I’m irrascible today. Snappy and foul. I stink up the place with edges and tight corners and forgotten peeves. Mostly I miss western style conversation.

Thankfully, I can fall back on habits strong enough to reel back in the friends I alienate. “You type so fast – you must be a great secretary.” The habits are strong enough that my heart feels real appreciation. I force out many socially required good graces, as I grit my teet in expectation of MY societies good graces. Edge. Discourse.

My social needs can be met in Asia as easily as Cinderella’s romantic urges can be met by her husband 5 years and 3 babies after her social climax.

It gets on you, as is wears you. Until you wake up on edge with the frustration of boredom; the lack of discourse-moisture making your skin itch and crack.

Just go ahead and try, within the local expections, with heat shields and clouds and puffy cushions and air bags to decelerate the impact, just try to begin to explain cultural differences, and the locals will reach for their flags to fend off the devil

Asians are indirect, obtuse, obfuscating. They can not tolerate a question about their personal being. They don’t have a personal being, and would rather not feed such a perverse growth. They have concerns about propriety, culture, fitting in, debts to family, obligations, face, and status.

It is impossible to have a western style conversation with an Asian enculturated person – never the twain shall meet. You have to be oh so tippy toe about feelings, and not directly point to anything that could be controversial. If you do, don’t expect controversy to ensue.

And while I feel that there is no substute for western educated friends, many people have been complaining about western educated women lacking the Asian feminine mystique. Asian women have their own very specific super power, and western women act as if they have no idea what that is or how that works. Western women are too heady to want to even approach the issue. They believe that the word “shallow” holds more weight than the word “sexy”.

There are some things western women would prefer to defend against, to deflect, to reflect outwards into someone else’s sin. What is the word for that? To project. Western women raise their solidarity flags to fend off the devil of how the mating game works. To fend off responsibility for being sexy, and admitting what it is they want. Of owning up to how Cinderella could attract a prince in the first place, and the fact that she didn’t do it with the blacksmith’s son who was hitting on her all those years.

“Asians are so petite and short, and men who go to Asia are so big and fat and bald. Asians are so poor, and men who go to Asia are so deluded about how important money is to those girls.”

The western woman’s complaint against men dating in Asia is a litany against their own unconscious values. Yes, petite is sexy. Whose problem is that? Who invented that? Oops, my bad! I like petite. Yes, women like power and money and status. Who invented that? Asian women?

Western women pretend that the give and take involved in seduction is somehow supposed to be focused on something that has no physical basis. As if that is somehow more real.