I’m at the ripe age of 27 and everyone around me seems to be getting engaged and married.  Especially for my friends, I’m genuinely happy for them- including the fact that I get to put on a fancy party dress and attend all these fabulous weddings.

That being said, I’m wondering what’s exactly is the point of marriage?

During my MBA, I’ve been taking a rather interesting class called Opportunity Identification by John Doggett (he recently kicked butt on a CNN interview).  In class, Doggett compares entrepreneurship and starting a business to relationships.  In both cases, you dedicate your soul and emotions into making the start up a success or the relationship work.  Trust is paramount in both a business partnership and a marriage.  You end up spending an incredible amount of time together.  But businesses and marriages alike fail.  More often than not, in fact.

It’s one thing to fall in love and want to share your life and create life with someone.  It’s another thing all together to merge assets, figure out what you want out of life (career, relationships, families) versus what the other person wants, and spend 50+ years with the same person day in and day out.  Sure, just because there’s a huge risk doesn’t mean the risk isn’t worth taking.  But thinking you’ll spend the rest of your life with someone doesn’t mean that it’ll happen.

Professionals switch jobs and more importantly locations and ambitions more and more.  Relationships that work for one year or one decade may not work in another.  Babies get made whether there’s a marriage license in the picture or not.

As we continue to be more connected and transitory, people can afford to support themselves, and the western world is becoming more individualistic than ever, will we still need the institute of marriage?

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Okay, maybe this is my cynicism and spinsterhood coming out.  Maybe when I do fall in love, I’ll dream of having the Cinderella wedding with a big puffy dress and all that crap.  But I don’t think my line of questioning is wrong.  Relationships and marriages with just love doesn’t work.  There’s has to be companionship, similar goals in life, and a willingness to make adjustments and sacrifices. That doesn’t happen very often, and even if something works in one moment, time increases the chances that all of those things between two people won’t stay aligned.  While there is a lot of amazing experiences to be derived from a relationship, marriage is a formality.  The merger of families and assets will need to get redivided in a divorce.  A ring on a finger doesn’t prevent cheating, for males or females. Children live more and more in non-nuclear, complicated family constructs.

So let’s forget about the marriage.  Have a “wedding” to celebrate your love but not a marriage.  Let’s not say “to death to us part” when we mean “for the time being.”

My biggest qualm is that as refreshing as the TV show was at the beginning, in observing love and romance in an urban environment like NYC, the movie has become just a safe.  I mean Big started as this unobtainable love interest and all of a sudden (somewhat of a spoiler), he’s a complacent wimp.  Yes, I get that this movie is more about Carrie than Big, but really?  When did he go from bachelor to old married guy who just wants to make his woman happy?  I mean saaapppppp… gggaaaaaggggg.

On the other hand, it’s the womanly fantasy, right?

You get the guy, who’s perfect but so involved in his own life that he’s too selfish and egotistic to care about anyone else’s emotion or logic.  A bad boy who gives amazing chemistry, among other things.  But then, he meets you.  And after some (6 years) of struggle, you finally get him… and he says… “You’re the one!”  O.M.G.  Yay!!!

[SPOILER] Sure he has some slip ups (worth $55.7 million during the first weekend of the first movie), but then in the second movie… perfect guy.  He loves you.  And even when you’re jacked up, he gives you a “punishment” that most women would die for as an anniversary present.  What just happened?  What happened to the honesty and cynicism with a tinge of optimism that first attract so many people to the show?

Does everything have to have a happy Disney ending?  How unreal as these expectations?

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I honestly believe that I’m finally ready to move on from this complicated relationship.  It certainly didn’t have a happy ending, actually, quite the opposite.  But I’m happy I went through it.  I’m no longer saddened.  In fact, I’m inspired for new love in the world and all the lessons I get to take with me.

Am I being too cynical when I think there doesn’t have to be a perfect ending?  That I’m happy for the journey but definitely ready to move on?

I’m 25, single, and contemplating the notion of marriage.  Is it something I really want or just another thing I should be doing at my age?  Do I really want want it or is it just because so many of my immediate friends are coupled?  If I meet that super-lucky someone, do I mean forever forever?  Or we’ll try our best but really we live like 50% longer than back in the olden days (what era am I referring to?  no idea), and we may end up growing into two completely different individuals who have nothing in common and at that point, we may mutually agree that we’ve loved and it was awesome, but now I really want to do something else?

And that got me to thinking about 2 things: 1) I’m Chinese, so it’s highly likely that even 50 years ago, I might be suited for an arranged marriage, and 2) even pre-airline/pre-personal car/heck, even pre-online dating era, it would be hard to get around, so even with choice, I’d be limited in who I date.

But is that necessarily a bad thing?  The lack of choice that is.

Sure, steamy 3 hours, your boyfriend’s bored to tears Victorian era movies wax of forbidden romance and the unhappy arranged marriage birthed from business deals.  Those aren’t reliable, are they?  It hasn’t been until recently that art really started to capture the lives of normal, non-elite/rich folk.  When I say ‘recently,’ I mean late 1800s?

I bet most people were happy in their marriages.  Different criteria; I’m sure women back then didn’t always assume that their husbands would be the end-all, be-all of friendship, love, companionship, & passion.  The divorce rate, due to religion & social stigma, was much lower.  This is completely a wild guess, but arranged marriages don’t sound that awful to me.  If you’re stuck in a situation, you’re going to make it work.

Isn’t the prospect of too much choice in marriage bad?  You’ll almost never find someone who’s exactly perfect for you.  And with 400 million people on Facebook, that’s at least 400 million people with internet connections and at most a 20 hour flight from you.

But if you’re forced to settled (that has an awful connotation but is it really that bad?), you’d probably be ok with Dick, James, or Bob.

In our way of thinking, perfection and good are nowhere close.  The big differentiating factor is not the relationship of perfect to good but expectation to reality.  We want perfect, and we’re likely to get pretty awesome but not quite there (I mean even Mary Poppins was ‘only’ “almost perfect in every way”).  Back in the day, the expectations were more likely pretty decent guy, who’s responsible, non-abusive, and gave you some damned space, and that’s probably what you got.

So maybe I should just lower my expectations?  Is Dan Gilbert really just trying to get laid?  Lol I’m not sure and no respectively.

Interesting exercise in paradigm shifts though.

I think this is my new favorite song.  I’ve been catching up on a bit of work and had the TV on watching American Idol Rewind, when this song came on.  It’s so what I need to hear right now.

Beautiful!

Okay, back to work now.

For example… for those on a budget…

Valentine’s Day is on a Sunday this year.

1. Prep.  On Saturday, get the following things:
   • 3-5 Candles| $5 | Skip out on Yankee.  Grab the ones from the dollar store.  You don’t need them to burn forever.
   • Bubble bath solution/scented oil | $5 | Even if you get the good kind, grab a small bottle.  Seriously, how often do you bathe/shower?
   • Roses | $10 | You’re just using the petals.  Don’t give a crap if they look kinda sad.
   • Sticky notes | free | If you don’t have them cut piece of paper.  Extra points for pink paper.  Extra points for cutting them into hearts. Write notes of them that say “This way.”
   • Food | $10-20 | Stick to simple breakfast items unless you’re a good cook.  Eggs, sausage, bacon, bread, pancakes, ice cream, OJ. Don’t forget butter, oil, syrup, her fave condiments.
   • Box of chocolates | $10 | Take out all the chocolates & put them on a plate.  Write notes about each thing you like/love about her and put them in the box.
2. Sunday 30 min before she gets up | Fill the tub with hot water.  Drop couple drops of scented oil/bubble bath ($5) in the water.  (I said COUPLE of drops. Not the whole darn thing.) Quickly clean the bathroom. Clear the surfaces and wipe them down with Lysol.  Close the toilet lid.  Scrub the bathtub.  Grab some candles (3-5 will do = cost $5 if you don’t already have them at home).  Pull petals off roses EXCEPT ONE and put them in the water after the tub is full. Light the candles last. Driving you to the hospital… not romantic.  Be organized but fast.  If she has to pee, tell her to hold it.
3. Sunday 5 min before she gets up | Hopefully, she hasn’t already gotten up.  If she has, skip this part.  If not, place the sticky notes in a trail leading to the bathroom.  Leave the last one on her face.  Give her a kiss.  Sweetly say, “It’s time for your surprise. Follow the trail.”  Go to the bathroom.  Stick the last sticky note “Kiss me good morning” on yourself.
4. Bath time! | Tell her happy Valentine’s Day.  How much you appreciate her.  Want this day to be special.  Feel free to insert your own 3 sentences. Tell her to take a bath.  This is her time. Kiss her and lock her in the bathroom.
5. Breakfast | While she’s bathing, go to the kitchen.  Make breakfast.  Also take out the plate of chocolate.  Make a dessert by scooping out ice cream into bowls and using the chocolates as garnish.  Put back in freezer.  Clear the dining room table (just shove the contents into a cabinet). Place remaining rose on her side of the table and set the table. When she comes out refreshed, you know… eat.
6. Chocolates | Give her the box of chocolates and watch her read each message.  Take dessert out of the freezer, and make some quip about how she still get her chocolates.
7. Sex | <insert elevator music> ….
8. Go do something you both like to do | Snuggle up for movies.  Go for a stroll.  If you on the coasts where cities are close to each other, visit a quaint little town, i.e. Half Moon Bay or Old Town Springs (TX).  Go to the zoo.  Go skiing or at least hot tubing.  This can be as expensive or not as you want.  (If you’re like me and wake up at noon, it’ll already by 6pm by the time you’re done with steps 1-7.  So this is a prime time to grab from Taco Bell, watch some Fox Sunday night cartoons, and repeat 7. teeheee)

Total cost: $40-50

I’m not sure what it takes.  But every few months, I really miss him.  It’s been almost a year, and I haven’t been able to find anyone that even closely compares.

Is this really just a great love?  Or a great obsession?  Shouldn’t I be moving on?  Has he?

I don’t even want to date anyone.  Anywhere.  Doing anything.  LOL I’m being so ridiculous.  Things are actually going well for me!  I feel lighter (not literally).  My social life resembles that of a normal person (finally out of hermit-mode).  My cat is so cute, I just want to squeeze her into nothingness.  I have a gigantic apartment with a great job (and too many HR violations to speak of drawn on our whiteboard wall).

Maybe it’s the fact that I haven’t had a real hug in well… just about a year (thanks Vicky!).  Or sometimes when things are crappy, there’s no one to cuddle in bed with.

Okay, maybe it’s the fact that I love that he likes to spoon.  That he’s so logical but totally goofy.  Or maybe because we both like awful action movies and silly cartoons. Or that he makes the most comfortable pillow and as soon as I cuddle in his arms, I’m fast asleep and comfortably so.

…

Hmm… obsessive it is.

I’ll shut up and go on a date or at least get out of the house.

I was intrigued.  And on some levels I still fall for the fairytale, TV crap that doesn’t represent a real sense of life and love.  [Spoiler alert... sorta]

Do I really believe that I’m going to fall madly in love with someone, who will fly over oceans to reach me and confess his love?  No.  Of course not.  But I don’t think love is dead.  Despite the cynicism and high percent of divorce rates, I do think love is out there.  For me even.  I still believe, someone (maybe even someones) will love me in all my imperfection and would proclaim his love for me.  Who finds my dorkiness adorable and has patience when I don’t.  A love that’s easy and doesn’t require me to pull out my hairs to make him care.

I’m utterly surprised by myself.  Even after a devastating break up, a true core shaker, watching Cupid brought out hope that I deserve love… and not despair that it would never happen to me.

So here’s to taking chances, even if it means falling and picking myself back up again.

(I never thought I’d be here.  Going to school in Philly brought out the cynical side, but something about the spirit of the Bay Area brings out the risk taker in me. )

Interracial dating.  I’m probably going to experience introducing my parents to a boyfriend who isn’t Asian, much less Chinese.  Sure the dating part is usually pretty well accepted.  However, when the relationship progresses to something more serious, how will our parents react.

From what I’ve heard recently, the younger generation (teen/tweens) are pretty race ambiguous and aren’t programmed to think in terms of race.  So for them, in the future, to get married to someone of a completely different race, shouldn’t be a huge issue.  But what about us?  Many of us still have very traditional parents.  Especially in the immigrant Chinese community, where my parents operate, it’s a huge deal.

I remember going home this past Christmas.  Two of my family friends were introducing their significant others to the community over holiday dinners.  In one of the instances, the guy happened to be white, which if a Chinese family had to rank the acceptability of other races, white would be at the top of that list.  Still though, there was a huge chasm of culture and language barriers.  There was no precedent, so the hostess was being extra polite and sometimes a bit crass.  In the case of the Middle Eastern girl, the father of my friend was furious.  He refuses to talk about the subject.

As with many boys in the immigrant Chinese community, at least through my experience, they’re expected to carry the name, find a nice (sometimes submissive) Chinese girl and honor the family.  So it’s very hard for them to date anyone outside the race at all.  With a Middle Easterns, blacks and other minority races, many of our parents aren’t actually racist towards them.  Okay, many are, but the liberal parents are more worried about how we (their offspring) will be treated, if we associate ourselves with the discriminated race.

What’s frustrating for me, is that I don’t really care.  I’m not going to not date someone just because I will get shit from my community.  After all, I’m the one who will have to live with my significant other for the rest of my life (hopefully).  It’s just frustrating that who I date will affect how my parents are perceived in the community.

I just hope my parents won’t take it standing down.  To judge someone based on their race and stereotypes is completely ignorant, and if you have a problem with someone because of their race, keep it to yourself.  Better yet, hang out with that community and discover just how wrong you are.

BTW, I did a Google search on “interracial dating asian black” and got 2 results in 5 pages that actually showed a black and Asian couple.  I’m really glad I spotted this picture on The Tyra Show website.  Even if interracial dating becoming more prevalent, I’m not seeing that many Asian and black couples yet.  (But we should!  Just imaging how beautiful the babies would be! lol)

There are so many emotions that you may feel towards a person.  As danielac puts it:

I’m physically attracted to you. I find you intellectually stimulating and would love to have profound conversations with you. I want to be able to argue with you without either of us ending up mad. I just want to have a conversation with you without a red Solo cup in my hand.

All of that is supposed to be embodied in the word “like.”  But is it really? What if “like” isn’t adequate to describe your emotions, but love isn’t quite there yet?

The word “like” comes from the Old English word, līcian.  According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, “like” means “to feel attraction toward or take pleasure in; to feel toward; to wish to have” among other definitions.

In terms of relationships, the word “like” doesn’t always seem to be enough.  I like lots of Tobasco with my omelette; I like eating Kinder candy and remembering my fading memory of Germany; I like the black, bustier cocktail dress that I bought.  But I more than “like” the person that I’m dating.

What do you say in the interim of like and love?

• “I adore you”: That’s so very old school.  I feel like a suave guy in a suit is supposed to whisk me away and say that to get me into bed.
• “I really like you”: Really?  Really really or just really?
• “I appreciate you”: I appreciate my friends.  Don’t dump me on that shelf.
• “I relish you”: That’s pretty hot, but how many guys actually say that?

I’m not likely to say any of those, so I guess for now… I guess I do fucking like you… until a better word comes along.

So without further anecdotes, here are my 2008 lessons and 2009 goals:

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Hope

It’s a strong word.  One that’s lost so much meaning between the years of 2000 and 2008… and between a virginal 16 year old and a budding 24 year old.

As my friends and I debated over the merits of Hillary and Barack, and then Obama and McCain, this year, I’ve come to understand the utter simplicity and difficulty of conveying and garnering the spirit of hope.  I’d become too pessimistic in America’s ability to make the best decision for the world, too jaded by money and power and politics.  And on that new November day, I cried (okay, wailed) because I had been so naive in losing faith in that simple, singular concept.

That my single ticket only made a marginal difference to the Obama ticket is insignificant compared with the inspiration and hope that leaped through my eyes and streamed down my face, when I found out that our country has a future.  Yes, a tough one in the year(s) ahead.  But it’s a necessary one.

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Maturity

I’m a spoiled brat.  It’s taken me this long to figure it out.  And I have a pretty legitimate excuse.

I’m the only child of immigrants.  I understand what it’s like to lose the only pair of shoes of the cheapest doll in the store because my parents had to ‘splurge’ to even get me that one.  And guess what?  There’s no replacing it.  I worked damn hard for my grades.  Being rejected from my choice middle school meant that high schools were calling me into the principal’s office to sweet talk me into attending (yes, it really happened and it was High School for the Performing and Visual Arts – I guess I’m the rare bass playing, Asian female) and my choice college- The Wharton School, University of Pennsylvania.  Sure, I’m proud.  Because I earned it.

But I’m also spoiled.  I learned how to use a washing machine at age 16, when I attended Wharton’s Leadership in the Business World (LBW) program for high school students.  I learned how to use the dish washer 3 weeks ago, when Julie a manager at SHIFT taught me- I’m used to washing by hand.  I have lots of clothes and more than enough shoes to own a boutique- 110 at the last count… yes, that’s pairs.  The material things, the ‘stuff’ that didnt directly contribute to my educational/career goals, were handed to me.

… Well, I learned a lot this year.  First of all, I learned how to share, which being an only child is a pretty new concept.  I thought I knew.  Turns out… not so much.  I have to compromise more.  Things aren’t always going to go the way I want. I’m not really ‘deserving’ of anything.

Most importantly, I learned how to take care of someone else and keep a living thing, well, alive.  (Hi, baby!)

(She’s 8 months old on Christmas Day.  Since her physical in August, she’s gained 5 lbs… which for a kitteh who used to weigh 4 lbs, is a lot.)

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Work

I thought I was a rock star just blasting away projects.  Turns out, yes, I am a rock star at that (yes, yes, I win the award for humility in 2008).  BUT.  BUT.  BUUTTEEEEHHHHH.  There’s a lot more to being a rock star than I realized.  There’s getting along with co-workers, working in a team, understanding compromise (see above), realizing the needs to different teams (and roles within the company), prioritizing, the dedication (and time and rewards) of managing someone… okay, I’m not going to name all of them… but you get the idea.

THIS is a lesson they don’t seem to teach in college (WhyTF not?!?!) and yet, a critical one.  It’s so important that it deserves to be a lesson of 2008 and a goal for 2009.

2008: Learn to rock out.  Check.

2009: Learn to sing in tune.

(I’m using this picture because I absolutely believe my PR agency is one of the BEST places to work… I’m saying this as a singular person with no prompting from the company.  Views expressed here are in no way associated with… etc.)

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2009 Goals:

Get Healthy

That picture above is pure lard (ew.).  In 2008, I lowered my cholestrol by 40 points.  (YAY, whoohoo!!!).  I’m so glad because I’m young enough to do something that dramatic in a year.  In another 24 years, not so much.

So I want to keep going at it in 2009.  It’s not about being thin or pretty.  I’m okay with being my size (10-12… 14 on fat days. P).  I like being an Asian with boobs, even if that means I have thighs like whoa.  And I am pretty.  (If you don’t agree, 1. shut up and 2. don’t be around me cuz I don’t need your negativity.)

I’m saying yes to the gym, and no to size 2′s.  I got 10 up on ya, and I’m good.  Thanks.

(That’s me in the middle.  It’s the most recent picture available online.  It’s not the most flattering, but I’m happy with it.)

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Get Smart

There are several steps to this:

1. Read.  Like a lot.  Like newspapers and blogs and magazines.  No, not the funny one or the gadget ones or the fashion ones.  World news and business and industry trends.  Understand where the trends may be heading and how to hedge them, lead them or at least differentiate within/from them.
2. Start going out more and learning from people.  I can only learn so much from reading, and it’s faster, and more fun, to interact with people.
3. Figure out how my diverse (and sometimes misunderstood role) benefits the non-marketers.  That includes within the agency, to friends and family, around people who can’t differentiate marketing from say… PR or advertising or focus groups.  Cater to each group.  While (this is the hard part) keeping myself sane.
4. Find my happiness.

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Get Me (Back)

When entering Wharton, I was an ENTJ (Myers Briggs).  The basic catch phrase is “My way or the highway.”  ENTJs are extroverts, hugely aggressive, go-getters, strong, fierce, egotistical… and most adjectives that describe your typical Type A, ‘end justifies the means’ personality.

Now, I’m a… I don’t remember, but it’s like the exact opposite.  I’m more introverted, mothering, looking to make everyone happy… basically, what my ENTJ-self would call a softie (or more rudely, a pussy).  Maybe not all my friends would agree with that assessment.  It’s what I feel inside.  And I’m playing a jacked up battle trying to figure out which one I am.

Well I’m not either.  As I’m getting closer to understanding exactly what personality I play in my groups of friends, coworkers, acquaintances, the goal isn’t one way.  It’s the balanced way.  It’s me… whoever that is.

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So that’s my list.  These are the major ones.  I’m quite proud of the psychological and emotional growths in the past year.  It’s been a tough year.  But a necessary one.

Here’s to 2009.  It’s going to be tough.  But (you know it) necessary.

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Merry Christmas.  Happy Hanukkah.  Wonderful Holidays.  Peace.  Safety.  Love.  Sharing.  Hope.