the backstage epiphany

where reality is so subjective it's entirely optional

Monthly Archives: July 2007

Time’s a-tickin’

Six months left. Where did the last six months go? Wasted. Wasted on a thankless job. Wasted on something that wasn’t even going to secure anything except a steady, and albeit measly, cash flow. Wasted on a promise that was broken three months ago. And yet… along with all that came a reason to hope and pray that the next six months won’t be wasted like the last.

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Unfinished business

“Can you make a mistake and miss your fate?” – Carrie Bradshaw, Sex & the City

Once upon a time, a girl fell in love (or at least what she thought love felt like) for the first time. He was 16, he went to the same school, he looked like Devon Sawa (which was the general consensus among the girls in her year), and the most amazing thing was that he appeared to like her as well. But being too young and naïve to understand how a relationship works, things turned very sour very fast, and she spent the next two years wishing she’d gone to another school. Now, ten years later, they’ve begun to patch things up, and even talk about a reconciliation.

What are our reasons for a reconciliation? Is it the guilt of treating the other person badly, and therefore the need to make up for the mistakes we made? Could it possibly be that — dare I even say it? — the feelings have somehow been reignited, after ten years of not talking to each other? Or — similar to the reason that people who die come back as ghosts — is it just the curiosity and the intrigue of what could have been if we hadn’t made those mistakes, therefore turning the relationship into some ‘unfinished business’ that just needs to be taken care of?

We spend all our lives searching relentlessly for that person who understands us, whom we can talk to on our own level and be completely comfortable with even though there is more than one ocean between us, and who tells us not to panic if they suddenly appear offline on MSN because they just know we will. And now here they are: the one person we haven’t spoken to for ten years is suddenly back in our lives and we’re left wondering if they’re back for a reason. Maybe we were meant to make those mistakes for a reason; maybe we had to grow up before we could find that one person. For some people it might have taken ten years for it to happen, but maybe we just had to get on the merry-go-round until it was time to stand still with the right person.

Faith

faith [feyth] Pronunciation KeyShow IPA Pronunciation

–noun  

1. confidence or trust in a person or thing.

Is it really dead? Or are we so burned by life itself, and become so cynical, that we’re incapable of having it anymore?

When we hold on to something — a job or a relationship — even though we’re not very happy with it, is that a sign of faith — faith that eventually the tide will turn and that long-awaited promotion will finally come, or that the other person will come to their senses and realize that they can’t do without you — or is it just the complete inability to let go? Are we so proud that we can’t admit that yes, we do still have faith, and instead resort to the bravado of writing something off as a lost cause?

Pet peeves

1. When driving, quickly decide which lane you want to be in. Don’t leave the bloody signal on for ages and not actually switch lanes. And it’s not called the fast lane for no reason; step on it!

2. Don’t bring your kid into any restaurant/store/mall until s/he’s at least five years old. That way nobody will be run over by strollers that are being pushed around by your kid, and nobody’s conversations will be interrupted by the constant clanging of silverware against flatware.

3. If it wasn’t meant to have an s, don’t put an s; if it was meant to have an s, don’t put in a z. LOL is fine, but please leave the S’s and the Z’s out of it. And nobody says, “Oh, wells,” let alone types it; it makes no damn sense. You’re a grown-ass man/woman. Type like a bloody adult and spell it the way it should be spelt, for fuck’s sake. And leave the apostrophes and vowels where they should be; don’t be lazy.

4. There, their and they’re. You’re and your. It’s and its. Get them right, you fool. N, u, ur and u’re are not acceptable; that’s a no-brainer. Again, you’re a grown-ass man/woman.

5. Don’t use the N-word unless you’re from a race that’s allowed to. You watch too much TV.

Dream on, little girl

Thanks Zhen Wei!

The curse of being a woman

A vicious cycle that never ends

If two people are seeing each other but are not in a relationship, is there some stipulation in the dating contract that the woman does everything in her power to make the man’s life unjustifiably easy? Is it a woman’s natural instinct to cater to him or is it just because he somehow just started asking things from her which eventually turned into a full catering service altogether? She may hate the thought of going out just to get groceries, but she will drive that mind-numbing 15 miles just to bring him food when he’s at work; she cooks for him when he’s sick even though she would never normally cook for anyone except herself; she forgets what movies she owns until he says that he wants to watch them and she has to dredge up from her memory who she lent them to so many months ago.

But when she huffs and puffs about not knowing where they stand and being stuck in that gray area, in the end she realizes that she’s really doing it to herself. He’s become so unwarrantably commodious in that little comfort zone she painstakingly built for him that he’s in no hurry to get out of it anytime soon to look around and actually think about where their little affaire is going, never mind that they’ve been seeing each other for a little over three months and each is well aware of how the other feels.

Which brings us to the question of why women put themselves through so much for their men. Whether or not they’re in relationships, are men genetically incapable of taking care of themselves, or are women just empathetic pushovers who actually like catering to the men? Do we really care that much, or are we just trying to see how far we can take it? And when we eventually do find out how far it can go, we’ll either be glad we went through all that trouble to finally get to where we want, or regretting that we put ourselves through so much just to end up in limbo. And that leads us to the most pressing question of all: How much is it all worth?

Purgatory

pur·ga·to·ry [pur-guh-tawr-ee, -tohr-ee] Pronunciation KeyShow IPA Pronunciation noun, plural -ries, adjective –noun

1. (in the belief of Roman Catholics and others) a condition or place in which the souls of those dying penitent are purified from venial sins, or undergo the temporal punishment that, after the guilt of mortal sin has been remitted, still remains to be endured by the sinner.
2. any condition or place of temporary punishment, suffering, expiation, or the like.

Why do I do this to myself?

Easier said than done

Sometimes we make decisions that seem to be the best ones at the moment and resolve to follow through with every shred of willpower and determination. And indeed, when we’re able to distract ourselves from the issues at hand, it’s really quite easy to stick to those decisions. We can resolve not to buy any more shoes because the shoeboxes are piling too high, and so long as we stay away from Bergdorf Goodman and Neiman Marcus Online we’ll be able to save those few hundred dollars. Or we can decide to go on a crash diet and as long as we remember that the only size left for that dress was a 2, those 8lbs shouldn’t be too difficult to lose. And we would be able to stop ourselves from calling that ever-unattainable person as long as we remember why they’re unattainable in the first place.

So with all these good resolutions in mind, why do we still tumble headlong into situations that we know are bad for us and send all our resolutions flying out the window? When Barneys New York sends their latest shoe catalog in the mail we can’t resist going online and checking to see if the Christian Louboutin Pigalles are available in our size. When the friend who is a size 00-petite and weighs 95lbs suggests going to Butterwood for dessert, we try to rationalize by thinking, “It’s only once in a while.” And when that oh-so-ungettable bachelor calls after staying away for an entire week and asks you out to dinner, you hear yourself saying ‘yes’ even before you can think about it.

Are we creating loopholes for ourselves, little corners of refuge to run to when we’re completely strung out and beginning to regret those decisions we made? Or are we making excuses to console ourselves and to try and justify our lack of judgment? Or were those decisions we made the wrong ones to begin with, and did we just make them in a heinously desperate attempt to pull ourselves out of our financial, physical or emotional purgatory?