Dealbreaker

I was sifting through some old files on my computer when I came across an free short movie I had downloaded from iTunes a few years ago called Dealbreaker. It's about a woman who lives in NYC and she's recounting what it was about each of the men she'd dated in the past that caused them to be oh so wrong. In some cases, it's only one date and she knows immediately. And in others, she dates the guy for a while and then his fatal flaw is revealed. All in all, the film is pretty darn hilarious. I was trying to see if I could find a copy of it on YouTube so that I can share but, I've had no luck thus far. If you go to Glamour Reel Moments archive, they're teasing that they may post it soon.

Anyway, in the spirit of the movie, I thought maybe I'd take a moment and recount the dealbreaking moments for me with some of the guys I've encountered... some I've dated and some I've only considered dating... but the one thing that has held true is that for most of them it was all in what they said. (No worries, the names have all been changed to protect their identities and unless stated otherwise, they were very serious when they made the statement.)

Alex -
"I think I'd like to be a priest."
(Well, that's f*cking awesome... could you imagine me, dating a priest? HA!)

Ben -
"Real women don't have feet that big. Those shoes could only be for transvestites."
(Said while on a date with me about size 10 and up shoes. For the record, I wear a size 10 and I'm very female.)

Charlie -
"I dunno, I did cocaine last weekend and it wasn't all that bad."
(Hmmm... maybe because it destroyed all the brain cells that would tell you otherwise.)

David -
"Guess what?! Today is our two week anniversary!"
(Oh barf! Who the heck celebrates two weeks! I admit, I felt a little bad saying, "well happy anniversary but, we're done now.")

Edward -
"I LOVE THE ROCK! I WANT TO BE THE ROCK!!"
(Just for clarification, he meant the wrestler not the movie. Not exactly my idea of a role model.)

Felix -
"I am constantly thinking about the political implications of my actions."
(Really? ALL your actions? That could make for some less than exciting evenings I'd imagine.)

Grant -
"I didn't think Valentine's mattered so, I went out with some friends to see a movie."
(And just like that, we were done... somehow this surprised him.)

Henry -
"I know we could be so good together!! Why don't you just give us a chance?!?!"
(Overly dramatic response to me saying, "I have to study for my finals so I don't fail out of law school. Maybe we can do something when the semester is done." Needless to say but, I blocked all future calls.)

Isaac -
"I have no conscience."
(Never a good sign.)

you only live once...

I don't normally consider myself to be a thrill-seeker but, of late, I've certainly been doing things the Roxanne of a year ago would probably baulk at... and I've enjoyed it.

As I mentioned in a previous post, I took a motorcycle ride through a small town in southern Viet Nam... which might not be anything big to some, was huge for me. And then, while Mommy and Erin were visiting, I convinced Erin to do the G-Max Reverse Bungy with me... and it was incredible!

The entire experience lasted about 3 minutes but of course it felt like much longer as we were being flung through the air, flipped upside down, and generally screaming like there was no tomorrow. As added proof, I bought the dvd of the experience but I'm not about to post the entire video online for the world to see. Depending how I'm feeling next time you see me, maybe I'll share but until then, here are a few screen shots to tide you over. :)

Getting strapped in and with no idea what we're really in for...



Slowly being lifted to the starting position, still not really sure what we're in for...



What I'm thinking at this moment:
"Shit! I'm slipping out of my chair... please tell me these straps are secure!"
What Erin's thinking at this moment:
"I'm gonna kill Roxie for suggesting this!!"
What skinny boy in the middle is thinking at this moment:
"This is freakin' awesome!!! So glad these crazy girls decided to do this since they wouldn't let me go up by myself."



And now we're upside down... awesome...

You just don't get it

A guy I know (who will remain unnamed) recently posted a fairly scathing review of one of my all-time favourite books, Eat Pray Love by Elizabeth Gilbert. By his words, my love for this book made me a "literary moron" who merely follows whatever the new trend at the time may be... literary or otherwise.

While I like to think I have relatively thick skin, I was a bit offended and was a little disappointed in him. All I could think was, he just doesn't get it.

This isn't a book you read because you are looking for next great literary work. Instead Gilbert's book is appealing because it speaks to you if you've ever felt that, here you are in a place where you should be happy, where you should be content because you've been doing everything "right" for as long as you can remember but, the fact of the matter is that, you're not. All the trappings of your good life make you feel just that, trapped as opposed to fulfilled. Then you question, what the heck is wrong with me. Gilbert encounters this and the book just chronicles her best attempt at figuring it all out.

In reading his review, his biggest grievance appeared to be his perception that Gilbert just gave up and stopped being an adult. In his opinion, she cast all responsibility to the wind and ignored all obligations in her life. And okay, I can sort of see where he might get that but considering her circumstances, and not making an actual judgement call on whether she gave up or not, why was her course of action so horribly despicable? Arguably, she was at her wits' end and there certainly were worse things she could have done. She had no children. She was financially secure (to the point where her husband was seeking money from her upon divorce). She wasn't faced with the traditional responsibilities typically associated with women her age. So, why this burning need that she needs to accept the supposed "responsibility" and stick with a life that's making her absolutely miserable?

He mentioned that teenage/college years are the time for blatant disregard for responsibility but that once a certain age has been achieved you just have to suck it up and be an adult and that got me thinking. Maybe he's right (to a point). Maybe if someone were to write a guide to life, telling you exactly what you should be doing at every stage of your life, the section on teenage and college years would probably read something along the lines of, "be crazy, do stupid shit because it will all be forgiven since you're young." Whereas, the post-college section would probably read, "go get married, hold a responsible job, make babies and by the way, no more crazy adventures for you." Except of course, there is no such book. Instead, if you're someone like me, you happened to have the, "be responsible, do what's expected" mantra beat into your head from the time were five and twenty years later you find yourself wondering, "should I have?"

I think the real thorn for him was that, readers of this book may think that they should do exactly as Gilbert did but, she's not suggesting that at all. While it may work for some, it may not be appropriate (or for that matter, feasible) for most. The book should instead serve as a reminder to not forget yourself and what's important to you. It's a reminder that you don't have to always do what is expected or what's necessarily the most "responsible" thing either. To an extent, it could be said that it's a very selfish message but again, this is not necessarily a bad thing. Quite frankly, I've seen many (usually women) who are too selfless and just end up being used in the end.

btw - I told him that I was just a bit devastated by his review, and like the good guy he is, he took the review down. Now, if only everything else was that easy.

meh...

For the past few years, I've been on the advisory board for my undergraduate sorority and I occasionally find myself incorporating some of their lingo into my own day-to-day vocabulary. "Meh" is probably my favourite term to date. As best I can describe, it means something along the lines of, "eh, I'm indifferent" and that pretty much sums up how I feel about KL.

Prior to moving to Singapore, Kuala Lumpur just sounded so gosh darn exotic. I think it was also mentioned in an Enrique Iglesias song. (Oh heck, who am I fooling? I know it was mentioned in Rhythm Divine/Ritmo Total - Enrique, I love you! - I have no shame apparently.) So, I felt obliged to visit. There are hundreds of luxury buses that serve the route from S'pore to KL daily so getting there was no big hassle but, once we got there, I just was not impressed.

As to be expected, it's nowhere near as clean as Singapore but, that wasn't so much the problem. More of an issue was when we decided to explore the city by foot and made the "mistake" of walking through one of the markets and side streets on our way to some of the more famous mosques. It literally took every fibre of my being not to hurl from the scent. My mother and friend Erin were with me as well and the three of us could not get out of that area faster if we tried.

Then there's the issue of transportation. While KL gets points for having relatively decent public transportation, it really is a random hodgepodge of subway/monorail/train lines that just happen to cross each other on occasion so transferring between the lines and getting around town can be a challenge. Certainly, an option is to avoid public transportation all together and just take a taxi but then you're faced with the touts. Despite signs posted prominently stating that it's illegal for taxi drivers to tout and that you should insist on the metered fare, at certain times of the day, all of the taxi drivers tout and will refuse to take you for metered fare. Don't get me wrong, I've been in cities where you have to be forceful with the taxi drivers in order to get the metered rate but never to the point where the driver will rather not take you than only charge you the metered rate. To make matters worse, if you approach the tourist police/security regarding the touting, they just shrug their shoulders and say maybe you'll have better luck down the street (which of course you don't).

I don't want you to think that KL was a total waste. There were some gorgeous Islamic architecture to be seen throughout the city and, of course, the Petronas Towers which are impressive regardless of how you slice it.



Also, food and lodging is remarkable cheap there as well. For the first time in my life, I had the pleasure of staying at a Ritz-Carlton property (and it was NICE) not because we're rich (because we're not) but just because the price was actually on par with what you'd pay for a two star hotel in New York City.

But, at the end of the day, would I go back to KL? Probably not, especially if I had to pay for it.

Matchmaker, matchmaker, find me a man...

Now that my time here in Singapore is rapidly approaching its end, I'm finding that a number of S'poreans and expats alike are asking me whether I'd consider moving back once I'm done with my degree. And while it's very easy for me to say that I love living here and am not excited to leave, I wouldn't be totally honest if I said I had no qualms about returning in the future.

Why this hesitation? Well, call it the biological clock or whatever you want but, the impression I get (from my own experience and that of other expats I've spoken with) is that it's very difficult to meet someone here. And if you ask fifty people, you'll probably get fifty different answers why it's a challenge. (Admittedly, I have not tried to do as much so it's merely an untested theory.) I've certainly heard answers ranging from, "Asian guys are too little" to "all the [male] expats suffer from yellow fever" (harkens back to MIT days) and then of course "everyone works too much and no one has the time" (again, MIT deja vu).

Well, apparently, it's not just the expat population that thinks this whole meeting people thing is a problem. The government of Singapore is very concerned that Singaporeans are not getting married and increasing the population of the country as quickly as they would like. Therefore, they have their own government-sponsored match-making service called the Social Development Unit. It was pointed out to me by one of my cab drivers and I definitely thought it was a joke but alas he was not kidding (of course, then it made me wonder, did I look like I needed help in that department?) and to add further amusement to this whole concept, next month Singapore will start offering matchmaking training programs for matchmaking companies.

It would seem that the government really wants their citizens to get it on, and pronto! I maintain, if it's kids they're looking for, just spike the water with some Spanish fly (and then follow up with some shot-gun weddings b/c of course they don't want a bunch of unwed mothers running around this little island - they're way too conservative for that).

What's in a name?

At FNDC the other night there were two Paul's and, about two months ago, when I first started attending FNDC's, there were two Will's. I couldn't help but think, it must get frustrating to have to share your name with others on such a regular basis. Because, often you're not just referred to by your name, there's always some other identifier attached to it - an identifier you may or may not like. Then I remembered, in college, there was a point when 3 of my sorority sisters were all dating guys named Matt (and, if I remember correctly, all 3 girls lived on the same floor of the house, along with another sister who had a younger brother, named Matt, at a neighbouring college who called occasionally... that made for fun times all around). Not to mention, we also had at 2 Diana's, 2 Monica's and at one point, 4 Nicole's.

In considering this, I gained renewed appreciation for the relative uniqueness of my name. Despite the fact that there's a group on facebook dedicated to Roxanne's (it's called, "yes, my name's Roxanne, and no, I'm not a hooker" - get it?) with over 800 members, I've only ever met one other Roxanne and that was about two years ago... she was 5. It's peculiar though, because it's not as though the name Roxanne is all that unusual. Practically everyone I meet seems to know the Police song (and gleefully sings it to me as if I couldn't possibly have heard it before... c'mon, the song is as old as I am!) and I've even a had few "original" new acquaintances burst into UTFO's rap song (and yes, that song is also almost as old as me). It used to annoy me but now I just find it mildly entertaining. In truth, I'm really waiting to meet someone who can give me a really great Sting impression or perform the Moulin Rouge version... my personal favourite. (Although, the idea of all the boys singing, 'Roxie', a la Chicago, doesn't sound to bad either. :P)



Oh, and if you thought it just an early 80's song fad, leave it to Puffy/P. Diddy/whatever-the-hell-he-wants-to-call-himself to try to put a (relatively) new twist on it...

Forgive me, please!

I know it's been way too long since my last real blog entry and it's not that I don't have anything to talk about... because I do! It's just that the end of semester is kicking my butt. But by the end of the week things should be infinitely better.

On Saturday, I head to Lao People's Democratic Republic (which, ironically, is a communist state) for a few days (by myself, eek!). Laos/Lao PDR is one of the world's least developed countries and I refuse to tote my laptop there on the off chance I'll have internet access. So, that said, don't expect any blog updates until after I return on April 24. The good news is the blog should then be bombarded with posts I've been meaning to put up.

On a somewhat tangential note, I put up all the gory details for my Laos trip on facebook (Trips application). If you haven't heard from me by the end of the day on April 25 can someone just make sure I'm alive and not stranded somewhere in the depths of Laos? Awesome.

Ok, back to work for me...