weddings redundacies

I'm happy that my friends are getting married. I'm honored that they deemed me important enough to invite me to share their most joyous day. I wish with all my heart all my happily married friends the best and I mean it.
But fuck, I hate weddings.
Because, on the day of celebrating of relationships, relationships comes into focus, or in my case the lack of.

Because of all the 'when are you getting married?' question
Because if my droll "Tomorrow, actually. Do come." is not enough, I have to resort to a winding, lengthy explanation on my slightly recent single-dom and hoping they'd lose interest halfway. Because trying to assure people that I quite like being unattached is never easy, especially if I have to endure the pitying look they give me.

Because the self-doubt and self-pitying it arouses.
Maybe it's the whole wedding ambiance, but when you start to doubt ever breaking up with your ex, it's never a good thing.
Because, for the briefest moment, you actually wish you are seeing someone so that you wont feel so pathetic that you're also single on top of not joining the marriage bandwagon anytime soon. But then you remembered the farce of a relationship that you had and what it took for you to get out of it. And suddenly you don't feel bad about being single without any immediate prospect of getting married. Because it's better than the alternative.
Because, by now you should know better than to be in a relationship only for the sake of wanting to be in one, instead of wanting to be with someone.

Because you want to be happy for the couple.
And because it's hard to be that when other trivial, insipid things are shallowly factored in. Like who's the most successful, like who lost the most weight, like who remembered what she said about her in 4th form, like who makes the most money. Because despite all, you want to strip everything away and just be happy. For everyone.

Because I hate weddings.
But because I really am happy for my married friends.
And because I can catch up with old friends (friends who doesn't care who makes how much and bloody don't care who got fatter) and I get to be happy with them for each other.
And because I'm reminded of my priorities in life.
Maybe because I hate weddings so much.

what women really want

There's this reality TV show every Thurday, What Women Want. It sucks. I only caught it one time because there was a storm and the cable was out and there was nothing to watch but free tv, so yeah, it blows. But the show, right, did I say it sucks? It's basically about a group of men competing various *imbecilic* tasks every week and well, you know the drill, the pick out one guy to get sent off after meeting a panel of *clueless* judges. I have no idea what the grand prize is, the winner probably gets to marry Hannah Tan, who is the host and I dont mind saying, a total babe with awesome English.
As far as I can tell from that one time I watched, the show title has nothing to do with the guys and the tasks they have to perform. All (I mean, all) of the contestant are obnoxious and full of shit themselves and not even remotely cute. I'm pretty sure at least 2 are not straight.
What do women really want? *the tragzillion dollar proverbial question* Well, I dunno about all women (point number one of what we don't want actually, to be generalised) I'm hoping to shed some light on that because I know that instead of 12 misguided metrosexual guys, I rather have:

1. A reliable pad brand that doesn't leak and not too bulky.
   
2. Hair that doesn't frizz on rainy days and follows your every instruction.
3. The strength to start on dinner after 8 hours of work at the office.
4. Siblings that leave your stuff alone.
5. A good book that doesn't end.
6. More time to hang out with old friends from school, old friends from matrix, old friends from college, old friends from first job.
7. A bra that is as comfortable as the ugly brown one but in the sexy red one's color and lace.
   
8. Shoes sales everyday.
9. The laundry to magically sort, wash, dry and fold itself.
10. Calories free ice cream, desserts, and erm, everything good to eat.
11. Brad Pitt, Karl Urban, Jon Stewart.
12. Show cleavage and not be seen as a slut.
13. To wear heels longer than 3 hours and not wish death upon mankind afterwards.
    
14. Smaller hips.
15. Toilets that dont need monthly scrubbing.
16. To break the glass ceiling.
17. Mom to understand that finding a guy to marry isn't all that there is to life.
18. No PMS.
19. A closet like Oprah.
20. Fuzzy woolly blue leggings.

Give me any of these, anytime over those guys. Anytime.

Resolutions

Lose weight, exercise more, speak more French, be more kind to people, stop calling stupid people stupid to their face, grow a herb tree, be more forgiving, drink more plain water, read more books, learn to swim, watchmore movies, remember more birthdays, join a club, paint room, visit more Disneyland, cease terrorizing waiters at eating joints
(Not necessarily in that order)

New Year Fireworks Minus the New Year

One thing I've always love about the new year or any celebration the country deemed worth of celebrating was the fireworks display. I love fireworks. So, since I was denied of any during the new year, it was awesome when Edward invited me to his Vistana pad last Sunday for this small party celebrating his boyfriend's visit. Gorgeous, gorgeous view from his apartment of the KLCC and the greater KL area and lo and behold, there was this opening ceremony of that pseudo O2 London eye thingy at Tasik Titiwangsa and there were lotsa fireworks.
Pathetic company we were, we were wishing everyone happy new year and singing auld lang syne and everything. As if it was the new year. At 1030 pm on the 7th of January. Bunch of dorks.
Sad thing was, the whole fireworks thingy was all over the place. The first display was at 10 and it stopped after 4 minutes and everyone thought that was it. And suddenly at 1030 pm there was another display and that stopped after a short while and another spurt of fireworks 10 minutes later. It was like some spastic person walked in in the fireworks shed with a torch and hiccuped.
And another sad thing was the display arrangement. As a fireworks connoisseur who have witnessed fireworks by the best, I think it was stupid when they showed the big-big ones first whose thick white mushroom of smoke totally swallowed the smaller fireworks released later. It was like watching fairy lights being lit up under a duvet towards the end. Sad.
I had fun at Ed and Vidal's party though. We got drunk on Vanilla Coke and threw blue cheese cubes at cars 23 floors below. Heheh.
Went home at 11 and in bed by 1130. How more retarded can my social life be?

driving my miss daisy

maybe not daisy. more like the big spiky iron stinging nettle flower.

i think : if you can drive in kl, you can drive anywhere.
qualifier : ok, maybe not anywhere. definitely not in saigon. driving in saigon would be suicidal.
so.
since getting my license last may, i can now say im a somewhat competent driver. no accidents (yet. gawd, touch wood), only one ticket (parking, so it doesnt count) and great drivers run in the family (driving skills are hereditary, its true).
so.
drivers, i think, are all natural cursers. we curse. at other drivers, people, inanimate objects, animate objects, the weather etc. being behind the steering wheels just brings out the best (or worst, you pick) verbal abusers characteristic we have, regardless. i know for a fact that my cousin who cant say 'fart' without blushing can curse a blue (almost black) streak the instant she gets behind the wheel.
so.
while driving my mom to a hotel for a wedding reception earlier this evening, we encountered a stalled car in the middle of the road. it was basically causing slow traffic up to 1km behind it. so, as i was passing the car, i casually yelled (or rather, exclaimed, it was a very mild yell), "oi, put on your hazard light la oi," because his hazard light wasn't switched on and cars from behind keep swerving dangerously close to avoid the stalled car, ergo causing the slow moving traffic in the next 2 lanes.
i have to explain.
most of the time i yell at other drivers from within the comfort (and safety) of inside my car. i don't even wind down the screen. i just yell for the sake of, yelling. to accentuate the situation and the other people's fault. but not to worsen it by letting them actually hear the yelling. most of the time, its just makes me feel better.
so.
when my mom got pissy and started to earnestly lecture me on my unladylike conduct, i get sniffy myself. she pulled out exhibit A which was my aforementioned cousin and her infamous unladylike conduct while driving, labeling it "unnecessary, vulgar and i seriously don't see the whole point of cursing at other people"
ok.
i stated my argument of the merit of cursing in relation of making oneself feel better. i threw in the minor premises of 1)its fun. 2)you do stupid things when you get mad 3)the other wrong people should know when they're wrong. its serious business driving mum, people get killed everyday because stupid people don't get yelled at enough.
she rejected all.
kept going on and on and on that regardless the polite and civilised (her word, not mine) upbringing she gave me, apparently because i curse when i drive, im a heathen and, gasp, a rude driver. like those inconsiderate road bullies.
my mom.
you explain, why does it feel so right and easy to curse around while driving?