...If Only in My Dreams

Merry Christmas.

It's been a year of ups and downs, a year of changes and a year filled with risk taking, ambitious opportunities. It is rare for me to find time to write, except for this isolated occasion where I am sitting and waiting for my delayed flight from Singapore to Philadelphia by way of San Francisco.

Sometime closer to the end of this year, mostly due to my constant overtime at work and a new after-work-hours venture in a start-up, my health took a serious tumble. Exhaustion and hyperventilation, they said, even though it felt so much more like a heart attack.

The boyfriend came to my rescue as I laid half-naked and helpless in my bathroom's bathtub, filled with cold water (it was the only thing I could do to distract myself from the intense pain I was feeling in my chest and all along the left side of my body). He called the ambulance that took me away to a nearby hospital. They gave me pills and eventually I came down. The uncontrollable shaking subsided and my heart beat returned to normal.

Surely, I thought, I had just experienced a heart attack. But they diagnosed me with hyperventilation and exhaustion instead. They said that I must have been under a lot of stress lately and that I needed to take it easy. Need to learn how to cope with sudden panic attacks. Easier said than done.

I am feeling better now, embarking on a much needed 2-week vacation to see my family and friends. A lot of emotions are stirring up as I am sitting here in San Francisco. A lot of things that I forgot that I loved so much about being in the US.

Will I ever return home? The question is more complicated and the answer is less certain. I have many homes now, and whichever place it is that I choose to leave, a part of me will be left there too.

I don't know what my future holds for me and I don't think I can plan for anything beyond the scope of 365 days. All I know for certain, for now, is that I am coming home to my family. A day late for Christmas, but to a Christmas at home nonetheless.

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Make Me Feel LIke..

As I am typing my rare blog entry, he enters the room and distracts me with some cute non-sense. I forget all about typing and get wrapped up in the more important things... the last few hours before he goes off on a 7-week trip with the Singapore Navy.

I fucking can't believe it, to be honest, that I am dating an army guy. There is no glamour or glitz, as it was with the Banker. There is no drama, as it was with Mr J. But somehow it works, despite the age difference and cultural difference and despite that he's frequently broke (to be fair, as frequently as I am and not that I ever cared about money when it came to relationships anyway). It still works.

It is the distance that I am not good with. And the lack of communication that goes with it.

Sure, I go about my day as per usual. Maybe I am even more productive as a result that I can stay focused on my work more. But, as a true Gemini, when I get bored (on weekends mainly), I have a tendency to do bad things. Things that are not really great for a relationship.

I've always enjoyed clubbing and partying and, having lived in Singapore for a substantial amount of time, I have a privilege of getting invited to some exclusive openings and events. (hey, it's a small city/country. Sooner or later, you pretty much get to know everyone, whether you want to or not.)

But people tend to assume you are single, when you attends these happenings. And sure, you know? Go ahead and assume away: if there is no ring on my finger and if I am wearing a short, hip-hugging dress, why not think that I might be unattached?

The part of telling someone that you are NOT single though... that's the tricky part. And though I always do it, there is always a moment of awkwardness afterwards and one of two things happen immediately:

1) We continue a polite conversation for a while. The guy pretends that it's all good, but I can see that he is having a difficult time in reconciling with a fact that he can no longer hit on me; or

2) There is an instant disinterest that glazes over a guy's eyes, as soon as I say, "But by the way, I have a boyfriend..." There is not even an attempt to carry on the conversation and the guy pretty much just walks away.

Both of the scenarios are kind of weird and uncomfortable. I suppose if I was really not cool with it. I'd stop going out all together. The thing is... giving up going out and doing some occasional partying is not in my cards just yet. Maybe I should give it up already but I keep thinking... just one or two more years and I'll be good. And the next thing I know, I'll probably be fourty.

Yeah... Just one or two more years and I'll be good. I promise.

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Post-Hangover Musings on Life and Love

As the heat rises from the copper roofs of the shophouses around my balcony where I am sitting, nestled in an Ikea chair with my laptop on my knees, I sit and wonder about what happened to my motivation to blog. It's sort of non-existent at this moment, trumped by the demands and expectations of the real world, by the more pressing urgency to do anything else but update my blog.

A rare glimpse of motivation has caught me at just the right time today. A glimmering nostalgia for the times when I used to entertain myself by recounting stories from the night before, amusing myself with the comical or revelatory statements from myself or the people with whom I had interacted.

My life has been the most hectic it has ever been. In a good way, of course, professionally, personally and socially. In many ways, really, I don't feel 28. Is that bad or good? Maybe both.

I feel like I'm bursting with energy of a 21 year old on most of the days that I am not hungover, which is quite frequently actually. I feel like I'm hungry and ready to take over the world, I feel like things are going to only get better if I keep keeping on.

I've realized recently (maybe not so recently) that I've been quite a selfish person. I've realized that because I needed to deal with compromises in my relationship and those compromises have frequently bruised my ego. But selfish does what selfish wants and, on some level, it's dealing with this vice of mine and seeing how it works out with my dude.

I think it will. It's been good, really good so far. And just between you and me... I'm talking marriage material here. Maybe. Just maybe.

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