to be looked at. In a recent case, a guy was arrested under penal code 434 etc. etc. 

Happsgirl: Mm-hmm. I totally agree. *stifles laughter*(heeheehee...he said PENAL!!).

Not. Good. 

B-Day (Bubble bursting-day)

If you wanna measure how much you matter to the 'men in your life', then there's no better way than when it comes to your birthday. Here are the responses of people I consider/considered to be *significant*. 

Former Love of Life (FLOL) - no wishes. From being the only person to make it special 3 years ago...to multiple messages 2 years ago...to belated wishes a year ago...to nothing. Silence. NOWT. Now I know why they call it EX-communicado.

Pseudo-Crush - he didn't know it was my birthday. 'Nuff said. Altho, he did try making up for it when I reminded him. Hurhur. 

Ridic - I don't think he got the message alert on FB since he has 10 000 friends and at least 100 ppl might've shared my bday. 

James Franco - despite the fact he doesn't know I exist, he STILL managed to turn up in Spiderman 3 which happened to be showing on the bus I was taking on my birthday. That was very nice of him. 

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In more exciting news though, not one but TWO sexy older men(SOM) sent very sweet messages to me.

Message from SOM #1 - Hey sweetie, rumour has it it's your birthday...so happy birthday honey. (Cheap thrill factor: 8 outta 10) - sweet nothings sial! 

Message from SOM #2 - Happy birthday dear. *something intellectual I don't understand* Lots of love SOM#2. (Cheap thrill factor: 9 outta 10) - because it was damn intellectual. 

The Good Crush?

Easier said than done but I reckon, if you're gonna have a crush, it better be a good one. As in good for you. Recently, both my good friends Prontip and Rie have revealed that they are blissfully 'in crush' with good crushes. Here are a few tips on how to spot a good crush.

>> He is nice to you. (By this I mean, he at least acknowledges your presence and does things like send you cheering up emails and takes you into consideration when he erm, buys popcorn at the cinema)

>> He is nice to other people. (He does noble things like gives his seat up for old ladies and asks after your mom and oh, helps build schools for poor orphans)

>> He is not secretly gay. (He does not flirt with you for the sole purpose of getting your 20% M.A.C. discount voucher)

>> Everyone around you does not exclaim 'HE IS AN ASSHOLE' when you mention his name. (This is a special NOTE TO SELF)

>> He is not taken and lying about it. (Any crush who happens to mention that he has a wife and kid is TOXIC).

>> He does not confuse you (He doesn't play a cat and mouse, talking in circles game with you)

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Anyhoo...I need a good crush. My crush, Ridic does not fulfill any of the criteria I mentioned above. He is not nice to me. (Well, he blew me off the one and only time I contacted him. Rude. )He is not nice to other people. (Despite his 5000 and growing number of FB friends.blah.). Everyone around me screams he is an asshole when I mention him :( :( He is taken and being very assholic about it. Poor girl. And I suspect, one day he might confess he's gay. Dear me.

My Pseudo-Crush, Mr.White, however, is not a particularly a good crush either. But since he is a pseudo-crush I reckon fulfilling half of my requirements is A-Ok.

In conclusion, I need a good crush. But unfortunately, due to the lack of candidates, he'll have to be James Franco for now.

The Fucken Absence of a Green Dot

I had an epiphany tonight. Nobody is 'available' anymore. Seriously. Just look at your MSN friend list and you'll realise that everyone is either 'Busy' or 'Away' or 'Out To Lunch'. The dots are hardly ever green.

Nobody is available even when they say they are. I'm talking about being available in the wider sense obviously. Nobody is single and available. Just ask around, look around...are there any men who are single and available and NOT desperate? NOOOOOOO. Which is shitty shit shit.

Really...nobody is available in the widest sense. Not my crush...Ridic (he's not available because he's hooked up with some poor girl he's only dating for her virginity so I heard...yes yes yes, he's an asshole..whatever), not my long time TV crush Greg on CSI, not gay Wentworth Miller, not the cute guy I saw the other day in the carpark, not the male model I stalk on Facebook, not any of my old crushes (fuckadoodle doo most of them are married), not even my pseudo-crush Mr.White (who tells me he's got some HO sitting next to him while he flirts with me), not my secret pedophilic crush (teehee whom I brushed by the other day but fuckadingdong he's hooked up with some old crow like 15 years his senior)...etc.etc.

Fucken hell, NOBODY is available. They all seem to be when you meet them but then it's all like, hey, I got a fucken mail order bride waiting for me at home, or some German HO up my sleeve, or like oh, I'm fucken married to some foul-mouthed psycho Vietnamese ho, or like, oh, I have a crush on a tranny, or like, I'm an asshole fucktard who isn't available to anyone or anything but my dick...

So screw you unavailable people! I'm fucken gonna be unavailable too. I'll have a fucken RED DOT next to my name. BU-SY.
Girls girls, seriously...it's better to pretend to be unavailable because these days, having a green dot next to your name apparently spells LO-SER. Yah yah...What hope do we have ah?

Use Your Cigarette

I think I am in need of flirting tips. Spending the weekend with Prontip has made me realise that I am useless in the art of flirting. Me and Potsie have decided that if we are going to be any good at it, we must take a master class from Prontip. Here are a few things I've learnt through observation...

1) Use your cigarette - The best opening line ever is 'Have you got a light?'
I have been eternally impressed by the story of the girl who stands at the bar having an unlit ciggy in her hand when a mysterious hand will swoop in from behind her and lights it for her. That's class. I mean once I was reenacting the story and the bartender did the same thing for me but erm, a teenage Indian bartender lighting your ciggy doesn't have the same effect as a Rolexed well cuffed arm swooping in from behind you and wordlessly lighting it, now does it?

2) Use your eyes - Prontip has this magnificent way of looking at a guy and disarming him. I don't think she knows when she's doing it but I have observed and it's a kind of intense yet careless look that makes guys suddenly feel all self-aware and extra macho. I must learn to master this without looking like a maniac.

3) Use your hair but not too much - Playing slightly with your hair is good. Tossing your head around and literally acting like you're at a Metallica concert circa 1992 is not. Must learn to flip n' flirt. Do not keep flipping. Again. must learn to master this without looking like maniac.

4) Use your lips - Slightly pursing your lips and pouting is good. I think Potsie does this well too without even trying. She has luscious lips. Biting your lip slightly is also good. Again, I have not done this very well. Once I was trying the whole biting your lower lip thing to appear cute and my guy friend was like 'Do you have a facial tick?'. Must master without looking like I am retarded.

5) Use your laugh - Guys love it when a girl laughs at their jokes. Guys love it when girls think they're jokers. Guys do not like it when a girl is laughing AT them. Guys don't like girls who think they ARE the joke. Giggling is good. Full bellied laugh until snot comes outta your nose is not. Sarcastic laughter is also not good. Must master this one to full effect. Also don't try to out-funny a guy. They don't like it when you suddenly become the stand up comedy act of the evening. (Repeat last sentence to self).

I Picture You Beautiful

I picture you as beautiful.
Lying in the grass, face toward the sky, light in your hair, rolled up checked shirt sleeves...your eyes closed, your lips curled into a smile, your fingers playing with blades of grass...I picture you there, propped on your elbows and beautiful, beside me.

It is the last complete memory I have of you. Like a faded photograph, folded and yellow and torn at the sides, I take out to look at from time to time.

You are supposed to lose someone, mourn the loss of them, move past it and wake up one day and finally be happy again. That happened.

But nobody tells you that one night you might be walking along, feel a breeze, look up at the sky and suddenly in that perfect moment, have a rogue memory that makes your breath stop short.

I don't understand how you forget that this was the one that made you the person you are today. That every other person that comes after is compared and contrasted against him. I don't understand how you become the person that was before him. How do you revert back?

Do you forget that someone like him exists? Do you erase him completely? How do you tear up that one perfect picture you have of him in your memory box that escapes from time to time? I want to revert back. I want to backspace to the part that came before him. How the hell do I do that?