I was flicking through a copy of September's National Geographic the other day and read a story about a woman who has devoted her life to studying elephants in Kenya. I thought to myself that I'd love to spend the rest of my life visiting such people, hearing their stories, and so on.

Panang Curry

And living on my boat, of course, sailing, and so on.

The thing I always told him was that I am not your average chick. I am not waiting to be told how to live. I never go to the hair salon. I have even lived fully during my 'career'. I have planned it so that I can retire young to continue living fully. I am not average. So don't fck with me. And if you do, I will become a headcase. I am now a headcase, but I know that just beneath the surface is me, the original me, or OM for short, who will find happiness again, who will travel again, who will eat exotic, cheap food again.

So there you have it.

Hmm. If he met friends and didn't come back to get me, then I don't want to go to Vegas.

This is my lamest winter vacation ever.

I always used to go somewhere interesting; Nepal, Sri Lanka, Morocco, Egypt, plus many more wonderful destinations. I screw up by coming here but I do it for love. 

I am not sure love is worth it anymore.

I am happier alone.

I have gone too far.

Or, if I lose him, because of pushing him away like this, will I regret it?

I think I am fortunate to not have fallen in love until I was 39.

I had 39 stress-free years.

For those years, I am thankful.