The Diarization Process

I’m doing a very bad job if I want to be a diarist. I’m always thinking of the honesty factor: Should I be shamelessly honest in my entries, or should I manipulate them according to my audience? Am I really going to allow access to my personal “journals”?

Anyhoo, while the ideas above are left to cook, let’s try the diarization process, shall we?

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Friends should be excused from pleasantries. The whole how-are-you routine is wasted on friends. It doesn’t really serve a purpose in our relationships; we always know it’s coming, and we always know the answer to it. “Hey, how are you?” “I’m good, yourself?” “I’m good.” That’s about 10 seconds wasted. We know what’s coming next, too. There’s nothing else to follow that except, “How’s your family? Boyfriend? Work?” And the answer is the same. “All good”. Which is about 20 more seconds wasted. This leads to about 5 more seconds of time wastage when there is a very short, awkward silence while friends try to figure out the best way to segue into what’s really happening in their lives.

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I’ve been spending most of my time watching Desperate Housewives. I have only good things to say about it. It seemed pretty superficial and mundane to me at first, just mindless entertainment and pure soap opera of the telenovela kind. And yet, there is profundity in all its simple glory. I am all the characters of this TV series, every man, woman, child.

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James Bond lives in an unreal world of (get ready for a series of keywords) luxury, cars, tailored suits, European women, five-star hotels, expensive gadgets, betrayal, sex, and travel. That’s a lot of money in one sentence. I enjoyed the last one only because I’m so used to the Bond culture; I grew up with men idolizing him. The new Bond actor (Craig something or other, I think) is sexy enough. He’s got the body, and his face, however comical, has its own uncultured charm, lent to it by the role he is playing. His looks are very cruel, though, and his eyes... not mischievous, that’s too cute a word, maybe a little sinister, and the set of his mouth stubborn. There’s nothing else to discuss about this movie, it’s not exactly profound. Besides, the main character is bigger than the movie.

The Size of Asia

Asia is the largest continent in the world. According to Microsoft Encarta, it covers an estimated 44,391,000 sq km (17,139,000 sq mi), or about 30 percent of the world’s total land area. Its peoples account for three-fifths of the world’s population.

I have thoughts in my head the size of Asia. They come rushing through my brain and I struggle to keep them organized into countries, cities, little islands. I think of every little detail, of every little gesture and all its tiny, tiny implications.

My Asia is bounded on the north by the great waters of my Ambition. I long to be the best, to be looked up on, to be envied. On the east, my relationships with my family and their extended family, on the South by the vast sea of people I meet and make friends out of. On the west lies my long stream of weaknesses, a stream that continues along the mountains of insecurities and on to a huge waterfall of failure that I am frightened of and yet am unable to avoid.

Because of its vast size and diverse character, my Asia is divided into five realms: 1) who I am when nobody is watching, 2) who I am with my friends, 3) who I am with my siblings, 4) who I am when everybody else is listening, 5) and who my parents would like me to be.

I have excess baggage the size of Asia. They come in many forms. For instance, the shoes that I hoard and never wear. I have boxes and boxes of stilletoes, pumps, peep-toes, boots, round-toes, kitten heels, sandals, slip-ons, flip-flops that gather dust under the hung clothes. I have tons of paper and books that are piled on top of each other, dangerously teetering. I have notes I've written down throughout the years, sitting, waiting to be published.

I have ambitions the size of Asia. I want to be a doctor, a lawyer, an interior designer, a marketing manager, a creative director, a businesswoman, a lyricist, an actor.

I have identity issues the size of Asia. My patriotic pride lies under thick layers of embarrassment, of apologetic remarks that defend my people's behaviour, under layers of American accents and deep denial. I am Asian.

I have obsessions the size of Asia.

I have dreams the size of Asia.

The size of Asia moves me.