I've had my mobile phone for a year plus now and I never bothered to figure out how to upload the pictures from my mobile photo album. Talk about being a tech bimbo. Well maybe just plain lazy because it took me just about 2 seconds to plug in the cable, 15 seconds to install the CD, and heh heh 30 seconds to figure out which comm port I was connected to. Voila! I was in upload & download mode under a minute. Had loads of fun downloading pictures to use as wallpapers. AND YES! I've got Hugh Laurie staring at me now with his gorgeous blue eyes!
To mark the moment, I've put up this photo I took from outside Essentials FB last year. The sky was a stunning grey and the rain was about to fall. I was struck by the beauty of it. The picture quality isn't that great because my phone is not that great but hey it's serviceable enough.
On my way to a session last Saturday, I found myself missing my guy friend who recently got married. His face flitted across my mind and I recalled snatches of conversations we had and I wondered how he was doing.
I am always affected when I get these sudden bouts of missing someone. But that's the nature of it isn't it; how it can just grip you, unawares, when you are most unprepared and in the most inconvenient of places. So there I sat, in bus number 65, with the drizzle outside and my eyes tearing from the force of the dull ache in my heart.
His usual reaction to my text messages telling him that I missed him would be to brush them aside jokingly and then go on to call me for a chat or ask me to dinner or drinks. His subtle endeavours to assuage my wishing for his company.
Of course, I am in no position nor do I have the right to wish or ask for anything from him now.
The missing will wane and vanish, that much I know. After all, I am an old hand at that.
I stumbled upon this quirky song by The Dresden Dolls the other day that gave me much amusement.
“sitting on the shelf he is just a toy but I turn him on and he comes to life automatic joy that is why I want a coin operated boy
made of plastic and elastic he is rugged and long-lasting who could ever ever ask for more love without complications galore many shapes and weights to choose from I will never leave my bedroom I will never cry at night again wrap my arms around him and pretend....”
Oooh the idea! Heaven on earth for me would be a world where we could create a man for each of us, individually matched to suit our own personalities and needs.
So that got me thinking. What do I look for in a guy? I think us females have been drawing up lists of required traits since our early pre-pubescent years. Of course, this list evolves and probably gets revised, lengthens or shortens as the years go by.
Mine, currently goes something like this:
1.Height – Taller than me (Not that I am tall but it seems that guys are getting more vertically challenged each day!)
2.Appearance – A face I can imagine looking at for the rest of my life
3.Size – Strong enough to take all of me ; p
4.Communication – Open channels and able to keep it up
5.World View & Take On Life – Similar would be good (Can compromise)
6.Security – Enough to support me and family (Although a taitai life does sound appealing)
7.Religion – Practicing, knows enough to lead the family, aspires to develop spiritually together and believes in moderation
8.EQ – Enough to empathise, emote and express (oh and handle my emotional intensity and tolerate my idiosyncrasies)
Maybe it seems too generic but details I believe would just blind me to what is possible. There is of course that element of chemistry; of feeling a click somewhere and you know that it fits.
I've found one or two that fit along the way but I guess I was a mismatch for them. While I wait for reality to take over, I could do with my own coin-operated boy.
I was surfing YouTube for Hugh Laurie stuff last night. I've always enjoyed watching the man and his brilliance, ever since I saw him on Blackadder in what seems eons ago. I remembered catching "Maybe Baby" at the movies on the 5th of September 2000 because of him as well. I dragged Dil to catch it with me. No, I'm not schizophrenic – I still have the ticket stub. Have a photo album full of them. Alright, maybe I'm another kind of mentally disturbed. But I digress. Back to Hugh. I recently devoured the first two seasons of House M.D. with much relish. His American accent irked me at first. Can't help thinking the deadpan jokes and cryptic remarks would be funnier in Brit. But I enjoyed him nonetheless. That 47 year old man can still do things to me.
I watched Daddy Long Legs and Gigi over the past couple of days as well.
Then it came to me. The common thread. That I'm drawn to the Older Man. (Presuming, rightly, that I watch these shows because of the men and something about the plot too)
There's something alluring in the older man. The years he has lived, the maturity he has attained (hopefully), wiser conversation and just the plain beauty of a face etched with experience. Some Freud enthusiast would perhaps interject here and throw in the possibility that I would go for older men because of the one I lost in my pubescent years. Maybe a tiny grain of truth? In real life, however, the only older guy I have fallen for was merely 8 years older than me. His 29 years was older enough to my 21 years old back then. But that's another story.
I must admit however, that I am also drawn to younger guys. (They all seem to get younger these days!) Would I be doing a Mrs. Robinson to confess that I have a certain admiration for Daniel Radcliffe?
Or could I state without a single hint of desperation that I am amenable to guys of any age except of course for the very young boys and death-at-the-door old men.
Or perhaps to put it very delicately, in my very dear friend, Nas's words to another friend when we were 17, "She likes anything with a dick."
Walking back from my sister's place to mine, round midnight last Sunday, I could hear people whooping New Year salutations and see them throwing sparklers from the top floor of the block nearby. Arman (my nephew) was all excited but I didn't feel any sense of exhilaration...at all. As the years go by, I don't really feel anything different when a new one beckons. Neither am I one to make resolutions, don't believe in them. Just feel an added push to make good the plans I'm on or at least renew the spirit of them.
So I spent my early New Year's Day morning with Jervis Pendleton III a.k.a. Daddy Long Legs. I love musicals, loved them since I was a child. I remembered watching this one when I was much younger and being swept off. I know Fred Astaire is not much of a looker but he sure can dance. And of course, the songs. They don't make music now the way they used to. The simple melodies, honest lyrics and the voice.
Late afternoon, I watched Gigi. A 1958 production which garnered 9 Academy Awards including Best Picture. Enjoyed it tremendously with my sisters and my brother (Gasp, yes Man watched it! But then again, we always had that in similar-a penchant for musicals). The thing which got us cracking up was when Maurice Chevalier broke into song somewhere at the start with:
" Thank heaven for little girls For little girls get bigger every day! Thank heaven for little girls They grow up in the most delightful way!
Those little eyes so helpless and appealing One day will flash and send you crashing through the ceiling
Thank heaven for little girls Thank heaven for them all No matter where no matter who For without them, what would little boys do? "
Just visualise a dandified player in his late 50s singing that while eyeing little girls. It's just so WRONG. Gone are the innocent times! Or maybe we have become more perverse.
I went to bed listening to Sarah Vaughn. There's nothing like the voice of the Divine One to wind down to. Her voice holds such longing and yet at the same time, hope. Something, I trust, I still have, in multitude...enough to last me in the years to come at least.
