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June 22, 2005
Dumbing Down
The Urge to Rant
This could have well been a perfect platform for me to rant about things that were and would be happening to me. However, I would let it lapse. The only comfort I have is simply the fact that I have made a choice about this and that is that. The hard part, inevitably, will all be about taking a huge dose of tolerance daily, starting from July, while working hard every Monday to dig my way out of this mess.
If there is any one big lesson I got out of this, it will fall along the lines of never to procrastinate on all things associated with my future, no matter how near or distant things may seem.
Perception can be a dangerous thing after all.
***
Dulled Senses
My senses of another kind have been dulled these days. It is as though if a beauty befitting the Miss Universe title (or Miss Hong Kong) were to appear right in front of me, I would just simply gaze momentarily before looking away. There will be zilch response from my heart, which otherwise would have increased in intensity in terms of the number of beats per minute (or second, depending on how pretty the lass is). Well one pet theory of mine to explain how this can happen to an otherwise hormonally charged male is that perhaps I have a tangible love interest (I hate to term this “a target”). Yet, at this very moment, I can think of none, even though I am still treading on the treacherous road to recovery.
Divinity may still have a say in this, but I think love will probably not knock on my door in the near future. My overly rotund figure will not make me a viable target. My near empty account in the bank will not be me in good stead in the eyes of a lass looking to settling down. The conditions in my cramped three-room apartment will make any decent lass looking for a comfortable life appalled. Getting a car would force me to turn into a cow (i.e., surviving only on grass and water).
The only progress (and this is a small one) I am making is in the area of cutting down the love-handles-excesses by walking home from work. Granted it is nothing to those who pay good money to run on treadmills or even training for a marathon, but a good twenty to thirty minutes walk at least twice a week should go a very long way in preventing my weight from pushing near the big “Nine Zero”.
***
Going the FT way
Talking about the prospects of love, the situation has become so dire in my mother’s eyes that she was now urging me to cast my eyes beyond the fair shores of our island. In her opinion, since it seemed as though I was not making any headway in courting local lasses on our fair island, I should start thinking about marrying someone from Vietnam or China.
Perhaps if I got this suggestion from her many years ago (when I was on the brink of attaining young adulthood), I would have given her a cold and hard stare as an expression of my defiant response. Or I would jokingly dismiss it.
When she threw out this suggestion on Monday morning as I prepared to head out of the house, I simply froze on the spot. I only got out of this state only when she reminded me once again where I was heading, age-wise.
Ladies and gentlemen, forgive me for saying this, but I am inclined to believe that I have reached another new low in terms of finding a life partner in my mother’s eyes.
***
D W’s pet theory of Diminishing chances (of landing a good catch)
I was chatting with someone the other day and I was telling this lady about my current pet phrase, which is how as I got older, the chances of me getting a good catch began to dwindle since most of the good catches would have already been taken by other blokes already.
I backed this statement up by citing a few examples of decent gals around or near my age who were married or were on the way to doing so.
“It is something like those limited edition stuff you see on the shelves of a supermarket”, I said. “As time gets longer, the number of these good stuff slowly decreases, until they become so rare and hard to find that one has to pay a high premium to get them.”
No, I am not comparing lasses, be it good or bad, to those limited edition stuff. I was merely using an analogy to illustrate how seemingly bleak my situation was.
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Now, one of my biggest fears is being found in a situation where I have to face the prospect of singlehood while I draw near towards the big “Four Zero”.
Please tell me if this is not true.
***
Zine Update: Telling Like It Is
On a slightly brighter note, this is the cover design for the upcoming zine.
Do feel free to give me your comments because
(a) Nothing is cast in stone yet, and
(b) You are going to own/read the zine, not me (only if you want to get a copy of it).
Posted by D W at June 22, 2005 03:32 PM
Comments
"My overly rotund figure will not make me a viable target."
There is a fundamental mathematical flaw here. (I'm sorry, this is what engineers do.) Simple statistical probability states that the larger the target, the greater the probability of being shot (by cupid or anyone, really). :)
Also, mature is the new sexy lah. ;)
Posted by: Laughingcow at June 22, 2005 05:18 PM
It's not a bad idea to get a Viet wife. Check out Ch8's 7pm show. The Viet wife=free maid.
Posted by: Kinky Nomadess at June 23, 2005 10:39 AM