A Bree wannabe

Perhaps I might have scared some of you guys with my earlier post about my borderline psychotic completionist tendencies. It's true unfortunately... I need my books to match - and I need a complete set. I have two pillows for each design that matches. I have matching dinner sets - and always have this urge to toss the whole set out if I break a single plate. :)

Let me make a full confession since it's been a few months since I've done the whole good Catholic confessional thing. That's not my only weird, kooky trait. Right now, I have already started compiling my Christmas list and I've already bought half of the gifts. Is that terribly anal or what? Then I'll spend half a day looking for matching cards and wrapping paper - like what's Jungle Jack's favourite colour? Does Veggie Vanitha like recycled wrapping? Don't even get me started on the buttons and bows.

Weird but true. But for any future suitors out there... surely you can excuse these little idiosyncrasies :) I'm working on them, trying to break the habit. Really! I won't make straighten his collar or spit-shine his hair. Really.

Still, I have to say that men are surprisingly difficult to shop for. Not sure what to get the guy who has everything - my ISO - since what he wants, he'll already buy. Kinda like me actually so I'm pretty notorious in being difficult to shop for since I shop so much ( it's a disease! ). Already gotten some stuff for my brother and my sister-in-law. Some of my cousins. Even my movie posse...Shameless Shalom is getting a lovely image of the Madonna from Turkey. Handsome Hui gets a teeny tee - the better to show off his youthful bod. Not sure if I should get something for Big Bicep Barry.. what should I get? A barbell for him? A skimpy tanktop for him ( but probably inostensibly for me )?

...

Still, I managed to find the time to write something new for my Bedtime Stories site - still needs a lil tweaking but it's readable. Have a draft ready for the Marine story too but that will take a few more days.

Falling sky

After catching the hilarious movie ( that simply cannot be missed!! ), someone got me a cute lil Happy Meal Chicken Little toy without realizing my prevailing obsession ( and my fatal weakness, alas! ) - and now, I simply cannot rest until I have the whole collection! Can't help it. I'm a completist. Is there even such a word for a compulsion to finish a set for no particular reason?

Doubt poor Big Bicep Barry knew that he was feeding one of my crazy compulsions when he got me the chicken. He was actually a little perplexed on what I intended to do with the kid's toy since he's more of an adult than me - while I still have a whimsical kid in me. :) The man actually stared at the toy for a full five seconds as I raved maniacally over it.

Guess he's starting to be my enabler. Now I'll have to haunt McDonald's for the next little while - and damn, what would that do for my so-called diet?

To tempt a saint

If you recall a guy named Mormon Gordon, one of my old best friends... well he asked me out for dinner tonight since he's back for a short vacation to finalize the plans for his wedding at the end of the month. It has been a while since I've seen him though we've spoken on the phone a few times so it should be great finally meeting up for a drink. Of course judging by his previous encounter with alcohol - and the subsequent manhandling thereafter, I think I'm gonna restrict his drinking to simple non-alcoholic fizzy drinks. Certainly no need to tempt the saint.

Nudged Gordon's dinner to a late dinner/early supper though since I'm still meeting Big Bicep Barry for some makan before that. With his propensity for ordering minute portions worthy of scrawny, bulimic supermodels - and raising a terrifyingly blighting eyebrow when I take my usual cholesterol-high, heart-unfriendly meals, I figure I won't eat all that much anyway :) When it comes to food - and men actually, I'm afraid to say that I'm actually partial to large, sinful portions of beef that would have Barry fainting to the ground after calculating the astronomical calories.

The poor man. Don't know why but I have this horrible recurrent images of tieing the brawny guy up and force-feeding him large pieces of meat dripping with oil.

Yes. I am a bad gay man.

With four weddings in the next two months, it's really amazing the number of friends I have who are getting married - or for that matter the number I know who are already married! When I think of some of the wild, crazy antics that we've been up to ( only half instigated by me... I swear! ) I boggle at the idea of them settling down in relative sobriety. Hell, it's starting to make me desperate - and jealous as hell, I'd have to admit. Though surely not as desperate as my relatives who are all too willing to throw me at the nearest single, nubile Vietnamese boat refugee.

Hell, what do I tell them? Surely no one's as ready to transfer to the state of Matrimony but how to tell them that I'd much prefer a taller, darker, hairier groom? :) Finding the groom isn't as easy as I thought it'd be - and a far more arduous task than I'd imagined with the suitors few and far between. My list of requirements surely isn't that difficult to fill :) A healthy, intelligent male with all his teeth and hair - who loves me.

Taking a leap

Suicide is always a dirty word in the hospital.

Everyone expects healthcare workers to provide medical care, sympathy and TLC to patients who attempt suicide and we all try our best but unfortunately the regular doses are usually coloured with a teensy pinch of resentment. I might not like it in my nurses - and even myself occasionally - but that tiny pinch is always there. we are all human and we all have flaws. The medical fraternity makes the occasional joke about life and death ( we need the dark humour to survive unfortunately ) - but deep inside, all of us carry an innate respect for life. Everyday we see patients, young and old, battling so very hard and desperately for their lives and the very idea that someone would just throw away this precious gift disgusts us.

There. I've said it. A bad person and certainly far from politically correct, I'm sure but I'm battling post-call fatigue so I hope to be forgiven :)

But it doesn't actually hit you till someone you know - or someone you know who knows someone else... takes a flying leap off the nearest building and forgets the bungee cord. Or takes a lethal injection of potassium chloride. Back in medical school, we have all heard the urban legend about the medical intern who took a torch to himself but it certainly isn't a laughing matter especially when doctors actually consitute a significant number in the figures. Yes, doctors do take their own lives and unsurprisingly anaesthetists and psychiatrists head the infamous list. A prevalent view is that both biologic and psychosocial factors play a role - and interact - in the decision to commit suicide. Since theoretically suicides amongst physicians would lead to almost certain death, I doubt we'll ever find the reasons why - short of a successful seance.

Makes you stop and think. What actually drives someone to give up on life?

Fetish for the psychotics

You guys all know my recent obsession with Desperate Housewives... which has actually aired its second season in the US recently. Guys over here in Malaysia are doomed to wait another year before it finally hits our shores.

Luckily nowadays we have the internet. Though I'm still not as proficient at downloading stuff as Wingman Will, I have my moments - and a helpful ex who helps me do so. Been watching a handful of the new episodes on his laptop - currently so engrossed you wouldn't believe - and I'm seriously liking the crazy boy who made history when he cried homo after being confronted by his anal-retentive mom, the supreme housewife Bree van Der Kamp. And by that, I mean Andrew van Der Kamp played by the sweet all-American Shawn Pyfrom.

I mean, he is so quietly devious... so chillingly evil... so creepily insane...

I just have to like him. What does that say about me? :)