Hot Wheels

It's Monday and I actually have time to sit at work to blog... The new software build is still not ready for QA. The whole process started on 9am Friday. Can you believe it? This is what happens when your company is greedy and tries to sell as many software licenses to the client as possible. End result... unmanageable NASTY software to deal with by the developers.

Anyway... I'm going to just enjoy the down time today since I haven't had any for quite a long time... hence... no new postings.

I strongly believe that we all relive our childhood experiences as adults. For the most part, we don't realize it, but we do subconsciously.

I stood in line at a post office with an Easter care package for an hour two weeks ago, while I watched others simply dropped them off in one of those drop-off bins. I kept on staring at the bin, wanting to approach it to drop-off my already fully postaged and addressed package, but something in me just kept me from walking 10 feet over.

In my head, I kept on making up excuses like, "Oh, that bin is only for 'special' packages and the line is moving anyway". I even started to do a countdown in my head. "Just another 15 minutes." Those "15 minutes" ended up being an hour.

When I reached the counter, I handed the package to the postal worker and told him, "I have $8.96 in total for the postage. I added one cent extra, just in case." He stared at the package then back at me with a semi-weird expression and continued to enter it into the system that I had paid $8.96 and then postmarked it for delivery.

When I saw him postmark the stamps on the box and dropped the box off into the sorting bin, I felt relieved. I took my receipt and headed back to the office feeling assured that the package was going to be delivered.

This is not the only compulsion that I have with our reliable (whatever) postal services. Whenever I mail a letter at one of those R2D2 tin boxes on the street corner, I tend to have to open and re-open the chute cover three times for good measure; as if the letter knew how to climb back out of the tin box. I noticed this compulsion early on, but never did anything about it because I tend to handle most bills electronically now; of course, until now that I moved into my studio.

For the past year I've been sending out my check at my building's street corner tin box to pay my maintenance charges on a monthly basis. At the beginning of each month I would have a fit with R2D2. Opening, closing, opening, closing, opening, closing the chute cover until I was SURE the check wasn't crawling back out.

This monthly ritual didn't bother me because I know that I have a "mild" case of OCD that I've learned to "out grow" with age... well... it's gotten better and most people don't notice it. But that day after the one hour wait in line, I really questioned myself, "Why can't I simply drop the package in the bin?" The answer did come to me later in the day when I was feeling the munchies. I was pouring out cereal and my co-worker glanced over and said... I love reading cereal boxes and all those toys that they try to sell to kids."

All of a sudden, it all made sense! When I was in the fourth grade, I placed an order for a Hot Wheels car via one of those cereal box offers. Needless to say, I never got my toy. I waited for days that soon turned into weeks and then months and of course, years. The Hot Wheels toy car wasn't the only mail offer that I sent for. I also tried to purchase a black and white film camera from one of those Bazooka Joe a nickel a piece gums. For both offers I saved up the required number of "box tops" or "comics" and sent the required shipping and handling fees. So... what happened?? Well... as a fourth grader, I knew nothing of "checks" and "money orders". I simply sent cash through the mail. Yes... I remember putting in nickels and pennies into a white envelop along with the "box tops" and "comics". After the incident with the Hot Wheels, I thought I got smarter. I assumed that the envelop simply ripped and the little nickels and pennies came out during delivery, so, for my camera offer, I scotch taped the edges of the envelop to re-enforce the seams. And of course... nothing came by mail. I felt cheated. So cheated.

My third bad experience with the US postal service also came that same year. I wrote to Santa Claus asking for a Teddy Ruxpin and he didn't deliver or write back explaining how bad I was and hence why I didn't get Teddy on Christmas Day.

It all sounds a little far fetch as an adult now, how something so long ago still can affect you as an adult. But, let me tell you... when you saved every dollar by doing chores around the house and collecting pennies off the sidewalk as a nine year old kid, NOT getting your long awaited toy MATTERS.

So... I had my taste of disappointment at an early age... so traumatized by the mail.

Sigh... "Dear Postal Worker who came across my 'Hot Wheels' and 'Bazooka Joe' offers with cash in the envelops, about 23 years ago, please return MY MONEY or send me my stuff!"

Client 10

Today started off as an ordinary Monday. Nothing special other than the fact that the stock market was going through its continuous mood swings. Bear Stern got butchered over the weekend as Lehman Brothers was next on the radar to be hacked on the butchering board. I think Lehman will be spared when they announce their earnings and disclose their liquidity tomorrow.

Around noon time I was waiting on line patiently for over an hour to send an Easter care package. I was bored out of my mind and that was when my "client 9" texted me and invited me to have dinner with him. I texted him back and things were set for 7:30pm... he was going to disclose the location when he decided and I waited patiently for hours... long story short... "client 9" sent an evite to me via email and I was simply waiting for a text message all day... needless to say, we didn't meet up for dinner and decided to meet up on another day. It was just an innocent misunderstanding. And to those that are wondering what type of person "client 9" is... he is a well dressed young man (custom dress shirts and all), makes very good money, and has a thing for quality prepared food. :) No. He wasn't paying for my escort services... I'm always free anyway. LOL... In any event, he's just someone special.

As I waited patiently on the 34th street train station to head home, that was when my escort aura attracted "client 10". An Irish man perhaps, short blond hair, slightly thinning on top, 5'9", 170ish lbs, late 30's, blue eyes, and always a constant smile.

He first caught my attention when he threw a Canadian quarter at a rat running across the tracks. *BING* "Ahaha....", he laughed next to me. "That was one of those Canadian quarters. It ain't worth much otherwise I wouldn't have thrown it. Hey... it's St. Patrick's Day... what's a quarter, right? Ahhaha..." I looked at him and just smiled and giggled a little like a geisha girl. You know, one of those giggles that kinda says, "Okay, alright. Whatever."

"I'm actually heading to Grand Street to get me some CHINESE food... and to get some herbs." He stressed the word "Chinese"... I could've sworn.

"Oh. Really? You like Chinese food, uh?"

"Yeah. I'm also going to see an herbalist for my ear. I have an infection in my ear because I have this tiny hole in my ear drums and I've gotten five infections in the past three years. I first got it checked out at St. Vincent's hospital and they said I needed surgery to close up the hole, but I was like, 'No. Cut open my ears? No way!' I only have a 5% hearing lost, so I'll deal with it."

I'm like... "Okay...", but I was being polite and my geisha escort services do require me to hold intelligent conversations. "Wow. Five infections in three years? That's pretty serious." In my head I knew I was doomed as all trains on that platform was headed to Grand Street. Sigh... the B train arrived and he waited for me to pick a door to enter before he followed. The next three stops was completely information overload and completely TMI.

"Yeah. Five infections in three years." At this point... I was certain that he did have some hearing lost as he was screaming at me on the train and the two seated Russian ladies in front of us was staring at him then me repeatedly.

"Yeah. I only have a 5% hearing lost. My surgery was suppose to be at Mount Sinai Hospital... where I was born and circumcised. Ahahaa..."

As he said that, he waved his hands over his groin area and smiled. Needless to say, the Russian ladies are now covering their mouths and whispering to each other.

"I was going to get the surgery, I mean, hey, if they cut down there and whoa, I'm all fine... then you could assume that it'll be alright if they go into my ear, right? The surgery was going to cost twelve hundred dollars."

I just had to stop him before he started to describe how his penis looks like with a circumcision.

"So. Twelve hundred dollars is a lot of money to pay."

"Yeah. But my insurance was going to pay for everything. I didn't need to pay for anything. I have Medicare and Fidelis. I just didn't want to do the surgery because I told my doctor that I have a lot of gas sometimes and that I sometimes wet my pillow in the middle of the night because the gas just comes up. (I think he meant acid reflux disease which causes him to salivate and to drool stomach acid in his sleep. In any case... EWWWW...) I also have to take Pepcid AC all the time for it. The doctor said that because I have this gas condition, he would have to put a tube in my mouth during the surgery. I was like, 'No way! A tube in my mouth?' So I just decided that I wouldn't show up for the surgery and I called the doctor a few days later and said that I needed to reschedule the surgery. And it's true about all this that the doctor told me. I looked it all up on the computer. It's true these days that you can find anything on the computer. I even found a picture of what a hole looks like in your ear drum. It looks like a half moon. Nowadays I have to be very careful when I take a shower."

"I guess you have to put a cotton ball in it before you shower, uh?" DUMB question... I asked a very dumb question.

"Oh yeah! More than that. I have this thing that I have to squeeze and wrap a napkin on it and stick it in my ear."

As he was motioning to me how he "sticks" this thing into his ear, he pulls out a linty dirty shiny (from ear wax) yellow ear plug and starts rolling it between his fingers to show me how he uses it in his shower.

"Oh... of course I have to clean it first", as he smiled on. He was so animated and happy that I asked him something.

As the train pulled into Grand Street, I quickly said, "Hey. This is your stop." He didn't look out the window, but instead, looked at me and looked a little disappointed of having to get off. I didn't make eye contact with him, but then I said, "Good luck with the ear infection." He nodded and headed off the train as he said, "Shhh... I'm here to pick up some amoxcillin too other than the herbs". As he walked up the stairs, he looked at me with a small smile and waved good-bye. I nodded my geisha nod as part of my good escort manners and smiled back at him.

So... I missed out on "client 9", but picked up a "client 10" for the evening. Strangely enough... he was definitely not my type, but, he did have an easy going charm to him. I don't know where to place him in all this, but I think I would remember him for some time.

I guess we can all learn something from him... We can still live a happy life with a hole in our ear.

"Good luck 'client 10'... I still prefer having dinner with 'client 9' at some fancy restaurant, but hey... you made me laugh... and laughter is important. Thanks. BTW... a Canadian quarter is worth more than the American quarter now. You can toss those at the rats next time."

Emotionally Available?

Sorry... this blog took such a long time to publish... I guess it is finished now... Click on the youtube video below and let it play as you read this entry... it kinda recreates the internal emotions that I've been having as I wrote this blog.

I finally wrapped my head around this topic of whether I'm "emotionally available". I haven't pondered on this for sometime until I was actually asked if I was emotionally available by a recent Cali transplant. We were just talking about relationships in the most general sense when he asked the question, "So, are you emotionally available?" I was a bit caught off guard and had to think for a split second before I gave off the impression that I wasn't. Not that I was interested in him, but I guess I didn't want people to think that I still had "issues".

It took another five weeks for me to completely re-evaluate myself... well... the answer still isn't crystal clear, but I do have somewhat of an answer for this blog. Perhaps by the end of this entry... all will be clearer to me.

I have been trying to make myself emotionally available for some time now, but it is clear that I'm not "fully well". I guess that's why people tend to have "rebound guy or girl" to help usher the relationship emotions back on level ground. Rebound guys are important apparently... they help create a sense that you are still worthy to be admired and loved and that the break up wasn't entirely your fault.

I decided not to have rebound guy or girl because I felt that it would have been selfish of me to be in a "relationship" when I wasn't fully emotionally available. I had several opportunities where I could have had a rebound guy tho.

Aside from several possible rebound guys, I did find myself attracted to one or two other possible potential boyfriends. Unfortunately or fortunately, these "possible potential" boyfriends didn't work out either. I perhaps didn't make myself emotionally available fast enough. Sigh... one of these potentials is actually "married" now. I guess that's how the world turns. We are still close, but, it does make me wonder sometimes -- "What could have been?"

My recovery period from a break up is apparently 2.5 years on average. I'm fast approaching that point. I thought this recovery period was suppose to get shorter with each failed relationship. Well... I guess it's different between breaking up with a boyfriend versus being "married" and going through a divorce. The break up of my last relationship felt more like that my other half just died. There was no closure... at least, that's how I felt.

Perhaps I would have recovered sooner if I understood or knew why we had to separate. I asked several times on several occasions, but I really never got a proper answer; perhaps, not an answer that seemed sensible to me. I struggled for a very long time trying to grasp the logic behind it all, but alas, love is not about logic - sometimes. The answer finally came to me last year when I found out that we broke up because I wasn't "attractive" anymore. After knowing this fact, it didn't help me either. I felt helpless afterwards. It was a hard blow for me because I could change my habits and the way I do things, but I could never change the way I look.

Well... in all fairness... the word "attractive" also doesn't have to mean something physical, but, that was my initial interpretation. I also do realize, that I am generalizing a whole lot; as the details are not needed to answer my question of whether I am "emotionally available".

It was hard to swallow this fact, but I now accept it. I am not the most "attractive" person. I do not exhibit outwardly qualities that lore mice like the Pied Piper of Hamelin does. I am simply me... a simple guy with not much to offer outwardly. I think my "qualities" have to be "discovered" to be appreciated... and this is where I falter. People these days are into quick instant gratification... who has the time to go exploring the inner qualities of a person?

I can change. Yes I can. I can be more flirtatious... I can do a little more sweet talking. I can "put out". I can make a lot of promises too. I can even go for plastic surgery if needed! But... all these "improvements" would make me a fake... so I feel. I don't know. Maybe I can find some common ground to compete with all the Pied Pipers out there?

So, to answer the question whether I am "emotionally available"... I am "emotionally ready". I have noticed that my heart doesn't physically hurt anymore when I think of him. It hasn't for a while, but what does hurt is the fact that, not only did our relationship deteriorate beyond couple-dom... I sometimes feel that I don't know much about him anymore. And this is what bothers me now and what actually makes me teary eyed. I don't cry because of our separation anymore, I cry because I feel that the connection between us is on the levels of "hello", "good-bye", and "have a nice day".

Is it wrong to ask for an in-depth non-couple friendship? It seems that this type of relationship is rare and not the norm for most people these days. It's all about having a separate set of friends for travel, a separate set of friends for clubbing, for dining, for gatherings, and yet another set of friends for professional growth. I even know friends that don't want their separate groups of friends to mix. In my mind... I want all my friends to know each other like a huge family. I guess this is not how people normally think.

I guess I may be asking for too much from a former-relationship. I think this is my problem. I ask for too much from my ex's. Somehow, in my mind, I don't want my faltered relationships to change, but to remain the same, but to accept the fact that it's over. This concept is hard to explain or to grasp... unless you are me. I'm very different than most people when it comes to this. I have the ability to love my ex's as I've always did, but at the same time, know that we are not together. But for most people... when a relationship is over... the connection between the two is reduced to "just friends" in the looses terms. This is my predicament.

After thirsting for an in-depth conversation with him... it came. "Ooops... we didn't get to dance this time", he said. "It's okay", I said, as we went to bed. I laid there thinking about our friendship and a tear rolled out as he coincidentally caressed my face in the dark. I quickly wiped it away. "I know. It's my fault", he said. "No", I said. He too had a tear roll down his cheeks.

All this time, I know he's thinking that it was the dance that we didn't have, but it isn't. It is the connection that we don't have. I suppose I ask for too much from a friendship. This I can't change, but I do accept. I suppose this characteristic of mine will always "burden" me... so let it be. I think I'm starting to move beyond the point of expectation to the point of indifference; a forced acceptance in a way. I'm not upset anymore; nor happy about it. Just an acceptance of the way things are. This acceptance is starting to become the norm of life for me now.

I realize all this sounds terrible. I am not bad mouthing him by any means. I know deep in my heart, that he loves and cares about me greatly. I also know that I am still someone very special to him. I know this won't change, I hope. This is simply about me... my acceptance of what I see in life in general. He is not the only person I feel this with, but I used him as an example because of my strong connection with him.

This brings me back to a discussion that I had with my mom when I was about 12 years old. I asked her why she didn't care about writing Christmas cards to her long time friends in Hong Kong anymore. She said, "Sometimes you treat your friends as friends, but they don't necessary feel the same about you. People tend not to value friendships like people used to." So I said, "But, if you treat people the way you want to be treated, wouldn't they know and treat you the same?" She said impatiently, "You don't understand. You will understand later that people don't think the way you do. You will understand when you are older." Our conversation or "debate" lasted for 10 minutes, but now I understand, and I see its lesson lasting for a life time. It is simply how life is. It's not necessarily a bad thing in life. It is just a part of life. Maybe it's a time issue, a timing issue, or simply we are just too busy, or perhaps the simple fact that life is meant to move forward and not dwelled upon - or reminisced upon. I guess people over time become less "yeat ching", the term my mom used.

I really enjoy the song in the below youtube video. It is sung by two of my favorite Cantonese singers. sigh... I don't know all the meanings of the lyrics... very unfortunately, but I understand the gist of it with the help of a friend. The most powerful line in the whole song to me, is actually the last line of the song. Basically, it says, "No matter whether your heart is in love or is breaking, the first rule of thumb is to have both eyes closed". This boils down to, don't see things so clearly as it causes you pain. Although I find the line to be very poetic, I feel that one should have both eyes opened and still love his/her special someone whole-heartily... otherwise, why love at all?