Some topics have been taboo on this blog because the State is perpetually a state of denial. And we’d like to keep it that way. But it seems the longer I live, the more I’m pulled out of my alternate universe.
On the way back, the Pakistan cricket team was in the lounge. All of my heroes were sitting like, six feet away from me. And while I wanted to jump and hug and kiss every one of them, I sat frozen on my backside pretending to not stare at them, their wives and their children.
Artemis and my brother gave me hell on the phone. “GO TALK TO THEM?!?!?!?!”
I couldn’t.
For a number of reasons.
a) Firstly, the only ones I could tell were Muhammad Yunus and Abdul Razzaq. I had no idea who the rest of the 20 men in uniform were. I haven’t watched cricket since we lost the world cup in the ‘99 finals to Australia
b) Four of them had wives. I didn’t know which four. And I didn’t know how the wives would react and if I went up and congratulated the boys on winning the world cup. If a hot chick walks up to your husband and has the most flirtatious smile on the planet – whaddya do? Whaddya do?! I’m quite fond of my nose and didn’t want it broken
c) Most importantly, it wasn’t the team I was seeing. I was seeing boys. Who have cooties. And genital warts. I assure you, this is the FIRST and the LAST time the expression is being used on the blog, and that too only because it’s true. Well, one did, and he is OFF the team, but it was like… dude! These are guys, and umm… stranger guys. Do I want to pick a conversation with anyone of them? And the ‘correct’ answer is ‘no’. I NEVER speak to stranger unless there is no other option – like at the airports – where I’m told my going rate is AED 200,000/-.
And then I end up with hamsters.
I found another hamster today. This one is Palestinian. Very cute, but a hamster nonetheless. Very cute, very charming, very simple and very umm… besotted.
But a hamster.
Now. We know from last month, that hamsters have their entertainment value. But at the end of the day, they remain hamsters, and that’s that, isn’t it?
I’ve never really had a hamster, ever, but I’ve seen them on tv run around in those round things inside cages. And you feed them and you water them and you live your life and they live theirs and it would all be very simple if I could only write out my damned thoughts in this stupid post.
[eds’ note: Ok! hem, breathe.]
The point is. WTF am I supposed to DO with a hamster?
You know how good I’ve been with pets. I either killed them, or gave them away. And my history with people isn’t that great either.
Relationships, like the art of cooking, tend to be complicated. Especially those involving people. And like, living organism things.
They (relationships) aren’t like a pair of jeans. Well. My love affair with my jeans was exceptionally complicated but I’m basically trying to compare selecting a guy to a retail purchase.
Which it isn’t.
And that’s what I’m saying. Choosing a guy isn’t like trying out different pairs of shoes, seeing which one fits best and taking them home after paying with your credit card.
That transaction is simple.
Nor is selecting a guy like buying a car. Test driving a few vehicles, putting down zero% down-payment, getting a loan approved from the bank offering the lowest interest rates, getting insurance, registration and viola! – You’re good to go. Terms on all of the said contracts are clear and binding. Relationships – not so much.
What im trying to say is, I would probably BE in a relationship, if I knew what I wanted from one.
Like D very sagely said some time back ‘you will be married the day you decide to get married.’ When I told him that made no sense, he goes ‘it will make sense the day you want it to make sense.’ That’s when I strangled him and dumped his remains in the boot of my car. Now you know what the weird smell is.
So yes, following the same logic, I would be in a relationship, if I wanted to be in one. But I won’t be in one, or I wouldn’t want to be in one, unless I knew what I wanted from one, which is something I don’t know and can’t seem to figure out. What I HAVE figured out, is that I don’t want a hamster!
When I made this category, I thought over a period of time, I’d put down qualities and attributes that I would ideally like to see in my guy – the guy I’d eventually like to end up with – but that attempt turned out be… two posts in two years. we’ve also learnt i have a phobia of times new roman.
Again, my bad, because I don’t dream, and don’t except, and don’t build myself up for a fall.
But over the time, and from experience, I’ve come to a few conclusions.
So if and when I pray at all, I pray that the guy I eventually end up with doesn’t drink or smoke.
I really really really pray that the guy I end up with has more respect for his life and his lungs than that. And I’d like him to appreciate that his children will probably want him alive and around them when they are like, 7 years old. Unless of course he’s run over by a truck; in which case the tobacco companies can sue me for lost revenues and the ultimate impact on shareholder wealth. Fate cannot be controlled, but common sense shouldn’t be completely discounted either.
I’d like to see compassion, humility and forgiveness as attributes. One of my former bosses, a sweetheart, once out of the blue told me I should look for forgiveness in the guy I marry. A guy who has the ability to let go and forget and move on; because my ability to screw up – and screw up big – is unbelievable (this part my boss didn’t say, but I’m sure that’s what he was hinting at). So I’d like someone with the patience of a saint. Humility and Compassion because they help us accept we, like everyone else around us, are not perfect – and that makes it easier to accept others with their flaws and shortcomings. You can be brilliant at what you do – you don’t have to be an asshole about it.
Perhaps lastly, I’d like him to have as sense of humour and the ability to laugh at himself. Shit will happen. How you deal with it is what’s important to me.
Now. It would help tremendously, if the said gentleman also came with a Lamborghini, a Ferrari F430 and an R8, but I wouldn’t hold it against him if he didn’t. You win some, you lose some.
So now. Armed with this information, I can go ahead and try and figure out what to do about the hamsters.
a) I don’t want one. Or two
b) The only reason I went along with the first one was because I was curious, and i wanted to see if I was capable of emotion. Other than curiosity. Which isn’t an emotion, it’s an attribute. Turns out I CAN have phone conversations longer than two minutes-thirty five seconds. With someone other than my mom
In that the social experiment is not an utter failure. Now we just have to see if it works with non hamster-like real people. But which witch is the question.
The only person who was close to being non-hamster like and reasonable thought i was married and sent my boss an email telling him it was a pleasure to meet him and “Mrs Hemlock”. What sort of an effin’ idiot does that ANYWAYS?! AND he’d cc’ed me copying down the WRONG email address. Is it too hard to read?
That message my boss forwarded me saying:
“oh dear, what a Miss-Understanding”
My defence for the guy was, boss, he’s definitely interested and he’s fishing… this is where you are morally, ethically and socially bound to correct him and confirm miss hemlock was equally pleased at having made your acquaintance…
My boss ripped up his visiting card and banned me from ever visitin Bahrain.
Then that trainer dude I met in Lahore last week? the 60 yr old gora geaser goes to me:
“but yes, imagine you could have had a great love affair with a british officer…!”
I was like, “wait, why cant i have one now? ”
he goes: “aren’t you married?”
“Err, no?!”
“i can.not believe it!”
I kid you not. He said “i cannot believe it!”
FTW?!
Also, i don’t WANT an affair (OR ANYTHING) with an Englishman! If it WAS a nationality i was after, it would be
a) South African (they have GREAT outdoor / tourist activities in the country)
b) Portuguese - *shrugs* because! (it’s just cool and they have like, the coolest history ever)
c) Somalian - PIRATES! YAARRRRR!
But PRINCE WILLIAM?!
Not so much. He hasn’t aged well at all.
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