The night will go as follows.

Bicycle. Guitar. Cut. Lorazepam. Breakdown. Cigarette. Repeat.

Figures.

I never get what I want, and why should I?

You don't deserve to be lonely, but those drugs you got won't make you feel better.

Sometimes I think I like feeling miserable. It's better than feeling nothing. I get so bored. I don't know if I can be happy anymore. I'm a mess I guess. All the Elliott Smith songs can't save me now. If I'm Charlie from Perks, I don't know how many Sams I've let go of. I'm not assertive at all and I'm too tired to be confrontational anymore.

Ode to the Nice Guys.

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

I'm not a card-carrying Buddhist...

but some things are just common sense. I guess this is about two days late, but we had a discussion in my Psychology of Asian Americans class and the subject came up. In Buddhism, we are taught that if we desire less, then we can find peace. Master Cheng Yen says, "Material objects were meant to be tools for us to use. Yet, lacking wisdom, we are perpetually discontent, and we thus become enslaved by material objects." In my last post, I said I needed a plane ticket to Taiwan, but do I really? There are so many people who have never even been on a plane, and I've been to Taiwan three times last year. All that wanting was just making me discontent and jealous of others who do have the opportunity to go back this month. It shouldn't have to be that way. I'm constantly reminding myself that I have so much that others don't have. I have a great sense of style and a good head on my shoulders. I have met some of the most amazing people in this world whom others only dream of meeting. I have so much more. I'm lucky.

Back to class. I don't know why I get so nervous. Well, actually I do know. My professor is gorgeous and Taiwanese, and utterly unattainable. I don't know what it is about all these professors, camp counselors, team captains, managers, popstars, older people that I have crushes on. I suppose it's their position of authority. I finally tested out my anxiety medication and it seems to be working fine. I don't fall asleep or anything, so it should be safe for class. I sometimes wonder though just because my doctor says I will get drowsy, do I really get drowsy just because I think I'm supposed to or because I really am? Maybe all he gave me was a placebo. I don't know.

Anyway, some ignorant kid chimed in that if nobody wanted anything, the economy would be bad. Newsflash! The economy is already in a spiralling downfall. How uneducated do you have to be not to realize that. I guess it really is on us to educated the ignorant and help the poor. If nobody desired anything, the world would be a better place. People would help each other out of goodwill and not ulterior motives. Companies, CEOS, the wealthy, the poor, they wouldn't want anything from you. We wouldn't have greedy Republicans who already have so much, yet they want more. Lastly, we wouldn't have ignorant people who pay $50 for a shirt from the bargain bin that was probably made by sweatshop kids.

I don't know if I want to drop this class. I've gotten perfect scores on my quizzes and homework and I know it's an easy A. I kind of sense some favoritism going on though and normally I wouldn't really care, but under these circumstances... well, that's another story. I don't really need any long lasting psychological damanges. I've had enough.

My life is so hard!

Nobody told me about Malaysia Airline's $427 L.A. to Taipei round trip plane ticket deal. I'm broke as a joke. Everyone is going back to Taiwan this month, especially those who already went in December. It's not fair. I won't get to go to my cousin's school carnival. I won't be able to go to Spring Scream in Kenting. I won't see Bobo the stripper. I won't get to see Molly and get my present and give her hers. I won't be able to see A-Mei and give her another kiss on the cheek. I won't be able to go to her concert or her after party and drink with her and her agents. I'll be letting down everyone I promised I would come back to see in March. Three months is too long.

Why am I still single?

Hahah I don't know why people are constantly asking me that yet not doing anything to change it. I know exactly why though. My standards are too high and I think too much of myself. I know what I want and I won't settle for any less. I've met perfection and that's what I hope to attain. How can you even if think of being with me without meeting said requirements? We have moments in life where you know if you had said or done something different, it could have changed everything. Some moments we take hold of and some we let slip us by. Perhaps what could have been a short term relationship turned into a long term friendship instead. Doesn't friendship last longer than love? After all, friendship requires love too, but on a less shallow level. Maybe you didn't think it was a moment until you think about it in hindsight. So the next time you take her to the mountains to see the stars, and it's raining and you drive her home in your Mercedes-Benz, and you want to kiss in the rain, ask her, "Have you ever kissed in the rain?" Because she could be your last chance at happiness. The next time she says she'll see you in a month, wait for her. Cherish those moments because maybe there won't be a next time. It's too late for regrets. I don't believe in them anyway.

Viktor and I went to Old Town today and we met an old-coworker whom neither of us remember. We found out the girl at the jewelry store's name is Anastasia and that she's underage and probably Russian I'm guessing. Hahah. Ironic how you don't even bat an eye at anyone else when you have a popstar in your sights. The next person I date will be the last. I'm tired of flings. I want forever.