I'll Try To Give As Good As I Get

'Freedom of choice' sounds super fantastic when we're the ones getting that freedom, no?

But when it's someone else you're giving that freedom to, it can be a little galling. ESPECIALLY if you're convinced they're completely and utterly wrong.

I'm talking about that completely and utterly ridiculous Obedient Wives Club. When news of it first broke the surface, I (predictably) reacted with total rage and feminist war cries. Let me tell you, it's especially frustrating to be all ball-busting feminist against my own gender! Everybody had an opinion, that they're ridiculous, that they have a point, that men are bastards, that men are kings and should be treated as such. There were calls for the club to be shut down, etc etc etc.

I seethed as I read about people CONDONING the club, and would passionately join in the denouncement of these completely sex-oriented misguided women. And then one day I read a tweet that said, in essence, Mind Your Own Business. The guy doesn't condone the OWC but he said - and he has a point!- that the thing about freedom of choice is that people are FREE to choose what they want to join and what they want to say. We demand for greater freedom of speech, we demand for more freedom, BUT we refuse to give people one iota more than we deem is 'right'. Then what sets us apart from those we feel to be our oppressors? Nothing, that's what. Who am I to tell people that their beliefs are wrong? That's the thing about freedom, you see. It goes both ways. They're free to try to spread their ideology. We're free to try and spread our own in direct contradiction to theirs. But we're not free to ask them to shut down just because we don't like their ideas. Muslim men are free to marry up to four wives, and women are free to reject proposals from men with wives if they don't believe in polygamy. See, freedom. The OWC is free advocate first-class prostitute sex, and we're all free to decide whether or not sex alone can make a good marriage. The right to make our own choices is something we shouldn't hoard, don't you think?



P/S: I personally think that first-class prostitute sex (from both wife AND husband, mind) coupled with mutual love and respect can only do a marriage good.

Don't Squish Them Bras!

From despairing mum to part-time helper Auntie Rosie:

Trying To Live A Life Without Regrets: It Isn't Easy, Bud.

I came across the 'Top 5 Regrets People Have On Their Deathbeds' during one of my internet trawls recently, and it really made me stop to think. And it made me sad.

1. I wish I’d had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me.

2. I wish I didn’t work so hard.

3. I wish I’d had the courage to express my feelings

4. I wish I had stayed in touch with my friends.

5. I wish that I had let myself be happier.

All this really hit home with me: while I'm not in the same position as those people were when they had these regrets, I'm on the threshold of entering that period in my life where the decisions I make may result in said regrets. I've only been interning for a month and a half; in these 6 weeks, I think the sobering realities of life have been shoved down my gullet like the bitter-tasting antidote to fluffy fantasies.

I like writing therefore I will be fan-bloody-tastic at it? 

POOF.

Going out every night to catch up with the girls?

POOF.

Heck, staying up at night to do meaningful, adult things?

HA. Don't make me laugh.

I leave home at 6.45 in the morning due to my dad not letting me drive and insisting on dropping me off at my office on his way to work. I get home at about 6.45 in the evening, tired to the bone. It's not so much physical tiredness, more like mental exhaustion. It's really hard to be creative and witty (or at least TRY to be) for about 9 hours a day, it's hard to write something and get a less than enthusiastic response, it's hard to write through major writer's block, it's bloody hard to think that I'll be doing this for the next 3 decades or so. THREE DECADES! That's longer than I have been alive so far! Last night I tried to clear the fog in my head that sweeps in after 6 p.m. and think of a way to make as much moolah in as little time as possible. The only thing I could think of was to sell my kidneys, and I'd really prefer to keep all my parts in working order.

There is more caffeine than iron in my bloodstream right now. And that's the only thing keeping me upright. Oh, and I also sleep at 10ish at night.

HOW CAN LIKE THIS?? I'm getting old before my time!

With almost 70% of my life going into my job, it's almost too easy to see where those deathbed regrets come from. I'm fighting hard to keep to my path, but it's difficult when I myself am not quite sure where my path is taking me. I don't want to write for a magazine when I'm 40, for God's sake (unless I own it). Sometimes I sit down and try to think "OK May Lee! Where do you want to go from here?" but all I can think of in response to that is "Sleeep......" 

Stupid self. 

And while I don't work HARD, I am working harder than I have ever worked and it's totally taking up my life. What social life I have is squashed into weekends and most of THAT is actually spent with me in a half-comatose state. Ok, as of now I don't really have any issues expressing my feelings (I guess you can tell), so number 3 isn't really a pressing concern.

Sigh. Rant over. Irrational worries aside, I really do like my job; it's not boring and routine-bound and that can only be a good thing!

I'm really quite happy with the way things are going now (could always get paid more, though!): I'm done with uni and moving off into a different phase of life. I have a boyfriend who gives grade-A snuggles and makes time in his crazily hectic day to exchange strange Whatsapps with me at work (seriously, I burst into muffled snickers at some of the things he says). I have friends and family. There is NO DRAMA, my god you will not fully appreciate the peace that fills the void that drama leaves behind after it's gone until you have experienced the emotional turbulence that accompanies said mothereffing drama.

Can I just say that, whining aside, I am quite contented with life?

Now, to figure out the DIRECTION my life is to take...

Meet My Older Brother

You'd think 50-year-old English teachers would at least play some exercise-y game.