Bare lips
I was sitting in the LRT this morning, on my way to a job interview, when I realised I hadn’t applied any lipstick.
I wonder whether the lack of lipstick affected my chances of obtaining the job.
Hairy talk
I laughed reading this post and the resulting comments. Women have relationships with their hairdressers. We trade names of good hairdressers as seriously as corporate executives trade names of valuable contacts. We’ll go to the ends of the earth to locate a good hairdresser. And we would rather pay that much more for a good hairdresser instead of skimping and suffering an unsightly haircut. Sure, the hair will grow back, but meanwhile, we’d have to walk around looking like that. The mere thought of it is enough to strike terror in the heart of any woman.
Contrast all this with the men I know, who say, “It’s only hair!”
It’s only hair?! Word to the wise: Please don’t ever say that to a woman, unless you’re in the mood to commit suicide. To a woman hair is more than just hair; collectively, those thousands of fine strands represent beauty, femininity and sexiness. Yes, we have bought into the myths and perceptions perpetuated by the Big Bad Mass Media. But then, even a religious text like the Bible calls long hair a woman’s “glory”, so who are we to argue?
A weird suggestion over dinner last night
Male friend: “Didn’t you play with Barbie dolls when you were younger?”
Me: “Yes, so?”
Him: “Shouldn’t you be attempting to look like a Barbie doll?”
Me: “Barbie is blonde!”
Him: “You could always dye your hair.”
Me: “Why would I want to do that?”
Him: “To make yourself more attractive?”
Me: “You think changing my hair colour will make me more attractive?!”
Him: “Well, not exactly make you more attractive, but make you look a bit different so that you stand out from the crowd. Create a conversation piece.”
Me: “By turning into a Western-chick wannabe? I don’t need that kind of conversation.”
On smoking
Male friend, holding cigarette: “Why do you think so many men smoke? The cigarette is a bloody phallic symbol!”
Me: “Then what about women who smoke?”
Male friend: “They’re confused about their identity.”
No wonder they call it being married to your job
The problem with jobs is similar to the problem with men (or women, if you happen to be male): Can’t live with ’em, can’t live without ’em.
In other words, you want one, in fact you have to have one, but you aren’t too sure which one would be the best for you, and if you choose the wrong one, you’re screwed. Thank goodness jobs aren’t permanent - though by the looks of it, marriage isn’t permanent either these days, more’s the pity.
Maybe the chef was tipsy
I just ate the most salty fettucini carbonara I’ve ever had in my life. Yeech.
Women who want too much
Today I made myself depressed by checking out the property ads in the Classifieds. Real-estate prices in PJ are ridiculous, but I absolutely refuse to stay in the suburbs because the commute would be equally ridiculous. Bad enough that I have to go to work and endure the resulting stress; why add hour-long traffic jams to the mix?
Not that I’m planning to purchase landed property anytime soon, but it’s always good to stay informed.
The whole situation reminds me of something a friend once told me:
“I’m a young, struggling lawyer just starting out in my career and earning only RM1,800 a month. Women don’t even consider me a potential boyfriend because I can barely set aside any savings, let alone afford a car or a house.”
I know there are demanding, materialistic women out there, or women who are looking for a partner to provide them with financial security, but I think it completely unfair to have such high expectations of a man. Let’s be realistic: the majority of the men I meet are likely to be my peers, and - like me - are simply ordinary executives earning a salary best described as ‘decent’. If I can’t afford to purchase a house, what gives me the right to insist that he have the means to do so?
