BABES AND HUNKY MEN

Oh yeah, baby. I mean babies with their daddies.
No no. Not babes with their sugar daddies.
Always had a thing for hunky men holding their babies in their arms. Kinda make me go "ouch".
Whoever tells you that its not macho to carry your lil one in your arms ought to be thrown into the deepest end of Loch Ness.
That is as macho as you can get, guys.
There's nothing sexier than a hunk of a guy carrying a toddler in his arms.
Once, a long time ago, I saw this really gorgeous guy, pushing a stroller with one hand and holding the hand of a child with another.
He was manouvering the aisle at a supermarket.
I tell ya -- I quickly offered to lend him a hand.
But, oh well. Obviously he was very not single and so not available. Sigh...
Why am I talking about this?
I was in line at the gas station at about 9pm the other day. In front of me in the queue were two guys, wearing casual Ts and bermudas, each carrying his child.
Oh! Tender moments.
Funny, guys with babes can still get the (other kind of) babes. Gals with babes turn the guys away. Sob sob. Meow.

ACCEPTING & FORGIVING

I have decided that the only way to not look back at black spots in my life with Antonio is to get the demons out of me.
In other words, I must first forgive him and then not ask any more. In order to do that, I must discard any feelings of suspicion about anything that remotely links him to any woman.
It is really quite simple,I have discovered. Although it is easier said than done.
I figured that asking Antonio about his indiscretions and transgression will not get me anywhere.
First, he is not going to admit to anything. Sure, he'd admit to having coffee or tea with so-and-so. But, would he admit to anymore than that? Not that I am told that he had anything more than that.
Usually, my suspicions would be based on proof of something much more innocent than that.
But they are usually suspicions.
I have learnt also that suspicions are very dangerous to be flirting with.
The reality is that Antonio is a wonderful human being. He is the most considerate and loving and romantic and oh so much more.
He is dishonest? He pleaded innocence. He said having tea or coffee with a woman friend does not make him unfaithful.
That intimate relations with that certain woman? He has denied. What more do I want him to say?
That does not mean that I trust him completely. Trust is a very elusive thing, you know. But that can no longer be the issue.
When a close friend told me she was going to "tail" her husband so that she could prove to him that he was indeed having an affair, I was the wise one who told her that she should be very prepared for some very unpleasant things.
I told her that if it was true that he was having an affair, was she ready to leave him? Go through the divorce proceedings, If he admitted to it and refused to leave his mistress/girlfriend?
She did get the proof, the husband did leave the woman but they have a rotten marriage.
Life is really short. There are things we have to learn to live with. And to forgive.Meow.

OH, BRITNEY!

If my daughter were still into Britney Spears, she would be the one having a nervous breakdown right now, I can tell ya.
She would freak out at seeing Britney's shorn head. She might even have nightmares.
Thank God, she is over Britney. In all probability and honesty, so are millions of girls who like my daughter lived their pre-teen years loving Britney's image.
Britney was clearly a phase. At least for my daughter. Oh. It was fun while it lasted.
So, question - why did Britney shave her head over the weekend?
A nervous breakdown or a publicity stunt?
Or she simply wanted to "rebel". To do whatever pleases her. Just sending out that message.
Now, if it was a nervous breakdown, could it be because of the persistent hounding, taunting and scrutiny by the merciless entertainment media OR because she is missing that persistent media chase, realising that she is soon going to be a has-been, if she isn't already?
A publicity stunt to revive her fallen singing career?
Rebelling against what is expected of her as an artiste and entertainer?
Or this "aging" pop princess has gone off her rocker? Gone bonkers, and totally freaking out?
I think it is a little of everything.
She is not going mad, that's for sure. Because she still remembered her mom, telling the salon owner Esther Tognozzi (who refused to do the shaving job) that she was quite worried about her mom seeing her new head.
That is still a sign of normalcy, if you ask me.
If it was some attention she was seeking -- well, she sure got it.
Britney, Oh Britney. You have come so far at such a young age. Fame and fortune. Two marriages, two pregnancies.
What's there for you now?
How so many girls wanted to be just like you. The whole Britney package -- talent, looks, fame and fortune.
Now, as the ruthless US media echo, you are famous for just being famous.
I can't tell you how thankful I am that I have never been a pop princess and never had the crazy relentless Press hounding me, day in, day out.
How it must be to not be able to be yourself even in the private company of close friends. Because you never know who'd be "kissing and telling", for a price, of course.
You just can't trust anyone. Certainly, not your ex-husband. Meow.

NEVER FOREVER

Does love get stronger with time or does it fade and slowly but surely dissipate into thin air as though it was never there in the first place?
I'd like to think that love does get stronger, unflagging, solid, unshakeable and unchallenged with time.
How could it not be? Does love not grow bigger and bigger as a relationsip progresses?
Are we not in control of the way love is and should be? Or is this just so impossible?
Is "forever and ever" just a romantic myth that is and should be uttered in love and romance stories in books and movies, and never in the real world?
Funny thing, I had never taken any interest in romance novels. I leapt from classics, Enid Blyton, Sadlers Wells et al to Hemingway, DH Lawrence, John Le Carre and Nadine Gordimer.
Most of the other girls would get the latest Denise Robbins or Barbara Cartland from the book store while I'd go for dad's library and grab something else like, say, "Far from the Madding Crowd".
I envied their amazing sense of elation and empathy as they got involved in the drama and intrigue, in the heroes and heroines.
I too wanted to have that feeling so I could share their experience.
But it evaded me, even as I attempted to read these novels.
Unfortunately, we -- these books and I --never got on a good start.
Oh, I am not pooh-poohing these novels. The elements of love and romance are integral in books written by some of the great authors of our time. There is no doubt about that.
But, until today, I cannot explain why I am unable to enjoy a Barbara Cartland book.
Yet, I am all for good old fashioned love and romance.
I am a bona-fide sucker for commitment and devotion.
And I would therefore want love to be "forever and ever".
My question is -- is that too much to ask? Meow

GONG XI FA CAI!

I wish everyone a very happy Chinese New Year! May this year of the pig make us all fat (figuratively) with luck, happiness and prosperity.
And to others --let there be love, and lots of it!
Let me remind my friends who have to make the long journey for the holidays to drive carefully.
Cheers and all that is gooood!

WHAT COULD'VE BEEN...

Do you have days or nights when you think about your past? About what might have been, what could have been if you had made that one decision about your love and life?
I have many of those days and nights. Not because I am unhappy with my life. Far from it.
I think it's because I am just that sort of person whose mind is full of thoughts and (wild?) imagination, of course.
And not because I always think about or dwell on my past. Not at all.
I often sink into moments of reverie. The past always ambles in, taking a big part in these reflections.
And then, I start thinking of certain central characters in my past life.
I wonder about each one of them. What if I had decided to not let go of any one of them?
What would my life be now?
These moments almost always come when Antonio's indiscretions visit me. Or when I am convinced of his infidelity.
That is when I think I must hold back a lot of my love to be able to get a good perspective of my love and my lovelife.
When a woman is just sooo in love with her man, she is just sooo blind to ...well.... to anything about him.
Man, when she is in lurve, he can do no wrong, can he?
So, I figure that I have to get a reality check regularly. I tell myself how easy it is for someone like moi to slip and slide, to not see, to be blind and blinded.
Meanwhile, when those moments of the past come fleeting by, just reflect. You can never bring back the past.
I am sure we all agree that there is no benefit from dreaming about what could have been, except if we could learn from the mistakes we made.
Still, if the memories are good. Dream and dream. Meow.

OH! VALENTINE

Happy Valentine. I hope you have a great Valentine's Day. Sigh, sigh, sigh.
I won't have my Antonio with me tomorrow (February 14). I am not in town. Away for business.
So, No Antonio to celebrate Valentine's Day with. Drats!
But I shouldn't really complain. Everyday is Valentine's Day for us, anyway.
Sometimes, we even forget it is Valentine's Day, and have to remind each other when we see all those Valentine's Day promotions all over the city.
But, it never really matter if we forget.
It's not the same like forgetting birthdays or anniversaries. Now, that's a sin punishable by death.
These past few years, Valentine's Day is like any other day.
It comes and goes before either of us could say "happy val...".
Let's face it. Valentine's Day is really for the young -- teens-in-love, the young-in-love.
There's a lot more kick you get out of Valentine's Day when you are er er.. younger.
You reach a point in your life when symbols are unimportant. Substance over form is what I go for.
Actually, I did remind Antonio that we won't be together on Valentine's Day.
He was actually, very genuinely surprised and asked "oh, when is that?"
He didn't even realise that Valentine's Day is February 14. That, or he was putting on an act.
"Oh, don't worry, love..... you're my Valentine everyday".
Did that sound mushy or did I fall for it, hook, line and sinker?
Oh, well. That's the love of my life talking.
Happy Valentine, everyone. Meow.

NICOLE, NICOLE

No, not our dear Nicole Ann David, Malaysia's world class squash player and pride. But Anna Nicole Smith, former American model and Playboy centrefold who died under very mysterious circumstances, on Thursday (February 8) in Florida.
She was only 39.
Although Nicole Smith was familiar to me as the man from the moon, the news of her passing was shocking.
After the initial shock, a tinge of sadness.
But, wait.... why do I care?
I don't. But I can't help it. She had been in the news for oh-so-long.
And now, she is dead. Even the circumstances of her death are full of speculations -- did she die of natural causes, drugs, or foul play?
Poor thing. Not that I know her to feel pity for her.
Ok. Standing on neutral ground and as a complete outsider and stranger, I am thinking, poor thing. All the court battles,,, all unresolved.
She had an infant daughter, Daniellyn who would never know her mommy. And only five months ago, her son, Daniel, 20, died of a drug overdose!
Well, Nicole died as she lived, hogging the headlines. At this point, we still do not know what she died of even though an autopsy had been done on her. Medical examiners do not rule out drugs.
She was known to be on drugs and other substance. Other people think she was killed.
The issue of the paternity of her daughter is also being battled. Two men have claimed to be Daniellyn's daddy. And then there is Zsa Zsa Gabor's husband in the fray.
You see what I mean,
And so, a judge has ordered that her body be preserved until the issue goes before the courts.
Billions of dollars are at stake in this paternity claim because whoever is deemed the biological father gets to keep Daniellyn and the millions she may inherit.
Then again, Daniellyn may get nothing if the court decides to throw out Nicole's claim.
Goodness, you'd think that she was the first woman President of the United States or she was some top-rated movie star.
Whatever, she was a celebrity.
She has no bearing and makes no difference to my life. Yet, I seem to be drawn to stories about her. What did she represent? I can't quite explain it.
Perhaps it's because every woman can relate to some bits of her life, somehow.
I can tell you that she was one hell of a woman. She did not back off or back down after numerous court rulings over her claim on her late husband's estate.
She was back and forth, back and forth to court. I felt tired just reading about it.
I had never realised that I had been following her life story since the day she married oil tycoon J. Howard Marshall in 1994.
I mean, how could you miss the headlines the first time -- former stripper and Playboy Playmate, 26 marries oil tycoon, 89!
What a guy! What a gold-digger of a woman!
And then another headline 14 months later -- Tycoon Dies, Former Stripper Inherits Billions!
She killed him! She did it! I know she did it! She wanted his fortune!
See, how easy it is to form a conclusion, to be judge and jury? And how unfair? I had profiled her so unjustly.
Just because she was a sexy young blonde bombshell who went into marriage with a very very old man, and now that he was dead after only 14 months of marriage and therefore had made her a very young widow and a legitimate beneficiary to his vast estate.
Just like in the movies. I was to feel so guilty about this image I had of her, although, I must confess, that there were times that I did not. She seemed to have a perverse delight in the bad publicity.
So it was that in the next 12 years (until her untimely death) Nicole and her stepson, E.Pierce Marshall, fought tooth and nail in court over the old man's fortune. It was undoubtedly one of the nastiest court battles.
Nicole was everything you despise in a woman, yet she had admirable qualities.
She was fodder for the tabloids. For other women, it would be hell. But, for Nicole, she seemed to bask in it. Yet, you wondered whether she really did care or give a damn. Or , simply went with the flow.
Was she was made of steel, had thick skin or she was simply, really dumb?
She kinda grew on me. Sometimes I could see a bruised and embattled woman, a mother, emerging from this image of a ditzy Marilyn-Monroeisque blonde with awesome breasts.
Sometimes, she was a plain starightforward gold digger. And then, you remembered that she was also a mom. How devastated she was when Daniel died.
Nicole did not live life to the fullest. Or did she?
Whatever. She died with some legal battles still unresolved. How tragic.
I never knew her. What was fact and what was fiction, about her? I'll wait for the movie. Meow.

TRUST & THE BLAME GAME

Haven't you ever wanted to tell your partner this: "You'd better not screw this one up." This would be after you had given him another chance at the relationship.
We're assuming, of course, that he has not so far screwed up the relationship.
But, really, how can you tell him that without sounding menacing. And men don't like to be "menaced" about. They don't like any ego-deflating action against them. Their machismo or macho-ness threatened.
But, it is what you want to tell him. Don't bloody screw up this time.
There's a better idea, so someone told me, but one that may not agree with your feminist side.
A well-meaning old aunt had this advice -- "be sweet and desirable for him when you are with him, take care of yourself, make sure you are always smelling good and delicious and pretend he aint yours the minute he steps out of your house."
It makes perfect sense -- if you are his sex slave!
See, I believe that physical intimacy is very very important in a relationship. In fact, let's be real, it is the nourishment, the fulfilment. Without physical intimacy between two people in love, then you just have friendship.
But, it takes two to tango, it takes two to make it happen and un-happen.
You love me, warts and all, as I love you, warts and all and over time, flab and all.
That is not to say, that after 10 years with a man, I will let myself go. That I will not take care of myself physically, because he has to love me for me and for what I am and have become, and everything that is in and with me, including that 5-inch of fat & flab I have accumulated since we first fell in love.
Of course, I will take care of myself as I expect him to do as well. Not for anything else save for health reasons.
Oh yes.I will be sweet with him as he should be with me. And I will be smelling so good for him because I feel good being so.
But, I should not think of him as mine the minute he disappears from sight?
Er, aunty, no can do!
It is not an issue of ownership. Oh, I sound like an old record. I'll say it again. It is about trust.
The minute he walks out the door, I cannot be with him but I have to trust him to not be flirting like there is no tomorrow.
That's the deal we have made. I have kept my end of the bargain. I suppose I have to trust him to keep his end, although I am fully aware that men will be men. But at the same time deluding myself that my man aint like the rest.
I remember a little family conversation I heard when I was not-so-young.
An aunt said that a certain female relative whom we shall call Lucia, had it coming (read:hubby having an affair and planning to divorce her) because she had "not been taking care" of herself and of him.
"She always looks a mess. What do you expect when he comes home and sees her looking like that, smelling of fried onions and garlic? She is always cooking the same dishes for him."
The teenager in me thought that that was a sure-fire way to lose your man, that men value looks and physical appearance more than sacrifices from a woman. That men want their women to look like Raquel Welch (she was the babe in those days) and be like Barbie dolls.
Because I thought Lucia was such a devoted wife, slaving at home for her man, and he did not and could not appreciate that?
Anyway, the young and naive woman that I was gave a tongue-lashing to Lucia's husband the next time I saw him.
Today, if someone told me that her husband or partner was having an affair and was going to divorce her, I would, first and foremost, NOT judge her, nor her hubby/partner, then tell her that only she knows her man to know whether or not he is worth keeping.
Someone I know did something I thought I would do if I found my hubby playing the field.
Having heard that her hubby had a mistress, she caught him in a car with the scarlet woman, followed him, crashed into his car, got into the backseat of his car and attacked the woman who was in the front seat.
To cut the story short -- he did not immediately leave his mistress but did later on. Wifey forgave him, methinks.
Between wife and mistress -- wife was a beauty-with-brains woman and mistress was a little bit of both.
Dunno what went wrong. But that was 20 years ago. They're still together.
Moi? When hubby had an affair, I just told him to get the hell out of my life. No mercy. Meow.

JUST ANOTHER DAY

Ah. What a wonderful weekend! One of those weekends that you wish would last longer than 48 hours.
Nothing spectacular, really. I don't know what's your idea of a great weekend. Mine varies.
But last weekend was the lazy kind of nice weekend. To some, maybe mundane, even boring.
It was a lazy-hours-eating-at-dad's-and-at-the-club-with-kids-and-family-and-Antonio weekend.
Very stess-free.
I thought I'd cook the kids some pasta, and then bring some to my dad's. But, oh....changed my mind.
Went to my dad's instead. There was a delicious lunch spread. But, I had already made a date with my sister and her daughter for lunch. Had Chinese. Yummy.
Back at dad's and had some of that delicious lunch spread. Oh...I am a glutton.
No worries. Will burn off some of that real soon.
Never told you that I am a keep-fit freak, huh?
More time spent at dad's.
Then, before I realised it, it was dinner time.
More Chinese. This time at the Club.
After dinner, back at home. And then....zzzzzzz.
Sunday was even better.
Me and Antonio. From AM to PM.
Me and him, still working on that trust. Going on really well. Meow.

LUST & A WHOLE LOTTA LOVE

Excuse me if I sound like an old-fashioned mama. But I am one of those who believe in the one-man woman and one-woman man concept, even though here we are in the 21st century.
To me, some values don't change with time. No matter what.
I don't know why it is such a big deal for some people, usually men, to remain mono-amour.
Is it so difficult to be faithful to one woman, the woman you love.
That's why sometimes I think I live in another time, in another place.
Despite the fact that I have seen infidelity all around me, I still hold on to this mono mono love-lust thing.
Ok. Take mon amour, Antonio.
He says I love you to moi like a thousand times a day. I am his only love, he says. Man, I sure as hell, believe him.
You can feel these things, you know. You can feel the love, the l u r v e. Yes, baby, the l o v e.
And the lust too. Ooh... the lust.
But, the question is -- am I his only lust?
There are things about Antonio and moi that I cannot reveal. Must not. Surely not in this open global diary of mine. Suicidal. Aint right. So, I shall keep some things out of the picture.
I write this blog as a therapy. Catharsis. Panacea. Letting it all out.
For many reasons, I don't confide in anyone about any problems of mine with regards to my love and life with Antonio.
People think we have no problems. Two people so in love and clearly in lust. Ouch.
Well, we don't, in the strict sense, have problems as other couples do.
My issue with Antonio is only one -- trust and fidelity.
I had never doubted his fidelity and had always trusted him. That is, until a couple of years ago.
Oh, he did something, in my book, that is beyond forgiving. But, strangely enough, I forgave him. Something I thought I could and would never do.
Aah. Sometimes I surprise myself.
And then, things were ok. In fact, never been better. Until, late last year. Almost left each other. Yep, over the issue of that old friend of his. (And she aint even pretty! But wait a minute, it is never about looks, right?)
Nope. I insist. I was NOT jealous. I just could not understand why he could have kept it from me.
But we kissed and made up, as it were. Couldn't live without each other, you know, that sort of thing.
But, he did a silly little thing after that. He had promised me he would not meet her as planned. You know, long time no see thing.
But,he did. They met for coffee. I know. Someone told me. I even know when, where and for how long they sat.
Actually, I was ok with that. Nothing wrong, really in having coffee with an ol friend. I can understand him not wanting to disappoint a very old friend. And did I say that she is married? And actually a nice person, though I have never met her.
But, then again, serious affairsoften start with that innocent cup of coffee.
And now, this other woman. I know I should not overreact. But why shouldn't I?
He asked me whether I had ever wondered why someone would want to tell me about it now.
I know his point. My point is exactly that too. Why would someone want to tell me about him and that woman.
He denied any truth to that story. I am supposed to believe him. I do and I don't.
Either he was lying because he did not want to upset me because, really, there was and is nothing between them.
Or, there was (and is) really something and he is not about to admit to anything.
Any man in his right man will never admit to anything, right?
I am not at all accusing him of sleeping with her (as the story goes.)
How this person knew about his supposed dangerous liaison with this woman, beats me.
Really, how does anyone know if anyone was sleeping with someone unless that anyone or someone had talked about it.
Even then, how can we believe it to be true.
It is not whether I believe him or not. It is whether he had been truthful to me.
So Antonio, the love of my life -- we need to work on that trust. Because I want to be your only lust. Meow.