just minishorts.

Eric says I fit perfectly into the Category 2 of women, 'The Anything Lor… girl' according to this video (thanks Paul!).

As much as I've to admit my guilt, I am not too happy with the entirety of that opinion. Oh you know that conversation from generations ago, the one where the man very courteously asks 'What do you want to eat?'

'Anything.'
'Would you like to have Japanese?'
'Nah, I don't feel like Japanese.'
'Would you like Thai then?'
'Errr… I have an ulcer.'
'Ok, let's go to a hawker centre, you can choose from anything you want.'
'Don't want lah, I don't like the crowd.'
'Errr, then what do you want to eat?'
'Anything.'

It's overdone, it's repeated, and all the MID have told me before, 'I wish there were a restaurant called 'Anything Restaurant.'

I think both sides of the gender are to be blamed for this mind-boggling situation. It's like this, most guys can't be bothered to think about a place to have a date PRIOR to the date, and then they leave the decision making to the girl. But the girl usually hopes that the guy was romantic enough to decide on the dating place first, she wants a surprise (most girls love surprises). Unfortunately, it's a futile hope.

Then again, how come people don't ask about the other side of the coin, like, why can't guys make the decision, take you to the place, and surprise you. As far as I know, I've never heard of a girl who isn't thrilled when her man takes her to a place where he's already reserved a table, and pre-ordered the dishes. He doesn't even have to order her favourite foods, neither does he have to know that his girl HATES eating cream of celery (I had this the other day and it sucked), but it's the thought that counts. The ingenuity of actually PLANNING out a date prior to taking her out is what increases his sex appeal, rather than the usual option of picking her up, and then asking her, 'What do you want to eat?'

Repeat the conversation, but instead of 'What do you want to eat?' Just sit her in the passenger seat, and tell her, 'I'm not sure whether you're going to like this restaurant, but you tell me after the meal all right?'

My first date was fun, a long long time ago, that date where I sort of knew he was going to ask me whether I'd be interested in a serious relationship with him. That was a date where he sat me in his car, and instead of asking, 'What do you want to eat?', he told me this, 'I'm taking you to this restaurant, it's nothing classy okay?'

I so happen to like a man who can make decisions, mmkay?

At the restaurant, he asked me first, 'Do you take fish?'

I nodded, and he turned to the captain, 'Patin, steamed.'

And then he turned to me, 'Any vegetables you don't take?'

'Err… I don't like bitter gourd.'
'All right. Choy-tam okay for you?'
'Sounds good.'

And he told the captain, 'Stir-fried choytam.'

Then he asked me once more, 'Tofu?'

'Yeah sounds okay.'
'How'd you like it?'
'Urm, any way's fine by me.'

And then to the captain, 'Hot-plate tofu.'

Just like that, the order was made, quickly, and in a very sexy decisive way. I still think it was a damn sexy way of taking charge, and despite the unromantic atmosphere in that typical Chinese Tai-chow restaurant, that first date still goes down in my memory bank as one of the greatest dates of all time.

I guess after a while, the guy gets tired of taking the reins, and resort to very un-macho-like questions like, 'So what would you like to eat?'

Eh, all it takes is a rephrasing of the question, and something simple like this, 'Can I take you somewhere nice?'

Of course the catch is that you have to decide on that somewhere nice before you ask her, okay? You can HELP HER decide on what to order once you're both there. And even if the food turns out tasting horrible, fret not. Usually we females are too nice to complain about bad dinners out. The most we'll do is laugh about silly dining choices, and that date will be one to remember for life.

Sometime ago, we fell out.

That's all right, we didn't have to have similarities to be friends, neither do you need differences to be enemies. That's fine.

You keep up.
You read things like this.
You cringe.
You choke.

That's natural.

You're so vain, you think this post is about you.

The kink in disgruntled people who are unable to disentangle themselves from the hauntings that rope them down, is just that. When something bad happens (that in no way, refers to them), they think, 'Is it me?' 'What's wrong with her?', and then they brainwash themselves into the chant, 'Must be, must be, must be, no one else.'

The truth is this: it might be you, it might not be you. Because that that you've done, it's not just once and this post could have appeared in another person's blog. Another person that I might know, but more likely than not you won't know whether I know that person, more than likely it's happened before.

Then you'll die trying to scratch your innards thinking about whether it's got to do with you, why does it have to happen to you.

I like the flattery of the finger pointing, if it rocks your socks, then I say whatever makes you happy, dude, babe, honey, sweetie, then okay, this post is about you. But then I'm sorry, you're really wrong. Come, come, we should really just smile at the weekends, and then our friends don't have to cringe so much and talk up other meet up spots, just so that we can genuinely talk about things that matter, definitely not you, but bags and clothes, and stupid things people do, like think that written rants are about them.

You're that aunt-in-law, but then actually, you're a man, no you're just a tired mother, actually you're that lost child. Was it you? All right, I'll give you a clue. We shared a drink once.

But because you think, it's all about you. You think, I was am talking about you. You think, it starts from us. Because of that once.

When in truth, it never was about you.

My take: it's CNY around the corner, and spring means starting afresh, maybe not with me, but definitely with yourself.