Since I have a smaller, and more diverse, group of friends to draw upon, I went to a sporting/activity night arranged by one of Back-Up Boy’s (BUB) friends, Party Hardy Girl (PHG), and left The Boy at home. To be fair, The Boy wanted to watch the game and I… didn’t.

Let me refresh you about BUB’s new friends. (I refuse to acknowledge them as “old friends”, long-term, or as close friends of his… even though he’s been on trips and dates with them.)

Almost a year ago, BUB went to a singles event with his Motherlander-wannabe friend, King. There, they met PHG and her friend. King went out with PHG but they quickly become only friends. BUB wooed the friend who turned out to be highly allergic to commitment. These girls tended to bring the new boys into their group and introduce them to more people, exponentially expanding everyone’s social network. After a no-go with PHG, King pursued a girl in the group named Gwen, whom I only mentioned for the first time last post, who is on-and-off with her boyfriend and wouldn’t commit to King. Finally, BUB pursued another girl in the group named Libby and she didn’t give any indication she slow down her partying ways.

For the record, neither King nor BUB are party-hardy. King sleeps early while BUB is more flexible but prefers to live a good lifestyle that does not include boozing, cigarettes, or club-hopping. Goodness knows, guys and girls will do crazy things to find love.

Guys who love sports stats (like The Boy) would notice that between the two boys, they are 4 for 4 for meeting commitment-phobic girls in that group and they are nice and sensitive boys ready for their last romantic relationship and I dearly do not want to see trampled them taken for granted. I can only guess that they hope that 2 of the 4 will settle down (sometime) and within this kind of crazed Motherlander groups, it doesn’t really matter which girl you get.

(Bitter much? I know I am.)

So, due to a variety of factors (The Boy never having been a swaggering Motherlander-wannabe partying type, me having a huge chip on my shoulder, being coupled for nearly 2 years, and generally not being so stupid with our money), The Boy and I are not invited out even though we’re each “friends of friends” of entrenched members. We were invited on the trip and didn’t go for different reasons: I never have enough money while The Boy didn’t feel it was 100% appropriate for us to join a bunch of singletons for singles-friendly winter getaway debauchery.

Anyways, I was a little nervous as the sporting/activity evening drew near. My friends (Kiki, a friend via BUB; The Boy’s BFF#2; and The Boy’s BFF#4) were not coming yet BUB felt comfortable leaving me with PHG and the gaggle (six of ‘em) of her friends I had not met before. He, you see, had to take care of this other girl, Heather, he met at yet another singles event, didn’t really click with, but invites out for sporting/activity dates.

To sum up my sensations over four hours of the evening:
* The Other Gwen is cuter, thinner, a better player than I, and an authentic Motherlander. That someone as discerning as King likes her makes her seem inordinately gorgeous to me. (I have issues, I know.)
* Heather struck me as quite handsome and seemed increasingly handsome as the night went on and she readily talked about her vibrant career.
* PHG regaled us with partying stories. She likes to pick on BUB and I wondered if Heather was equally unimpressed by BUB’s participation in such mindless entertainment.
* Of course I missed The Boy’s phone call and of course we both know he felt left out and as if I was having too much fun to talk to him.
* I chat with another King and had “a moment” witnessed by all when one of the attendents took an interest in my Smallville origins
* At the end of the evening, BUB drove me home and that’s always the nicest part when he’s all mine!

You may reasonably suspect that I’m jealous because I don’t want anyone to have BUB if I don’t have him. It’s not true.

Over the years, as it happens with all friends, you really get to know someone: if you’re like me, you consider a new guy you meet as a boyfriend first and he will dispel your illusion anywhere from immediately or heartbreakingly after you’ve imprudently started a relationship. Over the years, I have learned to trust BUB so much and I really cherish the things we can do together that does not overlap with other friends or my own boyfriend. However, BUB is too eager, too much of a novelty-seeker, not quite arrogant enough, and all sorts of other small reasons that I eventually would not like.

I feel (helplessly) protective about who BUB dates because I know he’s looking for a commitment and I kind of want the girl to be more like me and less party-hardy. I know I’m crazy to think so much of his future. If he marries the likes of PHG - or, worse, inappropriate-looking Libby - she and her friends will engulf him and I worry that there will be no place left for the “Americans” he used to call friends, that he is by origin. I want to be able to double-date with him and his girl when he finds one. If our kids are the same age, I want them to be able to be friends.

Back-Up Boy (BUB) and I have this weird arrangement where we share our social calendars with each other. It’s something not so weird between a guy and girl who are dating, but do I really need to know that BUB went to the gym for an hour yesterday?

Further, BUB’s calendar is driving mine to shame with his new party-hardy friends. I consider them as new friends still, as it has not yet been a year while I have been friends with him for over two years and Girlfight Girl (GFG) and he have dated and they have been friends for over ten years. Anyways, BUB provides all the details for his outings including where, when, and who with. Yes, all the people in attendance for a dinner party are listed.

I felt hurt when I read BUB’s calendar and saw the attendance list to a dinner in honour of BUB’s most recent wooing-victim. People. People BUB’s meeting, partying with, FB-friending. I’m not thinking about it in the context of my own recent and very quiet dinner party at all. While I seethed that BUB went to “the hottest club in town” while The Boy and I merely walked by it during the day, I took consolation in knowing that The Boy’s BFF#4 refrained from clubbing with that group and joined us fuddy-duddies at The Boy’s BFF#2’s place on Saturday night. I further consoled myself that BFF#2 passed up the party to hang out with us.

I told The Boy about the social outing and my inferences. This is ammunition The Boy can later use about how I stalk. I told The Boy that our life, his friends, and mine are boring.

I told him about my frustration with my BFF#2 bemoaning that BFF#1 and I don’t live in Metropolis but - thanks to FB - we see her doing her favourite things anyhow with a second tier of friends. (The Boy likes to remind me that she’s not a real/good friend.)

I relayed to The Boy how one of the party-hardy girls was talking smack on an FB group about a showdown/game between The Boy’s BFF#4 and someone named Gwen and about betting on Gwen. The Boy was skeptical that the Gwen mentioned was me when BFF#4 and I never got into a rivalry over that sport. (Gwen is a popular name in my generation in my culture.)

Then, I saw the FB pictures from the dinner party are up and tagged (hence I am able to view them). There is one particularly happy group picture with BUB where everyone’s happy and hugging each other Motherlander-style and my heart sinks. There is a picture of BUB about to take his first taste of some special shooter and my heart sinks. There’s a picture of the guest of honour and her adorably adorned cake and my heart sinks. There’s a picture of a cute girl named Gwen and my heart sinks. (She reminds me of the youngest Zuppa sister, Carrie.)

I took the time supposed to be used to get ready for work to look at all the FB pictures of the party-hardy girl(s) tagged.

My rage/cultural identity crisis/disease of the soul flares only every few months. I told The Boy that I wanted to be mistaken as a Motherlander (of the classy variety): by my actions, body, voice, penmanship if, alas, never in my wardrobe. Being consider “American” really bites and this terror of it flares up every now and then.

While BUB was out being accepted by the Motherlanders - a feat he seems to easily do with cash flow, a hot car, and an easy-going novelty-seeking attitude - I was learning more about my culture by installing their fonts on my computer. While we are both learning more and “improving”, the differences are enormous.

When your hair is limp and way past due for a haircut, your lips are dry as sandpaper, your complexion wonky, and your sweater is riding up, what happens?

Why, you get your first chance to talk to Work Crush more than him simply saying, “Can you do this for me? Thanks.”

In a common area, I ran into him and was prepared to ask him what the deal was with the decoration going on in the room he shares with several other guys. He told me that there was an office in the opposite building that was often decorated so they wanted to provide some colour in return.

This lead to me asking him at which stage he was in his training. He told me that he was in his last year of university and I nearly choked. Please, let him tell me that he had a quarter-life career change… Nope. I couldn’t resist and asked him how old he is: he’s nine years younger than I am… or 70% of my age…..

I glanced at his wedding band as we talked and wondered to myself, “Sheesh, did you get married at 18?! Who does that these days?!”

In our conversation, it came up that he lives with his parents and I couldn’t resist asking if he was married. Because if someone is married and living at home, hey, I want to know how often that happens in this alterna-world that is Lotusland.

He said he wasn’t married and explained that his girlfriend gave him the unadorned ring and the only finger it fits on is that ring finger.

(If someone told me that in a bar, I’d be the most gullible person alive to believe it. But I believe it when it’s told to me at the workplace!)

In the midst, we talked about random things like living in Lotusland and coming from away, living in university residence, and our internships.

It turns out that he’s on an 8-month internship at the company so with careful treading, I hope this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship. =)

(On a somewhat related note, I want to befriend a really sweet girl at work. I also pointedly asked her one day if she was engaged because she wears a small diamond ring on her ring finger. Funny how I meet two people putting forth false impressions of their relationship status…)

It was kind of touching that The Boy asked me to move in with him despite the context: he doesn’t like heading home from his place and being alone and apart from us.

I’m not ready to move out of “the city” to the ‘burbs.

I’m so “Western” to believe that he needs to have a segment of independent living instead of going from his parents’ house straight to his wife’s house/co-habitation. I’m also a bit sadistic to want to see what trouble he gets into going from man-child to domestic self-sufficiency.

How sad it is to take up his offer and move into the “in-laws’” basement? It’s an ever-increasing reality in the crazy real estate climate of Lotusland but sooooo embarrassing!

Ideally, you don’t move in together to save money or for the sake of convenience. You live together and share a life because you love each other!

Are these rational reasons? Or am I exhibiting cold feet about the relationship and/or fear of being closely scrutinized?

The Mother broke her silence to email me this morning. She wrote briefly and grammatically-correctly, entreating me to send e-mail congratulations to my cousin (elder by two months) on his marriage recently celebrated by in The Motherland.

Sure… ugh…

Later in the day, I checked my mail and received an email from another cousin (elder by two years). Why would he write his fellow cousins out of the blue except to tell us he and his girlfriend just eloped! They have been together for a few years and have been friends for over ten years. In fact, I knew them back during my stint in Metropolis, back when his girlfriend wife was dating this other guy I had a mini-crush on!

So, here I go, sending my sincere congratulations and gift card(s) with money I don’t have!

I told The Boy that it’s tremendously easy for us to legally get married if we wanted to make our year 2008. He’s thinking more the auspicious year when the Olympics come to town…

I need closure so badly.

No, not about a relationship (though I keep thinking that I see The Boytoy around town and that makes my spidey-senses go off). I need closure about a job.

I didn’t get my dream job in for the perfect company, at the perfect location (close to home), with the perfect responsibilities for my skillset. Instead, I get to languish and fear that I’m getting locked out of my field for every passing day I’m not in it.

I need to re-hash all the reasons why I don’t think I got the job and I need to stop thinking it was ever mine to lose. Because that’s I managed to dream and fantasize that the job was as good as mine. Then I learned the reality on Friday - ominous email from the interviewer pops up and you know you didn’t get it.

* I mentioned a weakness that was inappropriate for their considerations.
* I didn’t have questions about the science.
* My socks were showing and they were pink with stripes.
* I mentioned too much of my personal hobbies that I thought made me qualified for the job and proved my passion. I think it alluded too much to a personal life and I need to spin it differently next time.
* I was not concise in my communication.

This interview haunts me more than academic mistakes I’ve made in the past. I got rejected. It hurts so much to have pinned my hopes and dreams on one job and have someone decide that they did not agree with that.

Oh, I really hope the person who got it was not an eager new grad with just one degree. Or I hope the person who got it was overqualified with his/her education.

I believe in job karma and karma in general. When I was job-hunting, I believed in working steadily away at looking for a job even when interviews were lined up. In retrospect, that’s just the smart thing to do because you can’t pin all your hopes on the one or two interviews! I wanted to cheat the transit system once or twice when my journey was incredibly short but that makes me a less deserving person.

Also, I need to gain some perspective. The Boy was displeased that I started my current job for various reasons: he thought I would see Ray often and it was Ray who managed to get me an interview; with the time I get off work and the time to travel home, it’s half an hour later than “our usual” meeting time and he’s in limbo and grumpy about it; instead of continuing to wait for a different job, I took one that was far from home; and, most reasonably, because I’m not thrilled with my job, he’s not so happy either.

We lost perspective when I started my job: we forgot that it’s not for forever that I trek thanklessly across the city day in and day out. I will change up, perhaps within this year, to the company I want to be with, or some other one in my field. I will be re-applying in two months’ time with the wisdom I have gained from working and dire rejection and from the stability (non-desperation) of having a job right now.

(Still, The Mother can read between the lines and aspires better for me that I don’t care too much to talk to her while I have a “shit job”. It was a mistake to tell her I had another interview because now I further don’t want to talk to her to tell her I didn’t get it - got rejected - still locked out of my field.)

Today is the first day of The Boy’s transfer within his company. He changed locations to one very close to my house. It was supposed to be perfect with us working in the same area right by my house. How could we avoid, then, settling down in the area I love best in Lotusland? It’s complete irony that when he started to work in my neighbourhood, that I would leave it temporarily.

At the beginning of last week, I was informed of an advancement opportunity. Everything is still in the works, as in it hasn’t even started a week later, but at the time, I laughed internally: I’m outta here, I thought. But I’m not.

So I may as well make the best of it: get that darned promotion dangled before me and the accompanying raise, befriend the girl who is so nice to me, and maybe talk to Work Crush one of these days before we’re not longer working the same floor! ;)

How many times in a day can I run into Work Crush?

In the morning, I saw from a distance that we would cross paths in a narrow hallwasy so I yielded and he thanked me and we actually said, “Hi,” to each other.

In the afternoon, I was walking by one of the bigwigs’ office and was startled when I saw Work Crush at the other end of the office, messing around with some boxes.

A short while later, when doing the second half of my rounds, I was confused and standing outside Work Crush’s office and he was tearing up some boxes and talking to his office mates and I walked by and he nearly towered over me and I melted a little and got not just a little hot to see his bod….

It’s okay if I stop my thoughts of him when I leave work for the day, right??

Finally, when I was delivering a case to one of the other bigwigs, I boldly walked into his office because I could see the bigwig was on the phone. But when I crossed the threshold, I saw that Work Crush had been out of sight, sitting at the meeting table, waiting. I was startled and gasped!

I need for him to know I’m not just a ditzy admin-type. It makes me tempted - oh so tempted - to invite him to drinks after work….

I should look harder to discern if there is or isn’t a ring!

Edit: I Facebooked him and found him without ambiguity. His network is listed as Uni.‘09. What the-?! Very likely, he is younger, as I know he’s in a training and pre-qualified stage but graduated from his first degree. Maybe he’s taking a grad degree and graduates next year?

Though I “promised” that I would stay on in my Joe Job for several months, I interviewed for another position yesterday. To be fair, it was the second time I applied for the job - I want it that much - and the most recent time I applied for it, I submitted my application two whole weeks before I applied for and interviewed for the current Joe Job.

I cannot ignore the features of this job and how they seem all aligned for me….

* The position draws upon my diverse background of academic knowledge in addition to my softer skills and hobbies, like writing!
* The office is seven short blocks away from my house, i.e., it is seven minutes of walking gingerly in heels. I moved to my neighbourhood in Lotusland to be close to the research institute and this company.
* The company is second-largest in its bustling field in my prosperous province that has one of only three clusters in the country.
* From the founder of the company to my former co-workers, there is a history of people joining the company straight from my former research institute.

The interview was nearly all positive but I can dwell on the details - “Could I have said it better? I could have said it better!” - and I’ve got over a week to dwell on the details.

…. I know getting the job doesn’t fix me, but I would have more time and money for my issues….

Eeek, did February just end (even with one extra day) without me writing again?

I settled into a Joe-Job but *cross your fingers* good upheaval may start as soon as tomorrow….

As I cheekily mentioned in the comments of my other blog, I’ve been 29 years old for nearly a year. My birthday is just around the corner and I’m ambivalent….

Part of me wants something “normal” like The Boy planning a surprise party/dinner for me but I know for a fact that he wouldn’t have the contact info for most of the people I call friends in this city.

Back-Up Boy (BUB) seems to be bailing on my birthday weekend plans. And we all know that BUB will have the largest number of attendees at his 30th later this year. That’s because he’s socially promiscuous.

A female friend of The Boy’s is having a get together three days before my birthday. I’ll pretend….

The day before my birthday, I’ve got a training session and it may have a large turnout and we’ll go for coffee afterwards and I will pretend that I’m loved.

I’m being pretty darned flaky to not tell The Boy what I want because I want a surprise. Here’s what I want him to empathically decide upon….
* Take me to dinner at a swanky restaurant (not necessarily the finest of dining) without reminding me how it’s something he’s doing for me. I prefer if he had the sweetest disposition just for that evening no matter what curveballs the place throws at you, short of truly horrendous service and food that has gone bad.
* Take me skiing.
* Take me on a weekend trip out of this city/state.
* A Coach or LV bag. I promise not to lose it.
* Jewelry.
* A gift card to my favourite clothing store

I think any but the last item are adequate presents for a milestone birthday.

I’m going to ask Ray to go out for lunch since my birthday falls on a Monday.

Lil’ Sis called me because The Mother had left the house in tears. We thought someone had died.

I called The Mother and it was “simply” the pack of lies and amount that Lil’ Sis and I feed her. I am the primary culprit.

Aside from talking to Lil’ Sis about everything under the sun for a few hours, I called The Mother and we talked for six-and-a-half hours.

It started out with a big ole shouting match about lies and dashed expectations. For once, I explained what I was doing for the past few years but it was too little too late. Surprisingly, there was a stretch where we were somewhat civil and talked about the future like there was a trace of a hopeful glimmer to it. Then, of course, you can’t ignore the blatant lies and huge breach of trust and The Mother resumed crying and despairing.

So many years ago (just 9 whole years ago), I made a similar decision without involving The Mother. I was backed into a corner and I lied to soften the blow. But I’m perenially a terrible liar compounded with leaving incriminating evidence around. You’d think I haven’t learned and I have… a bit.

As you can imagine, a lot was exchanged in six hours. I’m still lying about how much I get paid and the exact position I have secured for half a year. Even the embellished position was viciously lambasted… as it should be.

I know. I’m in a worrisome place right now. There isn’t much to be happy about from having left something to the non-permanent position I have secured. But I will be happy and when I am, even if I haven’t the title The Mother wishes me to have, she should be happy with/for me. But she swears she won’t.

I think I’ve been disowned and I have to fight against the bars I’ve placed between us with my constant lies.

I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. I knew that I would be worried for The Mother’s fragile emotional state…. The reality is worse than the speculation. =(

The relevance to relationships?
* The Boy is in the loop about how I’ve lied, how I got busted, what a mess I can get myself into, and my lack of confidence that pervades my life. Can he really love me unconditionally?
* The Mother blames all the people I associate with (BFF#1, BFF#2, Back-Up Boy, and, of course, The Boy) for influencing my decision. Yes and no.
* Can I ever balance my little dreams with a relationship? I have to redeem myself in my own eyes. I may never be redeemed in The Mother’s but I can redeem myself in my own and those who are not so easy to lose faith in me.