I am, therefore I think.

Once again, Dinnie. Once again.

Look, in my opinion, the best thing you can do is find a person who loves you for exactly what you are. Good mood, bad mood, ugly, pretty, handsome, what have you, the right person is still going to think the sun shines out your ass. That's the kind of person that's worth sticking with.

- Mac MacGuff (Juno)

And don't ever settle for anything less, love. You deserve so much more.

I am really looking forward Chinese New Year and what it entails. From the eve’s reunion dinner, where I’ll help up at, and the two days that follows. Visiting the houses of relatives with well-wishes and bearing mandarin oranges. Playing blackjack with the uncles and older cousins. Seeing my two favourite nephews (okay, my only nephews) Brian and Varian, who are both growing up so fast! And also catching up with the aunts and other cousins. It’ll be fun. :D

And let us not forget the food. THE FOOD. My grandmother makes this amazing chicken soup with pig stomach. The best I have tasted.

YAY, CNY! :D :D

“When you live on your own for a long time, however, your personality changes because you go so much into yourself you lose the ability to be social, to understand what is and isn't normal behavior. There is an entire world inside yourself, and if you let yourself, you can get so deep inside it you will forget the way to the surface."

-Donald Miller

Well, the week is almost over.

A rule is a rule is a rule.

Note: Please keep in mind that I am slightly feverish and a bit drowsy from all the medicine I took for being sick. So please forgive the lack of coherency or logic.

Sometimes it's really hard to make sense of the way I see and feel things. So I write. When I write, the feelings are less confusing and most of the time I can see things for what they are, instead of some bizarre concoction that my overactive imagination makes it up to be. It makes my monsters more real, and therefore less scary. I don't know about you, but the invisible monsters are scarier than the ones I can see.

I wish I could be cool, or "chill" about things like most of the people I know about my age. They do their thing and not worry or overanalyse every word or event that cross their paths. They have fun, make friends easily and fall in and out of love like the spring/summer sundresses give way to the coats and boots of fall/winter. I wish I could take relationships, whether the start or end, as easily as they do. I don't think I ever can. I think I feel things more than most people. It is a bit difficult not to get your heart broken when you are surrounded by people who treat things like friendship flippantly.

I have this incredible ability to predict the demise of a relationship before it starts. Before I even go on the first date with anyone, I can picture how ugly the break-up is going to get. The harsh words and throwing of things. And that image in my head  will hang like a dark, ominous cloud over the entire relationship.

Sounds bitter and cynical, don't I? That is just one side of me.

The other side of me, rarely seen by anyone other than the close friends I have, is the exact opposite. That part of me believes naively in fairytales and happily ever afters. That part of me gives and hopes and loves. I guess the reason why this part of me is kept so well is because like a little kid who got disappointed , she hides. She doesn't want to be scared anymore, so she hides behind the shield of indifference and callousness. She hides behind provocation and aggression because she has seen how it gets people things while she asked nicely without any results.

So I guess one can describe me as prickly and irritating and perhaps even slightly obnoxious. The worst part, usually, is when they find out that I actually don't give a fuck.

I mean, seriously. I don't care that the people I don't like detests the way I go on and on about things I like. Why should I?

Anyway, this blog post has gone on for far too long and I don't think there is any point to this all.

Thanks for listening to me.

Live long, and prosper.

It goes on between the two sides.

One that says "Yes, of course, you little freak, of course he doesn't like you. What's going on with you anyway?"

And the other part says "How dare you not like this incredibly awesome specimen of a person."

Oh well.

Haha, fuck. I am so weird.

Note: This would only make some sense if you watch How I Met Your Mother, because I will make many references to the show.

As much as I want to be cool about everything like Robin, I am not. I am Ted Mosby. I go out on dates hoping that this is “the one” and get all dreamy-eyed. I meet someone awesome and I “Ted-out” . Which in other words mean over-analyzing every fucking move or word the person is or is not saying and then come to some very ridiculous conclusions. Using the above-mentioned crazy conclusions, I would make decisions based on completely inaccurate assumptions and fuck everything over.

This has happened, not once but countless times in my dealings with the opposite sex. I’m sure if I learnt how to be cool about things I wouldn’t be where I am now.

I also have the incredible ability to build people up in my head to the point where no matter how awesome they are in reality, they will never measure up to the version in my head. Sometimes I would just go ahead and take them as they are and pretend that maybe someday they would be as awesome as I imagine them to be. That never happens because a guy, no matter how dreamy he may appear to be, is and will never be perfect. That is something I need to learn before I get into another one of my train-wrecks of a relationship.

Come to think of it, I am nowhere near being ready to be able to be responsible for another person’s feelings. I guess I am like Summer. I am not ready to be anyone’s anything. I think of words like girlfriend or wife and I am seized with panic.

The contradicting part is that I am so in love with the idea of love itself. The romance and the thrill of learning about someone new. The first date, the first kiss. The fluttering inside. And don’t even get me started about the feelings of new love. The feeling that life is brilliant and nothing can ever go wrong. Listening to a love song which would usually make you cringe, but in times like these, you actually feel like it is written for you and the new love. Just being so darn happy for no reason at all. And smiling when you receive a good morning text. Smiling when you fall asleep. The grandiose notion of romantic love, yes.

But those feelings never do last, does it? The marriage counselors call it the “honeymoon phase”, and like any honeymoon, you have to come back home sometime. You begin to get used to each other and habit will make you forget the things that made you fall in love. You begin to notice the annoying things that didn’t use to matter. It is incredible that a minute ago, you were willing to give up everything for this one person, and the next, you feel chained and tied down and just struggle to get free.

You might call me cynical, but this is how it always ends. I have no illusions about the fickle-mindedness of men. And by men, I mean both men and women. We make promises we don’t keep, we swear that we will love forever and will die without him/her, and we break their hearts and go on about our daily lives the next. We behave like children, with the hearts of others like our game pieces, carelessly tossing them aside like old toys when we tire of them. And what of our hearts? We were untouched and whole before we first tasted love, and we get tossed so many times, our hearts grow cold and hard each time another flame stops burning.

But nevertheless, like Ted, no matter how many times I get my heart broken, I will always hope that somewhere out there, there is someone like me. Someone who will laugh at my terrible jokes and listen to me go on about my obsession with a time-travelling alien who calls himself The Doctor. Someone whom with I can watch The Lord of The Rings for the hundredth time and not get bored. Someone whom with I can be myself and know that I wouldn’t be loved any less. To be loved for my ridiculous stubbornness and my love with correcting the grammar on printed material.

Isn’t that what everyone really wants? To find a best friend, lover and partner in crime. For life?

True, the world is full of dark things. We get hurt sometimes. But the only way to be sure that you are never hurt is to never allow yourself to be loved. Being loved is being vulnerable. And if I get my heart broken a thousand times, so be it.

I would have awesome blogposts.

(On a non-related note, Ben Gibbard would probably write an awesome Death Cab album after his break-up with Zooey Deschanel.)

Okay, this is one of the mushiest blog posts I have ever written in a long time. I must be going soft. I heard that it comes with age.

And with that, I bid you good day.

Live long and prosper,

Whenever I find myself getting infatuated with a guy and start moaning about unrequited love. I pick up this very essential book that I have had by my side for two years now. I think you probably have heard of it. It's called He's Just Not That Into You. I know I have tweeted short excerpts from the book before, but this blog entry is my explanation on how it has saved me countless hours of waiting by the phone for a call that will never come.

I mean, we are all wonderful, beautiful women who are are awesome in every way. So why is it, that you and I, empowered women who kick ass at our workplaces and friendships, cower in fear when it comes to men?

Personally, I am a very outspoken and bold person, I think. I say what I think and try to be as honest as I can to everyone around me. I go for what I want and those people who get in my way are no longer in my way. But when it comes to a guy that I have had my eye on, I just freeze. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that I don't see myself as someone worthy of someone awesome from the opposite gender. Maybe that is why I fall for all the wrong guys and often wait hours into the morning for a text or a call that never comes.

Anyway, today's not about me. Today is about learning the harsh truth about men that we like but who are just not that into us.

We like to give excuses for the guys in our lives. They don't call or text because they are in busy jobs and can't spare the time. Or they are scared or shy or whatsoever. But the book is brilliant, it is co-written by both an enlightened female and a bad-boy turned loving husband.

Guys are amazing at getting what they want. So, if he is not asking you out or trying to, at least, he is just not that into you. Yes, I know, we wonder, spend hours thinking about the interactions that we have with said guy and wonder if anything could have been better and actually get him to call or ask you out. But Greg, the co-author, is very firm on that. If a guy is not into you, he is not into you.

You are the rule, not the exception, always remember that.

I would like to end this here, because I am getting buzzed with this pathetic can of Budweiser. Have not been feeling any good at all today. so yeah.

peace out.

I think this is awesome. Yay.

Barney Stinson is my new TV show crush at the moment. He is hot, confident and wears a suit. And the best part is that he is a bit of a scoundrel, which really works for me. And that whole lost little boy look that he has when he talks about his father just makes me go all mushy and everything. Awww man, why can't I like well-adjusted and sincere Ted. And also, he has a Stormtrooper in his apartment and an awesomely large TV screen. You know what they say, girls like guys with large screens. Haha, okay. I am almost falling asleep now.

and yes, the knowledge that Neil Patrick Harris is gay dampens things a little. All the hot ones seem to be gay, except maybe pershaps Johnny Depp. Meow.