the wanton diaries

2004-08-25T16:59:00.000-07:00

I'm Back!

I must apologise vehemently for leaving all of you. I have been meaning to blog for a long time. But it's taking stock time in the industry, well, it has passed. But you know what I mean, I've been very busy.

I can't blog anything very long and detailed at this point. So I thought I'd give you a little run down of what exactly has been going on. I've been working too much basically, and I am on a well-deserved break this time. But:

1. I was in New York for bussiness a few weeks ago, stayed for a few weeks as well. Met such handsome, intelligent men. It was almost like perpetual foreplay. Story time!

2. Benni and Ina are fine and dandy! Benni got a promotion at her bank! Woot woot Benni!

3. Liam is back with Rachel! Surprise, surprise..... but that's another story for another day.

4. Mat's wife had twins! Congratulations. Oh, btw have discovered that Ong reads my blog. But I have sworn him to secrecy and bribery. He's trustable lah.

5. I'm still single, and loving it. I've come to the conclusion that as long as I get in a bit of work each day, and make someone, even if it means Old Men in Suits happy, it just has to be fine with me. For now, at least.

So tell me, what's been going on with all of you?

2004-07-02T23:43:00.000-07:00

The Fruits of Our Labor

The past last week has flown by. What with being involved in a new PR shindig and working the client accounts I have almost no social life. It's meetings and more Old Men in Suits everyday. My nicotine, caffeine and alcohol intake is on the rise. But Mat, my boss has promised me by the end of July or early August, I will be able to take a long break. And I need it too, all the toxins in my body. I need to get to a spa soon before I implode.

While I have been busy, I have been trying to make myself happy at the same time. There is some sort of weird fulfillment from not having enough time to breathe because there's so much going on, and you delight in it because it stops you from thinking, temporarily.

Liam Ina, and I have been meeting up more often. And because he lives about 20 minutes away from me, he's been coming up to watch movies and fix the odd things in the house that needs a man's touch. I cooked him dinner last night and we both fell asleep on the couch. Him on the love seat and me on the day bed.

I know I'm treading on dangerous ground even though he never talks about Rachel (his-ex) or mentions any other women in the romantic or sexual way. I'd rather not know anyway. It's a lovely fantasy in my mind, us getting together although it seems quite laughable at this point for a variety of reasons.

There is an underlying tone of sexual attraction no doubt, we touch each other lightly and he looks at me a lot when I drive, which distracts me, but is nonetheless pleasant in a "My heart is racing," sort of way. He hugs me, big bear hugs and pushes my hair away from my face, picks food off my face when I eat messily, gives me massages, the works.

But he's never tried anything. And I'm petrified of trying anything because he might brush me off. But I can't stop making plans with him either because I love being around him. I think about him constantly, and he does the same! He'll SMS me during work, and email me or call for no reason at all. Just giving me silly one liners sometimes that make me laugh out loud.

I don't know what's going to happen, I assume I'll deal with it when it does. But honestly, I feel like a girl who is about to have her wildest dreams come true. An amazing guy who is paying this much of attention to me?! It's like something out of the Hallmark channel. And what scares me about this whole thing is that it could end just like that, and yet I'm still here?

2004-06-24T01:02:00.000-07:00

Patterns of Destruction(?)

Benni and Ina were over my place last night with Nandos and some Hooch and we got to talking about the three L's. Life, Love and Lust.

So we've realised that all the men we've dated, loved and fucked (not necessarily in that order) were men that we unconciously sought out through our very own dating patterns.

Dating patterns are exclusive to you and only you. You may share similar patterns with close friends or other people all over the globe, but it's true, everyone has a pattern. Be it that you like powerful men, artistic men, emotionally unavailable men, they are all patterns that eventually tie back to what you put about yourself out there.

For example, we have Benni who is very much into marrying and settling down that she unconciously starts every relationship with the thought that:

"This might be it."

While this is fine and normal human behaviour. Benni takes it a step higher and most men end up leaving her because she is too obvious. And it is true men my age are afraid of commitment and settling down, so Benni is like the Ultimate Love Tsunami of Relationships. They avoid her like the plague and this results in Benni getting drunk and Ina and me sitting consoling her into the wee hours of the morning.

We figure that Benni is like this because she's seen her parents and the circle of trust in her life include only people who've been married for ages. Her parents have been married for 45 years, her sisters for more than 10, and they all seem superbly well. It also doesn't help that all our newly married friends are basking in that same glow. To which Benni decides that she wants to have that same thing, and her life is not complete without marriage.

I love you Benni, but you have to learn. I've stopped counting. In a city of 2 million, life is hard enough as it is with work, traffic jams, MNG Sales when you've spent your paycheck and less than perfect men for all of us to worry about marriage. Plus, I don't want to lose another one to the legion of Smug Marrieds.

Personally, I think Benni just wants the hantaran. Ha Ha.

My dating pattern is slightly more complicated, we haven't figured it out yet. But yes, most of them are emotionally unavailable, and it sounds to me too masochistic, but it's true. I think discovering your dating pattern and then comparing it to your ideal partner is important. Because then you can clearly see what you lack and need to improve on so that you don't keep dating the same men over and over again. If there were only health warnings against this sort of thing.

AMARAN OLEH KERAJAAN MALAYSIA. CINTA BOLEH MEMBAHAYAKAN HATI DAN JIWA SERTA MENYEBABKAN TEKANAN MENTAL DAN EMOSI.

2004-06-21T01:22:00.000-07:00

A Kiss is Just A Kiss

A reader of mine tells me that I make getting nookie seems so easy. Ha ha. It's not :) Trust me. There's all sorts of shit that comes with sex and I'm in a place now where I miss it. I miss the orgasms and the cuddling later, but am not in a place where I want to do all the work.

I don't fuck for fun. And I usually fuck when I'm in love. Call me a hopeless romantic but I can't just turn in on and off like a blender. Sometimes, times like this, when I am alone and horny AND surrounded by luxuriously dating couples, I wish I could.

It's been so long since I've had any sort of action, let alone a good kiss. I mean, I don't know what's going on here anymore! Have men just forgotten how to kiss? Or is it just that I have impeccably high standards and an aversion to extra spittle all over my face? And the fact that I don't like my teeth banging against yours?

When I was young and morally righteous, I used to be a total Kiss Nazi. I would only kiss if I were in love with the guy, something like the fucking theory I have now. It's all bullshit really, we make these things up, plain and simple so that:

a. We don't get hurt
b. We don't lose control

I have come to learn that those two are just not possible when it comes to Life and Love.
I mean we all know, if he's a good kisser, then there's always a shot. Bad kisser, dump him right away, I'm telling you.

So here I am, wishing I could be kissed just once, very nicely. Nice long, pink, freshly brushed tongue and teeth, no extra saliva and secretions, no groping, just a hand on my face, and lots of passion. Oh how I miss those days, when kissing meant everything and you could do that for hours, till your lips got swollen and you were out of breath and giddy from the mere prospect of just lips.

God, I'm old.

2004-06-11T05:12:00.000-07:00

Hey pets,

I'm sorry I've been away for so long. But things have been busy, busy, busy. One of my old high school acquaintances is getting married. Yes, another one bites the dust...

So last week was hen night in Bangsar where all us wummin proceeded to get absfuckinglutely sloshed. It was rather fun until the bride started necking with the bar-back. Ahem.

Everyone else insisted we get her back to remembering that she was to be someone's wife in the AM, but I disagreed. Let the poor woman have her fun ;)

So this week it's another wedding and much more drama to happen. The best man apprently is an old flame of Benni's. This is going to be an absolute riot I tell you! I have my dress all picked out too. I bought it from this funny looking shop in Petaling St. looks pretty good, red and it brings out the color of my eyes you see.

At least, the color of my eyes when I'm fishing myself out of the hotel pond the morning after the wedding with my head throbbing from far too many gin and tonics ;)

The joys of weddings you see.

UPDATES:

I have a healthy infatuation with the Chef at one of the restaurants Benni, Ina and I frequent. It's very healthy I know, because he is flirting with me and not the other way around ha ha.

I got promoted for closing a VERY BIG BIG account, not involving old men. I always knew my skill lied in charitable PR.

More updates soon, but for now, I'm going to be very busy. I KNOW I will have immense fun at the wedding so be on watch pets and have a good weekend.

Be good to your loved ones :)

2004-06-01T23:57:00.000-07:00

I Have Underwear On My Head

I can ascertain that I don't mind making a fool out of myself when I know I'm doing it consciously. But unconsciously, it's just embarassing.

We had a Board Meeting in the morning, you know the kind, long and boring, have one of those Update sessions on how all the accounts are doing bla bla bla.

I was wearing an uber uncomfortable bra today. Strapless and lacy, awful combination. And when you're a C cup like me and wearing the bra under two other layers of camisole and suit, albeit cute, it's just not worth it. And somehow when you look at it before you put it on in the morning it always looks cuter than when you have it on later in the day because you've so convieniently forgotten how strapless bras just Slip N Slide.

So, I took off the bra and draped it on the back of my chair and grabbed the Sellotape and put two strips on my nipples in case I had a case of "My Headlights are On" in the meeting. Karen came over and yelled for two minutes about how risque I was being, I brushed her off and laughed.

Big Mistake. But then again hindsight is always 20/20 and I was starting to get chafing lines from the Goddamn bra, so what hell, fuck it.

I was walking out behind Karen into the Boardroom and I could hear Mat (my boss) coming behind me. All of a sudden I hear this loud obnoxious laughter and Mat is screaming:

JEZ *laugh* JEZ *wheeze* JEZ *laughter* *wheeze* Oh my GOD! What are you doing? Your bra's attached to your hair! *wheeze* Is this a new look? *guffaw* *wheeze wheeze* And I swear I am not pulling your leg but the man collapsed on the floor, cluthing his chest laughing. If he went at it any longer, we would have had to take him out on a stretcher.

So much for the sexy librarian look. My stupid bra clasps which I rested on my chair had stuck itself onto my ultra professional hair bun. And I was walking around the office with my underwear on my head. The tragedy. And MAT of all people had to see it first. Christ, is there no justice in the world?

I knew bras amounted to crap, truly, I did.

2004-05-31T01:23:00.001-07:00

Diddling and the Jampi Theory

I am getting more attention that I warrant. I was perusing through much of the materials I am required to peruse through the course of my job as a PR suit, very expensive ones that leave me with endless bills no less (the suits, not the reading materials). This is so boring. The weekend was amusing. I sat in bed and ate cookies and ice cream all day. I'm now suffering from ant bites and a stock of fantasies involving me and a variety of men in very implicating positions.

So Ina just called awhile ago, her best friend Liam, who is also my friend and someone I've had the urge to just idolize from day one, had his Ex cheat on him. There's two problems with this:

1. Liam is fresh and new from a break-up and I will be the first one to say, I've been attracted to him for a long time. And I don't just mean in the "I Want To Shag You Senseless" sort of way. He is the epitome of an Alpha Male. The leader of the pack, that sort of thing. Talking to him is like mental masturbation, and we all know how I love masturbation of any sort! Ha ha. He's well travelled, well educated, well off, everything a woman could want. But, he's on the Rebound. And as much as I adore him, and want to have his children, I simply cannot put myself in the situation a Rebound puts me in. Taking the plunge is one thing, but sticking your hand into burning flames? I think not. Plus, I'm quite happy being single for the first time in God-knows how long. It's suprisingly liberating.

2. Rachel, his Ex who I mentioned cheated on him. Yeah, bit of a puzzle there, no? They're in the Ex phase so it's not possible to cheat right? WRONG. They've broken up, but are still very much conjoined. Which irks me no end, because she's keeping him on a doggy chain while diddling some new guy on the side and keeps him informed of her activities because they believe in putting shit on the table. What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

Do you understand how incredulous this sounds? And this is not something that afflicts only women you know, men do it too. Sort of holding back on making things final so that they don't feel as desolate, and as alone as they should feel after a break-up. It's pretty disgusting if you ask me. Liam has naturally been calling Ina and me for advice and still talking to Rachel. I've tried telling him nicely, I've tried calling her (Rachel) all sorts of names. But it's not working. Jesus Christ, it's almost like the jampi theory my mother talks about. He's just not budging. I'm wondering if she's amazing in bed or something. I bet I could top her, given the proper materials (handcuffs, honey and some good ol' fashioned condoms) but at this point it's just futile.

When will people come with a Use By date, because sometimes you need that to move on and to experience life again. I mean, by God isn't it bloody obvious the more contact you keep with an Ex, the more fucked up you will end up? ESPECIALLY when she's technically over you and fucking someone new? When will us mortals realise that Ex's are evil?

Ha ha. They're not really, this is case-specific, but you know what I mean! Have a good Monday my pets!

2004-05-26T21:54:00.000-07:00

Do all bloggers go through moments thinking of what to write? And what to say? And do they also get affected by the little opinion pieces commentors leave? I don't know this is all Greek to me. But here, let me say this once and for all.

I write this blog to hone my writing skills, parts of it are real, parts of it are not. To tell you which parts would make it so much less interesting, don't you think?

If you look at my first post, you and everyone else who reads this would understand, that I too have a very real life, of getting dumped, making up, making out, fucking, screaming, mood swings, panic attacks, office politics. I just choose to highlight only a few of them. There exists someone behind Jez, and maybe someday I will tell you all about her. But for now, rest asssured that this is what I want you to see, nothing more and nothing less. And the situations I write about are in effect, very real. And just this once, I will tell you that Zane was the REAL bit in that entry. From this point onwards, you're on your own. ;)

To add to that, why bother being real actually? Half the bloggers I read, they tell you what they want, in their own way. Blogging is just another masquerade and anyone who thinks otherwise, think again. At the end of the day, you're welcome to read and if you don't want to, don't let the door hit your ass on the way out :)

As for handling criticism professionally, oh why not? I'm in PR for crying out loud! And my mother always told me to treat others how you would like to be treated, she did. But plain out fights are nice too, there's so much more reason to take your clothes and fuck like little drunken monkeys, yes?

God, I love blogging.

*UPDATES*

I'm scarfing down a Crunchie bar and a Coke from the vending machine, I'm telling you, the diet has flown right out the window. There are huge clients to be serviced in a bit. Ha ha. Serviced! They are not attractive in the least, what a shame.

But I was surfing PetalingStreet.org and my blog statistics (I think it comes with the territory, checking stats! Ha ha!) and I noticed I've been mentioned by the Volume of Interactions about writing annonymously. I don't know if this is a new observation to people in Malaysia, but writing annonymously is in fact very popular abroad. Their content is debatable, some are blatant story telling and some are the blurring of facts and details to suit the readership, either way, like I mentioned earlier, I don't think it should matter should it?

Ina, the friend who came over last is the only one who knows about this blog from my life (for now, I have a funny suspicion that more will know soon enough). While I choose not to really blog about work matters, I will undoubtedly some time in future, I am in no hurry in revealing much about myself you see. Anyway, Ina thinks it's an absolute pile of rubbish and I shouldn't go around writing about my life and other people's depictions of theirs as material for my entries, but she's a prude, I've locked her in a closet.

Good God, why does it take so long to digest this honeycomb nonsense? I have bits of it sticking right into my teeth. Later folks, later. I must be my charming self and smile at Old men in 10,000 dollar suits. Sigh.

2004-05-26T01:01:00.000-07:00

My Life As A Trashy Novel

I see I've ruffled some feathers, eh?

Well, I don't know how Jude Devereaux or Jackie Collins writes because I've never read them! But as you see my readers do, and I'm quite honored! I mean, they've sold millions of books, eh? Why not? If you can't be a Booker Prize winner, might as well be a trashy novel. Things end so much better for the protagonist in those books anyway, what with dream weddings, tons of money and amazing men with the libido and equipment of a Greek God. I could only be so lucky.

And NO, Zane is not tall, dark and handsome, and there's much more background that what I've summarised there to be. But I didn't want to write all that down, blog or not, some memories aren't fit to be anything but memories. And bloody hell, if I ever end up richer than him, or do invent something, I'll let you know dear :) It'll certainly warrant a telling.

The race and religion thing? Ah. Let me tell you that when you're rich, and next in line for Daddy's bussiness, and you don't love the woman you are fucking enough to marry her, then really, what else is left? I wouldn't have wanted him to fight for me either, the idea seems totally inane now. I'm happy where I am. White collar worker and an extensive social cirle thank you very much. I am distinctly happy that none of you have ever experienced being dumped just because of race, something you were born into, and religion, something that exists only to divide. In fact, I wouldn't wish it on you even if you came in here and shitted all over me, you see I'm already in training for my the little Brainwave you have so kindly predicted I will have. I can almost hear the Soapy music as I cut into a room, Confident, Poised, Charismatic, Uber Rich (wearing a Prada suit and heels no less)

Gosh! That would be bloody fucking amazing.

That's my take on that. And I write because I do, you are not obligated to visit me or read my writing if it offends or displeases you, simply navigate your mouse to the little X at the top right corner of this very window. Not too hard for you I hope? Thank you very much.

*

Now, getting along.

Zane didn't call. I'm utterly grateful. Yesterday's Sandiwara Semasa has been postponed to a later time, if you will. Life continues in it's usual, mundane fashion. I've got to pick up dry cleaning today and it's a bloody hassle driving all the way down in the fucking jam AND, it looks as if it will rain. Sigh. I'm looking forward to tonight, Ina and Benni are coming over to watch a movie with me. Maybe I will bake or cook something. Must skive off work, must skive off work!

The Man is going out with his Ex again. They seem happy. I just wish I didn't have to see them around. Was picking up groceries at Cold Storage yesterday and I bumped into them. Why is it in a city of, whatsit now? 13 million? 16 million? You always end up seeing people you DON'T want to see? And do they always have to bump into your home turf? What ever happened in shopping in your own damn area? I know he lives in Subang, so what was the bloody need to come all the way to KL to get groceries? Jesus Christ. Cars should be outlawed I tell you.

I'm thinking Ravioli tonight?

2004-05-25T19:18:00.000-07:00

The Devastating Effects of an Ex's Revisitation (Part Two)

I met him one night at a bar in KL, he knew a mutual friend and we opted to go for supper while everyone went to someone's apartment to indulge in more drinking and most likely orgies, or something. That's KL for you. The usual, we started talking about our education. He was doing his Masters at the time in Princeton, and I was on a break from everything. He brought it up and we went to Thailand for a week, down and dirty backpacking. Bangkok, Phuket, Koh Samui, Koh Phi Phi, we did everything, and ended up staying for a month much to the dissapointment of his parents (by then my parents had already given up on telling me what to do). We only kissed once, on a dare by some strange Thai girl in a bar, and we were both drunk anyway. Yes, it's perfectly possible to be friends with the opposite sex. Yes, there were nights I wished he'd crawl into bed with me, and touched myself silently, long after he'd gone to sleep.

Then my father died, and Zane came down for a week. He was there for me I guess, took me out, and I never felt like a kid with a dead father around him, you know? Some people manage to just take the loss away for awhile, Zane was like that. And we were still exactly that, friends.

Then we started seeing each other more often when I was studying in the East Coast. Greyhound buses became almost a norm. Every other weekend, Easter, Labour Day, 4th of July, you name it, I was down in Princeton living it up with him and his friends. It was surreal. Dad had left a little bit of money for me to finish my education and I scrimped a lot, worked on campus as a librarian's assistant and did the odd jobs to make the burden less on my mother, but every weekend I could expect to get away. Zane had his Daddy's money and he paid for everything. Lobster dinners, rental cars, clothes, music, movies, parties, even took me sailing once when we went to Nantucket for the weekend. And his friends were all exactly like him. Malaysian poster boys of What Daddy's Money can do. Come to think of it, his American friends were like that too.

I won't be a liar and say I didn't enjoy it, I did. But I always knew something was wrong about the whole thing in the back of my mind. And the thing with Zane as most rich people is this elegance, charm and graciousness that they possess. Always fundraising with his frat brothers on campus for some cause or other when he wasn't getting blind drunk with me and the mates. After all, what do rich people have to be unhappy about? It's always easier being happy and good to other people when you know you have a Jaguar waiting outside and a big bank balance, eh?

So that was how it started. Proximity played a role, and we got to drunk fucking at first. This buddy-buddy thing, leaving options open and all that junk. He left his options wide open alright, I used to be surprised he didn't have a lifetime of Penicillin stocked up the way he tore through the women, and what women too. Always sampling the local delights he was. He finished his Masters, came home and I got done months later, and we continued seeing other people while fucking.... I want to say in secret, but we never really had serious partners so it was basically something we did, but never talked about much.

I don't know why I turned men down those days, why I still hung around Zane and why he hung around me. He got to be a permanent fixture in our house and I in his. Funny what comes to mind. Once when his parents were away on vacation in Melbourne (they have a house there), we fucked on every single surface that came to mind. He was okay in bed, nothing spectacular, but what he lacked in technique, he made up for in enthusiasm. Sometimes too enthusiastic. We were trying it sitting down one night (on his mother's chaise lounge trimmed with some leopard skin faux fur), it was ghastly, and he was biting my shoulder right at the moment when he came and bumped into me pretty bad, took a chunk right out of me, he did. And I bled all over the couch, it's pretty funny still actually and I have the scar to prove it. We got it cleaned though, before they came home ;)

It was all comfortable, very safe. But it didn't matter. Three weeks after his dad came home, he implied to Daddy that he had a small thing going on with me, and Daddy in no certain terms said to end it, or else. He gave me the cockamamie bullshit about race and religion, and I threw an orange at him from the Complimentary Fruit Basket we had in one of the hotels we were having sex at during the time. And it ended. I saw him around at clubs, always a wink and wave! And I'd wink and wave back. I felt the loss, I suppose. I can't deny that. I don't know if he felt it, he was always surrounded by people. But most of all, I felt a little betrayed. But what do you do when money is more important? And I never found him worth fighting for.

I guess the feeling was mutual.

2004-05-25T01:14:00.000-07:00

The Devastating Effects of an Ex's Revisitation (Part One)

Okay, I admit I'm not devastated. But a girl's got to be a little dramatic when talking about the ex, else there would be no fun would there?

I was sitting in the stairwell taking a break from the drudgery of work, legs splayed against the wall and fantasising about the next trip I will be able to take as soon as I settle my Citibank card. Eugh. MYR 400 going there every month. Sigh. I was sitting there wondering if I could possibly stomach another fag when I heard footsteps. No one really uses this stairwell unless it's for the floors below and no one I know climbs all the way up to the 8th floor anyway. Well, someone was. Someone who smelt very nice too. I sat up and straightened my skirt, and strained to hear anything. Nothing. He was coming up my way! The last drag choked in my mouth when I saw who it was climbing upstairs. Christ. Why do these things happen to me?

It was Zane. Not his real name, naturally.

"What're you doing here?"
"Jez?"
"Mmmh."
"I'm here to see Mat"

Mat's my Boss. Drat. You see I am an unfortunate PR consultant that deals with stuffed suits everyday. But I never expected to see a suit I once used to fuck here. Great. Now, I have to kiss ass and make friends.

"Oh! How nice."
"It's been awhile, still stalking the stairwells, huh?"

And he had this stupid grin when he said it. He used to hate me smoking, among other things, when we were dating back in the day.

"Yeah, so how're you?"
"Late. I was supposed to Mat 15 minutes ago. The lift broke down. Some sort of recovery thing. Know anything about it?"
"Erm, no? Well, I won't hold you.... go ahead. What's this about anyway?"
"Nah, he's doing some consulting for Daddy."

I hate it when grown men refer to their fathers and mothers and Mummy and Daddy. There's something so perverse about it, don't you think?

"Well, I won't keep you then. Talk to you soon."
"Eh, what time's your lunch break? Wanna go down? Grab a bite? Haven't seen you in awhile. You've dissapeared."

For good reason you idiot.

"Er, I have a thing I have to do."
"Okay, some other time. Keep in touch okay? Same number?"
"Yeah."

It's been the same for the past 4 years you idiot. Never kept in touch then eh? Stop smirking Jez!

"Do you have a card or something?"
"Yeah, here..."

And everything comes tumbling out of my purse. Fuck, lipstick fell to the floor below, he went and got it. Let it be known even now, he's still a gentleman, rightly so of course. He dumped me. We said our goodbyes and he left. SHIT! I'll have to go pester Mat for it now. Maybe I shouldn't. Then he'll know, and Mat can be awful about these things. He's a total chauvinist pig. Good worker, good boss though, I must admit. Fuck. Why now?

I spent the rest of the two hours before lunch avoiding the Conference Room. Dealing with my accounts with a fervour I never had in the past 8 months. Good, someone should market this zeal. One bottlecap full for immediate fervour and zest for the task at hand. Sideffects? Wondering why your Ex is here and whether he knew you worked here or if it was just chance. Shit. Shit. Shit.

More later.....

2004-05-24T05:36:00.000-07:00

Small Wonders

I had a nice lie in this evening. It was very good really for various reasons, and I'm not so much even a lie in sort of person, especially in the daytime. I figure since I took off work in the first place to spend some Jez time, might as well go through the whole shin-dig.

Lit candles all over the bathroom sink, it is now encrusted with dried up wax, but I'll worry about that later. Played some music (Smashing Pumpkins, if you will), soothing, meaningful and nice to sing along to. I had dragged myself out of bed before that, albeit in tracks and a tank top with flip flops, bought a nice pre-packed Salad and cheap wine so it'll go straight to my head and I'll be able to sleep. Red and Australian, in case you were curious.

Ran the bath while pushing and pulling the wires to the miniscule CD player I have and then hooking it up to the computer speakers (I'm so brilliant!). Took a shower while waiting, shaved everything even though it's been awhile since there's been any reason for me to actually take a razor to my skin. Ha ha.

Sat in the bath. Bliss, I tell you. I almost wished I could be bouyant and just float around. Sank in and drank, read the latest Cosmo for fucks, sometimes those 25 Ways to Make Him Scream are useful as I've learned before, wink. I got out of the tub and towelled off and I love that feeling you get. The cold floor, the breeze from the open door leading into the bedroom, cold air brushing wet skin. Needless to say I got pretty turned on. I took my time towelling off, I hate rushing things, and I love the tease.

I climbed into bed and lay down. I sucked on my fingers and brought them to my nipples, twisting and pulling them gently and slowly, then harder than before. My hands slowly moved lower and lower and I could feel myself immediately getting wet. I guided my index finger and middle finger to the little kernel of flesh that was already somewhat engorged and rubbed it lightly with the cum that was already slowly dripping out of me. Clockwise, anti-clockwise and closed my eyes and moved my pelvis with the direction of my fingers.

I always have to visualise something or else it is never good enough, so I rake in on memories of past sexual activity. One of my favorites was the one with U, about three years ago. Both of us were attending a friend's wedding and we took his cousin's car, snuck off and ended up giving each other head in the car, parked near the beach somewhere in the miles of beach in PD.

He was a six footer, long and lean and I was me. Hair in a bun from trying to look a little more elegant than I usually did. I had just met him the night before at the hen night M had organised, he dropped us all off at a club reserved for the event and picked us all up after. I wasn't into getting that drunk then, back then I had no alcohol tolerance so I stayed sober. I sat in front with him and we talked, dropped everyone off at the hotel they were staying at and ended up walking the beach and talking under the moonlight.

I look back and think how ideal that whole night seemed, the moonlight, how he understood what I was saying albeit very badly, about my dreams of becoming a fiction writer someday and my dreams of living in some exotic land and having a gorgeous, rich sugar daddy to support my shopping habits. It was all very chaste though, just conversation and he told me a lot about his parents wish to see him study abroad in the UK for his Masters since they were never too well off before this and landed on some money at the time to fund his education.

Anyway, I'll always remember the night that we did everything unchaste. My head was lolling out the door so far out I kept hitting my head on the door frame, but I kept cumming so hard and he just kept going, feather light touches to hard hard licks, and alternating the number of fingers he kept sliding in me, and kissing my cunt with full on lips, like it was a mouth. No man has ever done that to me. Ha ha, it was beautiful in my silly head at the time.

I came and opened my eyes, I could smell the faintest hint of sea salt from the Body Scrub I used, and it just brought back the memories I suppose.

I never saw U again though, he's in the UK now. Settled down with a girl from Birmingham and according to his father works for a top-notch accounting firm. It's strange how people come in and out of your life isn't it? I wonder if he ever visualises that us by the beach and comes thinking of me and the sea?

2004-05-23T23:08:00.000-07:00

Unfortunaties.

The weekend was an absolute disaster, save for the fact that I'm not at work today. I've drawn the blinds and am sitting here unwashed and dirty, blogging. I feel very Matrix-esque, except I'm no hacker. I'm just a silly little woman who forgotten her hygiene responsibilites for the day.

Sally's party was awful. I mumbled my excuses about the so-called boyfriend being away on bussiness in Hong Kong, of all places, and I took the Brother there instead. Ended up getting totally shitfaced, he had to drive home. I suppose if one good thing came out of that, he has a date with Sally's teenage niece who was there. And the Brother had the audacity to tell me to stop simpering when I got drunk! Bloody kids these days and their sarcasm.

And I've gotten my monthlies and the bloody air-conditioning is not working, I've run out of ciggarettes and iced tea. Is there no justice in the world?

I'm going to have a little lie down and pick at the little scab I got when I fell over drunk in Brother's car while contemplating whether I can go out to the shops in my PJ's. I hope someone's weekend was better than mine.

2004-05-20T17:54:00.000-07:00

The Cheating Married Man

Your cheating will make you weep
You'll cry and cry and try to sleep
But sleep won't come the whole night through
Your cheating heart will tell on you

When tears come down like falling rain
You'll toss around and call my name
You'll walk the floor the way I do
Your cheating heart will tell on you

Your Cheating Heart
Joni James

I was sitting in Ampang last night having a few drinks with some friends after work when I started to eavesdrop on the conversation two tables away. I'd like to think I have superpowered hearing but I would in fact be thinking wrong. I only payed attention because the couple looked so out of place there. Well dressed, well to do, plenty of cash. Her Tiffany tennis bracelet was glinting under the soft lights and her Gucci chain link was resting on the table. She was ignoring the middle-aged man pleading next to her and playing with her phone instead. Something he said made me want to go up to the woman and bring her home with me and whip her into shape.

"I'm telling her soon. We'll get a divorce and she'll get custody, I promise."

At this point all of us were quietly listening to the conversation above the sounds of some weird trumpet music that was playing at the time. Collectively, men and women alike we sighed. J, a good guy friend turned to look at me with an eyebrow raised and a look of disapproval clearly fixed on his face. Why?

I've gone out with a married man twice. Once unknowingly, because you see they tend to hide that fact most of the time, the slimeballs! And once because I really loved him.

Now, the typical Married Man who goes in search of earthly delights is usually either:

a. A total asshole, has been and always will be OR
b. Not happy with whatever is going on at home.

I managed to get both types on both instances.

The Cheating Married Man (CMM) is a catch. The relationship always starts of as non-commital and most of the time they are quite well to do. It's what attracts the Sweet Young Things in the first place. But be warned, the very fact that they are CMM's will always work against you.

If you think they will leave their wife and children, think again. However, that trend is changing slowly, now face and reputation don't matter so much, unless of course you end up shagging the maid and running off with her, then you will have everyone on your back. But, ladies hear me now, a CMM is not an option.

CMM's are not a rare breed. We hear about only a few instances when they do actually go out and cheat, but it's always happening. Right under yours and my nose. All the time. And by cheating I don't just mean sex. The looks, flirtations with co-workers, the immense amount of women your husband surrounds himself, a few I know are serial online pervs. And I use the word pervs appropriately here, I am no prude.

I don't know how married women deal with it. It's always wondering whether they're really at a meeting. Really down in Sabah to check the oil rig, was that call really about bussiness? Is she really just an old friend? How can you tell? Your sex life changes, albeit not drastically, these are some of the thoughts that run through your head over and over again.

Some women friends I have always tell me they never knew. That, as we all know is bullshit. There are always signs. And I cannot say this enough. There are ALWAYS signs. Sometimes because of the guilty conscience CMM's have they tend to be a lot nicer. Suddenly weekends he looks like he's Father of the Year, kind, loving, doting. You wonder how you could have ever thought he was cheating?

I can't give you exact moments where you know. But I've had 3 of my friends marriages break up because of CMM's. Which is why when I was dating R and loved him, I knew I couldn't live with it and I broke it off. We never had sex, in case you wanted to know. But the fact remains I am still not proud of it. As much as we'd like to say Malaysia or KL for that matter is progressive and it's not a boys club so much anymore, it still is.

The idea of hurting another woman who took the said CMM till death do you part, who beared children with him so that they could be happy is not something I want to be burdened with guilt for. After all if women fuck other women over, what else is there really?

As for the Tiffani girl, I hope she wakes up and smells the roses, she deserves much more. And for the woman who has to deal with all this, I hope she finds solace in knowing there is still one woman right here who won't fuck her over. You can't always speak for the rest of the population can you?

2004-05-20T00:13:00.000-07:00

Slap Me and Call Me Sally!

The chipper thing has worn off. It's a bit early in the day to be bitchy innit? But I can't help it. I have put myself in a compromising situation. I went to lunch with an old friend from high school. Ok, here's where I groan and bang my head repeatedly into a wall for saying yes to the bloody lunch date. Why do I always insist on doing these silly, masochistic things to myself?

The friend, let's call her Sally is a typical Smug Married. You cannot find anyone smugger than her. She is a total soccer mom, two children, both snivelling little brats if you ask me. I've seen them in action, and they are the kind of offspring you never want to have. And S and beloved husband give in to their every whim and fancy. In fact, they didn't even bat an eyelid when one of the demonic Satan spawn kicked me in plain view of everyone in the restaurant.

I wanted to give it a good spanking. After all, spare the rod and spoil the child you know.

But I digress, let me tell you how a charity lunch with S- I thought I was freeing her from her wifely/motherly duties and wanted to indulge in some afternoon cocktails- has landed me in a truly awful place.

1. She brought the brats and husband, so lunch was peppered with screaming, dropping of cutlery, physical abuse TOWARD ME! flustered waitress when the said offspring tried to throw the rolls at the next table, and constant chattering on S' part about the sweet 'ickle Satan spawn, and her stupid husbands pompous comments about how I'm running into my expiry date while looking at me in a more than friendly fashion no doubt imagining us cavorting in bed somewhere (I have history with S' lesser half, but that's another story)

2. I know now everything about baby basics and how to get your kids into Elite Playschool. God, there is such a thing? And something called KUMON, which to me just reminds me of Bacteria. And I can see why, the boy spawn had cream sauce all over his dungarees.

Did you know Darren can say his ABC?
Spell your name Darren!
Good boy!
No, no, no! Don't throw the bread!
Give me your fork, give me your fork, give me your fork.
No, honey.... Auntie Jez doesn't want to kill you! She's just joking silly!

(Have deduced that part of the reason people have children is to undoubtedly parade these midgets to the rest of us and take credit for whatever they may later go on to do.)

3. I cracked. I tried really hard, but I cracked. On the third time the question, "Are you seeing someone?" cropped up, I choked on my penne and blurted rather softly, "Yes."
So now, I have to bring someone to some party she's hosting this weekend! Why? Why do I always get myself into these messes.

I could have invited Ong, but I think if I even ask Karen might mutilate me. I thought of calling the Ex, but I know if I do I will quite possibly regret it. I am so fucked. Everytime I think about showing up with no one, I get all sweaty. I need to find someone before Saturday evening at the latest!

I've spent all this time denying vehemently that being single doesn't bother me, and it's true, it doesn't. Except on occasions such as this. Why do people, Smug Married and Smug Shagging Couples always forget how uncomfortable it is to be in a situation where people are always prodding you about your love life? Do your white knuckles gripped dramatically on your chair, repeated nostril flaring not hint to them some semblance of where the conversation should go instead?

Ah, the folly of Marriage and Commitment, where people so often forget Singledom and Singletons.

And if one more person gives me that "Poor you" look with that usual "Ah, don't worry! You've still got a few more years to trap a man!" Insert hearty sufffocating laugh and pat pat pat on the back,

I'll send their kids to public school!

Hah! And we'll see who's the Poor You then! Ha ha ha!

2004-05-19T18:31:00.000-07:00

I'm quite chipper this morning aren't you? Work has lulled down to a very slooooow, snails pace and I'm bored so you can expect more updates. As with new bloggers I presume I keep thinking of what to write. What with all the linking and plugging thats going on, even that nice man TV Smith said something about the blog ;)

I was wondering if anyone of you happened to catch that episode of CSI last night? Now, that, ladies and gentlemen is the perfect execution of what is called, "Cock Teasing." The producers are really keeping us Turned ON. And that is exactly how you get members of the opposite sex grovelling at least till everything has hit a fever pitch and then explodes. None of this quickie in the shower/car/garden shed nonsense okay? Long, luxurious, more than ample units of time used to just tease. And you don't even have to be naked! It's all about the seduction. Although, quickies are fun AFTER the seduction bit.

So I'm sitting in front of the TV now just raring to go, and Catherine Willow's almost kiss with Chris Benzich was a killer don't you think? I was just jonesing for a cigarette after that one.

I wonder sometimes, why some women think the all out backless, strapless, braless thing works? It works honey, but it leaves so little to the imagination. Don't be dull. I know a high powered bitch in charge who wears lace corsets to work under her power suit,few buttons open, that is power definitely. It adds a stroke of flirtatiousness into the whole picture and she's got half the floor drooling, men and women alike. Nothing more attractive than a bitch with a soft side.

In my humble opinion, I think the whole point of teasing is making the after effects last longer and to make it more explosive. I liken it to tantric sex and regulating your breathing during sex. Keep holding it in everytime you're near the edge, rinse, lather and repeat and even men have said to experience multiple orgasms.

Teasing is about giving them a preview.

However, I do have the utmost amounts of scorn for women and men who tease with no hope of a full blown mini-series. If you're doing it just for kicks, then you should tone it down to just simple flirting (which is a mixture of compliments and very little sexuality) and not seduction. Teasing in the traditional sense doesn't bode well for the teaser if you're not willing and ready to take it to the next level. In fact, you'll subject yourself to immense amounts of ridicule and gossip if you choose to tease and not please!

Some skin, just a little skin.

Practice makes perfect boys!

2004-05-19T08:13:00.000-07:00

Writhing Mass

How do beautiful days peppered with too much sun turn into crap?

a. An ex calls and decides to be his usual obnoxious self, ridiculing everything you have to say in a totally insidious Darth Maul fashion. And putting up barriers through the whole conversation for you so it essentially turns into a very intelligent battle of thoughts, that sounds very good as you read this, but in true fact, it's positively wearing on the soul.

b. A friend decides to be a total bitch from hell when his demands aren't met.

c. You sitting there, wondering where the hell you went wrong.

In the past 9 months, the struggle has not only been for an identity, but to stop yourself from just completely breaking down into a pulpy mass of emotion. The bad blind dates, where certain men think it fine to grope you until you quietly but surely dig your talons into their crotch to tell them you said, "NO and FUCK OFF."

The bad relationships, where the three ex's still seem to possess a part of your soul you wish you could reclaim instantly without having to grovel and groan for it. Call it weakness, but call it what it really is, the insufferable genius of people who have the upper hand in knowing that you love them too much to ask them to leave forever, because we all know there is no such thing as a positively, absolute platonic EX-ly relationship that is amicable.

On that note, I think every should get cherry lube, fruits in cans and settle down for some orgy love. After all, make love, not war, yes?

I'm here to tell you baby, I know how to rock your world.

2004-05-18T20:47:00.000-07:00

The New Look

I have a new look! Thanks to the caring loving folks over at Google. It's pink and doesn't it remind you distinctly of sex and candy? Dirty sex and candy. The PVC leather, whips and chains, pink stealth-ribbed strawberry-flavored dildo kind? Imagine the ruckus at candy shops if they sold something like that.

As you may have guessed by now, Karen and Ong and are joyfully together and shagging madly every chance they get. They turning into insufferable prats. I find it getting exceedingly hard getting a word in edgewise when they are together, it's always Baby this, Baby that. And if there is a pet name I have the most contempt for in the entire sparkling, colossal Universe, it's Baby. Aklh.

Yes, those are grunts of disgust.

While those two are shagging like rabbits, I'm alone again. I've sort of ended it with the man. The sexual lust kept it alive for far longer than it should have, I knew I should have given him the boot when I kept being shoved down to his crotch during play time.

Let me tell you something, and this is for both you women and men alike.

Any man who during play time/foreplay pushs your head down to his crotch without you willing to go down there yourself will, with no doubt, end up being an asshole. Trust me on this one, the signs will start showing it. Most of us bear with it, but it's just plan rude to do that.

I don't push your head down South! And no, it's not a "little bit of encouragement." Watch out or the family jewels ain't going to be there for very long. And to be perfectly honest with you, yes, all 3 of you, I like doing the naughty bits most people don't attempt, but to be arrogant and demanding enough of another person to PUSH them, you have got to be jacking me.

I don't bite. Honest, I don't.

2004-04-18T19:29:00.000-07:00

The Problem with Men

I'm rushing for a deadline so I'm trying to make this short and simple.

Yeah, the Man is still away and my hormones are still raging with undulating force. Christ, I feel almost preggers! I keep squinching in my chair. Boss is giving me weird looks. Must stop.

Yeah so this leaves me with more time to actually think. I was having my coffee and a shared stick of cancer with Karen by the stairwell, when we started talking about men.

Karen's totally attracted to Ong who's this tall, lanky looking design guy. And a few weeks ago he too professed his like for her. So everything should be fine and dandy and by now they should be mating like a bunch of bunnies on Energizer/Duracell/ batteries, no?

NOT THE CASE.

Why?

I'll tell you.

Karen and Ong have been dating for a few weeks and while both of them are absolutely randy. Karen cant bring herself to just plain fuck his brains out because they guy just doesn't care about many things important to her. Well, not entirely IMPORTANT lah, but of some weight.... I guess.

He literally puts no effort into making their meetings special while she goes to these great lengths of looking great and being totally prepared to shag everytime they meet. She goes all out she tells me,

Perfume, make-up, lacy underwear, condoms, lube, whipped cream bikini ... ok no. but you get the picture?

He comes to her house in torn shorts and a ratty Visit Kota Kinabalu shirt. The mood is gone. And according to her, she could smell fried food on him. I don't even know how that happened, but you get the picture. He was no Daisy.

"It's not like I expect him to look like fucking GQ man of the month!!!! He's no leng chai, we all know. But just a little bit of fucking effort lah!

"Don't they know sex is a two way thing? By all means go down on me cos I taste and smell fucking great, but I am not going down South when you look questionable on the outside already okay!"

"How lah! How Jez? To go down on him? You know my face right, it'll just be a mile long and if he notices, gone lah!"

I sort of mumble in agreement. I know all too well how it feels when someone you're about to shag is not entirely, ahem, clean. I cannot begin to tell you how much of a turn off it is, when you are down on your knees geared up and ready. Popsicle fun! And BAM, you're like gagging.

Sensory overload in a bad way.... really. COs it's in your face, literally and GOD you're seeing, smelling, and OH FUCK, you're going to be smelling soon :( Puts you off the whole thing, and you can't offend someone at that point in time you know? I mean, there's always that question of blue balls they WILL bring up. And sitll you can't scream on top of your lungs,

"YOU SMELL YOU P.O.S!!"

So you end up doing it anyhow, and gagging all the way. And smile in a very painfully constipated kind of way when they ask you how it was for you. When all the while you want to scream and rip out your hair.

Ok, maybe not lah. But you get the picture.

Right after Karen stamps out the cigarette with those cute new trainers, (it's Casual Friday everyday where we are ;)) Ong walks by, says hi and Karen makes a face.... ahh lovebirds. I told her, take a shower with him.... try that out. Hell give him head in the shower. Karen is sort of forgiving..... it's been a long time for her too. But i hope she solves this, she's got a really short fuse these past few days, and I'm afraid she might actually beat the crap out of Ong soon, if she doesn't get some.

I have work now, and there's a story about Edward the IT guy, who I'm trying to make over. I haven't decided whether I myself want to shag him, but either way, some woman should benefit from his new makeover. Ok too del loo.

2004-04-18T05:33:00.000-07:00

I just said goodbye to the Man, he's travelling this week to do work stuff and I'll be alone.

I have to feed his stupid cat, Misty. She doesn't like me. I think she has pussy envy! Hahaha!

Yeah, I feel like crying but I won't. Because everything seems so fucked.

He's going off for a week!! That means no sex, no calls at work, no dirty SMSes. Sigh. It's so dangerous being this attached to someone. I never meant for it to getso far, but it has. V. risky. And I don't usually dabble in this sort of thing.

I'm comforted with the fact that I don't love him.

Yet. I don't even know how it feels in his head. He seems to like me you know? But I cant be sure. Men are funny little creatures. He did say he would miss me though (he better).

Anyhoo, the Ex called. Sigh. I don't know why he bothers. Why don't people understand that when you hurt someone, most of the time it's really hard to even listen to you, let alone have a conversation about whatever affects the world.

Yeah, the Ex has a way of calling and telling me everything in the papers, a trait which I used to love, because he knows I don't read the papers, but now I couldn't be arsed to listen to him. Why cant he get the hint!!

It's quite tiring being apathetic and bitchy damnit.

Off to shower then feed the stupid cat. I swear she's scowling at me as I type this. But that could also be because I just rummaged around the Man's lap top for tell-tale signs of anything ;) I'ma super sleuth I tell ya. Years of Nancy Drew has finally paid off.

2004-04-17T20:09:00.000-07:00

Eugh. The Man is still sleeping and won't wake up. I've tried prodding him once at 9.45, then at 10.28. Both instances of prodding were futile. I've failed miserably.

It's quite depressing that with all the womanly wiles I think I possess, I cannot get a grown man out of bed. So much for morning sex. Harrumph. I feel scorned. He's snoring now. Groooooan.

I will shoot him killer looks if he even remotely looks at me with the idea of breakfast in bed.

that aside, I can't help but feel Sarah Marbeck is a total silly, don't you? I mean, personally, I think she just looks silly. But then again, I'm jealous. David Beckham is quite delish, and here I am, with a Man who's still in bed and refuses to wake up.

Scratch that. I envy Sarah Marbeck.Her man is not snoring at noon leaving her to sit on his laptop typing silly blog posts while the starves both physically and sexually.

Ngah!

2004-04-17T19:31:00.000-07:00

Ah! I just love the smell of a new blog dont you?

I have a blog! I'm so excited. I've been meaning to say so many things my way this will be fun. So many things to confess. The blog is called the wanton diaries, not the wan tan diaries..... :P because I intend I be completely honest with myself here, totally uninhibited!

I'm also jumping on the bandwagon here telling you right now, this whole blog is an elusive work of fiction, with very many real bits thrown in to make it look Bloggywood REAL.