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personal

Living your own life is hard enough

Everyone has an opinion as to how someone else should live their lives

Me: And what do you want?
Him: It doesn’t matter what I want. My father wants me to marry a Korean girl.
Me: If he wants a Korean girl so much, he should marry one.

So an interesting subset of my post from last week on writing a dating profile was communication from about four different women noting that on the profile, I was 39 years old, looking for women that were 25-30.

What none of them seemed to realize was: in order for me to get that screengrab of my profile, I had to log into my old profile, which I did last week – at 39 years of age.

I’d not touched that profile since September 2008 – when I was 35. The site merely updated my age to 39 when I logged in in August 2012.

But here’s the thing: Even if I was 39, looking for women that are 25-30, isn’t that my business?

In other words, suppose I told someone I was attracted to black women. How revolting would it be if someone said, Logan! You’re a Chinese-American man. You should be ashamed of yourself, trying to date a black woman.

An actual message from someone except the person said I was a “39-year-old man” and instead of “black woman,” she said, “25 year old.”

Let’s take it a step further.

Suppose I said, I was looking for a black man. Sudden people get incensed one way or another.

The thing is my wife and I would probably have had issues 30 years ago with us being a mixed-race couple.

Why does everyone have an opinion as to what one adult finds attractive in another adult?

More mind-boggling, why do people think their opinions matter to anyone but themselves?

And when did they learn that their opinions are better than someone else’s opinions?

I know Asians that think I’ve “sold-out” by marrying out of my race. In fact, I was one of those people in my teens.

But I was a stupid kid – as evidenced by my admittedly poor clothing and hair choices. These are adults writing this.

Perhaps the most powerful thing I’ve ever learned in my life isn’t a fencing or a wrestling move, but rather this: What other people think of me is none of my business.

The moment you believe that statement – not just know it intellectually but truly believe it – you are separate from everyone else in the world.

You gain a membership into a cadre of thinkers and dreamers that live their lives in the world but unaffected by the world.

And it cuts both way: What you think of someone else is none of their business.

Then again, if someone isn’t living their own life, perhaps you should say something.

Me: Living one’s own life is hard enough. Doesn’t your father get tired of living your life too?
Him: (laughing) He means well.
Me: I’m sure he does. But – and this is admittedly none of my business – long after he’s gone, you’ll be stuck with the choices he makes for you. Your father lives his life. Your mother lives hers. You should live yours, yeah?

Location: in front of a cuppa joe and Mamma Lo’s carrot cake
Mood: you guessed it, crazy busy
Music: picture the scene, filming and screening, dreaming of me
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Categories
personal

There’s nothing you love you won’t lose some day

Art at the Grand Street Station in NYC

Been really busy with work, my overactive insomnia, and my pet projects but still managed to find some time for some mindless distractions. And, despite all of the bad press it’s gotten lately, there’s little better for mindless entertainment than Netflix.

One film we watched recently was this film called The Ramen Girl, which we had pretty low expectations for, which meant that it turned out to be better than we thought it would.

Always liked Brittney Murphy and I recalled reading somewhere that her husband died of a broken heart. It’s called the widower effect, but I don’t think that it’s only for marriage or that it’s even only a human trait.

Just found out yesterday that Joe Paterno died as well. Cancer they said. But I’d think it was something related.

It’s a sobering when y’realize that there’s nuthin you love you will not lose one day – either because he/she/it leaves or you leave. Everything goes away.

Find it odd that growing up, you’re taught how to read and write, and how to brush your teeth, but not how to survive the blows.

Then again, all education’s expensive.

Some far more than others.

Location: rainy NYC
Mood: tired
Music: didn’t want the train to come, now it’s departed. I’m brokenhearted.
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