S2E1 - What Are The Break-Up Rules?

Have any of you heard Adele's new album? Is it not the most amazing music ever made? If you don't like it, then chances are you absolutely loathe and can't relate to anything we write here. If that's the case, buzz off, because clearly this episode is for anyone who has a or has broken someone's heart.

In my relationships (yes, I can speak in plural now) I've never been the dumper. Seeing as how my delightful colleague has so hilariously and insightfully covered the territory the two of us are oh-so-familiar with, let's see if I can figure how things work (or should work, rather) from the other side of the fence. The piercing, painful fence.

So what do you do after you've initiated a break-up? More importantly, what do you NOT do? The following is based on break-up rule #1 in the book of Charlotte York - you're given half the duration of your relationship to get over it. So...

Don't visit spots you know your ex frequents. If you enjoy the chai they serve at the cafe near your ex's house, find a new spot. It's close to where they live or work, and chances are they introduced you to the place. Common sense should tell you that it's in their territory, ergo they own it. Same goes with the sports bar near where you work/live - you could just pee all over it because it's a generally accepted break-up rule - it's yours.

Next up, Facebook and Twitter. As you can see in the post below, your ex is going to go on a stalking rampage. He/she will deny it. They'll say it "appeared" on their feed, or that they just "clicked it out of habit." Bullshit. They'll put on those sunnies and pretend they're Horatio from CSI, so be courteous. If you're seeing someone new, don't publish it. That's doing a favour not only for your ex, but in general. Do you really think people give a rat's ass about where you took him/her for dinner the night before and how much he/she "loves her little cuddwee bwear?" Limit your activities online and if you're an addict, practice abstinence or just post things in the most general manner. Adios verbose.

If you've been through a relationship with even a minimal amount of girth, you've probably made a mutual circle of friends. That's when you become the bigger person, if only for the reason you can boast about you taking the high road. That's always nice, isn't it? Don't put your friends on the spot by asking them to be equivocal. Make the move and spend time with those that were originally your friend. If you met them through your ex, don't call them! Who cares if you guys became fast friends who met for tacos every Friday to exchange your week's story? It goes back to territory - only talk to those you've pee'd on. That would work for you as much as it would work for your ex - you wouldn't have to worry about them being tell-tales, and your ex wouldn't be able to dig out stories about who's the latest customer at your hot beef injection clinic.

Finally, when you bump into each other ('when' because we both know it's inevitable) don't be a total douchebag. Walk on egg shells. Don't think about who was right or wrong. At the end of the day, you're the dumper aka the asshole. As psycho as your ex might be, people will most likely give you the stink eye if they had to choose. Ride your ex's wave. Go with their rhythm. Chances are, they'll read into it more than you. Tip-toe around because you know they'll somehow misread it and think that you either want them back, or that you never loved them in the first place. So make a plan. It's always good. Batman always makes plans. See how his life turned out. Minus the dead parents.

This will work. Because if you broke-up with someone, I'm assuming you had good reasons. Concrete reasons. If you didn't, just smack yourself. Maybe put on some Adele and get yourself a martini. And get me one. It ain't easy dishing out like this.

S2E1 - What Are The Break-Up Rules?

Break-up. They couldn’t even find ONE word to describe it that two separate words were needed to describe this ugly thing. To add salt to the wound, there's a dash in between said two words. As if saying, "Hey, this is where we draw the line, aight?"

Speaking of drawing the line, so what happens when you have to purge yourself from someone you’ve dedicated your time and life with for the past (insert period)? It’s never easy because you’re so accustomed to having that person around. You become attached, and having to detach is a wreck. Ever tried peeling a price tag off the back of your new book? Even the aftermath is one big mess, with all that remaining glue, you’ll need more than peeling to get rid of it. Sometimes, it even leaves a stain. Yes, I’m still being figurative.

That’s when we all develop a set of unspoken rules.

Ed’s note: I’ll be covering the rules of a dumpee, seeing that I seem to have a disgusting affinity towards assholes.

Rule #1

Sever all communications. I believe the easiest way to get over someone is to cut all ties. It’s like alcoholism. You say you want to quit but you keep Uncle Jack around the house. Every time you see him, waving and twirling his liquids at you, you’re tempted to lick and swallow that son of a bitch. And one day, you’ll eventually give in to his wet and dark seductive ways.

Communicating with an ex will only reignite old feelings. You end up remembering how good you guys used to be, and forgetting why it never worked out in the first place. You will want to get back together and if you do, congratulations if it works out. But sometimes those issues creep back in and you end up where you started; Rule #1.

Rule #2

Remove him/her from all social networks. Cyberstalking may not officially be a crime… yet. But it is definitely detrimental to your mental health. Physical too, if you start to get too annoying. You will go insane wondering who’s this new bitch/prick your ex added. And that thought will escalate to questions like “How did they meet?” “Are they hooking up?” “Shit, is she/he better looking than me?” And then it proceeds to you saving the link of his/her picture and spamming it to your friends with subject that says something along the lines of “Check out this 2 buck whore my cuntbag ex is boning”.

Rule #3

Dispose everything that reminds you of him or her. If the gifts were expensive, try www.ebay.com. This works both ways, really. Firstly, out of sight, out of mind. And secondly, when your new beau comes along, there’s no need to have that awkward moment when he/she first comes over and sees your past mementos sprawled all over your bedroom like a crime scene. If you’re a guy, it’ll save you jealous outrages and more ravages in bed.

Rule #4
Please, no re-fucking the ex. That's like going through your garbage and eating that cheese pizza from three nights ago. Not only is it unhealthy and disgusting beyond belief, it will definitely make you sick.

Rules may or may not help aid a broken heart. It all boils down to time, strong will, and patience. Cry your heart out, make voodoo dolls. It does get better eventually. Like they say, breaking up is hard to do. No shit, Neil Sedaka.

SEASON 1 END

S1E12 - Are Relationships the Religions of the 90s?

I have not seen Caitlin in years since A Levels. We decided that a catch up session was way overdue and made plans to meet last Friday. Even though Cait and I barely meet, and our conversations are rather sporadic, what's great about our friendship is that we can always pick up from where we left off.

Three hours into our catching up, I began to realize that we've spent 95% of those hours talking about men. Dated, dating, and want to date. We could've caught up about work, family, uni life but yet, the chosen topic was men. Back in Jersey, when I hung out with my girlfriends and met their friends, it all boils down to the same thing as well. They would ask questions like "So are you still seeing so and so" and it proceeds to "how's it going", "why didn't it work out", and "what a jerk off he is". I used to pride myself in being one of those girls who aren't boy crazy but this made me think, why are we so fixated on this subject?

I honestly believe the age factor plays a big part. The older you get, the higher the pressure. Everyone seems to be in a rush to find someone they can settle down with. It's a chase society secretly organized the moment you hit 25 and aren't even aware you're a part of.

You can tell how society places relationships on such a high pedestal these days with all the matchmaking services out there. You have a million online dating sites, classifieds to find your 'soul mate' in newspapers daily, match making companies, and last but not least, speed dating. Yes, we want to find someone so bad that we have compromised time. We've cheapened the whole value and sentiment of actually meeting someone and slowly getting to know that person.

As Caitlin puts it, at our age, all the good ones are taken. The ones left are usually damaged or there's probably something wrong with them. So, personally, I believe we're just worried there aren't any decent ones left and this results in us to subconsciously be on a perpetual quest to look for someone special until those vows are exchanged.

But here's my two cents, you don't rush an artist when he's painting his masterpiece, do you? So please people, calm the fuck down.

S1E12 Are Relationships the Religion of the 90s?

Seven years ago I met the man I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with. We met through a group of mutual friends, at a bar where we all got together for mid-week drinks. I’ve almost never hung around people my own age. These people were all fresh graduates, with new jobs and pay checks they thought they have to contribute to happy hour.

When we met I was instantly smitten. We had a seven-year age gap, which when you think about it is not too bad. I was seven years younger to a newly-minted professional. You do the math.

Four years we spent together - four amazing, wonderful, tumultuous and torturous years. It took me a year to get over him, and another year before I started talking to him again. In that time, I never had a (comparatively) significant relationship. At first it was because I didn’t want one – I had spent the better part of my prime as a gay man in a monogamous (well, given his history SOMEWHAT monogamous) relationship. I felt that it was time I spread my wings. And by wings I mean legs.

So I did. In between all of that I did have my fair share of ‘boyfriends.’ There were some guys that I met whom I felt I could not just be in a physical relationship with. Safe to say none of those worked out because two years and countless men (okay, maybe four) later, I’m back at square one. I don’t want a relationship.

I’ve been seeing this great guy for about six months now. We’re not in a relationship. We sleep together. He buys me soup when I’m sick. I pick him up when he’s stranded at the train station. I feel upset when he does not show up for my performances. He thinks I should make an effort to meet his friends. That’s what no strings attached is, right? Clearly I’m a pro.

I found out a few months ago that my ex-boyfriend (the first one) met the girl (yes, he’s one of those mythical ‘real’ bisexuals) of his dreams, and they’ve decided to get married.

Why would I want a relationship? The only man I ever saw myself with is getting married. I’m in a non-relationship relationship with a guy I had a no-strings agreement with. My life is in perfect order. Who needs a relationship? I don’t.

S1E12 How Often is Normal?

Sher and I were having our bi-monthly margarita-Tuesdays when our conversation somehow segued into sex. Conversation about sex, I mean. Sher and I were never incredibly close, but over the past few months we’ve grown fond of the other’s company, and quite enjoy our little sessions. It’s like going home for lunch, but having an afternoon delight instead. The only way I can express the pleasure I feel after.

We’re both in very different places in our lives. Sher has been with her boyfriend for almost three years, and they could not be more in love. He’s gone back to his home country to finish his medical residency, so they are trying the whole long-distance thing. I’ve never believed in those kinds of relationships but if anyone could make it work, it would be Sher. I, on the other hand, am single but not available.

I remember when I was in her position – a steady, solid, monogamous relationship. I also remember how despite how adventurous, willing, and driven my partner and I were, the fireworks in the bedroom got less bright and exciting as time went on. It’s not that we were not attracted to each other, because we were. But things just changed, and priorities and what we “get off on” shifted.

Clearly I was the only one at the table who experienced this.

“What does that even mean? How can it fizzle out?”

Silly, naive girl. Clearly her relationship was not as mature as mine. Eventually things change and the relationship grows.

“Don’t get me wrong, that’s great and all but how often did you guys do it?”

What a nosy parker. Was she fishing for tips because she knew what a great relationship I had? So I told her. When we first started going out we were at it like rabbits, and as time progressed we went into double-rabbit mode. But as time kept moving on, the rabbits were released and we were down to maybe twice a week.

“I’m a year short of your relationship, and we do it about eight times a week.”

Hahah. What a liar. I can see right through her.

“I’m not saying it proves anything, but I can’t imagine it any other way. We don’t HAVE to have sex all the time, but we just can’t help ourselves sometimes. I mean yes, sometimes we have to make sure we do but more often than not, it just happens and poof – eight times a week.”

Please. Eight times a week. Clearly her relationship is nowhere near the seriousness and commitment of where my relationship was. Eight times a week? That’s still the puppy love stage. Whatever, Sher.

“Do you think that not doing it as often was part of why you guys broke up?”

WHATEVER, SHER!

S1E11 - How Often Is Normal?

I've been told that the hairier the guy or the thicker his lips, the higher his sex drive. So it really depends what kinda guy you land. Hairy Harry over here might think the amount of meals he consumes in a day equates to the amount of times he consumes you, as normal. While Bald Billy here might think that sex should be like your period; it only cums once a month.

It really is hard to put a number to what is considered normal. I've known of cases where both, the guy and the girl, think that by bonking everyday proves their love for one another. They believe the display of affection and intimacy for one another will strengthen the relationship. It also gives them the comfort of knowing that they are still attracted to one another sexually. Or, if you're cynical, they might want to tire their partner out so he or she would be too worn out to screw around.

Next would probably be the social norm and accepted number by most people. That number would be 3-4 times a week. They believe in spreading their love (and legs) evenly throughout the week. The reason being, they are allowing room for the sexual tension to build up, causing the love making session much more pleasurable when experienced. Or, if you're cynical, they're just downright lying. They are nothing but pretentious pricks who want to appear normal in the eyes of society because secretly, they're too busy and they can only get it up once a week.

Then you have the barely any sex couples. These are the ones who only do it on special occasions. Mostly Valentines Day and birthdays. And if you're lucky, maybe Christmas. I do know of cases where the lesser the sex, the better the relationship. I believe at this point, sex has become secondary in the relationship. It's everything else in between that bonds them emotionally and keep them together. That, or if you're sardonic, they're fucking other people.

It is an unspoken rule that the number decreases as the time increases. Just like any new toy, its novelty wears thin after awhile.

I believe it is ludicrous to put a number just to validate your relationship with someone. If it happens, it happens. (Unless you're 16 and living with your parents and the only window of opportunity is after school and they are at work, but that is a different story all together). It should never be forced just to fill a quota.

S1E10 - As I watched Laney tear open a terry cloth baby bib with the same enthusiasm she once reserved for tearing off rock stars' pants, I couldn't help but wonder, was I next?

I love kids. I love kids so much that if you were to glance at my list of friends on Facebook, I could pass off as a pedophile.

Truth is, everyone I know is either on the path of marriage, engaged, marrying next weekend, married or having babies. It took me this long to write on this subject because I can't relate to having a baby. The closest I can say is having a dog.

And here is another piece of truth - not only is this subject foreign to me, I never could find the right words to describe how I feel about it. I could write an eight paragraph long article about my enthusiasm in having babies, or I could write another eight paragraphs about being a pseudo feminist career woman who doesn't want or need babies.

But, I believe that I'm already a great mother for not wanting to bring kids into this world with the wrong man.

S1E10 ...Was I Next?

I’ve never liked driving down to Johor. It’s a long, tiring, and mostly unrewarding journey.

But this time it was different.

We were visiting one of our best friends, Sasha. Over the past five years, the five of us have done some pretty crazy things together, Sasha, Momes, Geeps, Fran and myself. From drunken nights to baked afternoons, we’ve created some pretty awesome memories for ourselves.

Sasha always was the craziest one. The one who always got the party going; the one who was the first and last on the dance floor; the one who was on a two-year probation for being under the influence.

Yeah, Sasha was always the “fun” one in any group.

Driving to Johor with our hipster music and Nicole Richie sunnies, we couldn’t help but reminisce on the good times we shared with Sasha. Before heading down to Johor, we thought it’d be best if we got her something.

“Would weed be an appropriate gift?” Momes asked. As much as she would love it, it just wouldn’t be right. You see, Sasha just had a baby, and we had no idea how to react.

After years of battling with it on so many levels, I’ve come to terms with the idea that I’ll probably never have a family. But with all that’s been going on around me, I really can’t help but wonder – what would happen if I had a baby? Judging by the turn of events (I’ve spent a total of eight-hundred and twenty-five dollars on baby gifts) it seems like it’s only a matter of time before I pop one out myself.

Whenever any of my friends have babies, I always freak. As much as I’d hate to believe it, it’s true – people do change after they have babies. Sasha was nowhere near as crazy as she once was. Dummies replaced shot glasses and hidden compartments that once held spliffs now had emergency diaper-rash lotion.

I was a little disoriented when we were leaving Sasha’s to head back to our hotel. I looked around at my remaining three friends and arranged them according to who would have a baby first. Just as I was about to burst into tears realising that in three years I’d be ditched for diapers, Sasha pulled me in for a goodbye hug.

“Baby or no baby, I’m expecting rounds on you and J’s on the rest when I’m back home.”

S1E9 In a City of Great Expectations, Is It Time to Settle For What You Can Get?

I don’t know if it’s because I’m a gay man, or because I’m Indian…or because I’m both, that the word ‘settling’ has never had such a negative connotation to it.

While it’s social suicide to say that in the circles I move within, it really is something that I believe in. My surroundings as a child gave me the idea that settling is not so much giving up and cashing in the closest thing you have. It’s more of just taking whatever you have at the moment and making the most of it.

I say all these things but like most people, when push comes to shove I react completely differently.

Just a few months ago I met the man I thought was perfect for me. He had every box ticked. He was tall, dark, and handsome. He was smart, funny, and had good taste in music and literature. He carried himself very well; spoke more than two languages and best of all…a Ceylonese boy. Jackpot, yes?

No.

After the first two somewhat blissful months, the perfection started to melt off like pharmacy-brand make-up in Malaysian weather. This man whom I strived for years to meet ended up, like most men, a total douche bag. He was in a relationship with someone else – and had been in that relationship for three years.

Long story short that was the end of a tumultuous two months. What does this have to do with settling?

A few weeks ago I bumped into an old friend, BMan. We’ve been friends for a good four years, and BMan’s had a crush on me for three of the four.

I’m not condoning it, nor am I saying it’s the right thing to do. I’m not settling with BMan. I’m simply exploring options that I usually wouldn’t under any other circumstance.

Is that just a nicer way to articulate ‘settling?’ I don’t think so.