Saturday, April 19, 2003

06:26 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

beating myself up for a minute

This I always knew and I do my best to overcome it.

Yet, being an oblivious, clueless, inconsiderate idiot, though I am oh-so sensitive to my own bloody feelings on my blog, I more often than not, have other people's feelings and opinions fly over my head.

Until, oops, I've trodded on their heads once to often and they're ready to kill me.

Sorry, too oblivious, clueless, inconsiderate, and idiotic to understand warnings veiled as hints, demands veiled as requests, and all other nice social politeness.

So I'm an oblivious, clueless, inconsiderate idiot with period pain, and I'm attached to another oblivious, clueless idiot who I can't call right now, though I'm upset. Why? Because the oblivious, clueless idiot I'm attached to left his cellphone with me.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030419

Friday, April 18, 2003

02:11 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

my most emotional topic: money

Dinner tonight cost RM80 and after that we went to Swenson's and Tariq spent another RM50. On Monday, he bought me a pair of Reeboks. You guess how much they cost. Yes, it's nice to have a boyfriend with money.

Money is such an emotional issue. People want to pretend that it's a logical, rational issue, but in truth, it's emotional. Don't let a man buy you things, or you'll be obligated to him. Provide for your family, or you'll feel a failure. Attempt day-trading on a volatile day and shave several years off your life.

Some people would be appalled by the fact that I practically live off my boyfriend, financially. There are various reasons to be appalled. One, could be because when a man spends his money on you, you're expected to be obligated. Another, is because men and women are equal now, and I should be independent and not living off a man.

It was easier when we first dated. We both had the same amount of allowance, but he got his monthly, while I got mine weekly. We'd live off his allowance in the beginning of the month, buying big purchases, and then live off my weekly allowance at the end of the month. A simple system.

When Mom came back, however, she removed the allowance system. Now, I get a RM50 note whenever I ask after finishing the previous RM50. This means, she keeps track of exactly how much I'm spending. While Tariq got an annual allowance meant for his living expenses in London. This means it's a huge amount that makes very little dent when he comes back to Malaysia. Don't forget all his wealthy and generous relatives.

So I live off Tariq while he's here.

My first boyfriend was definitely of less money than I am. It was definitely an uncomfortable situation. Most likely because I was sixteen then, without the communication skills I have today. I felt uncomfortable discussing money with him. I didn't want to raise the issue that I was richer than him. I also didn't find him an important enough person to waste my money on. I was stingy with my money then. For my mother's birthday, I cut up tons of hearts and put 'em in a cheap box. All my money went to books and comics in those days.

I have always felt financially equal with Tariq. Most likely, my family is more well off than his immediate family. Mom did work for five years in New York, after all. His extended family, however, is very wealthy, while mine were of peasant stock, and possibly his family has assets I know nothing of. Who cares? As I've said, I feel financially equal.

Money is important to me. I'm not sure why. I only know that I got really mad when I learnt that Dad spent his money on someone else's children and not on his own flesh and blood. Never mind that we have Mom's gobs of money to enjoy. I get really mad when Tariq wants to spend his money on someone other than his family, himself or me too (this includes my own father). Jealous. Maybe, somewhere deep down, I associate money with the more affectionate emotions.

It's not the amount that I care about. It's what the person does with it. People I love must pour some my way, and accept that if they pour it some other way, I will feel jealous. I would rather they have no money to pour, than to have them pour it to people I see as my rivals for my loved ones' affections. It is a small and petty attitude, and I try to keep it under control most of the time.

Why am I so mercenary? It is not because of greed. I give out money as easily as I get it. (This of course means that if I'm not getting money easily, I don't give it out easily either!) I cannot figure it out.

This is not a matter of how I think. This is something I feel. When I think of money, I don't think of possessing it, but of how it's used, distributed, and gained. Money is important. Money is necessary. Money means safety, independence, security, care, affection and identity. When Tariq does not spend his money on some other girl, it means he cares about me. When I have RM50 in my wallet, that's security for me. When I stole money from a guy and put it in my bra and dared him to take it out from my bra, that was identity and affection.

Tonight, I got money from Mom. I think tomorrow, I'll buy Tariq a new earring.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030418

Thursday, April 17, 2003

04:55 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Sleeping with Tariq

There's just something about Tariq's smell that acts like the best sleep inducer in the world. His smell is enough to make the world the most comfortable bed to sleep in.

Since, I sleep with him in broad daylight, I find that I cannot sleep during my nights.

Sigh. I will miss him when he goes.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030417

Tuesday, April 15, 2003

11:53 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

Without a Topic

That sort of thing, however, is not my usual blog topic. I don't do the what-I-did-today type of blog. I enjoy reading such blogs as much as I enjoy reading any other blog (it highly depends on grammar), but I, personally, don't do it. I did it in my previous blog, but in the end, I discovered that I kept having to leave blanks in my activities. Sometimes, I couldn't say anything about the whole day.

Worse were those days when all I did was stay in my bed. Now that's a really boring blog entry. "I slept today. I woke up, and took the nearest romance novel, and read it. When I finished that one, I took the next romance novel and read it. When I got hungry, I opened the Tupperware of cookies next to my bed. Next thing I know, it's sunset. So I ate some melatonin, and went back to sleep."

Oh God, the exaggeration of my lifestyle makes me feel depressed. Yet, I confess to spending twenty-four hours glued to the chair in front of my computer.

So I was very please about the idea of picking one single topic and babbling about it. Unfortunately, I could not think of a topic today.

So this entry will have to suffice.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030415

Monday, April 14, 2003

09:22 p.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

screw the body clock

Why is it easier to screw up my body clock so I stay up all night and sleep all day, than to fix it so I sleep all night and stay up all day?

Having stayed awake for over thirty-six hours, I am very glad to go to bed now.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030414a

Monday, April 14, 2003

12:15 a.m. Kuala Lumpur Standard Time

I don't wanna go to School!

I dread it partially.

The reason is not for the amount of work I would have to suffer, or dealing with irritating bimbos with a smile. I am too much a strange person with very strange phobia. (Yes, I meant phobia in the plural, and not phobium in the singular -- phobia is greek, right?)

I partially dread going back to school, because I actually handed in the Public Relations assignment and I managed to answer every question in the Consumer Behavior test. Yes, I did say I am strange. I will tell you that my emotions have a strange logic of their own, so please understand that my following explanation may not be logical in any normal sense of the idea that is logic.

I am proud of having accomplished good work the past week. The problem, is that now, I must accomplish more good work. When I do good work, stuff I can be proud of, I keep thinking that such good work are flukes. Accidents I somehow managed not through my own abilities, but by luck bestowed upon me. So, now I feel pressure to repeat this luck, and since luck is not something I can control, I feel dread.

It is only partial, however, because I am aware (barely) that I am very intelligent, hard working when I'm not afraid of failing to repeat flukes, skilled, and supported by good friends and family. I know (somewhat) that the test and the assignments were accomplished through these assets of mine, and luck only played a part that could not have been played without my assets in play.

So, I am learning to overcome silly phobia. I will eventually, I hope, be able to go to college, with normal dread of waking up in the morning. No more dread of screwing up my life by the flukes I seem to live by.

Be honest.
Link to the start of entry: #20030414