The Dating Class (Caste) System.

The Dating Class System to me, could be of 3 levels.

  1. Single
  2. Exclusive Relationship
  3. Married

It’s not too dramatic a classification – and of course, gray areas apply throughout. But for purposes of this post, I’ll stick to 3 simple levels.

As a single person for the last 1.5yrs, I have 2 observations to share.

Observation One: Happily Ever After
People in Class 2 and 3 expect your life to be extremely exciting, in other words, be prepared to sing for your supper when you sit at a tableful of people in relationships. Arm yourself with your most exciting sexcapades, dating dramas and career-driven complaints.

The antithesis of this scenario is for the single person to come with their most self-depreciating stories, which inevitably makes everyone else at the table feel satisfied (read: smug) with their choice to remain monogamous. This, however, is usually accompanied by remarks, such as, “You need to lower your expectations” “Go out more” “You need to expose yourself to more social situations” “Single women over 30 have too much baggage” and my recent personal favourite, “You should marry a friend, like us“.

When did it become ok to offer unsolicited and often unwarranted advice? Why the assumption that one class system is better than the other? Why is marriage the pinnacle of the dating world? How many happily married people do you know? How many relationships do you envy?

I love being single and my opinion shouldn’t affect the choices that anyone else has made in their life, neither should it be pitied. I’m sorry to have to say this out loud, but I am actually happy being single. Which leads to me to my next observation.

Observation Two: Is the fat lady singing already?

It has been recently brought to my attention that I may like the single life, a little too much. I am a self confessed, self professed (what you might call a…) serial dater. To me, this has been a perfectly valid choice to make, in terms of dating style. This approach is minimal commitment, maximum enjoyment and allows me to get to know different people. I was always under the impression that the men I date would appreciate such an open dating concept, as it allows them to openly date other people as well.

Apparently, it’s all fun and games till someone loses a heart.

This dating strategy has recently been classified as “selfish” and thrown me in a slight state of disarray. It’s been raising its objecting hands from all angles, which is unfortunately forcing me to review my grand plan. It seems like the universe is conspiring to get me into a committed relationship. (C-words in relationships are just so unfriendly: commitment, compromise, Caesarean…). I’m not one to ignore the universe, so I am rethinking my blueprint. Maybe it’s about time.

This is, therefore, the gray area I mentioned earlier. Within the Single class system, there are still many sub-levels of commitment, often the least being abhorred.

In this spirit, here’s Rupert Holmes’, “Him” for your listening and identifying pleasure.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tUygQh0iaf8]

Over by the window, there’s a pack of cigarettes
Not my brand, you understand, sometimes the girl forgets
She forgets to hide them, I know who left those smokes behind
She’ll say, “Oh he’s just a friend”
And I’ll say, Oh, I’m not blind to him

 

What’s she gonna do about him
She’s gonna have to do without him
Or do without me
No one gets to get it for free
It’s me or it’s him

Don’t know what he looks like
Don’t know who he is
Don’t know why, she thought that I would say what’s mine is his
I don’t want to own her
But I can’t let her have it both ways
Three is one to many of us
She leaves with me, or says with him

What’s she gonna do about him
She’s gonna have to do without him
Or do without me
No one gets to get it for free
It’s me or it’s him

If she wants to, she can have him
Just exactly how we once were
It’s goodbye to you and I
Back to her and I without him

What’s she gonna do about him
She’s gonna have to do without him
Or do without me
Not one gets to get it for free
Time for me to make the girl see
It’s me or it’s him
What’s she gonna do about him
She’s gonna have to do without him
Or do without me.

—————————–

Note: This post was not written to create discord between the class systems. But if there’s anything that I’ve learnt in life, it’s that happy endings are a lot more fun when you’re single.

New bus signs for everyone!

The powers that govern sunny (oh, God, is it sunny) Singapore have decided to grant fresh water for the horses and revamped bus signs for everyone!

busStop_sign

Although I have no clue what that wavy yellow sign is supposed to mean (someone didn’t consider user interaction when they designed that sign…), it looks a shitload better than the old ones. At least the bus icon is sleeker and doesn’t look like a tram from the days of Raffles. Using less metal gives it a much more modern and approachable look – and less likely to get tetanus from. All in all, a step in the right direction.

busstopsign

The Formula One Fall-Out

So, it was a pretty big weekend for loads of people in Singapore – given the hype and publicity of F1 and F1 Rocks. Oh, and of course, the race.

This is the second year Singapore has hosted the F1 – and I thought the novelty would have worn off after the first one, last year. I remember Facebook being flooded by photographs of friends at F1 – and these were people I know for a fact have never had an interest in F1. But – fair enough – it’s the first year in Singapore – let’s all pose with champagne glasses and pretend not to look bored during 61 laps.

I am not a Formula 1 fan so I won’t pretend to be. Everything I know comes from my father, who is the most supreme F1 fan I personally know – I remember his favourite driver being Nigel Mansell – he’s a true fan of racing – not teams. In fact, one of his birthday gifts from my mother, many, many years ago was a trip to Monza. When he watches the races on TV, he actually makes comments before Steve Slater (if you don’t know who that is, you seriously should not bother going next year) makes them.

Now, I understand the need and desire to experience something new – to hear the roar of the engines, immerse yourself in the spirit of passionate competition – but I don’t think I’m asking too much for you to pretend like you actually care – beyond being able to brag that you took a picture with Hamilton.

Recently read on a blog:

“Hamilton won, as you all probably know by now. I couldn’t care less.”

And yesterday, I spoke to someone who was fortunate enough to have a pit pass (my father would have been over the moon to have that) and made a comment to me, “But the race is so boring – they just go round and round the circuit”.

What did he think they were going to do? Strap on big shoes and a red rubber nose? Right now, the event still has bragging rights but before you open your mouth to start bragging – at least Wiki for some knowledge or feign interest.

0187614455085

I was, however, fortunate enough to chance upon tickets for the final day of F1 Rocks from a friend – and even though we were waaaay at the back, Beyonce was fantastic to watch – a really great, confident performer that put up a good show. And in case anyone was wondering, I was that lunatic at the back who:

  1. yelled, “Bring Jay-Z out!”
  2. sang along, terribly out of tune (but lyrically sound), to Irreplaceable

I regret not making an attempt to catch No Doubt (and no, you idiots, it wasn’t a Gwen Stefani performance, it was No Doubt. And no, they never broke up – they were just on hiatus) cos I really do like their stuff – wonder if they performed Ex-Girlfriend?

The fall-out from the F1 Rocks would have to be Beyonce’s famed take on Singapore English – “…although Singaporeans don’t speak good English, I am glad that they sang along with me…”

Oh, the drama that ensued on our crappy radio stations the next morning (why I was listening, I had no idea). Our ninny DJs Glenn Ong and The Flying Dutchman (for god’s sake, get a grown up name already) had a field day discussing this (I suspect mostly because it saved them from having to research another thin topic to discuss) – and the most brilliant (yes, that was sarcasm) theory from the Flying Dutchman (what’s his bloody real name, damn it!) which was, “Well, Germans and French people have accents, why can’t Singaporeans have theirs?“.

Oh, you foolish, foolish man.

While I choose not to over-analyse Beyonce’s statement (it’s not like she’s the Commonwealth representative for Queen’s English) – the truth of the matter is that Singaporeans can’t speak English for shit. The 100 people you know that you think can speak English well, is nothing in comparison to the millions of Singaporeans who can barely communicate a simple sentence.

If you are Singaporean and speak good English – it means you should be capable of speaking both English and Singlish. If you can only speak Singlish, you cannot speak good English. If you cannot speak good English, chances are, you were lost somewhere in the middle of this post (look at the pretty picture!). I do not look down on Singlish at all – it’s my primary means of communicating. However, in situations where I would be conversing with someone who is not Singaporean (or a formal setting), I would revert to good ol’ plain English. It is really that simple – accents aside.

This has nothing to do with accents. Germans and French people are allowed to speak poor English because it isn’t their first language. I’ve know people who speak better English than the average Singaporean and English was their 4th language! English is technically supposed to be our first, so it’s perfectly logical for foreigners to expect a decent standard of spoken English (and please don’t even bother bringing up this bilingual shit. Being bilingual means that you can communicate somewhat decently in 2 languages. If you can only speak one, you’re still just monolingual. And if you’re going to be monolingual in Singapore, it should be in the official first language – English).

And I have found it terribly amusing that people have ripped Miss Singapore World Ris L0w to shreds on the internet when I would guarantee that almost all would know at least ONE person in their life that speaks that way.

Stop using Singlish as an excuse for poor English – if this language is to be my identity, I’d trade in my passport.

Till F1 2010!

If there are any grammar/spelling mistakes in this post – it was intended for dramatic irony.

I am actually serious about this one.

Add him on the list of odd, funny men I enjoy. Noel Fielding has a tenderness about his humour and this almost shy giggle that gets me all the time. Too damn cute. (Don’t worry, nothing can replace my Simon Pegg obsession – ever)

97882705_a0126aa0dbnoel

Watch this great episode (if you haven’t already) of NMTB when he was (at the time) guesting.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AMMj1s8Kn14]

And a somewhat related video of MTW, with Frankie Boyle’s magnificent beard (Why did you cut it, Frankie? Why?!)

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zWhiD1NlRgI]

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UHUhw5NtSaA]

Just one of those days.

Ambivalence is my curse.

n. uncertainty or fluctuation, esp. when caused by inability to make a choice or by a simultaneous desire to say or do two opposite or conflicting things.

Whilst I would prefer more exciting words to describe me – none describe The Me as well as “ambivalent”. I live in the middle of the push and pull. I either lack the capacity to weigh pros and cons effectively or, the capability to execute a decision. This coupled with narcissism and obstinance – leaves me with choices made in the knowledge that it probably should have gone the other way.

I am the kind of person that flips a coin to make a decision and pick heads after it lands on tails. I trust neither myself, nor gravity. Would I follow the directions on Jack Sparrow’s compass – the one that points you to your hearts desire? Would a Magic 8 Ball do?

The world keeps spinning – whether we make a good decision, a choice we regret… or neither. Sometimes, I feel I am running against its direction – in some vague, faint, pointless attempt to catch up with my past – to make new decisions that serve as a crutch for the old ones.

What a silly and tiring thing to do.

The soundtrack for this mood has been sponsored by Bob Seger. What an apt and beautifully written song.

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RcDCvQbOdig]

Against the Wind
Bob Seger

It seems like yesterday
But it was long ago
Janey was lovely, she was the queen of my nights
There in the darkness with the radio playing low
And the secrets that we shared
The mountains that we moved
Caught like a wildfire out of control
Till there was nothing left to burn and nothing left to prove

And I remember what she said to me
How she swore that it never would end
I remember how she held me oh so tight
Wish I didn’t know now what I didn’t know then

Against the wind
We were runnin against the wind
We were young and strong, we were runnin
Against the wind

And the years rolled slowly past
And I found myself alone
Surrounded by strangers I thought were my friends
I found myself further and further from my home
And I guess I lost my way
There were oh so many roads
I was living to run and running to live
Never worried about paying or even how much I owed
Moving eight miles a minute for months at a time
Breaking all of the rules that would bend
I began to find myself searchin
Searching for shelter again and again
Against the wind
A little something against the wind
I found myself seeking shelter against the wind

Well those drifters days are past me now
Ive got so much more to think about
Deadlines and commitments
What to leave in, what to leave out

Against the wind
I’m still runnin against the wind
Well I’m older now and still
Against the wind