since i came back to school my weekends have mostly been unproductive workwise, but therapeutic emotionally. perhaps therapeutic isn't the word, because i'm not sure that i feel any better for it afterwards, but that's when i often get to talk to my girlfriends, and these days amongst all of us i think we've got just about all the combinations of men troubles a bunch of 23 year olds could have: long-distance relationships (present and potential), faces from the past reappearing (with or without new female attachments), unrequited love, being cheated on, cross-culture/nationality (and/or) separation/time's up... and while your guy friends can be wonderful at giving fortifying injections to your vetebrae and telling you exactly what the other guy is in their opinion, they are absolutely useless when it comes to agonising to the last syllable of why you feel upset and helping you read that email he sent you with thirty different inflections. (however, sometimes you should pay attention to their advice because after all, if they don't see the point, the guy you're upset with probably doesn't either.) i wish we could all have who we wanted and be happy and stop squabbling or fretting.

and then somehow the problem of shelf life keeps cropping up now. is it absurd? we're just 23 and we're all thinking we'll never meet anyone or be loved again, that we still can't get over the last guy or that we've been with one person for so long so that on our own again, we don't know how to go out and meet people anymore, or that one more heartbreak and we'll give up on men forever. this reminds me of a conversation i had with angela a really long time ago. i think we said that it is either that every relationship we get into we're sure it's the very last one we'll be in, or that on the contrary, every relationship you get into just goes to show how wrong the last one was.and i think the difference between being 16 and 22 is that you've definitely gone from the former to the latter. bleah. that, and the fact that at 16 reading bridal magazines was fun and now just plain depressing. cindy says this is because at 16 you feel like sunshine and soft breeze and an infinite number of men are to come but at 23 you suspect you're running out of empty pages for men to write on. the only thing to look forward to, it seems, is cindy's promise that when she's rich and powerful i can share her orchard road penthouse. time to stop reading baby blues and start enjoying comics like cathy more! when i was 21 my parents were placidly telling me that 21 is too young to tie yourself down to one guy and to be sure you want to be with him forever. i sure hope they can keep thinking like that when i'm 37 and not give me that "hey so what about grandchildren before we die" kind of talk that already some of my relatives are giving me!!! when i was home this break i told my mom that she can expect her daughter to stay single and live at home forever but cheer up i'll be a credit in other ways. she said oh okay, so do we have to give you angpow for the rest of your life? i said of course you do and added that i might have many children if i got married so she's actually cutting her losses. my cousin allan, who is 24 years older than me to the day, and whom all the relatives have been complaining about not getting married for the last couple of decades, is finally doing so this august and this means that everyone will start picking on me instead. ARGH. and darn it, it's so much easier for guys. of course it's not as if, like poach says, we're ever going to become the kind of women who won't divulge our ages. but darn it, we are getting old. how is it you could be a 50 year old man and still be irresistible to crowds of goggling young girls whereas if you're a 50 year old woman it helps to be an heiress? plus, the older you get the more women become available (for instance, von wants emma watson, who's about fourteen or something) whereas it gets harder and harder to find an older man.

you know, it's not as if my desires are that extravagant. me i just want to get into bed with a man and book of my choice and go to sleep warmly. no such luck.

i need to run out and turn in some forms to housing. to be continued...