Wanker Alert

WhatsApp Image 2018-08-13 at 12.14.42

The message above was from ‘Raincity Dreamer’, the latest wanker I matched with on the dating app OK Cupid. It annoyed me, but didn’t hurt me, which I think it was supposed to.

Here’s the entire conversation:

 

Ash isn’t the first rude person I’ve encountered online. So many men react with mean, hurtful, misogynistic words the moment it’s clear that you’re not the sort of woman they’d hoped you’d be. I don’t know why there’s a need to be unkind, but apparently it’s caused by insecurity: It seems that putting a woman down and upsetting her makes them feel good (better?) about themselves. I find this bizarre, but I guess they really aren’t worth the time and effort it’ll take me to figure out their behaviour.

If you’re browsing OKC in the Klang Valley, this is one guy you should definitely swipe left on.

 

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To Have or Have Not

I did not know that Spike Lee had re-fashioned his film She’s Gotta Have It (1986) into a Netflix series!

nola 87
Tracy Camilla Johns as Nola Darling (1986)

Hmm, I had almost forgotten the film, which I watched a few years after it was released. I know I didn’t get it then. I didn’t get any of Spike Lee’s films. Back then there wasn’t much I got if it wasn’t in the great British/American tradition.

However, I remember I was impressed by Nola Darling (’86). I liked her attitude towards life and love, and men. I didn’t understand it, but I liked it and I admired her. I was jealous of her ability to love three men (and a woman) just enough without giving herself to them.

I’ve always known, but never acknowledged that I’m not a one-man woman. However, I’ve been a one-man woman in my relationships because I am not a jerk. I don’t want to hurt people. Also, I know I’m not evolved enough to be happy about my man having sex with other women and have no wish to be a hypocrite.

Sure, I have double standards, and I’ve been trying to figure out why (apart from the fact that I can be a bit of a dick) I do.

I think I am not secure enough to believe a man could sleep with others and still always prefer me. I know there are different things I appreciate in different men. I like them each in different ways because they’re different people. That’s the way I feel about my girlfriends and that’s how they feel about me. Why should it be different when it’s a man? Hmm … see? I hate how romantic relationships turn me into a green-eyed demon.

I admit it — I am possessive as fuck — not to the extent that I won’t let my partners have friends of the opposite sex (although look at how that ended with Martin and Ee Kee — he left her for me), but I don’t like them polyamorous despite being polyamorous myself.

I think polyamory is complicated and hard work and I don’t think I can handle such a lifestyle. I don’t think I can do the ‘committed to each other, but sleeping around’ kind of relationship. I don’t want to battle with my own jealousy and my partner’s. I don’t want to feel hurt and to hurt others.

Nola 2017
DeWanda Wise as Nola Darling (2017)

I figure the only option is to remain single. Like Nola Darling. Ish. Thing is, I don’t know if the current Nola Darling really knows what she’s about. Of course, I would need to re-watch the original to know what I think of Nola (’87) now, but Nola (2017/2018) … she’s too much of a child for me to take seriously. And her refusal to commit seems more about selfishness and self-conscious artistic posturing than a well-considered lifestyle choice. She’s twenty-seven after all. Haha, spoken like an old woman, right? Damn right!

Say Sorry, Trevor!

I’ve just watched the clip in which Trevor Noah makes a joke at the expense of Australian aboriginal women. I think it’s shameful, but I know there are lots of Malaysians who would laugh uproariously at it. At best they would agree that the joke is rude and hurtful, but they would probably also think, ‘But it’s true: Aboriginal women are ugly.’

I know that the majority of Malaysians do not rate an Australian aboriginal’s physical appearance. Hell, we don’t rate the appearance of fellow Malaysians who don’t meet the accepted ‘standards’ of physical beauty, i.e. large eyes with double eyelids; a narrow nose with a bridge; fair skin. And yes, I’ve just described someone who might well be white. That’s because most Malaysians happen to think white people look more attractive than Asians. It’s no surprise that many of our fashion models, beauty queens and actors (of both genders) are half-white. When a Malaysian woman marries a white man, her friends will squeal about how their children will be super cute thanks to their white genes. No, I’m not joking.

It seems Trevor Noah has yet to apologise for his tasteless joke. He’s said he knows better now, but for some reason he’s not said something like ‘I’m sorry that I made a joke that hurt aboriginal women. It was wrong of me to say what I did just for a laugh.’ I have heard him make jokes about Chinese people and they have lowered him in my estimation. Sure, we all say stupid things, but surely someone like Trevor Noah should address these lapses in judgement and opinion.

As for the way most of us Malaysians think about beauty, don’t get me started. I don’t know if we will ever get over the stupid idea that Asian looks are inferior to white looks. I can’t see it happening in my lifetime, to be honest.

 

 

Blog at Bedtime: Thoughts On Being Alone

The more I date the more I am convinced that I will never meet anyone whom I’ll like and who will like me back. I think I will remain single til I die. This is not a bad thing, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to love and be loved.

However, after what did or didn’t happen with Don, I’m beginning to think that dialysis patient of mine, who read palms, was right when he said I am not meant to marry (I’ll take this to include any longterm romantic relationship). He didn’t say I wasn’t going to marry, but that I shouldn’t marry cos of some past life shit. Apparently couplehood will always end badly for me.

Well, no danger anyway as I’ve found most of the men I’ve dated recently super annoying. I liked one of them but he didn’t like me back (enough) and I’ve now gone off him — cos I really don’t see why I should be the one making all the effort in a friendship. I daresay I’d have gritted my teeth and borne it twenty or even ten years ago, but not now, nope.

No longer being willing to settle is a good thing. It means there’s less of a chance of me ending up used and abused. However, there are still these bad dates. I need to stop. I need to move on and learn to be OK alone. After all, I was alone for seven years after Martin and I split and I was fine. Sure, loneliness will be a thing but it won’t be as bad as having to deal with some man’s ridiculous behaviour.

If I’m honest, I wasn’t happy with Don. And I wasn’t happy with Martin. And I remember it didn’t take long for things to go pear shaped with Joel and there was a lot of crying with Din.

Ugh.

I have no idea what to make of what I’ve just admitted. I haven’t exactly been in denial, but I guess this is the first time I’ve come out and acknowledged that none of my relationships have been good ones.

I suppose the next step is to take responsibility for sucking at relationships. Yes, the guys were far from perfect partners but I was pretty rubbish myself. Still, it doesn’t mean I shouldn’t want to fall in love again. It doesn’t mean I don’t deserve to be adored.

🤔

So, what next? I don’t know, I really don’t know.

Not Guilty As Charged

I keep hearing about Catholic guilt. What is it? Apparently it’s something Roman Catholics (even lapsed ones) can’t shake off. However, I have never had it. Even when I was in the thick of being RC. Perhaps I never was truly RC. Perhaps I was ‘doomed’ from the start to fail at it, and to leave the church.

But, is guilt good? It doesn’t seem to prevent anyone from doing ‘bad’ stuff, just makes them feel awfully bad before, during and after it. And then, it’s not like it stops them from repeating their mistakes either. So, as it’s not even a deterrent I see it as a hindrance and inconvenience and so, pretty useless.

catholic guilt trips

Guilt is simply the awareness of wrongdoing. If you are RC (or were), it seems like you are trained, from the cradle, to feel guilty about every damned thing. Apparently, the religion makes you feel like every human action is potentially sinful. Or fills you up with such an extreme sense of human imperfection that simply to ‘be’ is to feel guilty.

I confess to almighty God
And to you, my brothers and sisters,
That I have sinned through
My own fault,
In my thoughts and in my words,
In what I have done,
And in what I have failed to do;
And I ask blessed Mary, ever virgin,
All the Angels and Saints,
And you, my brothers and sisters,
To pray for me to the Lord, our God.

Above is the Penitential Rite, which is said at the beginning of the Holy Mass, after the Priest and the congregation greet one another. It’s a confession of guilt — pretty much a declaration of a permanent state of sin, in thoughts and words, through what one has done and what one hasn’t done — and a request for Mary, the angels, saints, the priest and the congregation to pray to God for forgiveness, for you.

Back when I was still attending mass, that was the prayer, but there has been an extra line for some years now (if I’m not mistaken, since November 2011) between the declaration of wrongdoing and the request for prayer: ‘Through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault’.  Just in case, it wasn’t clear the first time, ‘It’s all my fault, dammit!’

(The Church obviously feels that to be penitent is not enough, everyone should be miserable to boot!)

I don’t subscribe to dwelling on one’s ‘sins’ or faults or whatever you want to call them (one blogger talks about how the line ‘through my fault etc’ ‘accentuates our sinfulness’). Deal with them as quickly as possible — fix them as best you can, accept them, embrace them even — and move on. Do not carry them around with you as they will make you drag your feet, or stumble or even give up altogether.

And it’s not like I know better, or am so good at living my best life. Perhaps I am just an amoral monster, or in denial. Whatever the case, guilt is not something I’ve ever chosen to engage with. The word is so negative — doesn’t it makes you want to give up before you even start?

To be human is to be ‘imperfect’, but imperfection is not bad, simply natural. I choose not to think of myself as sinful or flawed: I am just myself, a work in progress, and I am aware that my actions will sometimes cause problems for myself and others. Shit happens. We wipe it clean, it may happen again, or not.

No guilt. It’s a waste of time and energy. No guilt, only effort to try again.