Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Unspeakable Intentions

Somehow or rather I always find myself back here to vent out my frustration every time something goes wrong in my love life. Clearly there’s something wrong with me that I can’t seem to classify. What is it about me that men tend to see only as SEX? I don’t think I exude any form of sexual behavior towards people, particularly men. I’m puzzled. Can someone tell me how this came about because I am clueless.

Men in general, don’t really bother to get to know me once they see my well endowed god given non hereditary set of boobies. Men talk to my boobies and not to my face. Is that my problem? My boobs? Okay, in a shallow point of view I am without any doubt not Megan Fox nor am I Roseanne Bar in her fatter years. I’d like to think I’m a little over the plump side but as my girlfriends like to call it voluptuous. I may have some spare tyres that appear to be muffin tops on days when I over indulge.

But CLEARLY, it’s all about my boobies. They are the bane of my existence on this planet humans call earth. I find it derogatory when it becomes the main topic amongst conversations, especially when it is directed at it.

My God.

When will this end? How do I make it crystal clear to people that I am not just about the SEX or Boobs? I have the same wants and needs like any other woman but I cannot fathom all this little distractions I seem to be emanating. Certain friends say I am looking at all the wrong places. Where else do I look? More than half the time, I’m not even looking.

When I’m not looking, I attract unwanted attention. When I’m looking, I don’t attract wanted attention. What gives? It’s frustrating and disappointing. There are times when I think I need professional help. Deep down I want to get over and be done with all the courting, dating, having a relationship and then get married have children because all this finding a soul mate or whatever young people call it these days is really wearing me out. I don’t know how long more I can take all the heartaches and being burnt any more. How many games of love is one allowed to play in a lifetime?

All I can say is sooner or later, these words are going to come out of my mouth.

‘I’m done!’.

I’ve been single like since forever. I cannot remember when was the last time I had a really serious relationship with anyone. As much as I enjoy being single and carefree, deep down the loneliness at times can get the best of me and I turn into this emotional wreck of a roller coaster. I become this very angry and bitchy person, swearing at every situation possible. I turn to work to forget the miserable non-existent love life I’m having.

People and ‘some’ friends are too quick to judge my single life, telling me I’m too fussy or thinks I’m only out there to get into someone else’s pants. All I want is a no-drama, simple and loving relationship with a man who loves me for who I am including all flaws and bad habits. Is that too much to ask for? Seriously?

There are also ‘certain’ friends who was in the same boat as me, now have boyfriends and too in love to ‘recall’ that we were all single once. That we, the leftover singles don’t exactly need to hear all the lovey dovey stories every single time we’re out. Love indeed makes us all blind, so blind as to not realize that your leftover single friends are cringing with envy.

Have I ever wished it was me who fell in love instead of them? Yes.

Like when I recently returned from vacation, the first thing friends would ask if I had gotten laid. I’m think, do I need to get laid every single time I go for vacation? Okay, I digress. I did wonder if I would have at least gotten into some kind of a fling and of course I didn’t. It’s not that I didn’t want to, I did; circumstance didn’t allow me, well, not entirely. Admittedly, I did have a few opportunities alas I chose not to simply because.

Not to mention my mother, being mother and her superstitious mumbo jumbos. Just last weekend, I was driving to the city with her for some shopping when all of a sudden she said this me, ‘It must be your bed. It’s used. That’s probably why you can’t get a boyfriend. Don’t you have money? If not, I’ll buy you one.’ I nearly drove off the freaking road! My mother is losing it. Seriously!

Yes, it feels heavenly to be in love and to be needed. I have been there once (or twice) but I’ve not been there since. It has been THAT long since I’ve been courted, I can assure you. Therefore, I figure that I’d probably be like a baby learning how to walk when it comes to dating. Quite unnerving when I think about it. Sometimes I just wonder why? Am I not attractive enough? Am I too fat? I’ve seen fat girls with hot boyfriends. If they have that, why can’t I? Do I have ‘JUST FRIENDS’ or ‘SEX ONLY’ written permanently on my forehead?

It feels like I have to compete with other women or younger girls wherever I go. Has dating become a commodity trade?  You have this quality. Check. You don’t have this quality. Uncheck. Am I not good enough to be a wife? Am I not dating material? What? Tell me.

I’m friendly. I hang out with the boys. I drink. I burp. I cry when watching sad movies. I get angry if you pissed me off. I fart when I need to. I’m easy going. I have a little ‘drama queen’ personality. Who doesn’t? Everyone is taught to accept the person as he/she is, so why can’t one guy (that’s all I ask for) accept me for who I am?

Maybe, just maybe my superstitious mother is right. Maybe it’s my used bed.

This content is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

My Sister’s Keeper


Footsies, originally uploaded by ashley bee’s old account..

Every year since 1998, I will try to do a little tribute to my sister. Recently, I was back in my mum’s hometown for a short trip with my family. I really wanted to visit my sister’s grave but unfortunately the gates to the cemetery was locked. According to my mum, it’s always been locked. I was not a happy camper.

Every year my mum is being locked out of the cemetery during all souls day. I will make a point to contact the cemetery keepers to make sure family and relatives are able to visit their loved ones whenever they want to. When people die, it doesn’t mean that they need to be locked away from the world. They are very much alive in our hearts and memories. If you had someone you loved very much died, you’d understand why I’m upset about it.

This is the 11th year since my sister’s passing and we all still miss her dearly. I didn’t intend to post any photos of her, just this two pairs of very sisterly feet (please excuse the toe nails. lol!), which represents her and myself. Heh. I’m sentimental like that. Even though we used to argue a lot, my sister takes care of me well and spoils me rotten whenever she traveled by buying me loads of gifts.

We have this ritual of calling each other every other day (since she lived out of town) with stories and the hottest gossips. I miss that. Apart from the memory of her, there are her kids. The two boys whom when she left was only 2 & 3 years old. Now 13 & 14 years old respectively, they’ve grown to be good helpers at home and naughty twos at that, aren’t all boys are. Both of them reminds me of my sister in many ways and I love them to bits.

My sister,

Sisters don’t need words. They have perfected a language of snarls and smiles and frowns and winks – expressions of shocked surprise and incredulity and disbelief. Sniffs and snorts and gasps and sighs – that can undermine any tale you’re telling. ~Pam Brown

xox

Lead My Way


Lead my way, originally uploaded by Camila Bibas.

I remember when I was a child, I would constantly hide behind my dad or mum because I was extremely shy (not to mention anti-social). I especially loved it when my dad carried me. I felt so protected and safe.

My father is a strict but extremely social man who has many friends. They enjoy his company, always calling him out for any social gatherings or parties. He smoked and drank like any man would. But with me, he was just being dad, so I did what any teenager would do, I rebelled. He is pretty hardcore but he never lifted a finger on me, hence whenever he’s angry at me, he’d tell me mum and she’d tell me. I just thank my lucky stars he was never in the military!

My father is the kind of man stood by his principles and by that I mean, really sticking to it. The lowest point between us was when he found out about something that happened to me (lowest point of my life) and sat in the living room waiting for me to come home at 4.00am in the morning. Again, he never yelled or lifted a finger. He quietly asked me what happened and I sobbed, telling him everything. After that things eventually got better between us, although there are time he would have his moods but I got used to it.

Growing up, even though I had many rifts with my father, I always remember that he loves working with his hands; he had a knack for it. He was super creative. His carpentry work was immaculate and many of our furniture at home is done by him, even my wardrobe and bed which many of my friends have expressed envy over.

He still is the man of the house although things are different now. You can rarely hear the sound of wood being cut with a saw or nail being knocked on wood. He was recently diagnosed with psoriasis arthritis. It’s weird not seeing my dad doing his usual dumb bell lifts or using his overalls and tools. There are times when I feel so helpless not able to help him. Arthritis is an incurable disease and he has to live with it for the rest of his life.

Never in a million years I would imagine this would befall my dad. But whatever it is, I got his back covered.

Dad, your guiding hand on my shoulder will remain with me forever. ~Author Unknown

xox

It Takes Two To Tango


The Last Dance, originally uploaded by ♥ThumBelina♥.

This blog is definitely becoming a dumping site for my roller coaster love life. I choose to dump whatever that’s not being said to anyone else here. I’m not even sure if it’s a good or bad thing to do considering I can’t make up my mind about men; one minute is this guy and the other the next. Am I THAT fickle?

I’ve noticed a trend going on here that whenever I blog, it has to always have something to do with my love life. Needless to say, I can sense eyes rolling about and mumbles saying, ‘what is up with Dee and her never ending love drama!’

Believe you me, I constantly wonder why I get myself into nonsensical, no future relationships that always ends up me feeling shit about myself; which I’ve happily dwelled into in a few months ago. I had gotten myself into an extremely complicated situation where you can already guess who ended up depressed and shitty and thinking that she can never find the love of her life.

While everything was going ‘great’, but I couldn’t help but constantly think of the consequences and karma that will eventually bite me in future or my next life. I didn’t want to talk about him here because the blogging world is afterall a very small, if you think about it. You never know a friend of a friend of a friend who knows this person is reading your blog and bam! All hell breaks loose.

I learned to be utterly paranoid and not to mention hesitant. I’ve never been either of those two and to think that it preoccupied most of my time then; eventually became a little much to handle. Despite having to enjoy it but one thing is for sure, I couldn’t share every single detail to any Tom, Dick and Harry nor can I publicly announce how I felt or what I went through. It was hard enough considering almost every one of my friends were against it and there wasn’t really anyone I could’ve expressed or shared my excitement with.

That was one of the hardest relationships I had to go through in my life time.

I decided I had to eat my words about ‘condemning’ certain people in society who had to go through what they’re going through. Now that I was somewhat in similar situation, it’s hard not to be put heart into it. Damn me for being so judgmental before. Situations as such has long without exception been chided upon and I realize that friends were just looking out for my well being.

We eventually went our separate ways, although we still keep in touch as friends. I was never one to concede to this kind of act but after having experience it myself, I truly take my words back. I’m not implying that everyone should give it a try but try to understand the basis of the situation. Feelings cannot be helped no matter what.

Do like l would always do, listen to both sides of the story.

xox

Fall Out


kokoro, originally uploaded by miche|a.

There’s so many things I want to express yet I can’t seem to find the words. Maybe I’m afraid that tears will flow uncontrollably because I DO NOT want to shed a tear. I’m angry. I’m disappointed. It takes a lot to pissed me off (although it’s totally opposite on the road) however, we all have limits and I think I’ve reached mine.

It may be coward of me not to speak rudely or say what’s on my mind especially towards a friend and as much of a bitch I am at times, this all proves to be extremely difficult. I am one who always make sure I don’t hurt my friends in any way possible. Right now, I’m at wits end towards a friend and I really dread to tell this friend off for fear of ruining this friendship.

I have many friends but only a handful whom are close; those I share my darkest and deepest secrets with. I cherish friendship as much as I treasure my family. I care a whole lot for them and I’d go to the end of the earth for them whenever they’re in trouble, sad or angry to make them feel better. But there are times I wonder, how far should I be giving. I’m never one who asks for anything in return but for their friendship and gratitude. Some friends tell me, I give way too much and get shit in return. As stubborn as I am, I give them the benefit of the doubt and in the end, I’m the one who gets hurt. Never in my life have I ever experience a fall out with friend and I sure hell do not want to start.

I need a peace of mind and I need it fast before I completely go ballistic. How do I even begin a conversation without ending up in a huge argument? I am old enough to handle situations as such but honestly, I don’t need it right now; not like this. There are times when I wish I didn’t have friends although I don’t do well being lonely. How ironic.

I’d like to think that this is just a phase…but then again, what if it’s not?

xox