It seems like I’m running into more and more attractive, older women lately. By older, I mean older. Like Julianne Moore or Jodie Foster around-40-but-still-attractive older.

I try to explain this to Trolley, and he gives me the squinted eyes look, as if he’s thinking, “Forty? Did he just say forty? Maybe he meant fourteen. But that’s even worse! Where’s my beer?”

I think it just comes from the fact that these women are still physically attractive at a stage in their lives that’s generally not associated with that sort of thing. I can appreciate the fact that they keep in shape at their age, even after they’ve had kids. I suppose that it’s a bit of a correlation, that they’re willing to work on such things for their husbands, and that’s what stands out to me. Maybe I’m just sick of the girls I meet that are my age.

Know what’s scary? Leave-in hair treatment like Infusium 23. I bought some by mistake cause I thought they only made conditioners, so I reached for the wrong bottle. I think I’ve been programmed to fear leaving in conditioner. Still, the leave-in treatment is fucking good. The tips of my hair are usually totally fried (I shower right before I sleep and have major bed-head every morning) but now they just seem so soft and manageable.

I went to buy some wristbands, because rule number 3.4.4.1.2 of the 2004 ITTF Handbook basically states that people can only towel off once or twice a game. I look around for some Adidas wrist bands, since I usually play in Adidas trunks, but unfortunately, every place I look either has no Adidas wristbands, or they have the Adidas non-racquet-sport wristbands, the ones that are twice as long and constrict the wrist. There was a set that was some brand I never heard of, but it was half price and the logo looked like the skip button on an MP3 player so I decided to buy it anyway. Turns out that this brand is actually Karl Kani, a brand name in urban fashion.

Let me back things up for a second here.

I’m pure Chinese by blood, raised in a neighbourhood of subtle families who paid off their mortgages, bought mini-vans to drive all their kids to hockey practice, and spent the weekends planting new sets of flowers in their gardens. I went to a high school for the sons of rich couples and government officials. MY FREAKIN NAME IS JEFF. I’m probably the last person who should be wearing “urban fashion”.

So yeah.

wut wut.

Doesn’t it suck to find two copies of the same book with different translations, and the inferior translation is the one in hard-cover or the better design? I’m a sucker for a nice looking book.

It’s funny to be nervous about talking to someone, and then realize that they’re just as nervous when the time finally arrives. The double nervousness makes for some awkward pauses.

I had the chance to witness (as opposed to being involved in) such a thing once on the bus. A guy and a girl, who must have been in their early 20’s and both rather obviously attracted to each other, sat in adjacent seats separated by the aisle. I could just hear the thought processes going on in their heads as pause time seemed to stretch out towards infinity. Every so often, they would turn to each other and say something. Of course, they’d blurt out things at the same time and struggle to see who would get to talk first, resulting in further awkwardness.

I think that the key to recognizing this kind of nervousness is all in listening to what’s not being said.