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Yourself or someone like you.
Before I get to that, I'd like to talk about Season 8 of American Idol. I'd like to announce to everyone that I don't care about American Idol this season. I know I'm supposed to like Adam Lambert because David Cook is my husband, but I'm sorry, he's a poor copycat of my darling David and therefore I don't care. I don't care for his crappy affectations and his dramatics and I definitely don't care for his over-the-top singing. He's a non-entity to me and I'm so unimpressed, I can't even begin to describe how unimpressed I am. The moment he said that thing about reworking Cher's "Believe" during his last Hollywood audition (or second last? I didn't watch the latest episode so I've no idea if they sang again), I completely wrote him off. There's only one person allowed to rework songs in a creative and accessible manner - and that person is David Cook.
So yeah, Adam Lambert, you can go...okay, I was going to say something rude but on second thought, I shan't. Instead, I will say this: Adam Lambert, shut the fuck up. You're annoying and pretentious, and you're certainly no David Cook.
Still, I bet he's going to be the Season 8 American Idol. I can already see it and omg, I'm damn disgusted, because even though I don't care about American Idol, I have my favourite, and that's Anoop I can't remember his last name. He has the best voice of everyone I've seen so far (though, yeah, I can't remember 99% of them) and he's pretty much the only one I care about. His voice is absolutely fantastic and he's also Indian which means he's Asian which means I have a vested interest in seeing him win because, you know, AzN Pryde y'all! and all.
Okay, I can't believe I just typed "Azn". I fucking - FUCKING - hate that. Please kill me now.
One more thing before I get to the substantial stuff: OMG MY FRENCH BOYFRIEND IS OUT OF ROTTERDAM OMGOMGOMG!!!!!!!1
Poor Gilles. I'm so sad.
And Andy Murray almost lost! Shit, why didn't he lose? That is damn depressing. Andreas Seppi...ALMOST, BUT NOT QUITE. Ugh. 7-6, 7-5, hello!
And lastly, Nadal lost one set yesterday to Bolelli (I forgot his first name). I remember Roger defeated him in straight sets in some tournament...Qatar? Or was it last year? I think it was Qatar Round 1. BLOODY HELL WHY DIDN'T NADAL LOSE.
You know, seriously, half the fun of watching tennis is rooting against Roger's rivals and wishing so hard they'd lose. HAHAHA. It's terrible I know, but well. Too bad!
Daniela Hantuchova lost to Alize Cornet. I can't believe it. I have no reason to download the match then. I can't stand Cornet; she annoys the shit out of me. Seriously, crying during changeovers when she lost the chance to close out her Australian Open match against Dinara Safina? Seriously, CRYING? I know you're a girl and all, but do you really have to be such a wuss? You give females a bad name. Everyone should be like...I dunno, Martina Hingis! HAHAHA that'd be hilarious. I'd love to see players serve underhanded in tournaments; I'd totally laugh my ass off.
Oh, and I know I said Cornet's pretty, but after seeing her with her hair down and without her cap/visor, I totally take it back. She looks like Rafael Nadal. That, obviously, is not a good thing.
And since I'm dissing WTA players' looks, my mom and I watched Amelie Mauresmo against some Italian (something Errani - I'm shocked that I remember these names) the other day and my mom was all, "She looks like Jim Carrey."
WHAT'S WITH THESE FUGLY FRENCH PLAYERS?
But Mauresmo PWNS Cornet in the tennis department. Totally pwns. I have no idea how she lost both her Fed Cup matches. Poor thing.
After the repulsion that I unfortunately felt at seeing a few people, I wondered why it is that I still can't let go. What does it say about me as a person? I hang on to negative memories and emotions, and for what? I'm petty and vindictive and I refuse to give you the luxury of my friendship because you don't deserve it, and you don't deserve it because I refuse, too, to represent that everything is okay when everything is not okay...and why?
It's pride, it's my fierce refusal to undermine myself in favour of someone else, it's pride. I'm too proud to let you in, too proud to give in to you, too proud to let you win this fight. But this begs the question: who the hell is still fighting? Even more importantly, why do I still think of it as a fight, a battle, a contest in which there is a winner and a loser?
At the photo-taking thing the other day, when I was alone with the other guy and we were walking back into Vivo, the only thing that I wanted to do was to get away as quickly as possible. Would my reaction have been different if he'd looked different or if he'd worked as something different? Would I have wanted to talk to him and get to know him if he'd been a bit younger or more remarkable? As it stands, he was what he was, and maybe it would have been different if he was more compatible, but as it stands, the only thing that I wanted to do was to get away as soon as possible.
You wonder why my first instinct is to not get to know a new person. No matter who it is, in what situation, in what setting, my first instinct is to turn and walk away. It's been like this for the past two years, and it doesn't look like it's going to change anytime soon, sort of a miracle and Roger Federer standing at my doorstep telling me he wants to marry me.
Is it that surprising, though, really? Judging by the way I deal with the problem with the ex, it shouldn't be surprising at all. Clearly I can't move forward, and even more clearly there's no way in hell I'd ever move backward (I'd much rather die alone and copulate with, like, myself or something, thank you) - which can only mean I'm stuck. Which is entirely because I still can't let go.
I think I was born a negative person. Throughout my whole life I've been nothing but negative, holding nothing but a negative outlook on life. The sporadic moments in which I was optimistic eventually turned on themselves and provided me with more reasons why I shouldn't be optimistic ever again. As time went by, the habit stuck, and the negativity wormed itself deeper into my psyche, and it's now who I am. I can't look at someone who's hurt me more than words can possibly describe and pretend that everything is fine - because it's not. Even someone like you, who eventually made the right decision in saying no, I can't face you without feeling that unexplainable and probably undeserving stab of repulsion that I wish I didn't feel because it reflects too much on me as a person, my coping mechanism, the way I shut down when things fuck up and simply cannot let go.
The difference, I suppose, is in the trying, the degree to which I'm willing to go to try and let go.
But there are just some things I cannot, absolutely cannot, forget, let alone forgive, let alone let go of. Short of a miraculous explanation in which all the right words are said exactly the way I want them to, I'm never going to get closure. No matter what is said, I'm never going to hear what I want to hear (that's assuming I even know what I want to hear which is a dubious assumption, knowing myself), and even if I think things can be normal, the past will always linger at the back of my mind. Short of completely forgetting which is impossible (and undesirable - see Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind), the malevolent ghost of the past will always haunt me.
For this reason, coupled with my utter inability to exorcise the ghost, the most I'll say to you is a 'hi' if my mood allows it. Nowadays it doesn't. Nowadays I wish you'd disappear. Nowadays I wish I'd stop feeling a heavy dread weighing down on my chest when I see you in school, nowadays I wish I could just be indifferent.
That aspirational indifference? Nowadays it's cold comfort, knowing that I've done this before, hoping that perhaps, maybe, I could do this again.
But really, hope? Me? Who are we kidding.
I'll say this now: My love life is absolutely terrible. There's no other word to describe it.
I've never been in a serious relationship that lasted more than two months.
I've never had any genuine feelings for all my boyfriends save one.
The one time I had genuine feelings for a guy - we all know how that turned out.
The next time I decided to have genuine (as genuine as I could get nowadays, at least) feelings for a guy, it turned out to be a complete mistake, both objectively and subjectively.
I genuinely have no desire to find a boyfriend, unless his name is Roger Federer, who's practically married anyway.
As I told my mom before, "Wo ren shi de nan sheng dou shi ren zha." (I was going to input the Chinese characters but I just discovered I don't have Microsoft Office. OMG WHERE'S MY MICROSOFT OFFICE PANIC FREAK OUT DIE.) In English, "All the guys I know are scum."
Okay, so maybe it was an unfair attack on all the guys I know because it can't be true that ALL the guys I know are scum if I'm friends with some of them, but whatever.
It also doesn't help that I've given up on law school guys and I refuse to date a person in or is associated with the legal profession because I've absolutely had enough, and it doesn't help because I also refuse to date below my status and what I deserve, which is probably 99% of the population anyway, and all the guys I know are in or are associated with the legal profession.
Sure I get hit on by random strangers, but I swear, they are all weird. If they're normal, they're going for Bible study.
The very second I think I might possibly like someone, my rational mind kicks in and points out to me all the reasons I wouldn't like him after a while - because He Is Not My Type.
That assumes I know what my type is, that I have a type. I think I do. Simultaneously, I think my type, simply put, doesn't even exist.
My love life is absolutely terrible. And since we're in confessional mode, I've never had a Valentine's Day. As in - N-E-V-E-R. Never. The bright side is, I genuinely don't give a shit; the downside is, everyone else does. And despite genuinely not giving a shit, it still annoys the crap out of me anyway.
At one point, I think I had high hopes for the future. Now that we're in the future, I can't remember a single element of the basis for those high hopes anymore.
Oh wait, I know - I was young, and therefore, bloody, blindingly stupid.
Okay. What the fuck. Why am I making myself depressed? I wasn't even moody when I set out to write this. I'm such an idiot.
Anyway, on a brighter note, I rushed down to Plaza Singapura yesterday to meet the SN friends after International Criminal Law (in which Prof KK was HILARIOUSSSSS). Pearlyn's going off to Melbourne to do her Masters and she's leaving on Sunday. It was really great seeing them again, and Yun, my Lesbian Lover! Hahahaha. Talking about our secondary school class and our super intense form teacher and some of our weird classmates totally made me laugh my ass off.
On a more sombre note, I think these meetups will get more and more infrequent, not because we stop caring, but because time makes it near-impossible to back up our words with concrete action. The fact that I missed dinner because I had class? It says a lot. When work starts, it's going to be worse - and that really depresses the hell out of me.
Oh well. Another bridge to burn when I get to it. I'm really good at procrastinating, did you know?
Speaking of procrastinating, I can't believe I just noticed I don't have Microsoft Office. How am I supposed to do my assignments? SHIT. Where the hell am I going to find a copy of MS Office!!!!!!!!! Crap, I knew the Acer eRecovery was too good to be true. I should've known that 'factory settings' DOESN'T include MS Office!
I'm so stupid. Kill me now.