To Be Attached
Having a Significant Other changes things. Especially when you've enjoyed your freedom for long time. You have to learn to live, to function, with another person.
Like it or not, you have to get used to each others' qwerks and nuances.
For example, she leaves the toilet seat down. I don't dry my hands after washing. She leaves the toothpaste upcapped. I recycle my clothes/utensils. She showers in the mornings. I shower at night. I function with 5 hours of sleep. She doesn't. She loves her salad. I'm a carnivore. She talks in her sleep. I fart. She drives like a maniac. I fart. She bakes. I fart.
It's a wonder she puts up with me.
Then again, having a partner does have its benefits as well.
I have someone to remind me to zip up my fly after I go wee-wee. Or check my nose for boogers. Or to let me know my socks/shoes/corduroy pants/shirt are mismatched (I've been told by the many women in my life that I'm fashion-blind). When I'm ill, there's someone to care for me and to ignore my pathetic whining while telling me 'That's nice, dear.' and reading Cosmo.
And it's nice that someone thinks you're nice and lovable. A bonus that she likes to bake, and bakes well (though I've had to work out extra to burn off those calories).
We make trips to places I'd otherwise never visit. Go out for movies and dinners and not having people look at me like I'm gay because I'm watching a chickflick with my roomate (nothing against gays. Just that I'm not. Straight as an arrow).
On that note, strangely enough, while interviewing for a job years ago, some people did think I was gay. But you see, it's not politically correct to ask someone what his race, religion and sexual orientation is in the United States (unlike Malaysia, where you need to include your religion and race in your official documents AND examination papers), but I finally caught on when that program director in that Ohio hospital took the interview in a weird direction:
Like it or not, you have to get used to each others' qwerks and nuances.
For example, she leaves the toilet seat down. I don't dry my hands after washing. She leaves the toothpaste upcapped. I recycle my clothes/utensils. She showers in the mornings. I shower at night. I function with 5 hours of sleep. She doesn't. She loves her salad. I'm a carnivore. She talks in her sleep. I fart. She drives like a maniac. I fart. She bakes. I fart.
It's a wonder she puts up with me.
Then again, having a partner does have its benefits as well.
I have someone to remind me to zip up my fly after I go wee-wee. Or check my nose for boogers. Or to let me know my socks/shoes/corduroy pants/shirt are mismatched (I've been told by the many women in my life that I'm fashion-blind). When I'm ill, there's someone to care for me and to ignore my pathetic whining while telling me 'That's nice, dear.' and reading Cosmo.
And it's nice that someone thinks you're nice and lovable. A bonus that she likes to bake, and bakes well (though I've had to work out extra to burn off those calories).
We make trips to places I'd otherwise never visit. Go out for movies and dinners and not having people look at me like I'm gay because I'm watching a chickflick with my roomate (nothing against gays. Just that I'm not. Straight as an arrow).
On that note, strangely enough, while interviewing for a job years ago, some people did think I was gay. But you see, it's not politically correct to ask someone what his race, religion and sexual orientation is in the United States (unlike Malaysia, where you need to include your religion and race in your official documents AND examination papers), but I finally caught on when that program director in that Ohio hospital took the interview in a weird direction:
Interviewer: I see there is another Malaysian doctor interviewing today. Do you know him? (was on the interview trail with LP)
Me: Yes, he's a good friend of mine.
Interviewer: I see. Are you travelling together?
Me: Yes we are (to cut costs).
Interviewer: Ah, I see. *one eyebrow goes up* Will you be, ahem, doing a couples match?
Me: *Alarm bells go off* KNNCCB, I'm not gay lar you lanjiau! (okay, I didn't say that)
But I digress. Back to the girlfriend. Yes, it's great to have someone who brings so much joy to your meaningless life. Even if it means I need to eat my veggies, and can't fart/scratch body parts whenever I want. Can't have wild promiscuous sex with every other hot chick who's crazy about me (waited 30 years, none so far, but I know they're out there). But you know what? It's a small sacrifice and it's all worth it.Babe, this one's for you. Happy Thanksgiving. Come back here soon. And watch out for those speed traps!
posted by vagus at 4:57 PM
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