Bye and thanks for all the s***

Just done chatting with CY who's just had his heart dumped into a blender on "frappe" setting. Well, not really dumped. More like lowered slowly while you watch.

It hurts when a friend hurts, but most of all, I find an eerie similarily between his thoughts and mine when I myself was suffering from heartbreak. The once familiar feeling of bleak helplessness, self-bashing, despair and grief.

I've almost forgotten how all that feels. It's a physical feeling, a twisting, pulling sensation that starts at your collarbone, reaches deep into your chest and ends at the diaphragm - a strange sensation of both emptiness and tightness. Hopelessness. The kind that finds you sitting alone, hugging your knees tightly, rocking to and fro, crying noisily and uglily, unmindful of the tears and snot that have free rein all over your face and neck. Scared that there's nothing else left for you, that the world's gone and left you behind. All thanks to a member of the opposite sex whom you will never fully forgive. The individual that has just done a polka on your bleeding heart in golf shoes.

It's amazing how different the views of a relationship are at different points in time. Especially on the way out. Unlike people, relationships often don't have a nice rear end view. And that view only becomes spikier the further away we walk from it. After enough time has passed, it may even come to look comic. It's then that we see exactly how much turd we'd had to step on chasing after that relationship.

I recall the angriest break-up I'd ever had. It was the one and only time in my life I ever screamed at anyone. Ever. And this wasn't even the most intense relationships I'd had, just the most frustrating. We had broken up, but he phoned me and I felt bad to reject his calls, so I agreed to talk. Of course, these calls ended badly, with him asking over and over again for reasons and not accepting any of my answers. In utter frustration and rage, I screamed at him over the phone. At least that shocked him into temporary silence. But I'll bet he remembers me as the crazy ex-girlfriend for that. I'll also bet he leaves out the part about him not accepting that we were on entirely different wavelengths, that I could never live up to the way he wanted me to be, and that we couldn't communicate if our lives depended on it.

And of course, he would have left out the part about me catching him picking up girls over chatrooms, looking them up over ICQ, asking for their numbers, asking them out (they all said no to this "weatherman"), telling them about his EX-girlfriend (i.e. me, and no, we had NOT broken up yet at that point), and showing them the beautiful poem he wrote for that same EX-girlfriend upon their breaking up (no, hadn't broken up yet here either).

(For the record, when I confronted him about this back then, he said, "It's only harmless flirting. And I didn't go out with them." When I asked what if any of the girls had actually said yes, he said that wasn't the point. Someone sound the death knell, please.)

While this ex has the honour of my most dramatic break-up, he doesn't take top prize for the being the biggest lout I've dated. Cheating, lying, name-calling, psychotic, persecution-complex, commitment-phobic, self-deceiving, threatening, judgemental, possessive, obsessive boy-men aged 18 to 37 have whirled in and out of my life. Quite an interesting lot, on hindsight, but terribly bad for me.

So I say to them: "Bye and thanks for all the shit."

Mag brag landing publishers in hot soup

Kelvin recently showed me a segment in Marketing Magazine's Guess Who, Don't Sue section (March 2006 issue). It spoke about an 'unnamed' magazine that agreed to reimburse one of their luxury brand advertisers a large percentage of their advertising spending and slash their current rates after the advertiser found out that the magazine's actual print run was less than half of what was claimed in the media kit.

Then, reading the previous month's (February) issue this evening, I found a short write-up about how falsely inflated circulation claims could land publishers in jail. Directly below this write-up was a small section, Audit Watch, which reported that Singapore Tatler announced its intention of getting Media Circulation Services to audit the luxury magazine. I thought it a bit of a coincidence - the placement of these two short write-ups, and then the very next issue's mention of a luxury client getting money back for misrepresented circulation. But this is purely my own speculation and I claim no truth in it whatsoever. Heh.

The moral of my story is, I found this tale of false circulation claims rather familiar, and it reminded me of a magazine (which shall remain nameless...I love saying that) that I was very familiar with. An angry ex-employee, who had been told to leave because of conflicting ideas with management, had told me that she had a good mind to embarass them by telling advertisers that the actual print-run was less than a quarter of what they had been led to believe. And she could very well have done that, as she was on very good terms with most of the magazine's major advertisers.

Hah! She thought she would just be embarassing them! In view of what was printed in Marketing Magazine, they might have gotten into very big trouble indeed. Though, I noticed they've recently changed their claim for the size of their print-run, which is certainly a wise move. Still, looking at the advertising content of the two most recent issues, I do wonder a bit about whether they did get any flak...but that's me in pure speculation mode again.

Luke (half of the dream team that contrived Roses & Hello) tried to take this 'artistic' shot of me during last Sunday's reading. That bright border is his hand. Then someone commented it looks like looking up someone's rectum. Lovely. I look like the scope end of a prostate exam.

A cuter picture graced my (poor, abused) camera that evening when Hawk's cat (who shall remain nameless, according to its owner) cuddled up to the door while the rest of us were making a din. This mild, amiable tom-cat charmed the pants off everyone.

Unsolitude

I'm a person who loves solitude in healthy doses. Don't get me wrong - I do enjoy being with friends and people I like, but the need to be by myself in quiet or in music is an absolute necessity to maintain my sanity.

Which is why I find myself in the unusual circumstance of feeling lonely. Yes, I know, I've written about a similar feeling not too long ago (and probably during my last PMS too). But yeah, it's unusual. I suddenly find myself in silence that is too thick, aimless sitting around, and not the least bit inclined to go do all the things I usually like to do in the sole company of myself, save for this little bout of writing, and it gives me little pleasure at the moment.

My curtains are drawn and I can't see outside my window, but it sounds brooding and echoey. I suspect rain may be coming, just like almost every day this past month. I wonder what the air would smell like outside now, but I don't feel like opening the window.

Kelvin will be over for dinner this evening. I can't wait to see him.

Model grandma

I had no idea my grandma had modelled for a detergent ad till I ploughed through a box of old B&W family photos and spotted this one. I'm not sure if this was a test shot or a real ad, since there are glaring imperfections in the picture such as the fold lines in the apron and shirt and the zipper dangling visibly from the side of her cheongsam. Still, it's pretty neat that she was even asked to model for the ad, since modelling certainly wasn't on her priority list (see this entry for more on this amazing woman).

Why kids should never get makeovers

When you have a big sister that likes to play dress-up and you're the little hostage at home, you get interesting results. Let me use myself as an example.

Exhibit 1: I have no idea why anyone in the house even had this wig.

Exhibit 2: I'll admit, I liked dressing up as princesses at this age. It was really fun and I still laugh about it with my sis. Still, seeing those throw cushions under my skirt and my mum's giant clips in my hair makes me wonder what the heck we were doing.

Exhibit 3: My sis was sixteen and had just discovered make-up. There are socks under that tube top since yours truly was still a couple of years from puberty.

Exhibit 4: She finally got it right...when I was fifteen.

It's raining flowers!

This was taken just an hour ago when passing by Begonia Park. It's vastly different from what it was during my childhood, but it's no less lovely in the evening light. The even scattering of white blossoms gave it a bit of ethereal charm today, thanks to the drippy weather.

Was treated to this sight yesterday while just leaving Great World City on the Kim Seng Road side. I guess all these flowers got dumped during the rain that fell a short while ago. This is what the rest of the tree looks like.
Also saw a similar sight along the riverside walk the other night. Not as prolific, but it stood out more because of the almost luminous white blossoms in the dim light. The picture is blur, though. I'm no tripod person, even when taking pics at night.

I stuck my bunny for this post

I think it's my human failing that I take things too personally, even for things that are sometimes not entirely about me. Let me explain with a vague-ish example. Recently, a minor and commonplace choice I made was very obnoxiously derided, rather pointlessly too. It offended me to a small extent, not so much because it insulted my taste in such an insignificant matter, but more because I knew that the person in question did so only to feel better about herself by putting someone else down at the slightest, stupidest opportunity. So it wasn't really a personal insult, just her purile attempt at allaying her own insecurity. Still, it made me (and my companion next to me, who gaped at her open-mouthed after her loud retorts) feel shocked at the way it was delivered, and rather peeved. I probably wouldn't have minded so much if it was a one-time event, but, unfortunately, it seems to be a persistent trait of this acquaintance.

There was a time when I would've given it right back and more, but these days I'm more likely to stick pins in my mental voodoo doll than to open my mouth and stoop to their level (the bunny was just for fun and to make this blog entry look more interesting). Believe me, in this mouth of mine resides a tongue that could freeze the bowels of Krakatoa, but that might mean damaging a friendship if administered at the wrong moment. That I'm not willing to do. So I just seeth for a moment, decide that I dislike the person a little more, and then put it out of my mind.

Some call that repression. I agree.

I don't think it's a gift that I see people and am often able to tell generally what they're like after observing them a bit. Just some years and some firsthand experience is enough to teach anybody to recognise a set of telltale signs. It's a gift for those who can totally overlook faults, or just not see them entirely. Some call it tolerance. I agree. Though I sometimes call it oblivion too. True, it sometimes makes me seem like a smaller person for catching someone's faults which others can't see, but I see it as just a part of understanding the whole of a person and learning which parts of them to dodge and which good parts to appreciate.

I've heard someone say before, "If I don't like the person, the person will jolly well know it." While I can understand that principle may seem like honesty in its truest form, I don't think it's always the best way to go. Just because you don't like someone doesn't mean you get all beastly to them or make them feel bad around you. Or maybe I'm just chicken to show my displeasure. Or maybe my heart is softer than my mouth. I suspect it's usually a combo of all three.

Astrology - only part crap

I had a nagging suspicion about the person mentioned above, so one day I asked her what her astrological sign was. I was spot on. She turned out to be of the sign that I have shockingly good chemistry with, even as their faults drive me nuts. See if you can guess which one (no cheating for those I've mentioned this to before):

1. Very charming (with some rare exceptions)
2. Deathly self-absorbed: everything that happens just has to be about them; they're more concerned with telling you their opinions than to process yours (even if they ask for it - the blank look when you tell them what you think is a dead giveaway)
3. Highly insecure, which manifests in three main ways:
3.1. by bragging
3.2. by putting other people down to feel better about themselves
3.3. by displaying attention-seeking behaviour
4. Stubborn (refer to point 2)
5. Intelligent
6. Passive aggressive
7. Passionate but brutally practical when it suits their purposes

I've had the misfortune of dating one. Like my many friendships with people born under this sign, it was fast, intense, but had great potential for callous hurt. But I continue firm friendships with some by virtue of the eerily good chemistry I have with them. (My sis tells me it's because it's my rising sign...whatever that means.)

Don't get me wrong - I'm not an astrology flake. I don't buy vague astro crap like "Your moons are in Uranus, which will affect certain functions". But there does seem to be some truth in the characteristics shared by people born under the same signs*. Perhaps people born at certain times of the year share some similar traits by nature of how they relate to certain seasons or to other people born at different times of the year.

*Or, as astrologers would say, the sign that your sun was in when you were born, which explains why Scorpios like me will never see the constellation Scorpius in October/November - it's highest in the sky and most visible in the spring months, when the sun is at the 'opposite end' of the sky.

Be a man!

(click on the image for a larger view)

I was sifting through some old magazines and such and found my mother's old horror comic issue, the sole survivor of a whole stash. She'd told me it was from her girlhood and I never thought to check its published date in all the years I'd had it. It suddenly occurred to me to check it tonight, and it's from only 1974! That's even after my sister was born.

Anyway, I'd always found this advertisement very amusing. It appeared in almost all the DC horror comics in my mum's stash. Beefcake Charles Atlas claims he can "make you a new man" through his book, and see what he came up with to convince you?

Why, you could beat up the dude who kicked sand in your face after reading his wonder body book. In fact, you may win the admiration of swooning broads and other beach-goers after you're done beating up your ex-tormenter. In fact, you could even shape society by helping to perpetuate stereotypical (bad for men) and sexist (bad for women) gender perceptions. Not to mention earning some time in the pen for assault (at least with a body like that, you won't have to worry about dropping the soap). How's that for turning your life around?

Birthday trivia

I'm going to hop on Kelvin's bandwagon again: "Go to Wikipedia and look up your birthday (excluding the year). List three neat facts, two births and one death in your journal, including the years."

3 neat facts (or rather, events)
1938 - Orson Welles broadcasts his radio play of H. G. Wells's The War of the Worlds, causing a nationwide panic.
1966 - The Zodiac killer kills his first victim, 18-year old Cheri Jo Bates, in Riverside, California.
1983 - The first democratic elections in Argentina after seven years of military rule are held.

2 births
1735 - John Adams, American revolutionary leader and President of the United States (d. 1826)
1893 - Charles Atlas, Italian-born bodybuilder (d. 1972)

1 death
1975 - Gustav Ludwig Hertz, German physicist, Nobel Prize laureate (b. 1887)

I have to mention this one too: Annual event
USA - Mischief Night in some areas (known as Devil's Night in Detroit)

Plus, I was born at 6.05pm, which was the regular time cartoons were shown on TV at the time. So I was born on Halloween's eve at cartoon time. What does imply about me?

Personal DNA

Yes, another personal quiz, handed down by Kelvin and Elaine as usual. Turns out, I am a Faithful Architect. Funny - no one I know would ever call me an architect!

Faithful Architect

In case you really have nothing better to do, my full report is here.

Ah, but speaking of real conversations, here's a total gem from some years ago on ICQ. This is the real chat history with a weirdo that started a random chat while I was at work. I was Aurora.

7/24/02

3.10pm Ong: hi

3.12pm Aurora: who're u?

3.13pm Ong: hi me called Francis. Nice to meet u, Daphne

3.14pm Aurora: sorry, i'm at work now, i cant chat

3.14pm Ong: me too, i am at work. What u work as

3.15pm Aurora: woman-who-swears-at-man-who-icq-her-at-work

3.15pm Ong: ha ha ha ha tell me lah

3.18pm Aurora: editorial work

3.18pm Aurora: hey, i'm really busy now....

3.18pm Ong: okay shall we authorise in contact list and chat next time?

3.18pm Aurora: ok

3.20pm Ong: ya pls make yrself visible when u are available ok

3.20pm Aurora : sure

3.21pm Ong: bcos then i am able to snd u msg otherwise i thought u are off-line

3.21pm Aurora: sure thing

3.21pm Ong: btw i always on-line so u are welcome to drop me msg

3.22pm Aurora: ok

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
7/25/02

1.51pm Ong: hi tall girl

1.52pm Aurora: wat makes u think i'm tall?

1.54pm Ong: then what is yr ht, tell me

1.54pm Aurora: 1.62

1.55pm Aurora: this is how u weasel info outta girls eh

1.55pm Ong: what is yr wt

2.11pm Ong: tell me abt yr work ? What u work as in the editorial field

2.13pm Aurora: editorial assistant

2.16pm Ong: u must hv a good command of English

2.17pm Aurora: yup, i do

2.17pm Ong: i wish to learn English would u be my language teacher

2.18pm Aurora: i've a short fuse and a quick tongue. not gd for teaching.

2.20pm Ong: never mind, i have ultra high degree of tolerance for pretty girl

2.21pm Aurora: u're not in luck. i look like yesterday's accident.

2.21pm Ong: ha ha ha ha

2.22pm Ong: oic, with bloody face and fracture limbs

2.23pm Aurora: close enough

2.24pm Ong: oic that is a nightmare

2.25pm Ong: well i think i can help u

2.25pm Ong: to regain yr charm

2.26pm Aurora: i dun need to regain my charm, i like myself the way i am

2.26pm Ong: sound like u are a saddist

2.27pm Aurora: i'm not a sadist. i simply have self-confidence.

2.28pm Ong: oh to bring nightmare to ppl bring u self-confidence that elicit yr inner conflict

2.31pm Aurora: i was kidding, dear boy

2.31pm Ong: oic i believe in every word u said

2.32pm Ong: so my fair lady would u teach me english ?

2.33pm Aurora: no one needs to be taught english. juz read n converse.

2.34pm Ong: ya i need plenty of conversations, would u let me hv yr hp no we chat on-line

2.34pm Aurora: online will do

2.35pm Ong: oh i think i need to enhance on my conversation skill. shall we exchange contact no

2.36pm Aurora: no

2.37pm Ong: then i hv to live with poor english skills and let ppl look down on me, poor Francis

2.39pm Aurora: nice try, dude

2.40pm Ong: hard to get lass

2.41pm Aurora: truth is, i dun like getting picked up

2.42pm Ong: then i get u straight

2.42pm Ong: i wish to court u and wana to get yr hp no sweeties

2.42pm Aurora: well, DUH, i know.

2.43pm Ong: what is DUH

2.43pm Aurora: haha, nvm.......

2.43pm Ong: tell me

2.44pm Aurora: it's juz an expression

2.44pm Ong: or shall i tell u directly i wana hold yr hands and moonlighting with me

2.45pm Aurora: u dun even know me

2.47pm Ong: shall we meet for diner to know u more

2.47pm Aurora: sorry, no

2.47pm Ong: well then i can only hug u at night ... in dream world

2.48pm Aurora: think ur bolster wld be a more realistic goal

2.50pm Ong: if u are my bolster i shall squeeze it hard, press it close to my chest and kiss it and lie on top of it, grap u between my legs

2.50pm Ong: change to cover to explore the inner beauty

2.51pm Ong: undress its cover and reveal it softness and enticing self

2.51pm Aurora: oh gawd....i feel my lunch coming back up my throat

2.52pm Ong: ha ha ha ha ha

2.52pm Ong: u are cordially invited to be my bolster

2.53pm Ong: that is how i fell asleep see got to do so much exercise myself

2.54pm Aurora: cordially declined.

2.56pm Ong: well then i got to do all the job on my own, poor me

2.57pm Aurora: eww........ i dun wanna know what job

2.58pm Ong: ha ha ha ha

2.58pm Ong: ;-)

2.59pm Ong: just rubs the bolster between my legs and stimulates my manhood to ejaculation lor

3.02pm Ong: u will certainly make my night more interesting and fun-filled if u could be my bolster

3.03pm Aurora: ok. NOW u're going into my ignore list. bye francis

3.03pm Ong: wei dun like that leh

3.04pm Ong: okay lor dun tell u my secret anymore

3.05pm Aurora: u wank and u cum.... wow, big secret

3.05pm Ong: ha ha ha ha ha it is very interesting to chat with u

3.06pm Ong: are u with the local news agency or private publisher

3.09pm Ong: wei y u so quiet now, i dun think that is you right

3.13pm Ong: okay Daphne dun be so petty can ? Francis is a very nice guy actually

Make what you want of this. It's just something that popped in my head. [*Update: Oops! This isn't a real event, just a scenario that I came up with for fun!]

The photo, by the way, was taken a couple of years ago when I realised that it was one of the few remaining old-time bus stops left, and was probably going to be replaced very soon. Hence, this photo, for posterity.

At the Bus Stop

"Was that the thirty-two I just missed?"

"Yes, it was."

"Damn! Now I've got at least fifteen minutes to wait for that confounded bus! Don't you just hate it when you miss buses by just that bit?"

"I guess."

"I once tried running after the bus, banging on the side of it and yelling, "Stop! For the love of God, stop!" The driver didn't stop."

"Uh huh..."

"Drivers these days."

(Silence.)

"That's a nice dress."

"Eh, thank you."

"Really brings out your chest."

"What?"

"Yeah, you have a nice chest. That dress really makes you look swell, not to mention those. Oh hey, don't walk away! I was just being honest! Okay, okay, maybe that wasn't the best ice breaker. Didn't realise how pervy that sounded until I said it. Just thought you looked nice in the dress. Could we start over?"

"Start over what?"

"Start over having a conversation with a fresh acquaintance, of course. Starting now. Hi! Was that the thirty-two I just missed? Damn! Now I've got at least fifteen minutes to wait. My name is Jerry."

"I'm just waiting for the bus. Please leave me alone."

"Okay, okay. Sorry."

"It's okay."

(Pause. Pause somemore.) "Just that it's such a pity that two people who click so well from the start can't chat like new friends. And what a bonus to have a new friend who looks as good as you! Not that I'm coming on to you or anything, but I can always tell when someone's going to be on the same frequency as I am. Hah, I know what you're doing. You're pretending to look out for your bus to avoid talking to me! Don't worry, I'm not some kind of weirdo. I won't bite or talk about your boo...I mean, dress anymore. Come on, what's your name?"

"Oh, for crying out loud..."

"You're a Connie, aren't you? You look like a Connie. Connie? No? Yes? No? How about Candice? Say, they both start with 'C'. Let's see, Correen? Carrie? Clementine? Let me know when I'm getting warmer. Christy? Christine?"

"Fine! Fine! I'm Wendy!"

"Wendy? Odd, I thought you'd be a 'C' girl."

"Well, I'm not, and you can stop annoying me already."

"Annoying? I didn't mean to be annoying. I meant to be friendly, Wendy."

"By talking about my chest."

"I'm sorry! I already admitted that wasn't the best thing to say. Say, Wendy - like in the book Peter Pan. Heehee, got a thimble, Wendy? Any happy thoughts? If they're happy enough, you won't have to wait for that bus! Haha!"

(Under her breath.) "Geez, I feel like I'm waiting for Godot."

"Man, I remember that cartoon as well! Peter Pan was the first Disney cartoon I watched as a kid. I hardly watched any cartoons then. And the only thing I got to watch on TV was Matlock, which my grandma watched every Thursday afternoon. That old guy was really something. I wonder if I'll ever be that brainy. Then I might end up with all that white hair. Is it so bad having white hair? Richard Gere has white hair and he's still a stud. Do you have any white hair under all that brown dye? I'll bet you do - I can see the streaky bits where the brown goes over the white. Are you under a lot of stress? I know an excellent way to relieve stress. I derived it myself based on yoga principles. Well, sort of. You stand with your feet apart like so, bend over like you're going to fart, raise one fist above your head and the other in front like this, and then, as loudly as you can..."

"My bus is here! Bye!"

"Hey wait! You haven't heard the..."

"Bye!"

(Watching the bus pull away.) "Pity. Just as I thought we were connecting."

Can live with vs can't live without

A friend once asked me, "Would you want to be with a man you can live with or a man you can't live without?"

"A man I can live with."

She nodded. "We're all practical people."

This was when I was twenty years old, messed up, depressed and knew that the one I couldn't live without would never be mine to hold. I assumed that her question assumed that the two options didn't exist in the same person. It was the age of unfortunate discovery for many of us. Hearts were broken both callously and gingerly. The greatest loves were also the most destructive. The highest hopes were those that were dashed most completely.

What would you choose?

A man you can't live without (but assuming you can't live with): You'd spend your life with the one your heart has surrendered to, who seems as much a part of your soul as yourself. You know that your soul would be dead if you were sundered from him. But he slowly tears you apart. You know he can make you happy but can never keep you happy.

A man you can live with (but assuming you are lukewarm with him): You'd be with a man who will provide you with security and comfort. You're nowhere near madly in love with him, but he is pleasing enough and is not likely to let you down. But somewhere inside you is a nagging feeling, an emptiness that he can never fill. And perhaps there is the great what-if that troubles you when you're unable to repress it. Perhaps the thought of another burns in your mind - the one you couldn't live without.

[Of course if you're of a different gender or sexual orientation, consider the appropriate version of the above.]

If someone were to ask me the same question today, I'd think it a stupid question, since I've already found someone who embodies both.