As we're counting down to Christmas and the New Year's, everyone's most likely to be busy with writing about their Christmas' experience or writing that endless wish list (with the hopes that Santa might read it perhaps?) or reflecting back on what 2006 meant to them. I had wanted to do the same. However, I realized that I lacked in materials to write about both subjects.

You see, the only thing I fondly remember about Christmas is the brown gravy they served at dinner and that was when I was living in London eons ago. Can't see how I'm going to write one whole post on brown gravy, can you?

As for life in 2006, few words come to mind - awesome, fantastic, too good to be true, perfect (well almost *smirk*). Let's see, I snagged the most eligible bachelor earlier this year and I'm doing so well career-wise (getting 2 pay increments is a good thing, right?). I took a risk in switching jobs and glad to say that the risk paid off well. So for this entry, I'd like to take a moment to remember my firsts in relationships.


First Boyfriend
Mr Big-Ego-To-Make-Up-For-The-Little-Thing was only 12 years old when he set his sights on me. He was my secret admirer, who's cover was blown by another idiot who also had a crush on me. Thinking it would get my attention, that idiot blurted out to me, "Hey do you know so-and-so? He has this major crush on you." It was his nickname that got me curious. One day our paths crossed.

We became friends and started to hang out more as we trained together. It was a typical high school hook up. Both constantly looking for excuses to call or talk to the other. And we had a lot of things in common back then - skateboarding, taekwon-do, working out, the dysfuntional circle of friends. However, as time went on, I got bored. Everything became a routine - the dates, the phone calls, the conversation. I was also fed up of being labelled as his girlfriend. Somewhere along the way, my identity was lost. But it was fun while it lasted.


Deflowering of the Lips
I had wanted my first kiss to be special. Luckily for me, Mr Big-Ego-To-Make-Up-For-The-Little-Thing felt the same way too. He didn't want to ruin our first experience by stealing a kiss behind the toilet or something along that line. We had some Uzbezkhistanis come down to town for a competition. They didn't know that it was cancelled, so they were stuck in town. As host, it was our job to show them around. They've never been to the beach before, so that's exactly where we took them.

That trip was a changing point in my relationship with Mr Big Ego. We hung out at the beach. I don't remember the conversation we had but I sure do remember how beautiful the night was. The sky was full of stars, the cool breeze, the soft sand between my toes. And I remember thinking to myself,"Geez, kiss me already, you damn fool." He finally did, and yeah, I got them butterflies in my stomach. I'm glad we waited for the perfect moment.


First Love
Mr Bozzo and I were classmates in college. It was my first time away from home and I didn't know anyone when I came to the big city. He could've easily picked anyone else to be his friend but he chose me (he was easy on the eyes and such a lady's man!). At first, I was hesitant or shy or defensive even. Anyway, it took me a while to warm up to him. From the occasional hi's and bye's, we ended up sitting together in class. Everyday, from 8am to 5pm, we were together, he was my right hand and I was his left hand. And at night, we'd call each other up to talk about everything and nothing and everything else in between. We'd leave notes to each other and flirted with each other every chance we got.

Then on one outing, we went to the mall. As we were making our way down the stairs, he gave me a hug and asked,"Sayang or not? Don't lie." I remember the warm tingling feeling I had on that stairway and how I didn't give a hoot that people were staring at us. I wanted to scream Yes! and how relieved I was to be able to tell him how I felt. For the first time, I didn't want to let go. No other men had ever gotten close to making my heart beat the way it did with Mr Bozzo. And that was when I knew I had fallen in love for the first time.


Play the Game, But Don't Play the Player
Ahh, the art of cheating. I should be ashamed of myself for saying this, but cheating came so easy for me. I didn't feel guilty. As a matter of fact, I enjoyed the thrill that came with having an affair. I started early too - at the tender age of 16. I was already going steady with my first boyfriend when I became close to another skater guy *Derrick. After my date with Mr Big Ego, I went out with *Derrick. He was fun and he had a way to make me laugh. He flirted with me and I flirted back. He knew I was seeing someone else at the time but that didn't stop him. And I never rejected his advances.

My affairs slowly evolved from that point on. Sometimes I'd date up to 5 guys at one time. I was living the fast life and I was eager to know what my options were. At one point it got so crazy that I had to call my girlfriend up and ask her who I was dating at that time. Well, I'm glad I got the 'game' out of my system. I'm all in for monogamy now.


Deflowering of the 'Other' Lips
I'm going to tell you guys the two most important rule when it comes to sex. To those who hasn't lost the big V, if you don't think you're ready, DON'T. If you have doubts about doing it, DON'T. If you feel pressured to 'get it over and done with', again I have to say, DON'T. Rule no. 2, if the sex is bad or you're not sexually satisfied by your partner, then walk away from him/her. Sex is mostly about communicating to one another. So if it's bad, then your communication's bad. And trust me, no relationship can last if you can't communicate to each other. Period.

I have always regretted losing my 'sacred flower' the way I did. You see, I've always wanted to wait til I got married. It's true. And to make it worst, I lost it to Mr Big Ego. He pressured me into having it and at first, I kept telling him no. And he made me feel guilty for rejecting him by not letting me touch him, at all. He'd even throw tantrums at me. I wanted so desperately to make things work between the two of us (note: I was in a fucked up mental state at that time). We got back together at a point in my life I call The Dark Ages - I was confused, I didn't know who I am, who I'd become, I didn't know how my life got so fucked up (due to excessive partying and boozing and the drama that came along with clubbing buddies), I was piss scared of the future. I was so desperate to cling on to something that would give me a sense of normalcy, or security. He was that guy for me because he kept asking me to go back to him and therefore, made me believe that he was the only one who could love such a person.

So I thought to myself,"I should be so grateful to him for wanting me this much". So despite better judgement, I just gave it up. It was painful and horrible. There was nothing great about it. I expected him to be affectionate the next morning (because some moron told me that guys are more loving after doing it), but instead crap was all I got. I endured more crap from him for another year because I was too chicken shit to leave.


A Real Grown-Up Date
Dr. McDreamy was the kind of doctor you only see on TV - good looking, young, rich and a charmer. I walked into his clinic one day to get my head checked (yeah, really). I had to get some blood tests done and also had my brain scanned (scary experience, I kid you not!). So I had to visit him a few times. Each time I walked into his clinic, I couldn't help but blush. He was friendly and I won't deny that sparks flew between us. We flirted and giggled a lot. But nothing happened while I was under his care. He was the one thing that kept my mind distracted from what I was going through (they suspected it was tumor, but thank god it wasn't).

One fine evening, I received a call from him. He had my test results. I was so nervous. It was then that he asked me,"If your results are ok, would you go out with me?" As I already had a crush on him, it really was a no-brainer. He picked me up in his 7-series BMW and took me to a really fancy restaurant. I remember being on cloud 9... up until he took this tiny black box out from his pocket. Yes, he proposed right then and there. Needless to say, that brought me back to reality. I turned him down (now do you believe that I'm no gold-digger?).

The 30-year-old Dr McDreamy turned out to be Dr McNightmare as he continued to stalk me for a few months after that. But I'll always remember him as the oldest man I've ever dated and ever want to date ever again.