Monday, September 16, 2013

midnight texts

words escape me but all I want to do is talk about you. 

Saturday, November 5, 2011

who's sorry now

I wonder what it says about me that I think I will get the most emotional support here, where hope obviously does not spring eternal. Maybe if I write, the consternation will arrive in a place far off; not present itself warm, wet and salty on my cheek. Ah, but alas, no such luck.

Wednesday, June 29, 2011

on feeling lost

again, another storm brewing. this time already at someone's expense. trying to dig deep here, to figure out what the hell is going on. torn between wanting to know what is obviously not right and being too afraid to delve deeper than I'm used to. sleep debt paid. so one factor crossed off the list of anything. done with school for the next few months and not an ounce of freedom felt. perhaps it's biochemical? most of everything is, isn't it? psychological? perhaps i'm addicted to the sadness. but then, no, that's just an excuse. for the first time it's clear that this life is mine, but even so, not really. no more cookie cutter options. for all my being me, i'm so generic. i'm you. i'm everyone. i'm no one. 

Sunday, June 19, 2011

The Mean Girl Complex

Should I be worried that this hits quite close to home?


The Mean Girl Complex by Caroline Washington


Someone once told me “you know why you’re mean? Because you think being called nice is an insult.” Isn’t it? Isn’t that what you say about someone when their personality is so unremarkable that, when pressed for an opinion, all you can think of to say is that they’re nice? Isn’t that the polite way to tell your mother that you had the most uninteresting date ever with the guy she set you up with? “He was nice.”
All too often, after I’m safely past the first few impressions with someone, they will get too drunk and rhetorically ask, “can I tell you something?” which inevitably follows with the confession “I thought you were such a bitch when we first met!” After years of reluctantly entertaining this conversation, I’ve learned it mostly has to do with my face. I have that perma-judgmental mean girl face – whether I’m actually judging you, trying to focus in a meeting, or find you really hot.
The mean girl complex comes with a love hate relationship with the label. Some days I accept it with pride and a sinister grin, but more and more I resent it as the lazy label that it is. If a “mean” person is conventionally offensive, selfish, and malicious, then sure I am mean some days, like most people, but those are not traits that define me.
After recently being indicted as a mean girl for telling someone I didn’t want to meet their friend because her favorite artist was Fergie, I thought more about my mean girl label. I realized that some of the traits that do define me are too often conflated with “meanness”.
I’m picky about the company I keep. I’ve been on this earth for 20 something years now, and I know that a guy who texts me at 8am the morning after we met saying, “thinking about your smile… J” is just not a guy I’m interested in. On a Friday night, I’d rather lie and say my parents are in town than go to a club for a girl’s birthday who I went to the beach with once in college. Is that mean? No. Antisocial? Probably.
I’m cynical. I know lots of genuinely nice people, some close friends. But I probably know more nice opportunists. That part-time friend who didn’t show up to your birthday but then wants to catch up because “it’s been like forever!!!” and casually mentions over drinks that she wants you to submit her resume to your boss. She’s not a mean person, but I’ve come to expect a lot of “niceness” to be motivated by self-interest. I’m guilty of it too. And actually we all are – it’s human nature.
I’m candid. I say what I think. Sometimes in regard of your feelings, sometimes not. I tend to have either the sarcastic genre of candor that amuses people, or the “thank me later” genre that burns now, but makes sense later. But my intentions are (mostly) pure. If I tell you that you have bad taste in men, it’s probably because you keep picking guys that only call you after 1am, because you keep answering.
I’m competitive. I like to get ahead. If someone at work is going out of their way to make me look like a slacker, I’ll retaliate in my own special way. And sure, if it looks like I’m competing for a guy’s affection, I’m prone to make passive aggressive insults about other girls in his company, and brainstorm creatively insulting epithets with my friends behind her back. Most women do this; it’s just part of the emotional hygiene of being a 20 something.
I don’t use exclamation points without irony. Too many people use too many exclamation points. And too many people get insecure if you don’t reciprocate. If you ask me out and text me “so excited for dinner!!!” I’m likely to respond something short like, “me too. See you in a bit.” The absence of an exclamation point, or three, does not undermine my excitement – but the conversation might.
When people call me “mean”, they tend to deliver the news in this apologetic tone like there are only a few of us out there – like I’m part of some minority group. Like somehow my cynical humor and punctuation preferences marginalize me. There still seems to be some pervading myth of this species of “nice” people who walk around smiling, emanating their bright aura of magnanimity. From what I’ve noticed, it’s an endangered species – at least in New York.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

who run the world?

What with all of thisthis and this incredulous nonsense making the headlines everyday, I thought we'd put up some female empowerment stuff here, so that we all remember that not all of the world is insanely stupid. :)


No need introduction all lah, this lady.


and an old one. still jaw-dropping 4 years later. missB, why you so sexy?

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

hist rheat itlls flees loena

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Friday, April 22, 2011

it's important.

This feeling again. Well, feelings, I've just got one thing to say to you. GO AWAY.
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