A guys’ girl

Another resurrected blog post. Why? Because I've lost my muse and (momentarily) the will to write, dammit.

Back when I was sixteen I was crazy in love with a guy in my computer class. He was kinda cute, intelligent and had the bestest smile in the world. We spent a lot of time together, hanging out. So much so that everyone else thought there was something there. I was starting to hope too, but that all came to a crashing halt the day he thumped me on the back and said, “you’re just one of the guys aren’t you?”

I’ve never been a girly girl. When I was small I had my mum cut my hair real short and pretended to be a boy. My father in his infinite wisdom never had our ears pierced so that really helped. Needless to say that at the age of six, George from the Famous Five was my hero. My best friend was my same-age-cousin Chamara and we spent every school holiday either playing Journey to the Centre of the Earth or Star Trek (his slightly overweight elder sister unknowingly filled in as the random alien of the day).

One school holiday I begged my father to make me a sword and a cricket bat; which he did, carved with his own hands out of random pieces of wood. He made me a set of bow and arrows and taught me to play darts and box (the latter consisted mostly of punching walls for the lack of anything else to punch).

I don’t think I ever entirely outgrew my boy gene. And I’m glad. It’s nice to be on the inside.

Dream Big

I wrote this the morning after we won the world cup in ‘96. I remember waking up and thinking, I can’t risk forgetting this; scrambling around for pencil and paper and scribbling like mad. (It’s corny as heck but hey, I was young so cut me some slack). I unearthed it recently while rooting through some old files and, well, it seemed the appropriate time to type it out and upload. If nothing else, the bad writing should count for some lolz. :)

The place was Lahore, the day Sunday

When the lions and the Kangaroos came out to play

Imran gave the pitch report, the coin was tossed

Arjuna won and poor Taylor lost

In his usual calm manner Arjuna said “we prefer to chase”

So to bat Taylor and Mark Waugh made great haste

They batted pretty steadily till Vaas bowled to Waugh

Waugh hit – Sanath caught – the crowd went “ahhhh!”

Taylor gnashed his teeth but thought “never mind,

Ponting will come and thrash some Lankan hide”

Little did he know that his turn would come next

Aravinda bowled and Jayasuriya did the rest

Bowled by De Silva Ponting was the next to go

Warne came in next and joined Steve Waugh

Kalu and Dharmasena were not daunted

Warnes was stumped – something he never expected

Stuart Law came next and settled down

The next wicket he hoped wouldn’t be his own

Dharmasena bowled to Steve Waugh

A cry of “allapaang” and Aravinda caught

Beven walked in while Law walked out

When Aravinda, a rash shot by Stuart caught

Healy came next but Aravinda smashed the stumps

This must have left Taylor quite down in the dumps

Beven and Paul R put up a brave front

And for a total of 241 the game came to a halt

After the break the Aussies came on to field

Strong, intimidating, they looked a tough side to beat

Sanath and Kalu was first out to bat

A rash dash and Sanath’s wicket fell flat

“The Guru” came next, looking pretty solid

What happened next – on a Lankan win – nearly put the lid

Romesh hit a shot off Glen McGrath

It was caught by Mark Waugh who stood right in its path

Aravinda – our black knight – was next at the crease

The bowlers tried hard but he played them with ease

On or off it made no difference

To hit a straight boundary was his preference

On they battled, this solid pair

(the Aussies were at a loss without umpire Hair)

Warne came on to bowl to prove that he’s the greatest

But Gura proved instead that he was indeed overrated

Belted a six and a four in one over

But alas he was bowled when Mark Waugh took over

Then Captain Arjuna (may his tribe increase)

Came to take his turn at the crease

They batted – the Captain and his Deputy

Showing the world that they knew their duty

Boundaries were made galore

In a superb innings at Lahore

Aravinda made a gallant century historic

(a task only equaled by Viv’ Richards and Clive Lloyd)

Then Arjuna, dashing Australia’s hopes

Made the winning run with a hit to the ropes

A fabulous team effort by our heroes in blue

Cheers boys - you made out dream come true!

Happiness (or, Why Nature Wants Us to Fuck Other People)

Wisdom that visited me at 2AM – it’s time to stop believing in the happily ever after; at the most all we can hope for is the happy right now.

And actually, I think it IS true. We spend our time looking for happiness on a grand scale and because of this we often disregard the moments. I don’t think anyone has ever experienced unconditional happiness. It’s just not possible. There is no happily ever after. The most we can strive for is companionship ever after. And companionship doesn’t necessarily have to come from one source.

Is this why relationships fail? Because we look for that one person to fulfill ALL of our needs? And then when they don’t deliver, we get disappointed, disinterested and start looking all over again. And the cycle continues; the pursuit of perfection or near perfection. And when we encounter someone who comes close to our idea of near perfection, we latch on.
This is what I like to call the blind-as-the-proverbial-bat stage of a relationship. This is when we call up our friends and say “he/she is amazing. I can’t believe I’m this lucky”. Later on, you begin to realize that most of the characteristics that you found attractive in this person are not permanent. It was just nature’s way of making us conform to the other person’s expectations. Nature, you see, doesn’t believe in long term, monogamous relationships. Nature just wants us to stay attracted long enough to procreate (nature can be a bit of an asshole that way).

So the longer you stay in a relationship the harder is it to maintain this level of compatibility. Somewhere along the line we see each other’s flaws, and here we come to the why-the-fuck-have-you-changed stage of the relationship. We claim the other person has ‘changed’ and we demand the person we fell in love with back instead of this imposter. Truth is, this is who he/she was all along. We just didn’t see it that way. And there’s no way on earth you’re getting the blind-bat stage partner back. Because he doesn’t exist – nature was just pulling the blinkers on you.

At this point there’s two ways to go. Option one is to man up, admit that you were wrong and see whether it’s possible to tolerate this (somewhat) new person –warts and all. Option two is to confess that the relationship has officially jumped the shark, say bye bye, pack up your blinkers and move on.

If I seem to have digressed from the whole happiness thing, well, I haven’t really. I mean it’s all kind of linked to what I was trying to say in the first place. Happiness should be taken from the moments. You know those short bursts of warm fuzzy happiness? Hang on to them, remember them, because that’s all you ever get; a long series of random moments of happiness.

Musings (8)

If whilst trying to pick yourself up and move on you should trip and fall flat on your face again, try crawling for a while. The view is kinda interesting from down here.

numb

poked some holes in a wall to let the sunlight through

felt good

warm

alive

thought that the going would finally be good

but

hey

that’s life

takes you by surprise

trips you up

fell down

face first

found the bricks that i’d laid down

put them back

shut you out

feel my way along the grainy surface

that familiar enclosure

no more sunshine

at least not for now

close my eyes

submit to numbness

the calm

before the crash

silent screams

Does it ever cease, this haunting

The creak of the gate that midnight brings

specters rolling in

never strong enough to keep them at bay

poking their dusty fingers into the recesses of your mind

taunting, leering ghosts of memories

crush them underfoot yet the mist comes creeping through

turn your head towards the light

but it’s just a fading glow

overcome, swept away

carried off in their withering arms

rustling whispers, silent screams

demanding the sacrifice of will

crushed

defeated

puppet on a string

dance to their cacophonous melody

ever dancing, never still

Flutter Flutter, Blink

Flirting. I have never been and ever will be any good at it. It’s supposed to come naturally to every female but me? I wouldn’t even know where to start.

My earliest attempt as I recall would have been when I was around 4 years old. I was in nursery, and I really wanted to make friends with the boy sitting next to me. So to get his attention I stuck a pencil in his ear. He didn’t appreciate the gesture and complained to the teacher. Then again, nursery wasn’t the best time of my life. One time, I decapitated a doll and there was such a fuss made by all the twittering girls in the playhouse that I went home feeling like a murderer. For days I was shunned by everyone. No, nursery wasn’t a good time.

Anyway, where was I? oh yes, the flirting. So, yeah, how exactly is one supposed to go at it? From what I’ve seen girls do, there are varied approaches to the art of flirting.

1. The dumb blonde routine – act like you can’t tie your shoelaces or do simple math and the boys come a-flocking. It’s like they have an idiot radar.
2. The damsel in distress routine – pretend you need help with everything. Give out the “help help I’m too dainty and fragile” signal and there they’ll be pouring your drink and opening doors and driving you around while you go shopping for shoes.

Okay so I can only think of only two, but still, those two kind of cover the bases of all things that attract the guys. They like being needed. They love to complain about being needed yet they thrive on it. Take the neediness away and they will go in search of an even more helpless girl.

Well, I just can’t do it. I mean, yes, having a knight in shining denim* around would be nice. But I’ll be damned if I’m going flutter my ill-proportioned eyelashes and ask for help. Ask me to go talk to a boy and I’ll probably start making self deprecating jokes, discuss what movies we’ve each seen, join him in admiring Anne Hathaways boobs and end up being his best friend. And one day he will come running up to me and say “I met this awesome chick today.” And wham! I’m officially one of the guys.

So there we are. Right about now, the pencil stabbing thing is beginning to sound like a good idea…

(* can't take credit for "the knight in shining denim". stole it from a book.)

Dixie Porn

(Works better if you read everything in a southern accent in your head)

Set: Interior of a typical southern villa where the daughter of the house comes across their local handyman fixing the kitchen shelves.

Big Bosomed Southern Belle: “Oh, Billy-Bob I do like the way you swing your hammer! It’s just like mamma said, you’re so good with your hands!”

Robust Broad-Chested Black Dude: “uh-huh” (keeps hammering)

Big Bosomed Southern Belle: “For sure Billy-Bob, I do like the way you hammer them nails in. Makes my heart fair skip it does.” (Places hand on ample (now heaving) bosom)

Robust Broad-Chested Black Dude: “uh-huh” (pauses hammering to surreptitiously check out heaving bosom)

(Big Bosomed Southern Belle leans over worktable. Ample bosom is now working overtime)

Big Bosomed Southern Belle: “Oh i like a man who knows how to use his tools, I surely do!”

Robust Broad-Chested Black Dude slowly puts hammer down, turns, sweeps everything off the work table, picks up Big Bosomed Southern Belle and plonks her down.

Big Bosomed Southern Belle: “Oh, Billy Bob!”

(end scene)

Light

Lit a candle in the rain

watched the spluttering spark fight it out

Cupped my hands around it

the warmth, however slight cradled my fingers

It brightened up the gloom

cast the shadows to a corner

It wasn’t a fight that was to be won

It wasn’t a struggle to survive

It was just a moment, a dim yet warming, wavering light

a flame to be treasured in its short span of life

Light a candle in the rain

you know it’s going to go out sometime soon

But then

you can always strike another match, right?

An Ode to the Forlorn

Why do I care why do I even try

Why do I need to even wonder why

Knowing that it ended even before it began

Why do I feel let down, why is it so hard to understand

Shake it off, lift my head

try to walk away

The need in me, the want in me

begs me to stay

Tell myself to be strong

Easier said than done

I’ll understand if you explain

I’ll be man enough to take the pain

But don’t go away and not tell me why

Don’t run away without the clichéd goodbye

You might look away but you’ll see me out of the corner of your eye

Tell me, in the breath of the wind do you hear my soul sigh

once

there I was, legs firmly wrapped around a fantasy

here I am reeling from it still

once in a while life hands you a moment

i'll use it

live it

love it

but walk away when the truth sinks in

no regrets

no half baked lies

no surrender to the dark

in the moment; shine

walk away, head held high

Musings (7)

Life isn't for the faint of heart or the morally just. If you keep believing life's not going to unexpectedly kick you in the ass then you're going to get up off the ground wondering what the hell just happened. Better to be prepared to kick back. At least you get a fair fight that way.

The Visitor

This is it, I’m done

Close the book start again

Wait for the off chance that I might be proven wrong

Hold my breath? not that stupid my friend

Reality comes a banging

Beating on the door

Reluctantly let him in, offer him a drink

He puts his feet up on my coffee table

Sips his G & T and gives me a wry grin

Beaten again? He asks in that snide way of his

I shake my head, offer him a coaster

Not this time I say, I haven’t fallen down yet

You were here when it started

We made the bargain

I don’t need you here smirking with your offering of pity

There’s the door, see yourself out

I gesture with my head

He puts his drink down, spares me a smile

I’ll be back says he, doffing his hat

You’ll be seeing me when you admit the truth to yourself

Then he’s gone, the ice still melts in his drink

I sit where he sat, waiting for the knocking to start again

The Lost Clause

Good evening and welcome to news at six.

This year kids around the world might face disappointment on Christmas morning. Mr. Kris Kringle aka Santa Claus has been reported missing. A distraught Mrs. Kringle told reporters today that for a while she has been noticing certain erratic behavior in her husband. In the end, she had enlisted the services of a private detective, but so far had received no news as to his whereabouts. The elves have been sent around on a worldwide hunt and the reindeer are scouting from the air for any signs of the beloved old man.

Wait, this just in: Mrs Kringle is currently on a phone call with our studio executives and she has said she received a telegram from the detective she had hired. We are waiting for her to fax it to us. Ah, here it is (thank you Trisha).

And it says: “ Santa Claus in rehab; too many Ho Ho Hos.”

Conversations with myself - part 1

“What’s wrong”, I ask myself.

“I’m not quite sure” I answer. “There’s this pent up raw mass of emotional impedimenta just waiting to get out”.

“Oh, is that it?” I say, “why didn’t you say so? And why couldn’t you use simpler words? Seriously, raw mass of emotional impedimenta? Why couldn’t you just say I feel kinda fucked up? That explains the situation just as well”.

“Well,” I reply, having thought about it for while, “it just sounds more potent, put like that y’know? It makes me sound deep”.

“Makes you sound like a proper twat it does” I say, sneeringly.

“Fine fine, I admit it. I do tent to overuse the language a bit. But sometimes when what I need to say has to be veiled so that the people they’re intended for don’t get it, it has to be done”.

“Hmmm. I get what you mean. But when you talk to me, I would appreciate you ditching the flowery language – just say it like it is, no need to gift wrap it”.

I smile.

I Return the smile.

“Anyway, so that’s how it is. Do you think it’ll get better anytime soon?”

“I dunno”, I reply. “But here’s the thing, as long as you continue to be this self absorbed you wont be doing anyone any good”.

“I know. And I’m going to drag myself out of this. Soon. I have to.”

“You will.” I say, understanding full well what I’m talking about. “Sometimes you need to be a little self indulgent and wallow. It’s all part of the process.”

“It just sucks, y’know.”

“I know.”

I sit back, feeling slightly better for the conversation, the company and the realization that no matter what, I can always count on myself to dig me out of whatever hole I’m in.