Oh, the lies people feel compelled to tell — pat little lies that slip thoughtlessly out of their mouths…the equivalent of small talk, really.

If you bump into someone you know but don’t really want to talk to on the street (but you weren’t clever enough to avoid them in the first place with a quick duck and roll into the nearest shop or simply to abruptly turn the other direction and start pumping your legs like Godzilla was coming your way), you’ll inevitably hit on the safe subjects like the weather.

If you bump into an older Asian aunt you haven’t seen in a million years (and frankly, you’re surprised that this person is still alive) at a wedding, you’ll invariably have to fess up to the fact that, no, you’re still not married; and no, you still don’t have a boyfriend. But pluck up! Elderly Asian Aunty will tell sagely tell you the same cow dung that all elderly Asian aunties have been saying since you were 25 and should have “officially” been dating someone (a Chinese man no older than five years from a “good” family):

Don’t worry, you’ll find someone. Next, it’ll be your turn.

Oh, I’m not worried.

I’m wayyyy past worrying.

What you see before you now is someone who has accepted the fact that I am alone right now — don’t know if that’s going to be the case in the future or if settling down with someone who’s also willing to settle for me will be an option.

Don’t know, don’t care.

It’s surprisingly possible not to care after awhile. You just have to go through several cycles of deep, deep depression — hell, you might not even think you’ll survive that, but somehow, you do. And then, after some false starts where you give in, once in awhile, to hope and then depression and then hope and then back to depression, you start to become increasingly apathetic.

If you’re driven, you become scarily focused with work. Money can be a soothing balm, after all.

Anyways, the wedding wasn’t so bad.

The Childhood Nemesis looked very pretty actually and was practically glowing. Unlike other demure Asian brides, she answered “I do” in such a loud, clear voice that you just knew she was out of her mind with joy to be marrying this guy.

I was a little surprised she introduced me to other people as her “childhood best friend.” I looked at her like she had bumped her head and “jokingly” said more like “childhood nemesis” since she was so annoyingly perfect. (Everybody thought I was joking…but as always, I just tell the truth.)

I didn’t wear a “weird” outfit, though my dress was probably way more casual than what other people were wearing.

I got this floral-print maxi from Urban Outfitters. (I probably buy way too many clothes from there — and I shouldn’t. I’m probably going to be one of those sad women who doesn’t dress her age, forever dressing like a broke college student.)

Memo to self: don’t rub belly after eating too much. This guy offered me his seat ’cause he thought I was pregnant.

Not much else to report.

I’d like to say I met the man of my dreams, but whoever made up that lie about weddings being a great place to meet guys should be shot. It’s not true.

I was, however, introduced to this guy whom one well-meaning aunt thought was “perfect” for me. (Read: he was single.)

He was short, dumpy-looking, had really bad breath, and the bizarre mix of greasy hair and dandruff.

He’s been unable to find a job in his field for awhile and has been stocking grocery shelves for the last little bit.

He spoke with a thick, thick Chinese accent and I learned he was an actual China man — as in, he’s from China.

He “joked” about how he needed a wife to clean up after him because his basement apartment is a complete sty.

Um, yeah. There’s a winner right there.

I think what pained me the most was that more than one person said I should go for him — as if, at this stage in my life, I shouldn’t be so picky.