under the poinsetta

Overall, the weekend of Christmas parties wasn't a total failure, but just somewhat less than thrilling.
It's hard to explain what the issue is without being really "cutting" but...basically, the things that Filipinos go crazy for are, for me, irritating, boring, or both.

Party one: held at Ikabud at SM mall, there was a large spread of Filipino food, red ice tea, a videoke machine (sighhhh). All the girls wore white, the two guys wore red (and one confused lady wore red and white, hee hee). The food was vegetables cooked in peanut butter sauce, roast pork, fried chicken, stir fry veggies of some kind on angel hair pasta, rice galore, bird's nest soup, bread, and a few other things I'm no doubt forgetting. Oh, and flan for dinner. Now, as usual, even though I've politely told me a MILLION FUCKING TIMES I just don't like rice, that's just the way it is, people REFUSE to believe it.

I was asked all the usual questions "have you ever lived abroad? How do you like it here? Have you tried any native foods? Where have you visited here?"

Now, they're just trying to show interest, but the problem is that if I'm honest ("Uh, I'm bored out of my mind, asleep, or irritated about 80% of the time") that just might not go down too well...so I have to give people generic, dull, one word answers. "Not much. Not really. It's okay." That's not me, but why hurt people's feelings over something they can't change?

You know, the problem is, people are just following their own cultural edicts by trying to force me to eat rice, sing Videoke, and talk about something in a totally fake way, but I am really over it.

So, as usual for work parties, the host (in this case Nadj) ran around barking orders and trying to make people "participate". It was nice to be with work friends outside of work, but I just am having so much trouble getting over the "hump" of feeling comfortable with people. I just don't have the same ideas, dreams, and values.

I don't really like children. I don't want to get married anytime soon. My family is important to me but they live all over the US. I'm 31 and I'm a "career girl". I don't care about looking "hot" and wearing the latest designer gear. I hate videoke. Sitting around playing cards at mini stop is not my idea of a hot Friday night. And so on and so forth.

Don't get me wrong, I'm NOT criticizing this way of life, it's just not for me, and everytime I go to a party I really feel it.

The other party was at Anne's, on her rooftop, and it was slightly better, as there was at least one other North American there, who also is not totally into videoke (although she rented a machine.) Food was good, although once again, not something I would choose: white rice, fried rice, roast beef tenderloins, chicken, and tempura shrimp, and four kinds of super decadent cheese cake ( I chose wine instead). A few people brought their children, some people had a few glasses of wine or beer, people sat with their teams and mostly spoke in vernacular, people sang kareoke and talked about work, while Anne (the host) frantically bossed people around, handing out gifts and generally being a menace.

The rooftop itself was stunning, and the party was held at dusk, so the purple blue night air bathed everything with gorgeous light. The thing was, I had been in the grip of intense blues, barely holding it together while having a pre party very weak cocktail and making up my face before going. I just couldn't shake the feeling of sadness that was over me.

And it was justified, I think.

Here's what happened, as best as I can explain it:

About 2 weeks ago, when I heard about this party, Anne mentioned several times that people should bring their spouses or Sig O's and since almost everyone on the team is married, I was like "I'll be DAMNED if I'm going to be the only one with no date." So I asked Antony and he agreed to go.
The day of I just texted him a reminder at 1.30, like "hey, we still on?" and he texted back "Hey I just woke up."
Kind of not a good sign, in my book.
So I texted him "we on for 4.30 at my place?"
him: "ok."
It was at that point I started to get reaallll nervous. I didn't care so much about going by myself but I didn't want to wait until 4.45 to find out he wasn't coming. I just had this bad feeling about it.
He did indeed show up, at 5.00, and he told me about his weekend, and then we went.
It just...there was nothing wrong with how he acted, he just was quiet and didn't even sit next to me, choosing instead to sit across the table. The problem was once again, I had sort of failed to define what I wanted until I wasn't getting it, which was a date, not the services of a pinch- hitting- male- friend- who- I'm- kind- of- seeing.
so when I asked him if he wanted to go out or go back to my place or what after the party, he said "I'll drop you off at your house." Seeing as we took a trike, I was baffled. "Uh, you're going somewhere else?" He said he wanted to go home to sleep.

So after that I just wanted to leave, call a trike, and go home and lay down and go to sleep. The evening was shot. I didn't want to be there. He didn't want to be there either.

So we left shortly after that, I told him I could hail my own trike, after double checking that I really understood what he wanted (to go home alone and go back to sleep) and as I was getting in the trike, I told him "you're not going home." meaning "I don't believe for a minute that on a Sunday night at 9 PM you're headed 'home'. You'll get one text message on your way home and somehow magically find the energy to go out."
I was extremely angry and crushed, and when I got home, I kept thinking about that chair at the end of the table, between us, empty. I was thinking "he didn't even want to sit next to me at a party where he barely knew anyone else. How much clearer do you want the evidence to be, fool?"
All the reasonable explanations in the world can't convince me of what I can see with my own eyes is true: he doesn't want to be with me.
So...that's that. I'm going to try with all my willpower to stop attempting to make a silk purse out of a sow's ear and just call it a night with Kid Dynamite.
later, babies.