Please tell me that ...

Oh dear sweetie,
Please do tell that the real reason you want me to stay is to keep me close. And that you don't want me to leave you ever. Despite everything that has happened, I'm still the one that you really want.

That was my wishful thinking when he said what he needed to say. But I know for sure it is what it is. Wishful thinking at it's best. I'd never be the one that he wants. How sad, but true.

Don't you hate it when you know that there is nothing that you can do to change the situation. And don't you even hate it more when before you have the chance to do something, that door closed on you. I mean, really?

So here I am. Done with wishful thinking, laying down on the ground. Hugging the earth close, waiting for that one person who can make me feel the way I did for him again. Waiting for that man with a sense of greater than life to pick me off the ground and sweep me off my feet.

Until then, I'm hugging mother earth and laying low.

Really???

Why is it that I always have this urge to write whenever I'm sleepy. Is it the same like when one feels the urge to purge whenever one is drunk? Purge as in to tells everybody everything one feels the need to tell. Is sleepiness similar to drunkeness? Hmm, I wonder.

Anyhoo, this urge to write is probably caused after I wander into the internet dating site I was writing previously. After so many days shunting it (I was after all in Paris, where hot, gorgeous, men with suit wandering around its streets), I went back and guess what ... so many rejections on my "inbox". One stated a physical distant is too great, but this one does reside in the same state. Physical distant, my a**. One stated other, could also be translated as "not-interested-but-don't-really-wanna-bother-to-tell-you-the-exact-reason-why-cause-you-so-not-worth-it". Or maybe it's just me. Whatever.

But I did scored two. One with not so distinct, oh how do I say it, attractiveness. And the other with an amazing resume, photos and all. Dang, I still feel so pathetic though. To my defense, I live in a city where the great men are either married or gay. And the stock of single, soon-to-be-great men is dwindling. Why did I ever choose this town? Maybe because my objective was to get a degree, not snatching a men. But hey a girl could multitask, can she?

Aw, man. This makes me feel a little depressed now ... aaaargh.

Going Fishing

I have a confession to make. *sigh* Here goes ...

For the past 3 months, I have been a member of an internet dating service. Yes, I am trying on internet dating.

*phew* There you go. Now on the context of this post.

I don't know if you are lucky enough to be doing internet dating. But for those who aren't, well, let me tell you how it goes. So all you need to do it provide your basic information and write short stories on your lonely, but oh so fulfilling life. Make sure you have a picture of yourself. And make sure it shows your best side. Other members would likely to based their judgment by this photo alone. Then you choose some categories. These will be used by the service to match you to several potential future significant others (please let me know if I'm being redundant here ...). Click OK or Submit several times and voila! You have your own internet dating profile.

Then here comes the tricky part. You have to sort through the abundance of matches provided by the website. My particular service let the members go through several steps, until they could send each other secure messages through the website. So to make the short story short, I have gone through some up and down. I've been to the open stage of the matchmaking with several men. But nobody sticks around long enough for me to consider open dating. Oh, the woe of internet dating!!!

I guess this internet dating thing is a lot like non cyberspace dating most people are doing. It feels like going fishing. You throw all the baits you can throw, out there to the water, then sit and wait for the fish bite. Sometimes you got lucky, sometimes the fish snuff you even before step one is done. Oh my god, what I'd do for my dad (long story, that is for another post). Then when first few steps are successful, there is no guarantee that it would translate to a date. A real date. Have the world gone mad? Or to be specific, have I gone mad?

At first, it feels kinda exciting. Picking which match you will communicate with. Hmm, not this one *click*. This one sounds funny *click*. Oh, this one is not going to work *click*. After several attempts to make connection, I am ready to crash and burns. Maybe even gives this internet dating stuff up. *sigh*

There has to be another way to find a future significant other ...

Get your foot out of your mouth!

Yup, your mouth can be your worst enemy. It sometimes has its own mind and you have no control of it. It would blurted out the most embarrassing, humiliating fact, that until one second ago is unknown to the person sitting across you. For me, my mouth, or in this case, my blog was my own worst enemy.

A while back, I was bitching about my living situation. Very tacky, indeed, I know. But what do you expect from a woman who has PMDD (according to me, of course). And suddenly I realize, that this blogging thing isn't entirely private. Well, yeah, DOH! This is the internet after all. And nothing is private in the internet. It's like leaving breadcrumbs, volatile breadcrumbs at that, all over cyberspace. Yeah, I know. I kinda wish I could smack myself in the back of the head, but I can't reach that far.

So what prompt me to write a blog again? I don't know. Everything changed. Borrowing from Dr. Covey (7 Habits of Highly Effective People), it's a principle based paradigm shift. It's a coreshaker that changes your point of view. It was the loss of my mom.

So now, everything changes, we all tried to heal ourself from the lost. And somehow I manage to patch things up again. Which is great. Late but great. But better late than never, huh Mom?

*sniff*

So yeah, get your foot out of your mouth!

Avoiding complications

Me? I'm a simple girl, who likes things to be simple. To be thrown into a complication is something I totally avoid in all cost. But here I am, bored out of my mind ... and mildly putting myself in danger of that I avoid the most ... complication.

But it smells sooooo tempting, it feels tempting too. In the middle of my boredom state, I feel the rush, the need for excitement, the thrill of seduction. It feels dangerous ... yet feels so right. It's the boredom that got me in ... I'm sure. Definitely the long hours of watching HGTV and yet another rerun of CSI that drove me to this search of thrills. Oh, what crazy thoughts.

It's like standing on the edge of a cliff, with the waves crashing into the wall below. You know the jump will kill you ... or at least, mange you (then kill you). But that is the least of your worries. In fact, there is no worries at all. The sound of the crashing waves just pulls you in. You want to make that jump. You're itching to just plunge yourself into the deep sea. The only thing that stops you is your common sense, tugging from the deep haze in your brain.

...
...
...
...

I really need to find something to do.

Memorial Weekend, 2009

Home alone. Everybody in the building seems to be out of town. I guess I'm the only who is stuck here. Don't you hate it when you have nowhere to go, when everybody else is already gone? I hate it especially now, when my hormone is raging and I'm more sensitive than normal. A friggin' fine time to have a PMS.

I wish I could do another night of sleepover at my friends', but I kinda think they'd want some time alone. Make me wish I have a lover right now, so I can call him and have rabid make out session just to spend the time. How ... pathetic. This isn't good ... I just called my life pathetic. *sigh*

Whatever. I just have to find ways to spend this weekend. Let's make a list, shall we?

1. Clean up the apartment ... channeling the clean freak in me
2. Oogle over Gerard Butler's pictures ... and be lost in his blue eyes
3. Figure out ways to meet Chris Pine ... Paris sounds like a good backdrop
4. Play The Sims ... channeling the control freak in me
5. Level up in Mafia Wars ... wow, really?

Just five? I'm really getting sleepy now. Writings not making any sense at all ...

Must ...
Stay ...
Awake ...

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Reboot

Three years after the last post, I decided to reboot the whole thing. Things have changed. I've experience a great loss and now, life is totally different. Things seem different now. And hopefully for the greater good, I have changed myself.

And so here it is ... the story of my life. Slightly uncensored, hopefully more matured, more hopeful, more insightful ... for the lack of a better term, better.

Hopefully more entertaining too ...