It’s really just a game

I am really late in realizing that but it is.

One thing that has been brought to my attention is that I don’t “flaunt my sexuality”. That is to say I don’t partake in the game. I don’t show off my physical beauty in a way that is obvious to the outside world. Sure I may have a nice pair of boobs and ass, but nobody knows about them if they are hiding under baggy sweaters 3 times my size. I used to think that it shows a very narrow definition of sexuality, and I still do, but as a scientist, I thought it might be worth investigating.

Since the commencement of the school year, I have actually paid attention to what the crap I am wearing. I haven’t exactly ditched my own style, I can never quite do that, but I have invested in starting to wear things that are my own size. (I am a size 4-6, but I love wearing size 8-10 just because they are baggy and comfortable). It’s amazing what a difference that can make.

People are visual creatures, and I am no exception. It’s amazing how much effect being comfortable with one’s curves can be. Few weeks ago, when I first started wearing my own sized clothing, I was surprised by how much lighter, how much more feminine and happy I felt. It’s not like I never used to wear things my own size before, such occasions were usually just reserved for special occasions/some social events. On a regular basis, when I am around friends or at school or just going to movies or something, I would do all I could to hide my feminine shape.

Back to my late understanding of how this is a game. In order for there to be results, there needs to be an experiment first. In order for there to be a reaction, an initial action must set it off. All this time, I could have been an instigator of chaos and orgies of massive scales, yet I stood around passive, friendzoning everyone indiscriminately, even if I had an inkling of attraction towards them. I never spoke out. Even though I didn’t seem like it, I was a veritable ice queen.

First week of school I went clubbing. It’s really not my scene, but a couple of my friends made me go. I was forced to dress “sexy” in mainstream terms. That apparently results in a variety of men approaching me and grinding with me. To be honest, it was a little weird. They have no idea about the inner geek goddess who obsesses over webcomics and quantum thermodynamics, and how much she hates most mainstream culture. It was ironic. I left my usual hipster label behind to join this grand gathering of something that is emblematic of the mainstream of our time. I am not saying all clubbing is mainstream, but this one is particularly known for drawing in a certain sorority/fraternity/people with normal lives crowd. It’s not really my cup of tea, it was odd and somewhat depressing that I would have to whore it all out to get a guy to want to get intimate with me. But that’s not apparently the only way you play the game.

Few days earlier, I was hit on by some random guy at my uni caf. I was sitting by myself reading a book during my free period while everyone else was in class. He decided he wanted to eat with me and kept talking to me about life in my very selective program and the like. I don’t deal too well with random people talking to me and trying to hold my hand, but it was funny on a theoretical level. He was technically a good catch; a recent graduate with a job and all. But I totally wasn’t expecting that and froze up and put up a wall. Ah well.

So these are my findings so far. It has caused me to drop a lot of inhibitions I have had from before. For example, I wouldn’t be half an interested in anyone if they didn’t seem like good  relationship material, but now I am apparently willing to give most decent people a chance, because I am clearly not looking for a relationship right now, I just want an adventure.

Some things I have never discussed aloud

In the midst of drifting between wanting a relationship and being single, I have avoided admittimg certain things to myself. I kept it all to myself as I was growing up, and it set me apart from girls my age.

Apparently little girls dream of their big day, about some prince charming who will wisk them away. Not I…I fantasized about being a nun.

It’s important to say that I never harboured much spiritual beliefs in me. I was attracted to the lifestyle of nuns and monks, living often in close quarters, but devoted to something else, and spending much time alone. I romanticized the notion, of living in harmony with the world while being alone when you go to sleep. There is a sense of community nonetheless.

I don’t know why this sort of lifestyle is often tabooed to an extent in our society. Why can’t I lead the same sort of life outside a convent and not be considered some sort of a freak?

My closeted monastic desires come to life whenever I feel I am getting to wrapped up in human drama. Part of me that stands away from relationships is the part that believes being with one person will take away my solemn harmony with the world.

I had kept this part to my self for a very long time, thinking people will think I am some sort of whacko. I definitely haven’t been particularly chaste, or poor in spirit in my short life, but I seek purity on a level that most people find impractical for day to day life. I can’t be with anyone who can’t share the vision of sharing my heart and mind figuratively with the whole world, and who discriminates against other human beings and animals to fend for oneself and his chosen family. To an extent I hate the concept of a family, because it seems fake on many levels, quite very limiting. When I got my around the head the personal need for sexual activity, the idea of Free Love really appealed to me.

I know I’m pretty messed up.

I live with these fucked up dichotomies. On one hand I’d like a relationship, but I don’t like how it takes me away from the entire world. I would eventually like my own family, but I don’t like the thought of being Machiavellian to save myself and my family. I don’t like the idea of not caring about anything outside of myself, but I continue to keep telling myself and others to take responsibility for their own happiness, and that I can’t do anything about myself. I am distraught between giving myself totally to one person, and turning my back on the whole world.

Till this Girl who got bored was about 15 or 16, her idea of a life consisted of moving from one place to place, learning about different things, living with people of random cultures, and not quite having a permanent home. It would be my own kind of monastic living, because apparently you can’t have a relationship like that.

I fucking hate the thought of settling down, cause to me it resembles a lack of further growth.

Every time I have had missed opportunities with guys, I didn’t really beat myself up about it until others told me that’s what I was supposed to do. Part of me always knew to be totally in love, I can’t be anything other than alone.

There was a whole paradigmatic shift once I entered university, where everyone is planning for a future life, a future home with a future spouse of some sort. I found the notion foreign and unsettling.

I guess I was peer pressured into wanting a relationship.

This summer, while bonding with existing friends, I continue to live on in my head.

All this time, when I was talking about how it’s awesome being alone and doing things, I just was channeling this part of me in other ways.

I don’t know what I’m gonna end up being in the future, but nothing really scares me anymore you know?

I just couldn’t care less. I’m happy to be breathing this air with the rest of planet.

The all-pervasive stasis

Ever had that feeling when you feel so comfortable with where you are in life you kind of stop growing? Well, this is where I am now.

It sucks to know that I have sort of become dependent on an identity crutch of sorts and fail to see my life beyond that. I have fallen for the hipness of the student lifestyle even though I am not living it to the full extent I should be, just the idea thereof has me quite mesmerized.

When I started university, I thought I would just go with the flow of things and get involved and participate in wonderful artistic things around me. Most people around me had completely different interests, and more so were non-adventurous and stagnant, unless you count the weekly clubbing trips as novel and adventurous.

I am determined to get the most out of my life right now, the student life, yet somehow I feel it will hold me back from really facing the future one day.

But I know why I have been holding on to this world so dearly. It is, honestly, my only sanctuary. Academics have always been the thing I obsessed about just to hide from the emotional scars that my parents would inflict on me.

My parents themselves have had a shaky relationship. It would be much healthier for all of us, if they divorced, at least I would have known and felt that there was some sense of justice in the world. But they, especially my mom, holds on to dear self-destructing idealism, which has ruined her talents and creativity, and then she blames me for her sorrows, because I left her for university and I don’t want to ever become like her as a person. Don’t get me wrong, she is a smart, intelligent professional woman, with the gifts of human kindness and everything pretty much that makes for a generally pleasant person. I feel like I am writing about a Shakespearean character as I describe her here, but she does have a fatal flaw, and that is she is too much faith and not enough knowledge about human nature. Most of the times, when she does have fights with my father, I do side with her, but it’s only so long that I can put up with dire irrationality. Sure my father may have been a terrible person with extreme apathy for other people’s feelings, but at least he tries to be rational. Abusively rational. I just cannot sympathize with women like my mother, who have seen the freedom of the so-called post-feminist world, yet choose to live in the cave of their misled idealism and self-denial. It makes her no saint in doing so, despite what she would like to believe. She apparently has no problem passing down emotional baggage to me willingly, and then scarring me further by saying I am making her unhappy.

You know what? It’s time she started taking responsibility for her own happiness. I can’t reason with a maniac.

I have told her this many a times, but she is also one of those people who are too comfortable where they are in life. I refuse to be that way.

It’s been only one day since I finished exams. I was happy yesterday, being tipsy with all my classmates not all of whom I am totally familiar with in a big sketchy house downtown. It felt real and natural, and I felt a sense of unity with everyone there, something I have seldom felt about my family. I have had only a half an hour conversation with my two respective parents, and I already feel emotionally drained and I would really rather be writing more exams.

Despite what may come through in this blog, I am utterly optimistic and rational at the same time about where I want to be in life and who I want to be with. It bothers me when smart people such as my mom bring themselves down.

I can see myself, in another 10 years or so, becoming one of those career-obsessed women, but to me that is sort of a pretty awesome place to be at, knowing that I wouldn’t have to stop being progressive in my personality and thoughts. I have had enough stasis in my life as a mere 19 year old.

I sort of sometimes feel that I am at one of the worse situations in life one can be at. I am broke, with few close friendships, a craptacular family dynamic, no boyfriend. The list go on much further. However, in the last year, I have learned to be grateful for what I have and love myself nonetheless. At harsh times like this I am glad this is the way I am. It can only really get better.

In the last week, things have looked up for me.

I got one of those sexy research jobs at my university, which I totally wasn’t expecting to, but some prof saw how giddy I get around experimental apparatus and hired me.

This weekend, I am moving into a house full of random people I have never met, which I am quite excited about.

In conclusion to this academic year, I have learned a few important things or have had reaffirmations about certain things in general.

1. You are responsible for your own happiness.

2. Be nice to everyone around you, but know that nobody is as awesome to have a billion best friends. Stick with those who know and appreciate you best, but don’t get tied down to that circle of friends.

3. Do random crap that put you out of your comfort zone, but be safe.

4. Start conversations with people. It makes you seem almost human.

5. Dress well! It goes a longer way than one would expect.

6. Don’t lie to yourself, it only complicates things further.

7. Live organically and naturalistically rather than a machine programmed to complete tasks.

8. Make use of free will. Nobody can ever make you do anything.

9. Take opportunities to express yourself with art.

10. No matter how crappy things get, life goes on, for better or worse, but usually better.

I promised myself last November that I would reemerge as a better stronger person in the spring, and I think I have gone beyond the standards I set for myself. Heck, I am even ready for a relationship? Or casual dating, though that’s really not my thing. I mean, I feel much more social and less critical of every idiot boy out there. It’s just something that the change of seasons do to me, and I guess I might as well take advantage of it. Although I wouldn’t beat myself up about if I don’t get even a date this summer. There is much to rejoice about still due to the silent revolution that is ongoing inside of me.

Online Dating: Should I or should I not?

I got thinking about this recently.

It would be an understatement to say I am afraid of the internet.

Just the number of things that could go wrong scare me and make me really really paranoid. I’d rather pick up a guy in a bar. At least I would have met him physically, and I now know that I have the balls to do that. But nobody will be wingman. Everyone around me is a serious prude.

Seriously though, I have been getting increasingly lonely. I haven’t been on a real date for gosh knows how long.

Yet at the same time, I don’t feel peer pressured to date. The large majority of my friends are not dating. They don’t seem to be in a rush. Neither am I, but I just feel there could be someone out there who I wouldn’t mind killing some time with.

Perhaps I am not seeing my priorities right.

Then again, I could just make a profile and let the guys pursue me.

It would be like an experiment. I probably won’t act on it. I am too webshy for that. But if I really like someone on it, I might just change my mind. I don’t know.

What could go wrong really?

I would hate my friends to find out. More than anything else. Yeah that’s my fear really.

Or if someone in my class or day to day life is on the dating site, things might get seriously awkward.

I just hope I don’t stumble across someone I know. That would be very very bad.

Previously, I thought I would only try online dating if I was at another city for sometime, and didn’t have many friends and needed someone to kill time with.

But I am really looking for someone to connect with. I seem to have this excess energy.

Then again, there is the monetary aspect of online dating. I am not gonna bother trying a free site because that’s just sketchy, but there is no way in hell I am paying for this at this point in my life.

Anyone got any ideas as to what I should do?

My gut says go for it, but my mind says no.

My apparent lack of empathy and its role in my singlehood

It has been recently pointed out to me that I am apparently somewhat of an emotional cripple. While I somewhat agree with this, I feel that many people don’t understand why I come off as coldly logical most of the time.

I have mentioned before that I sometimes have a hard time relating to most girls. I do see where they are coming from, but I fail to appreciate their reasoning, simply because I feel it is no reasoning at all. When I try to understand my emotions rationally, I am accused of compartmentalizing them and such. Even my parents think I am cold and distant emotionally.

I guess I have quite a different approach to emotional information than most people do, and I also think that because of my gender, people have a certain bias against me. It’s mostly okay for men to be the “strong silent” type, but that archetype does not exist for women. Women are the ones that build homes and communities and express themselves well. While I’d like to think I do the latter pretty darn well, there are many who think that my views are detached and needs more of a human touch. I have been a recreational and competitor debater most of my teenage years, and for my own clarity, I feel it is necessary to look at issues as they are before attaching my biases to them. And here are women accused of being irrational and emotional (I’d have to agree to a large extent), but when people see one that relies so purely on logic, they apparently are unable to accept it.

I have always been a sucker for logic, and knowledge in general. Clichéd emotional romantic comedies don’t do anything for me. I’m a huge fan of dark comedies, and psychedelic movies. That is not to say though that I readily dismiss romance. When it appeals to me, I can be indeed quite overwhelmed. There is this one stanza in Bob Dylan’s song “Tombstone blues”. If anyone is to ever say it/sing it to me, I would melt immediately.

Now I wish I could write you a melody so plain
That could hold you dear lady from going insane
That could ease you and cool you and cease the pain
Of your useless and pointless knowledge

What I absolutely adore about this, is the fact that it applies to me so well. It’s not your usual declaration of romance, it doesn’t even have to be. I like that ambiguous quality about it.

All of this talk of how I need to be more expressive and stuff leads me to think about my rejoiced singlehood. It’s true, I do love being single. There are those times however, when I wish I had someone special with me, someone who understands what I’m talking about and can appreciate my perspective. After much thinking, I came to understand why I couldn’t bother to ask out blonde boy. I enjoyed the make-out session, but I don’t think it would have gone anywhere. I am definitely not the one for just casual dating without the intent for relationships. I had a summer fling once, and that should have been enough to tell me that I shouldn’t just randomly make out with people. Anyway, I learned my lesson. I need a relationship, but I am still not yearning for one. I think I am quite immature still. Most of my friends have been single all their lives and there is definitely no peer pressure to get into a relationship. But like I have mentioned before, I think I am losing the ability to truly care and love someone. It’s a sad thought. I just want to be proven wrong in this regard. Perhaps that’s why a part of me wants a real relationship and no more of this fling-like things, so I could learn again how to love and care. I’m such a fool. Anywho.

When I think about why I haven’t had real relationships, I feel it might be because of my so-called lack of empathy. Men like to be the logical ones while women are like the shoulders to cry on, the emotional support etc. I definitely don’t like being the shoulder to cry on, so I guess I have to look for a guy who does. Genuinely sensitive guys are rare I think. But I don’t want those guys from chick flicks with a tough exterior and sweet gentle heart. I like men that have a good balance of intellect and affection, not overly sensitive or stoic. That is even rarer than sensitive guys. To be honest though, sensitive guys are such mushy turn offs. It might be obvious by now but I have to say it anyway. I fucking hate chick flicks. That again is one thing that could be interpreted both as my inability to relate to the emotional content of chick flicks or just not being able to put up with the cinematographic clichés contained in them.

On a different note, when I go back and read my older posts, it’s weird because I seem so full of contradictions. I am obviously affected by the mood I am in but I didn’t realize that could sometimes be so apparent in my writing.