Since I'm in the mood to have more of ee cummings, why not something erotic?
People have this impression that poems are just a bunch of sweet nothings recited to loved ones when they are proposing marriage or something written on Valentine cards. Or poems are words to use to impress someone, or to appear eloquent. I think poetry is the most plagiarized of literature. Next to academic research papers, I mean. But that's not literature. Anyway, I'm veering away from the topic...
Good poetry is not about eloquence, but feelings, and images it invokes in the reader. At least that's what a good poem is to me. I used to write poetry, but then I began worshipping these poets and I fear that my insecurities overrides my passion to write poetry. Maybe someday I'll start writing again. For now, I'm content to drown in the words these poets write. They are beautiful, profoundly simple ...and it may sound cliche but I don't have words to describe their brand of poetry.
My favorites are Dickinson, Cummings, Millay, Neruda and old poets like Byron, Shakespeare, and Shelley. But today, I'd like to shatter that impression that poetry is boring. That it is for geeks like me who adores dead people who used to write beautiful words. Well, you're wrong.
I, a certified repressed perv, know many titles of erotic poems. But here's my favorite. Read it and weep. Or, not weep exactly, just let your imagination flow, and if you don't think this is hot, there's something seriously wrong with you.
i like my body when it is with your
body. It is so quite new a thing,
Muscles better and nerves more.
i like your body. i like what it does,
i like its hows. i like to feel the spine
of your body and its bones, and the trembling
-firm-smooth ness and which i will
again and again and again
kiss, i like kissing this and that of you,
i like, slowly stroking the, shocking fuzz
of your electric fur, and what-is-it comes
over parting flesh....And eyes big love-crumbs,
and possibly i like the thrill
of under me you so quite new
-- ee cummings
Tuesday, November 30, 2004
I'd Rather... ee cummings
I can hear the poem of ee cummings clearly in my head, (with the voice of Hugh Grant or Ralph Fiennes or other such good looking voice with an accent) and I'd like to ponder on it. But I'm no ee cummings and my take on this will probably look like a list of some sorts or for sure, some haphazardly-made essay not fit for sharing.
Not really a take on his poem (because his poem is not really about this...) but inspired by the poem's last two lines. It made me think what I'd rather be if given a choice. So here are my choices, think what would yours be.
I'd rather swim, than thread water. Eat than cook, read than type. I'd rather lie down than sit down. Talk rather than listen, hug rather than kiss, dance than sing, walk than run. I'd rather laugh than cry, or spend than save.
I'd rather see the mountains and the seas than hear the sound of the rustling trees and crashing waves. I'd rather travel by foot, without luxury, than miss all the sights and sounds all tourists fail to see.
I'd rather teach, and work for learning than be in a company and work for their profit.
I'd rather like, than lust after someone, smile rather than wink, touch rather than play hard to get, be pretty than sweaty, be unpredictable than boring, be difficult than easy, be a friend than be famous.
I'd rather be someone's love of life, than spend my life looking for my own. And I'd rather be me than living to just be.
----
This sucks. I cannot even read it to edit it. Well, here's ee cumming's poem. He's one of my favorites, and literally takes my breath away with a few simple, profound words that can pluck the strings of your soul.
you shall above all things be glad and young,
For if you're young,whatever life you wear
it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love
whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time
that you should ever think,may god forbid
and(in his mercy)your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
- ee cummings
Not really a take on his poem (because his poem is not really about this...) but inspired by the poem's last two lines. It made me think what I'd rather be if given a choice. So here are my choices, think what would yours be.
I'd rather swim, than thread water. Eat than cook, read than type. I'd rather lie down than sit down. Talk rather than listen, hug rather than kiss, dance than sing, walk than run. I'd rather laugh than cry, or spend than save.
I'd rather see the mountains and the seas than hear the sound of the rustling trees and crashing waves. I'd rather travel by foot, without luxury, than miss all the sights and sounds all tourists fail to see.
I'd rather teach, and work for learning than be in a company and work for their profit.
I'd rather like, than lust after someone, smile rather than wink, touch rather than play hard to get, be pretty than sweaty, be unpredictable than boring, be difficult than easy, be a friend than be famous.
I'd rather be someone's love of life, than spend my life looking for my own. And I'd rather be me than living to just be.
----
This sucks. I cannot even read it to edit it. Well, here's ee cumming's poem. He's one of my favorites, and literally takes my breath away with a few simple, profound words that can pluck the strings of your soul.
you shall above all things be glad and young,
For if you're young,whatever life you wear
it will become you;and if you are glad
whatever's living will yourself become.
Girlboys may nothing more than boygirls need:
i can entirely her only love
whose any mystery makes every man's
flesh put space on;and his mind take off time
that you should ever think,may god forbid
and(in his mercy)your true lover spare:
for that way knowledge lies,the foetal grave
called progress,and negation's dead undoom.
I'd rather learn from one bird how to sing
than teach ten thousand stars how not to dance
- ee cummings
Monday, November 29, 2004
The Northern Trip
"The true traveler is he who goes on foot, and even then, he sits down a lot of the time." - Colette, Paris from my Window, 1944
I have a mind to be poetic and eloquent about the whole weekend trip. Goodness knows we've been given plenty of reasons to be poetic about it. But I haven't the patience to write a lengthy entry detailing everything that I've seen, given that my body is still on vacation mode, thus lacking sense. So I'll keep the poetic details in my mind, and try to tell our journey up north, using my sleep-muddled brain.
We left Manila, giddy with excitement, full of Wendy's burgers from Espana Branch and armed with only a few bags (I only brought one pink bag, the size of Norm's pillow bag), at around 8:30 in the evening. After praying the rosary, Norms and I immediately drifted into sleep, much to Liza's chagrin. We stopped briefly in Tarlac, in La Union and in Laoag. Exactly 13 hours later, we arrived in Pagudpud, in a nearly deserted shed, with only two tricycles waiting for passengers. We boarded one and told the driver to take us to Saud beach.
looks like bora, except for the lack of nude people and the presence of those angry waves
After checking in and making arrangements for a day tour around Pagudpud, we immediately went to the beach and voila! It was Boracay minus the hundreds of nearly naked bodies doing mating rituals and the countless shops that littered the beachfront. Also, the presence of those big waves and the freezing water reminded us that this is a far more angry sea than the one in Visayas.
Packed with lunch and our cameras we hopped on a tricycle and the driver (also our guide) brought us to different sites in Pagudpud, the first of which is a falls that you can only see after a 30 min hike. Yes, me, hiking, in the woods. Pant, pant.
it's the long trek that made me appreciate this falls...
Rocky river, dirt paths and unimaginable things in the trees around us, and finally, we see the end of the river. Hah! I made it. Took very important picture as proof of me trekking, and we made our way back.
Then, trips to several sites. One was a rocky cliff that we have to climb across. But the breathtaking view is with the misty mountains in the background. Looks like a miniature New Zealand tourism pic, without the snowcapped mountains.
Can you feel the wind, hear the waves and taste that salty air?
Feeling hunger pangs, we decided to have lunch. Soggy fried chicken with ketchup and plain rice has never tasted this good. A few more pictures on the way and we went back to the resort.
Lunch near Cagayan...
The road to Cagayan from Pagudpud
The freezing waters combined with our weak legs and tired sleepy eyes, prevented us from going back to the beach. So we watched the sunset from our balcony. Hmmm, life at the province really makes you stop and think. No tv, no radio and nothing to distract you from feeling and living life itself. Being a city mouse all my life, I appreciate the simple life, but I have the bustling, vibrant city ingrained in my body cells, so I began to seriously crave for an internet connection and read my daily dose of Harry and Draco.
Alas, after dinner, I fell asleep and snored quite happily through the night. The earliest I've slept for years, I think. It was just a little before ten and our lights were off and all was quiet outside. (Note: Norms and Liza had an encounter with the 'unknown' and I'm so glad I wasn't a part of it, given that I'm such a huge coward at the mention of ghosts near my being)
The next day was like racing against the clock for we have to go catch the bus from Vigan at 3pm to Manila. (Thanks to Ayeen, who gave us all the tips and notes for this trip, we already know what time we have to leave and how much we have to pay) We left for Laoag at 8 and toured the city briefly from ten to eleven a.m. Then, we boarded the mini bus to Vigan, followed by another two hour trip. Our driver was exceptionally slow and seemingly want to take everyone who's standing by the road to his/her destination so it was almost a three hour trip for us. We arrived at Vigan at almost 2pm.
Disgruntled and unhappy that I'm not going to be back at Manila by midnight, I ate bagnet, igado and rice with gusto. But Liza and Norms giving me dirty looks disuaded me from leaving earlier than planned and we decided to leave by 4pm, I'll just have to accept that I'll be at my room by 1:30 am. We had hot chocolate afterwards, and then went out to the wet streets of Vigan. It was raining slightly and I have a list of pasalubong my sister wants me to buy.
sits down for a rest
getting ready for a pic...
Walking briskly and taking pictures along the way, we went to the Crisologo house. After walking through the old house, we boarded our fourth (or fifth?) tricycle to the Plaza to buy empanada and bibingka. Barely even have time for a breath, we found ourselves in the Partas bus terminal with the bus already getting ready to leave. Hmmm, one final stop at Marsha's for cassava cake and we slumped in our seats on our 9hr trip back home.
(I've had panic times, because it was raining on our way back and the bus is slooowly making the trip back to the city. I thought I couldn't make it back home at 1:30 am, but we did! Sleepy sleepy me, I just perked up a little when the bus picked up a group of surfers in La Union. Just a little. I couldn't help but grind my teeth at the thought of another delay...grrr...Eventually, Norms nudged me awake and before I knew it, I'm home.)
When we were in Pagudpud (around 560 kms away from Manila), I'm wishing for a laptop and an internet connection. Boarded in the bus to Manila, I wish we have a white-sand beach in Manila where I can have solitary moments once in a while. I breathed a sigh of relief when I entered my room, but I couldn't stop smiling at the adventure that was our trip up north in Ilocos.
Bora or Pagudpud? Don't make me choose. They each have their own charm and beauty and it will be so arrogant of me (or anyone else) to choose one above another. I'm just thankful I get to visit both.
Our next stop: Banawe? Palawan? Batanes? I know I'll be in Bohol with my family this coming weekend, and in Bicol to attend a wedding the next.
A very, very fine way to end the year indeed.
I have a mind to be poetic and eloquent about the whole weekend trip. Goodness knows we've been given plenty of reasons to be poetic about it. But I haven't the patience to write a lengthy entry detailing everything that I've seen, given that my body is still on vacation mode, thus lacking sense. So I'll keep the poetic details in my mind, and try to tell our journey up north, using my sleep-muddled brain.
We left Manila, giddy with excitement, full of Wendy's burgers from Espana Branch and armed with only a few bags (I only brought one pink bag, the size of Norm's pillow bag), at around 8:30 in the evening. After praying the rosary, Norms and I immediately drifted into sleep, much to Liza's chagrin. We stopped briefly in Tarlac, in La Union and in Laoag. Exactly 13 hours later, we arrived in Pagudpud, in a nearly deserted shed, with only two tricycles waiting for passengers. We boarded one and told the driver to take us to Saud beach.
looks like bora, except for the lack of nude people and the presence of those angry waves
After checking in and making arrangements for a day tour around Pagudpud, we immediately went to the beach and voila! It was Boracay minus the hundreds of nearly naked bodies doing mating rituals and the countless shops that littered the beachfront. Also, the presence of those big waves and the freezing water reminded us that this is a far more angry sea than the one in Visayas.
Packed with lunch and our cameras we hopped on a tricycle and the driver (also our guide) brought us to different sites in Pagudpud, the first of which is a falls that you can only see after a 30 min hike. Yes, me, hiking, in the woods. Pant, pant.
it's the long trek that made me appreciate this falls...
Rocky river, dirt paths and unimaginable things in the trees around us, and finally, we see the end of the river. Hah! I made it. Took very important picture as proof of me trekking, and we made our way back.
Then, trips to several sites. One was a rocky cliff that we have to climb across. But the breathtaking view is with the misty mountains in the background. Looks like a miniature New Zealand tourism pic, without the snowcapped mountains.
Can you feel the wind, hear the waves and taste that salty air?
Feeling hunger pangs, we decided to have lunch. Soggy fried chicken with ketchup and plain rice has never tasted this good. A few more pictures on the way and we went back to the resort.
Lunch near Cagayan...
The road to Cagayan from Pagudpud
The freezing waters combined with our weak legs and tired sleepy eyes, prevented us from going back to the beach. So we watched the sunset from our balcony. Hmmm, life at the province really makes you stop and think. No tv, no radio and nothing to distract you from feeling and living life itself. Being a city mouse all my life, I appreciate the simple life, but I have the bustling, vibrant city ingrained in my body cells, so I began to seriously crave for an internet connection and read my daily dose of Harry and Draco.
Alas, after dinner, I fell asleep and snored quite happily through the night. The earliest I've slept for years, I think. It was just a little before ten and our lights were off and all was quiet outside. (Note: Norms and Liza had an encounter with the 'unknown' and I'm so glad I wasn't a part of it, given that I'm such a huge coward at the mention of ghosts near my being)
The next day was like racing against the clock for we have to go catch the bus from Vigan at 3pm to Manila. (Thanks to Ayeen, who gave us all the tips and notes for this trip, we already know what time we have to leave and how much we have to pay) We left for Laoag at 8 and toured the city briefly from ten to eleven a.m. Then, we boarded the mini bus to Vigan, followed by another two hour trip. Our driver was exceptionally slow and seemingly want to take everyone who's standing by the road to his/her destination so it was almost a three hour trip for us. We arrived at Vigan at almost 2pm.
Disgruntled and unhappy that I'm not going to be back at Manila by midnight, I ate bagnet, igado and rice with gusto. But Liza and Norms giving me dirty looks disuaded me from leaving earlier than planned and we decided to leave by 4pm, I'll just have to accept that I'll be at my room by 1:30 am. We had hot chocolate afterwards, and then went out to the wet streets of Vigan. It was raining slightly and I have a list of pasalubong my sister wants me to buy.
sits down for a rest
getting ready for a pic...
Walking briskly and taking pictures along the way, we went to the Crisologo house. After walking through the old house, we boarded our fourth (or fifth?) tricycle to the Plaza to buy empanada and bibingka. Barely even have time for a breath, we found ourselves in the Partas bus terminal with the bus already getting ready to leave. Hmmm, one final stop at Marsha's for cassava cake and we slumped in our seats on our 9hr trip back home.
(I've had panic times, because it was raining on our way back and the bus is slooowly making the trip back to the city. I thought I couldn't make it back home at 1:30 am, but we did! Sleepy sleepy me, I just perked up a little when the bus picked up a group of surfers in La Union. Just a little. I couldn't help but grind my teeth at the thought of another delay...grrr...Eventually, Norms nudged me awake and before I knew it, I'm home.)
When we were in Pagudpud (around 560 kms away from Manila), I'm wishing for a laptop and an internet connection. Boarded in the bus to Manila, I wish we have a white-sand beach in Manila where I can have solitary moments once in a while. I breathed a sigh of relief when I entered my room, but I couldn't stop smiling at the adventure that was our trip up north in Ilocos.
Bora or Pagudpud? Don't make me choose. They each have their own charm and beauty and it will be so arrogant of me (or anyone else) to choose one above another. I'm just thankful I get to visit both.
Our next stop: Banawe? Palawan? Batanes? I know I'll be in Bohol with my family this coming weekend, and in Bicol to attend a wedding the next.
A very, very fine way to end the year indeed.
Tuesday, November 23, 2004
Family Pics
iya and a dishevelled me...
pretty pretty princess
Unashamedly displaying my pretty pretty niece for all to see...
Monday, November 22, 2004
Christmas Cheer
I won't ask for much this Christmas
I won't even wish for snow, and I
I just wanna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
...I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just wanna see my baby
Standing right outside my door
- Mariah Carey, All I Want For Christmas Is You
I'm beginning to hate Christmas and I don't like it. I don't want to be Mrs. Scrooge, and I don't want to really live up to the 'grumpy old maid' reputation.
But one more question or comment about me not being part of a couple or inane comments like 'malamig na naman yata ang pasko mo' and I won't be responsible for murder or causing serious bodily harm to someone.
Truthfully, I hope people can understand why we snarl everytime we are asked that question. Why wouldn't I? I am wishing, praying with all my heart that He would someday (sooner rather than later) use His divine powers to lead my Prince Charming to me.
I see couples everywhere. And yes, the weather is fit for romantic hugs and kisses. And the nights are longer and more conducive to cuddling and whispering sweet nothings under a flimsy blanket. But hey, not everyone has the same life. And I firmly believe that we (I'm trying to get everyone who's lonely this Christmas on my side, because misery loves company) are being punished enough by sickening sights of couples holding hands while walking without being interrogated by people worse than the Spanish Inquisitors.
But the thing is, it's me. It's my life, it's personal and I'm the one doing the waiting so I'm really pissed at being pitied than anything else. And I especially hate (I'm running out of words for HATE) people who are not even my friends (read: nosy, irritating relatives) asked me something really personal, and clucked their tongues when I answer in the negative. They never believed that I'm okay. They'll just give this blank stare but I can see the pity that goes with the clucking of the tongue. Tsk. Tsk. All alone again. And it's Christmas.
GAH!!!
I'm really not asking a lot this Christmas. I'm just praying for good health, just enough wealth to get by, and my True Love to finally come to me. But it's in His hands, not mine. I just tend to give Him and Fate a little push.
So, if someone asks me again why am I still single and alone this Christmas? You can take it up to Him.
I won't even wish for snow, and I
I just wanna keep on waiting
Underneath the mistletoe
...I don't want a lot for Christmas
This is all I'm asking for
I just wanna see my baby
Standing right outside my door
- Mariah Carey, All I Want For Christmas Is You
I'm beginning to hate Christmas and I don't like it. I don't want to be Mrs. Scrooge, and I don't want to really live up to the 'grumpy old maid' reputation.
But one more question or comment about me not being part of a couple or inane comments like 'malamig na naman yata ang pasko mo' and I won't be responsible for murder or causing serious bodily harm to someone.
Truthfully, I hope people can understand why we snarl everytime we are asked that question. Why wouldn't I? I am wishing, praying with all my heart that He would someday (sooner rather than later) use His divine powers to lead my Prince Charming to me.
I see couples everywhere. And yes, the weather is fit for romantic hugs and kisses. And the nights are longer and more conducive to cuddling and whispering sweet nothings under a flimsy blanket. But hey, not everyone has the same life. And I firmly believe that we (I'm trying to get everyone who's lonely this Christmas on my side, because misery loves company) are being punished enough by sickening sights of couples holding hands while walking without being interrogated by people worse than the Spanish Inquisitors.
But the thing is, it's me. It's my life, it's personal and I'm the one doing the waiting so I'm really pissed at being pitied than anything else. And I especially hate (I'm running out of words for HATE) people who are not even my friends (read: nosy, irritating relatives) asked me something really personal, and clucked their tongues when I answer in the negative. They never believed that I'm okay. They'll just give this blank stare but I can see the pity that goes with the clucking of the tongue. Tsk. Tsk. All alone again. And it's Christmas.
GAH!!!
I'm really not asking a lot this Christmas. I'm just praying for good health, just enough wealth to get by, and my True Love to finally come to me. But it's in His hands, not mine. I just tend to give Him and Fate a little push.
So, if someone asks me again why am I still single and alone this Christmas? You can take it up to Him.
Sunday, November 21, 2004
Just Like That
Sometimes when you hold out for everything, you walk out with nothing. - Ally McBeal
----------
It's nothing really. Just me going about my usual wanderings in the house during the day. Taking a nap, eating, reading h/d, surfing the net, watching tv, and amidst all these, I'll see something that will trigger it.
It was just an ordinary commercial on tv, and as usual it involves a family. And I felt a pang hit me in the chest. I struggled to snatched it out of my mind and after the commercial it was already gone, I was already back to my old self.
We were cruising along Roxas Blvd. and because it was a stop sign, we stopped briefly. I glanced at my left and I saw this couple holding hands while walking in the bay park and laughing. They were not a good looking couple, nor they seem to be a couple who has everything, but they looked happy...and in love.
There was that pang again.
It comes and goes. And I tried my damnest to have it take a back seat in my mind, for if it comes surfacing full time, I know I'll be bawling and asking the heavens 'why me?'
I like myself, I like my life. But sometimes, the feeling of something missing will be all too consuming and I'll be feeling so lonely, just like that. Some people don't know how much they have it good.
Sometimes I wonder if it will still happen to me...
----------
It's nothing really. Just me going about my usual wanderings in the house during the day. Taking a nap, eating, reading h/d, surfing the net, watching tv, and amidst all these, I'll see something that will trigger it.
It was just an ordinary commercial on tv, and as usual it involves a family. And I felt a pang hit me in the chest. I struggled to snatched it out of my mind and after the commercial it was already gone, I was already back to my old self.
We were cruising along Roxas Blvd. and because it was a stop sign, we stopped briefly. I glanced at my left and I saw this couple holding hands while walking in the bay park and laughing. They were not a good looking couple, nor they seem to be a couple who has everything, but they looked happy...and in love.
There was that pang again.
It comes and goes. And I tried my damnest to have it take a back seat in my mind, for if it comes surfacing full time, I know I'll be bawling and asking the heavens 'why me?'
I like myself, I like my life. But sometimes, the feeling of something missing will be all too consuming and I'll be feeling so lonely, just like that. Some people don't know how much they have it good.
Sometimes I wonder if it will still happen to me...
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
Determinants of Liking, Part 1
Meeting new people can lead me to more analytical thoughts. Of course, during our gimik last night, I was telling Rhea about the pillars of attraction or (since she's skeptical about it having scientific basis) I'll take it directly from the book and call it, The Determinants of Liking (sounds more scientific, eh?).
Had a great time last night. As usual, when meeting new people, I'm basically shy and quiet. Quite contrary to popular beliefs, I don't deal well with strangers (read: tactless remarks and nonsense babbling), although maybe because I really like dealing with people I think it often shows.
NOTE: Some of this entry I'll take directly from the book - "Introduction to Psychology" by Atkinson, et al.
The questions that often concern us most whenever we meet new people are whether or not they like us and we like them. Beyond the initial encounter, our major goals will be how to foster liking, attraction that will somehow lead to deeper friendship, or even, taking it another step further, intimacy and love. And I was really surprised that psychologists spend most of their time analyzing how to promote liking and interpersonal relationships. Really now. I wonder if psychologists have many friends and had found the great love of their lives.
Well, anyway, on to the determinants of liking.
PHYSICAL ATTRACTIVENESS
I'm not shallow. It's really the first determinant of liking.
To most of us, it is terribly unfair that a person's physical appearance is a determinant of how others will like him or her. Unlike character, niceness, and other personal qualities, we have little control on the matter (unless you're filthy rich and can afford numerous plastic surgery that will completely alter your physical appearance). Many people surveyed said they don't think physical appearance counts. Yeah right. Tell it to the marines. Who are you kidding people? If Bayani Agbayani and Piolo Pascual asked you for a date, who would you first agree to?
We have research to back that up. Actual behavior of people shows that they do value physical attractiveness. So why is physical attractiveness so important? Call this terribly, unequivocally unfair, but research shows that beautiful people are not only thought of to have more beautiful personalities, but there is evidence that they are ACTUALLY (in reality) nice people. Gah!
They said it's because people treat them beautifully (read: we worship beautiful people) and they react accordingly. How unfair can you get? They are gorgeous and nice too? But it is true. I believe it is true. That's why everyone's calling me nice. And kind. It just goes to show.
I've seen evidence of people who are not good looking (translation: looks terrible) who when you meet them, are conceited, overconfident, and more often than not, choose their mates based on looks, in other words, they are shallow. Probably because of their major lack thereof of said good looks. Hah! Now tell me that isn't true.
I can talk more about this, but anyway, I'll leave it up to you to research, if you're interested.
HOPE NOTE: When considering marriage, physical attractiveness appears to decline in importance. Hurray! An itsy bitsy ray of hope for mortals...
PROXIMITY
Bwahahaha! It's time to stalk your crush/ prospect. An examination of marriage licenses, college dormitories shows that the best single predictor of whether two people are friends or in a relationship is how far apart they live.
Okay. There goes one determinant for me. I am, in no uncertain terms, not interested in people who lives next door to me. See for yourself. They certainly, completely negate determinant of liking number one. So I'll scratch this out.
Moreover, the Atkinson has this to say about the matter:
Those who believe in miracles (take note: miracle) when it comes to matters of the heart may believe that there is a perfect mate chosen for each of us waiting to be discovered somewhere in the world. But if this is true, the far greater miracle is the frequency with which FATE conspires to place this person within walking distance.
IN A NUTSHELL: It's already a miracle if you marry someone from the other side of the world. (Yey, Sis, you are one of the few!) Or maybe not, this book didn't consider the latest technology available...
Stay tuned for Part 2. It gets more interesting, as they say that familiarity and similarity promotes liking. Yay! A vote of confidence to stalkers.
I think maybe it's time to listen to all of these...Hmmm...
Had a great time last night. As usual, when meeting new people, I'm basically shy and quiet. Quite contrary to popular beliefs, I don't deal well with strangers (read: tactless remarks and nonsense babbling), although maybe because I really like dealing with people I think it often shows.
NOTE: Some of this entry I'll take directly from the book - "Introduction to Psychology" by Atkinson, et al.
The questions that often concern us most whenever we meet new people are whether or not they like us and we like them. Beyond the initial encounter, our major goals will be how to foster liking, attraction that will somehow lead to deeper friendship, or even, taking it another step further, intimacy and love. And I was really surprised that psychologists spend most of their time analyzing how to promote liking and interpersonal relationships. Really now. I wonder if psychologists have many friends and had found the great love of their lives.
Well, anyway, on to the determinants of liking.
PHYSICAL ATTRACTIVENESS
I'm not shallow. It's really the first determinant of liking.
To most of us, it is terribly unfair that a person's physical appearance is a determinant of how others will like him or her. Unlike character, niceness, and other personal qualities, we have little control on the matter (unless you're filthy rich and can afford numerous plastic surgery that will completely alter your physical appearance). Many people surveyed said they don't think physical appearance counts. Yeah right. Tell it to the marines. Who are you kidding people? If Bayani Agbayani and Piolo Pascual asked you for a date, who would you first agree to?
We have research to back that up. Actual behavior of people shows that they do value physical attractiveness. So why is physical attractiveness so important? Call this terribly, unequivocally unfair, but research shows that beautiful people are not only thought of to have more beautiful personalities, but there is evidence that they are ACTUALLY (in reality) nice people. Gah!
They said it's because people treat them beautifully (read: we worship beautiful people) and they react accordingly. How unfair can you get? They are gorgeous and nice too? But it is true. I believe it is true. That's why everyone's calling me nice. And kind. It just goes to show.
I've seen evidence of people who are not good looking (translation: looks terrible) who when you meet them, are conceited, overconfident, and more often than not, choose their mates based on looks, in other words, they are shallow. Probably because of their major lack thereof of said good looks. Hah! Now tell me that isn't true.
I can talk more about this, but anyway, I'll leave it up to you to research, if you're interested.
HOPE NOTE: When considering marriage, physical attractiveness appears to decline in importance. Hurray! An itsy bitsy ray of hope for mortals...
PROXIMITY
Bwahahaha! It's time to stalk your crush/ prospect. An examination of marriage licenses, college dormitories shows that the best single predictor of whether two people are friends or in a relationship is how far apart they live.
Okay. There goes one determinant for me. I am, in no uncertain terms, not interested in people who lives next door to me. See for yourself. They certainly, completely negate determinant of liking number one. So I'll scratch this out.
Moreover, the Atkinson has this to say about the matter:
Those who believe in miracles (take note: miracle) when it comes to matters of the heart may believe that there is a perfect mate chosen for each of us waiting to be discovered somewhere in the world. But if this is true, the far greater miracle is the frequency with which FATE conspires to place this person within walking distance.
IN A NUTSHELL: It's already a miracle if you marry someone from the other side of the world. (Yey, Sis, you are one of the few!) Or maybe not, this book didn't consider the latest technology available...
Stay tuned for Part 2. It gets more interesting, as they say that familiarity and similarity promotes liking. Yay! A vote of confidence to stalkers.
I think maybe it's time to listen to all of these...Hmmm...
Tuesday, November 16, 2004
Perfect Shoes
I had a great time yesterday reading the latest articles from peyups.com. Those authors really crack me up. Some are really serious, and veritable mind openers, while others are just plain fun, with a great dose of common sense sprinkled all throughout the articles.
Just want to comment about the "All I Need To Learn, I Learned from Shoes" article. The author has been writing 'kikay' articles for a while but I'm amazed at the analogies she finds in tiny details of her life. Funny, but I think we all can relate.
Aside from the 'overused shoes', the 'maganda siya, pero masakit shoes' and the 'shoes that got away', I'll just add the 'shoe that really fits'.
The Shoe That Fits Perfectly
Go figure I'm writing something about a topic I have only seen and lived through in my dreams. I haven't yet found a perfect pair of shoes. The one pair that you looked all over for. Landmark shoe sale, Janeo, Rusty Lopez, CMG, all SM outlets, and what-have-yous. The one that you don't exactly know what type of design, what kind or even what color you wanted, but you're browsing along, hoping to find a pair that will fit perfectly with your lifestyle.
For me, that will have to be a pair of sandals, that can go semi-formal and casual. Jologs or sosyal, strong woman or feminine girl, it fits. I'm not sporty so it doesn't have to go there. Maybe a pair of black thongs sandals, comfortably fashionable. That's a perfect pair.
I can wear it on a date, whether it be movies or dinner with family on special occasions. It can go with a skirt, or jeans. It can bring me to the grocery store but wouldn't look out of place in Greenbelt on a Saturday night. It's reliable, trustworthy, comfortable and has more to it than meets the eye.
The one that aside from being overused, I take care of naturally, just because I don't take it for granted. Why should I when I looked all over for it? And it's my most loved pair of shoes. Surely one can see the proof of that love with the well-worn soles, and the permanent imprint of my foot on each sandal. My friends can also attest to that love, for they know that pair very well. They've seen during birthday parties, movie dates, or even during coffee meetings. I've also introduced it to my family. They see how I take care of it, or how it goes everywhere with me.
I don't have any lessons learned from this, as I haven't found the perfect pair. But I have lots of Hope. And prayers. And wishes from the heart. My hope is that as we girls try on different kinds, different pairs, we'll keep in mind that out there lies the perfect one. The perfect one for us. Like with shoes, as we get older, we already have an idea what kind we need and what will fit us perfectly.
My prayer goes two ways: That the one will soon come to me, and that I'll recognize him as such - like the shoe that fits me perfectly.
Just want to comment about the "All I Need To Learn, I Learned from Shoes" article. The author has been writing 'kikay' articles for a while but I'm amazed at the analogies she finds in tiny details of her life. Funny, but I think we all can relate.
Aside from the 'overused shoes', the 'maganda siya, pero masakit shoes' and the 'shoes that got away', I'll just add the 'shoe that really fits'.
The Shoe That Fits Perfectly
Go figure I'm writing something about a topic I have only seen and lived through in my dreams. I haven't yet found a perfect pair of shoes. The one pair that you looked all over for. Landmark shoe sale, Janeo, Rusty Lopez, CMG, all SM outlets, and what-have-yous. The one that you don't exactly know what type of design, what kind or even what color you wanted, but you're browsing along, hoping to find a pair that will fit perfectly with your lifestyle.
For me, that will have to be a pair of sandals, that can go semi-formal and casual. Jologs or sosyal, strong woman or feminine girl, it fits. I'm not sporty so it doesn't have to go there. Maybe a pair of black thongs sandals, comfortably fashionable. That's a perfect pair.
I can wear it on a date, whether it be movies or dinner with family on special occasions. It can go with a skirt, or jeans. It can bring me to the grocery store but wouldn't look out of place in Greenbelt on a Saturday night. It's reliable, trustworthy, comfortable and has more to it than meets the eye.
The one that aside from being overused, I take care of naturally, just because I don't take it for granted. Why should I when I looked all over for it? And it's my most loved pair of shoes. Surely one can see the proof of that love with the well-worn soles, and the permanent imprint of my foot on each sandal. My friends can also attest to that love, for they know that pair very well. They've seen during birthday parties, movie dates, or even during coffee meetings. I've also introduced it to my family. They see how I take care of it, or how it goes everywhere with me.
I don't have any lessons learned from this, as I haven't found the perfect pair. But I have lots of Hope. And prayers. And wishes from the heart. My hope is that as we girls try on different kinds, different pairs, we'll keep in mind that out there lies the perfect one. The perfect one for us. Like with shoes, as we get older, we already have an idea what kind we need and what will fit us perfectly.
My prayer goes two ways: That the one will soon come to me, and that I'll recognize him as such - like the shoe that fits me perfectly.
Monday, November 15, 2004
Hooking Up
Here's what I learned from watching Blind Date and Fifth Wheel. Some say I'm watching crap, but I'm more entertained than anything else.
1. Never reveal TOO much on your first date. Read: Don't tell your whole life story during dinner. Your ex-boyfriends, your family's pet dog or your friend's jerk boyfriend. For one, it isn't healthy to still be raving about your ex when you're in a date with someone new. Second, you're on your first date, and he isn't really interested to know about that overgrown dickhead your friend is dating. Now, the trick is how can I apply this in real life.
2. Be confident. I've seen less than attractive people, or overweight people gone up one or two notches up the sexiness scale just because they're confident. I guess the only way you can go wrong with confidence is if you have way over too much.
3. Be intelligent, witty. Or if you can't, just show off more skin. Well, let's face it. The world is filled with shallow people. I like attractive guys, but really, I'm more likely to hook up with someone who has something to say other than the latest gadgets and the latest song of his favorite band. Come on, there's more to life than your cellphone or latest gimik. (Hehe, There's watching crappy shows like Blind Date and Fifth Wheel.)
4. Be yourself. Or if you're really weird, please pretend to be somebody nice. Some people are better pretending to be someone else, than presenting their true colors. But hey, I'm just saying that you don't have to tell your date you really are a pervert in disguise.
5. It can't hurt to be rich, successful and attractive. If no one ever said this to you before, well, let me be the first one: Life really is unfair. People who are are rich, successful and attractive always do get the best of many worlds. Dating is easy if you are rich and attractive.
Hmm, what they don't show are the preparations involved before a date. It's not easy setting yourself up for rejection or judgment by people you don't know. What's more, you should anticipate any of three outcomes: the date from hell, the first-and-last date, and hope against hope that someday you'll find yourself in the first-date-of-many-dates-to-come.
Wait till my Thursday entry. I'll probably have something to add more to this.
1. Never reveal TOO much on your first date. Read: Don't tell your whole life story during dinner. Your ex-boyfriends, your family's pet dog or your friend's jerk boyfriend. For one, it isn't healthy to still be raving about your ex when you're in a date with someone new. Second, you're on your first date, and he isn't really interested to know about that overgrown dickhead your friend is dating. Now, the trick is how can I apply this in real life.
2. Be confident. I've seen less than attractive people, or overweight people gone up one or two notches up the sexiness scale just because they're confident. I guess the only way you can go wrong with confidence is if you have way over too much.
3. Be intelligent, witty. Or if you can't, just show off more skin. Well, let's face it. The world is filled with shallow people. I like attractive guys, but really, I'm more likely to hook up with someone who has something to say other than the latest gadgets and the latest song of his favorite band. Come on, there's more to life than your cellphone or latest gimik. (Hehe, There's watching crappy shows like Blind Date and Fifth Wheel.)
4. Be yourself. Or if you're really weird, please pretend to be somebody nice. Some people are better pretending to be someone else, than presenting their true colors. But hey, I'm just saying that you don't have to tell your date you really are a pervert in disguise.
5. It can't hurt to be rich, successful and attractive. If no one ever said this to you before, well, let me be the first one: Life really is unfair. People who are are rich, successful and attractive always do get the best of many worlds. Dating is easy if you are rich and attractive.
Hmm, what they don't show are the preparations involved before a date. It's not easy setting yourself up for rejection or judgment by people you don't know. What's more, you should anticipate any of three outcomes: the date from hell, the first-and-last date, and hope against hope that someday you'll find yourself in the first-date-of-many-dates-to-come.
Wait till my Thursday entry. I'll probably have something to add more to this.
Sunday, November 14, 2004
Cheap Thrills
view from the top
afternoon sun
I have two confessions to make.
I enjoyed being called an 'uptown girl' (Although I've only heard it from one person and he really doesn't know me well enough to realize I'm all jologs really.) But I like cheap thrills. I don't know if that's a negative phrase, or what, but I like finding joy and pleasure derived from free or even cheap things.
Like the one we had this weekend. It's a long weekend and therefore, I manhandled my family to come with Liza and I to Tagaytay, if only for a day. I want us to have a picnic and finally make use of our old picnic basket that we bought a long time ago that has never been to a picnic.
Armed only with the picnic basket, adobo, rice, fish, some snacks, and Scattergories and Taboo, I drove us to Picnic Grove. A lot of people littered the park and we couldn't find us a nice table with a view. Finally, we stumbled upon an empty hut, located at the top and with a clear view of the lake.
It was an afternoon of simple fun, leisurely talks and friendly atmosphere (as friendly as my family can get...hehe), as we played Scattergories (where I won twice, my sis three times and my mom a lot of times...Liza, well, she claimed she's still sleepy and not at her top form), and Taboo (my sis and mom won). I looked around me and I can see kids running around, parents enjoying themselves, and couples lounging and taking in the cool Tagaytay breeze. And I thought to myself, we can enjoy ourselves without spending 15 grand for Boracay, or Puerto Gallera, and with my family, no less.
A lot of people my age would scoff or cringe at the idea of a vacation with family. An ideal vacation is a trip to Boracay or Palawan with a group of friends. Liza and I planned to have a picnic with our classmates, but really, my family is more reliable than any of my classmates would ever be. What's more, with a group of friends, you have to get along splendidly or else you ruin everyone's vacation. You have to be what others think you are, or else, you become weird, and solitary and still ruining everyone's vacation. With family, you can be your own dastardly self and they'll still be family. You can't ruin their vacation, because they won't mind you whining, being loud or eating all of the food in one seating. They're family.
So yes, I enjoyed the time with my family.
It's as carefree, loud, and free as I could get. And that's what makes the difference.
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Babysitter or Nurse?
After my breakfast of condensed milk and pandesal (healthy no? hehehe), I plopped down on my sister's bed (they're fixing my room so I've been squatting on my sister's room for a while now) and turned on the TV.
I skipped MUB and tried watching Laurice Guillen talked about Santa Santita in Breakfast, but since Ryan Agoncillo was not there, my interest waned and I tried my other favorite channels. National Geographic? They're talking about reptiles. Ugh. CNN? Arafat's burial and Bush and Blair meeting again. ETC? Finally, I settled down on The Today Show and Katie was interviewing a mother of infant twins who's already 50!
Funny, because what caught my attention isn't the wonder of modern medical science but Katie mentioned that the woman married someone ten years her junior. The woman said, 'The first time, I married ten years my senior. Now, I married ten years younger. I can tell you women out there, I'm feeling better I've had in years!' A woman after my own heart!
Then, Katie said she cannot forget what Ivana Trump said, "I'd rather be a babysitter than a nurse." Well, in my situation I can say I'd rather be a teacher, than a caregiver. A caregiver may be a more practical (financially) choice since there are lots of opportunities out there, but well, I'll take the kid over the older men anytime.
I didn't realize I had a thing with younger men until Daniel Radcliffe starred in the first Potter movie. (Yes I know. He's just a kid! I can really give Michael Jackson a run for his money) I wasn't even aware that the boys I've taken a fancy to when I was younger were really...boys. Or, ones who look like they were just entering high school. I thought I like tall, lean and dark bad boys who smile at every girl that passes by and can charm the socks off an old lady, but no, I like the boyish type. (Gah! It's so out of character for me to like these type of boys, who probably have less personality than their measly muscles.)
The bad boys are perfect for a drama queen like me. I can rant, rave and gush about how bad, charming and complicated creatures they are. But after Eminem, Matt Damon, and especially Daniel Radcliffe, I cannot deny that I like younger men, or men who looks ten years younger. What's to rant about the nice looking, more often than not shy and quiet choir boy? Nothing. Blergh! (Except probably Eminem, no one can say Eminem looks like a church-going choir boy. That's why he's perfect! Tee hee.)
In spite of their seemingly zero personality, I really like these youthful looking boys. Though my knees still turn into jelly when I see the tall, lean, bad boy, goodlooking ones, I definitely acknowledged the fact that the sheep clothing does wonders for me. Bonus points if they sometimes turn into a wolf.
More often than not, these boyish types are not that tall. And I don't like short men. Especially Pinoy short men, who compensates for their height by acting high and mighty which unfortunately instead of raising their value, decreases it to the negative, fast! But 2 out of 5 of my former 'love interests' are short guys, not short (5'3 and below) but shorter (a little over 5'5 maybe). Of course the other 3 are tall, dark, lean and mean. Oh well, there's just something about tall lithe men, but that's for another entry. I'm already babbling nonsense as it is.
What I'm trying to say is that I may have prejudices about their height, personality and character, but still, I lean towards those choir boys. I can think of several reasons too. Maybe I like to be looked up to, be put up in a pedestal. Or maybe, when I turned 40 and I'm with a boyish man who looks 28, people will think I can still get me a younger man. Or maybe, just maybe, although I like for my man to be sexy, confident and charming, I'd also like him to sweet, and thoughtful and one who always looks up to me. Huh? I mentioned that before? Oh well, it's worth repeating anyway.
I therefore conclude that I like to be with someone who thinks the world of me, thinks I'm great, wonderful and smart, and not someone who thinks he's all of those things, and love bossing me around. (Can you imagine me with someone bossy? Nyarks! Note: Bossy is different from confident! I like confidence, but I'm already bossy so he's got to choose another personality trait.) Someone who will listen to what I have to say and not someone who will think that I'm a young, naive girl who hasn't lived one half of her life yet so cannot be really trusted to know much of anything at all. Well, I hope you get the picture.
If it's a toss between an older man or a younger man, you know what my answer would be.
Besides, although older men may know a lot, be more experienced, I still believe that enthusiasm and endurance count for more points. ;)
I skipped MUB and tried watching Laurice Guillen talked about Santa Santita in Breakfast, but since Ryan Agoncillo was not there, my interest waned and I tried my other favorite channels. National Geographic? They're talking about reptiles. Ugh. CNN? Arafat's burial and Bush and Blair meeting again. ETC? Finally, I settled down on The Today Show and Katie was interviewing a mother of infant twins who's already 50!
Funny, because what caught my attention isn't the wonder of modern medical science but Katie mentioned that the woman married someone ten years her junior. The woman said, 'The first time, I married ten years my senior. Now, I married ten years younger. I can tell you women out there, I'm feeling better I've had in years!' A woman after my own heart!
Then, Katie said she cannot forget what Ivana Trump said, "I'd rather be a babysitter than a nurse." Well, in my situation I can say I'd rather be a teacher, than a caregiver. A caregiver may be a more practical (financially) choice since there are lots of opportunities out there, but well, I'll take the kid over the older men anytime.
I didn't realize I had a thing with younger men until Daniel Radcliffe starred in the first Potter movie. (Yes I know. He's just a kid! I can really give Michael Jackson a run for his money) I wasn't even aware that the boys I've taken a fancy to when I was younger were really...boys. Or, ones who look like they were just entering high school. I thought I like tall, lean and dark bad boys who smile at every girl that passes by and can charm the socks off an old lady, but no, I like the boyish type. (Gah! It's so out of character for me to like these type of boys, who probably have less personality than their measly muscles.)
The bad boys are perfect for a drama queen like me. I can rant, rave and gush about how bad, charming and complicated creatures they are. But after Eminem, Matt Damon, and especially Daniel Radcliffe, I cannot deny that I like younger men, or men who looks ten years younger. What's to rant about the nice looking, more often than not shy and quiet choir boy? Nothing. Blergh! (Except probably Eminem, no one can say Eminem looks like a church-going choir boy. That's why he's perfect! Tee hee.)
In spite of their seemingly zero personality, I really like these youthful looking boys. Though my knees still turn into jelly when I see the tall, lean, bad boy, goodlooking ones, I definitely acknowledged the fact that the sheep clothing does wonders for me. Bonus points if they sometimes turn into a wolf.
More often than not, these boyish types are not that tall. And I don't like short men. Especially Pinoy short men, who compensates for their height by acting high and mighty which unfortunately instead of raising their value, decreases it to the negative, fast! But 2 out of 5 of my former 'love interests' are short guys, not short (5'3 and below) but shorter (a little over 5'5 maybe). Of course the other 3 are tall, dark, lean and mean. Oh well, there's just something about tall lithe men, but that's for another entry. I'm already babbling nonsense as it is.
What I'm trying to say is that I may have prejudices about their height, personality and character, but still, I lean towards those choir boys. I can think of several reasons too. Maybe I like to be looked up to, be put up in a pedestal. Or maybe, when I turned 40 and I'm with a boyish man who looks 28, people will think I can still get me a younger man. Or maybe, just maybe, although I like for my man to be sexy, confident and charming, I'd also like him to sweet, and thoughtful and one who always looks up to me. Huh? I mentioned that before? Oh well, it's worth repeating anyway.
I therefore conclude that I like to be with someone who thinks the world of me, thinks I'm great, wonderful and smart, and not someone who thinks he's all of those things, and love bossing me around. (Can you imagine me with someone bossy? Nyarks! Note: Bossy is different from confident! I like confidence, but I'm already bossy so he's got to choose another personality trait.) Someone who will listen to what I have to say and not someone who will think that I'm a young, naive girl who hasn't lived one half of her life yet so cannot be really trusted to know much of anything at all. Well, I hope you get the picture.
If it's a toss between an older man or a younger man, you know what my answer would be.
Besides, although older men may know a lot, be more experienced, I still believe that enthusiasm and endurance count for more points. ;)
Tuesday, November 9, 2004
Settling Down
settling 1. to place so as to stay 2. to establish in residence 3. to arrange in a desired position 4 : to make or arrange for final disposition of.
down 1. toward or in a lower physical position 2. in a direction that is the opposite of up 3. to a lesser degree, level, or rate 4. to or in a lower or worse condition or status 5. into defeat
* source: Merriam-Webster
Given these above-mentioned definitions, I don't know why everyone is in a hurry to settle down. To arrange oneself in a desired position that is a lower or worse condition or status, or at the very least, into defeat. My goodness, no wonder my mother never used the phrase, 'it's time for you to settle down.' She never encouraged me 'settling down'. She used 'falling in love', and even 'marry the one who loves you more' kind of crap, but I agree with all of those, so I was grateful I was never brought up to think I have to settle down at age 25 or else. In fact, I was brought out to find someone who 'will improve my race, improve my life, and will be best fit to take care of me.' Well, I think every parent wants someone who will take over taking care of their children. And of course, every mother wants good looking grand children.
Settling down seems to be on everyone's mind these days. Me, I'll chalk up my desperate mating rituals to biological clock and not some hiddenmost desire to 'settle down' with somebody. If anything, I'm crossing my fingers, hoping against hope and praying on my knees that I will eventually 'settle up' with somebody. Now that is one desired position, and cannot be read as defeat. Gah! Am I sounding like a bitter old maid who's whining and sour graping about her position? Yes, probably, but there is clearly more to it than that.
They said I'm too picky with men. Oh really. I think it's just that we have poor choices. Or that men don't really choose me. Men aren't exactly lining up on my doorstep. I have several theories about that. One, my doorstep is not really geographically desirable to most. And those geographically desirable to me, I have no interest in, thank you very much. Two, I have a strong personality. Too strong for Filipino men but too conservative for bad boys. I struggled with the fact that guys seem to like girls who constantly reply with 'ikaw ang bahala. Kahit saan mo gusto, okay lang.' to the question 'where you wanna eat?'. And three, Filipino men has a strong liking to model-like mestisa girls, or chinitas with pale, pale complexion and not an ounce overweight. And I failed in all their requirements.
I thought of that. But the thing is, I looked at the men here and I thought, well, they have standards, and we should have one too. I for one, also like boyish, youthful looking men, (translation: those who look ten years younger, or who really is ten years younger! hahaha), tall and lean (which basically scrap half of the Pinoy men population) and sexy and smart and knows how to converse other than talk about the latest basketball game or the latest fad gadget available (which boils down to minuscule number of men, who are either married or gay).
I hate our society's double standards. If you're an overweight old maid, who lives far and away, people tell you not to be choosy and to lower your standards, because you badly need to 'settle down' and guys are scarce enough as it is. But if you're a bachelor, who's really not scoring any points in the looks department, (and probably even in the brain and personality department as well), you can take your time choosing the mestisa, model that you really want. Even the intelligent, pretty, strong-willed women of our society who's getting the 'old maid' talk is going bonkers after losers who don't deserve to have one smart and pretty girl holding onto his arm, let alone two (I'm absolutely horrified and miffed at the fact that the ugly, bad and short guys have girls panting after them. They are even the ones two-timing on their respective girlfriends, or who have a long list of exes! What is our society coming to!) If I'm going to go gaga over someone, let it be with someone who looks like a Hollywood star, or Eminem look alike, or even Daniel Radcliffe. And by gaga, I mean let go of all I said I wouldn't do in a relationship.
Ah, I'm just probably a bitter old maid whining about her situation of not having any suitors or even prospects to speak of. I'm probably just lamenting about the fact that I'm attending weddings left and right and I have no one in mind to look forward getting married to. Or I'm just really bitchy about the fact that people are allowing the ugly, absolutely no pleasing personality, short men of our society to infidelity and gorgeous women, but is telling beautiful, sexy, and smart women like me that time is running out and I already need to settle down. And by settle down, I mean to find a man in a lesser degree, level or rate. Grr!!!
Even I was convinced that I need to 'settle down'. I tell friends to set me up with anybody who's single, kahit ano hitsura. I tell them, beggars can't be choosers and I already am desperate. And my friends thinking I'm serious, will set me up with guys. I thought I was serious. Hindi rin pala. I was not that desperate. I still have high hopes for myself and I'm still unwilling to settle down. Even if I am an old maid.
Okay, so I'll make a mental note to self.
I'm hoping and praying that I will settle up someday. To fall in wholeheartedly in love with a man I admire, I lust after, and I really really like to be with. He has to be beautiful, even if only to me. Kahit ako lang ang tingin na gwapo siya, basta gwapo ang tingin ko sa kanya. Somebody who I will be proud to arranged a final disposition of being married to, but not conceding to defeat. Somebody I will look forward having millions of conversations with throughout our lifetime. I don't want to have no choice, like I am really desperate and I really am a beggar who didn't get to choose.
But...
If I eat all my words, and I do 'settle down', then you can go ahead and call me a desperate old maid.
down 1. toward or in a lower physical position 2. in a direction that is the opposite of up 3. to a lesser degree, level, or rate 4. to or in a lower or worse condition or status 5. into defeat
* source: Merriam-Webster
Given these above-mentioned definitions, I don't know why everyone is in a hurry to settle down. To arrange oneself in a desired position that is a lower or worse condition or status, or at the very least, into defeat. My goodness, no wonder my mother never used the phrase, 'it's time for you to settle down.' She never encouraged me 'settling down'. She used 'falling in love', and even 'marry the one who loves you more' kind of crap, but I agree with all of those, so I was grateful I was never brought up to think I have to settle down at age 25 or else. In fact, I was brought out to find someone who 'will improve my race, improve my life, and will be best fit to take care of me.' Well, I think every parent wants someone who will take over taking care of their children. And of course, every mother wants good looking grand children.
Settling down seems to be on everyone's mind these days. Me, I'll chalk up my desperate mating rituals to biological clock and not some hiddenmost desire to 'settle down' with somebody. If anything, I'm crossing my fingers, hoping against hope and praying on my knees that I will eventually 'settle up' with somebody. Now that is one desired position, and cannot be read as defeat. Gah! Am I sounding like a bitter old maid who's whining and sour graping about her position? Yes, probably, but there is clearly more to it than that.
They said I'm too picky with men. Oh really. I think it's just that we have poor choices. Or that men don't really choose me. Men aren't exactly lining up on my doorstep. I have several theories about that. One, my doorstep is not really geographically desirable to most. And those geographically desirable to me, I have no interest in, thank you very much. Two, I have a strong personality. Too strong for Filipino men but too conservative for bad boys. I struggled with the fact that guys seem to like girls who constantly reply with 'ikaw ang bahala. Kahit saan mo gusto, okay lang.' to the question 'where you wanna eat?'. And three, Filipino men has a strong liking to model-like mestisa girls, or chinitas with pale, pale complexion and not an ounce overweight. And I failed in all their requirements.
I thought of that. But the thing is, I looked at the men here and I thought, well, they have standards, and we should have one too. I for one, also like boyish, youthful looking men, (translation: those who look ten years younger, or who really is ten years younger! hahaha), tall and lean (which basically scrap half of the Pinoy men population) and sexy and smart and knows how to converse other than talk about the latest basketball game or the latest fad gadget available (which boils down to minuscule number of men, who are either married or gay).
I hate our society's double standards. If you're an overweight old maid, who lives far and away, people tell you not to be choosy and to lower your standards, because you badly need to 'settle down' and guys are scarce enough as it is. But if you're a bachelor, who's really not scoring any points in the looks department, (and probably even in the brain and personality department as well), you can take your time choosing the mestisa, model that you really want. Even the intelligent, pretty, strong-willed women of our society who's getting the 'old maid' talk is going bonkers after losers who don't deserve to have one smart and pretty girl holding onto his arm, let alone two (I'm absolutely horrified and miffed at the fact that the ugly, bad and short guys have girls panting after them. They are even the ones two-timing on their respective girlfriends, or who have a long list of exes! What is our society coming to!) If I'm going to go gaga over someone, let it be with someone who looks like a Hollywood star, or Eminem look alike, or even Daniel Radcliffe. And by gaga, I mean let go of all I said I wouldn't do in a relationship.
Ah, I'm just probably a bitter old maid whining about her situation of not having any suitors or even prospects to speak of. I'm probably just lamenting about the fact that I'm attending weddings left and right and I have no one in mind to look forward getting married to. Or I'm just really bitchy about the fact that people are allowing the ugly, absolutely no pleasing personality, short men of our society to infidelity and gorgeous women, but is telling beautiful, sexy, and smart women like me that time is running out and I already need to settle down. And by settle down, I mean to find a man in a lesser degree, level or rate. Grr!!!
Even I was convinced that I need to 'settle down'. I tell friends to set me up with anybody who's single, kahit ano hitsura. I tell them, beggars can't be choosers and I already am desperate. And my friends thinking I'm serious, will set me up with guys. I thought I was serious. Hindi rin pala. I was not that desperate. I still have high hopes for myself and I'm still unwilling to settle down. Even if I am an old maid.
Okay, so I'll make a mental note to self.
I'm hoping and praying that I will settle up someday. To fall in wholeheartedly in love with a man I admire, I lust after, and I really really like to be with. He has to be beautiful, even if only to me. Kahit ako lang ang tingin na gwapo siya, basta gwapo ang tingin ko sa kanya. Somebody who I will be proud to arranged a final disposition of being married to, but not conceding to defeat. Somebody I will look forward having millions of conversations with throughout our lifetime. I don't want to have no choice, like I am really desperate and I really am a beggar who didn't get to choose.
But...
If I eat all my words, and I do 'settle down', then you can go ahead and call me a desperate old maid.
Sunday, November 7, 2004
Blah Blah
Why am I talking about Love?
Or relationships for that matter? I'm in no position, nor am I an authority on this since I cannot boast of any successful, long term relationship of my own. But this has been brought upon by a friend who's confused and another friend with a very different view from mine. I know where they are coming from, but knowing and understanding are two different things.
I took the time out from playing Zoo Tycoon in my PC to write this blog. All my free time the last two days have been solely devoted to playing. I am obssessed with it. I even had a dream about putting up different fences for my cages, or adopting a more popular animal than the male olaki. Even during mass, when the singing has become too slow, or during offertory when they are not singing my favorite offertory song (Bukas Palad), my mind will wander to my Siberian tiger, my cheetah and my favorite Giant Panda. Why am I telling you this? This nonsensical, unimportant and current obssession of mine? Well, because I was thinking maybe this is the same way my friend is obssessed with her guy. (Yes, she will be flattered to death that I finally had an inkling of her obssession and comparing her supposedly committed-elsewhere Prince Charming to an African warthog.)
Anyway, what I wanted to point out is that I have no idea on how she really feels about the guy. From the outside, it just seem so wrong, so illogical, and so stupid to still be hanging on. But we don't have any clue on what's going on inside. So I told her she decide. The thing is, I wanted to tell her that if she decides to stay, then she waived all rights and privileges to whine and complain about her hopeless situation. I want to tell her, but of course friendship has no ifs and buts, only about support. And I'm willing to give mine.
I may not know about relationships, lust, boy-girl love, or even the Hopelessly In Love, but I do know what I HOPED True Love is. It's there. What I already wrote about. It'll set you free. It'll give you wings so that you can fly. And it won't make you compromise your beliefs, principles in life. In other words, it's falling in love without losing yourself. What's more, it'll help you be the best you can be.
Now, where was I? Ah, okay...I'm about to adopt an arctic wolf. Tee hee.
Or relationships for that matter? I'm in no position, nor am I an authority on this since I cannot boast of any successful, long term relationship of my own. But this has been brought upon by a friend who's confused and another friend with a very different view from mine. I know where they are coming from, but knowing and understanding are two different things.
I took the time out from playing Zoo Tycoon in my PC to write this blog. All my free time the last two days have been solely devoted to playing. I am obssessed with it. I even had a dream about putting up different fences for my cages, or adopting a more popular animal than the male olaki. Even during mass, when the singing has become too slow, or during offertory when they are not singing my favorite offertory song (Bukas Palad), my mind will wander to my Siberian tiger, my cheetah and my favorite Giant Panda. Why am I telling you this? This nonsensical, unimportant and current obssession of mine? Well, because I was thinking maybe this is the same way my friend is obssessed with her guy. (Yes, she will be flattered to death that I finally had an inkling of her obssession and comparing her supposedly committed-elsewhere Prince Charming to an African warthog.)
Anyway, what I wanted to point out is that I have no idea on how she really feels about the guy. From the outside, it just seem so wrong, so illogical, and so stupid to still be hanging on. But we don't have any clue on what's going on inside. So I told her she decide. The thing is, I wanted to tell her that if she decides to stay, then she waived all rights and privileges to whine and complain about her hopeless situation. I want to tell her, but of course friendship has no ifs and buts, only about support. And I'm willing to give mine.
I may not know about relationships, lust, boy-girl love, or even the Hopelessly In Love, but I do know what I HOPED True Love is. It's there. What I already wrote about. It'll set you free. It'll give you wings so that you can fly. And it won't make you compromise your beliefs, principles in life. In other words, it's falling in love without losing yourself. What's more, it'll help you be the best you can be.
Now, where was I? Ah, okay...I'm about to adopt an arctic wolf. Tee hee.
Thursday, November 4, 2004
Coffee Conversation
Another Point of View
(a blog entry in Coffee Klatch)
Cafe Breton, Ma. Orosa, Malate, Manila....
In a tiny corner table on the second floor, there sat three ladies, sipping coffee. One seemingly shy and quiet, one looking confused and frustrated, and the most gorgeous one, eating her Tarzan with Hungarian sausage slices, talking loudly with much rolling of the eyes....
"Hirap 'to e. I really want to get out of this relationship. As in. Gusto ko talaga. But I can't." Rhea said, biting her lower lips in frustration.
"Pero cycle kasi yan, Rhea girl. Vicious cycle. You'll go back to him, he'll still have the other girl, and you'll feel stupid, and leave. He'll want you back and court you. And it goes on and on. Until someone decides to let go, nothing will change." Leonor said, in a rare moment of speaking up (and not caught between waking and sleeping which is her usual late night look) during a coffee conversation between the three of them.
Laney pursed her lips, flipping her hair, suddenly looking as if thinking before saying anything. "Well, I believe you don't want it enough. If you really want it, you'll go ahead and do it, leave the relationship. Since you're still there, you want to be in the relationship more than you want to be out of it. If there's a will, there's a way. Cliche, but true. If you really want to, you'll find a way. Just like if he really wants to be with you, and only with you, he'll find a way to keep you, and not keep both of you." She said in between bites of her Tarzan, "You know what I mean?"
"But Laney, love isn't logical. We may want one thing and do another. Nagmamahal e, wala tayong magagawa diyan." Leonor chided.
"Ha? Lagi na lang bang reason ang ma inlove? Hmm, you're just saying that, because for you, love justifies everything." *rolling of eyes* said Laney.
"Nagawa ko lang naman ang lahat dahil nagmamahal ako ng todo. Ganon talaga ako pag nagmahal e, lahat lahat ibibigay ko. Masama bang magmahal? Mali ba yon? Kaya nga on one hand, I understand Rhea, and how hard it is, kahit na gusto ko rin sana happy sila. Kung ako rin kasi, baka di rin ako maka let go." Leonor said quietly, looking down on her coffee cup, which she is holding with both hands, looking for like Nora Aunor did when asked to defend her actions in court.
A big laughter from Laney."Taas na kamay ko sa yo. Wala na akong masabi. Cge, basta ma in love, pwedeng gawin lahat. Pumatay, magpakamatay at saka kalimutan ang sarili. Hello! Pwede bang magpaka Psycho or Fatal attraction for love? Girls, I may not be one to talk about this, since kayo ang mga mas may experience getting into serious relationships, but I also have been a fool more times than I can count myself. So I know that if you love like that, leaving nothing for yourself, in the end, you'll have nothing to give, and lahat na ng naibigay mo? Hinding hindi magiging enough. Tingin ko kasi, pag kinalimutan mo ang sarili mo, and ibigay mo lahat, pati sya, ang taong mahal mo, kakalimutan ka din nya. He'll also take you for granted. Ikaw nga sarili mo, you took yourself for granted, siya pa kaya." She paused for dramatic effect, taking a big bite of her sausage again.
"You know what else will happened? It'll consume you, that kind of love. Maiinis ka sa kanya kasi bakit siya, di ka nya mahal ng tulad ng love mo sa kanya, na parang tanga rin siya sa yo dapat, na lahat lahat bigay din nya sa yo? You'll wonder why not and then feel frustrated, and you'll start to hate yourself and hate him. Then bam! Love, which is supposed to be good and beautiful, became bad and negative.After everything, you'll find yourself asking the heavens above, "Ano pa ba ang kailangan kong gawin? Binigay ko na lahat lahat, bakit kulang pa?" Of course! Kulang, kasi ang kulang dun, di natin minahal sarili natin."
Rhea kept quiet throughout this whole tirade. One can see the battle raging on within her. She's a smart person, but also a girl in love. She's in a battle only she can get out of. But of course, the more obvious battle is between the hopeless romantic and the cynic.
"Ah basta. Ako pag nagmahal, bigay lahat. Kung may mali dun, ang mali ko lang, nagmahal ako ng buong pagkatao ko. It's not a crime. Ganon lang talaga ako." Leonor said, in that quiet, shy voice of hers, but this time, with finality, and no one can convince her otherwise.
"Ikaw yan. Iba iba tayo. Ako, minsan ganyan din. Sana lang, makinig ako lagi sa mga sinasabi ko, kaya ko nga sinusulat sa blog ko e. So I know if I'm about to eat my own words." Laney said, finishing her Tarzan, looking for all the world she's having a conversation about the weather and not about the Great Romantic Love.
"Kaya nga, iba iba tayo. Basta ako, no regrets kasi nga, naibigay ko na lahat. Ganyan ako magmahal." Again, in that final quiet voice of hers, putting her coffee cup down, as if for further emphasis.
Rhea looked at Laney, smiling, but not saying anything. She is acting like Leonor, but thinking like Laney, which as far as she can see will forever be in conflict. Laney seems thinking of what to say next, which is far more dangerous than when she just blurts out whatever comes to mind. It means, she's thinking of how to say what's on her mind, with more effective results.
"Hmm, ganyan ka nga Leonor. Wag ka sana magagalit ha? (An obvious attempt at diplomacy...which is often out of place and it also often fails...) Ang tanong, nag-work ba ang magmahal ng todo? Pag nagmahal ka ba ng todo at binigay mo lahat, nagmakaawa ka, e magiging devoted din sa yo ang taong mahal mo? Di ba hindi? Di ba kulang pa rin? Di ba pagkatapos ng lahat, wala rin natira para sa sarili mo? Ano na gagawin mo pagkatapos?" Laney said questioningly, trying to be calm and quiet, in that counseling voice of hers. Like what was said before, more dangerous than when she's ranting or raving on and on about something.
Leonor looked hurt, and teary eyed, remembering what happened to her One Great Love but lifted her chin, with her lower lip trembling, "Basta, hinding hindi kahit kelan mali ang magmahal. Walang mali, pag nagmamahal. Yon na."
Rhea sighed. Another long conversation about her, but really, the story of everyone else.
"Okay, since this is my entry, I'll have the final say...
Believe it or not, I also love the notion of falling hopelessly, helplessly and completely in love. I'm a drama queen, of course, I would like to be a hopeless romantic. But I've been hurt and I've prayed and prayed for wisdom. And He's telling me love, the romantic kind, is not something that will complete us. It's not some devious emotion that takes away everything that He meant you to be. He created us and He wants us to love being ourselves. If you give everything away, in the name of love, you let Love take away everything that He meant you to have. You let Love be something ugly and negative and be the enemy because it's eating you inside and out. But it's supposed to be nourishing, enriching and it should let you be the best that you can be, not be the worst. In the end, when you have nothing and nowhere to go but to Him, you'll realize that you should have loved yourself first, and that the man will come that will inspire you to be everything that you want to be, not someone you barely recognize as yourself. That's what you'll realize."
And sometimes, Leonor and Rhea wondered why despite being a drama queen, she makes a lot of sense.
(a blog entry in Coffee Klatch)
Cafe Breton, Ma. Orosa, Malate, Manila....
In a tiny corner table on the second floor, there sat three ladies, sipping coffee. One seemingly shy and quiet, one looking confused and frustrated, and the most gorgeous one, eating her Tarzan with Hungarian sausage slices, talking loudly with much rolling of the eyes....
"Hirap 'to e. I really want to get out of this relationship. As in. Gusto ko talaga. But I can't." Rhea said, biting her lower lips in frustration.
"Pero cycle kasi yan, Rhea girl. Vicious cycle. You'll go back to him, he'll still have the other girl, and you'll feel stupid, and leave. He'll want you back and court you. And it goes on and on. Until someone decides to let go, nothing will change." Leonor said, in a rare moment of speaking up (and not caught between waking and sleeping which is her usual late night look) during a coffee conversation between the three of them.
Laney pursed her lips, flipping her hair, suddenly looking as if thinking before saying anything. "Well, I believe you don't want it enough. If you really want it, you'll go ahead and do it, leave the relationship. Since you're still there, you want to be in the relationship more than you want to be out of it. If there's a will, there's a way. Cliche, but true. If you really want to, you'll find a way. Just like if he really wants to be with you, and only with you, he'll find a way to keep you, and not keep both of you." She said in between bites of her Tarzan, "You know what I mean?"
"But Laney, love isn't logical. We may want one thing and do another. Nagmamahal e, wala tayong magagawa diyan." Leonor chided.
"Ha? Lagi na lang bang reason ang ma inlove? Hmm, you're just saying that, because for you, love justifies everything." *rolling of eyes* said Laney.
"Nagawa ko lang naman ang lahat dahil nagmamahal ako ng todo. Ganon talaga ako pag nagmahal e, lahat lahat ibibigay ko. Masama bang magmahal? Mali ba yon? Kaya nga on one hand, I understand Rhea, and how hard it is, kahit na gusto ko rin sana happy sila. Kung ako rin kasi, baka di rin ako maka let go." Leonor said quietly, looking down on her coffee cup, which she is holding with both hands, looking for like Nora Aunor did when asked to defend her actions in court.
A big laughter from Laney."Taas na kamay ko sa yo. Wala na akong masabi. Cge, basta ma in love, pwedeng gawin lahat. Pumatay, magpakamatay at saka kalimutan ang sarili. Hello! Pwede bang magpaka Psycho or Fatal attraction for love? Girls, I may not be one to talk about this, since kayo ang mga mas may experience getting into serious relationships, but I also have been a fool more times than I can count myself. So I know that if you love like that, leaving nothing for yourself, in the end, you'll have nothing to give, and lahat na ng naibigay mo? Hinding hindi magiging enough. Tingin ko kasi, pag kinalimutan mo ang sarili mo, and ibigay mo lahat, pati sya, ang taong mahal mo, kakalimutan ka din nya. He'll also take you for granted. Ikaw nga sarili mo, you took yourself for granted, siya pa kaya." She paused for dramatic effect, taking a big bite of her sausage again.
"You know what else will happened? It'll consume you, that kind of love. Maiinis ka sa kanya kasi bakit siya, di ka nya mahal ng tulad ng love mo sa kanya, na parang tanga rin siya sa yo dapat, na lahat lahat bigay din nya sa yo? You'll wonder why not and then feel frustrated, and you'll start to hate yourself and hate him. Then bam! Love, which is supposed to be good and beautiful, became bad and negative.After everything, you'll find yourself asking the heavens above, "Ano pa ba ang kailangan kong gawin? Binigay ko na lahat lahat, bakit kulang pa?" Of course! Kulang, kasi ang kulang dun, di natin minahal sarili natin."
Rhea kept quiet throughout this whole tirade. One can see the battle raging on within her. She's a smart person, but also a girl in love. She's in a battle only she can get out of. But of course, the more obvious battle is between the hopeless romantic and the cynic.
"Ah basta. Ako pag nagmahal, bigay lahat. Kung may mali dun, ang mali ko lang, nagmahal ako ng buong pagkatao ko. It's not a crime. Ganon lang talaga ako." Leonor said, in that quiet, shy voice of hers, but this time, with finality, and no one can convince her otherwise.
"Ikaw yan. Iba iba tayo. Ako, minsan ganyan din. Sana lang, makinig ako lagi sa mga sinasabi ko, kaya ko nga sinusulat sa blog ko e. So I know if I'm about to eat my own words." Laney said, finishing her Tarzan, looking for all the world she's having a conversation about the weather and not about the Great Romantic Love.
"Kaya nga, iba iba tayo. Basta ako, no regrets kasi nga, naibigay ko na lahat. Ganyan ako magmahal." Again, in that final quiet voice of hers, putting her coffee cup down, as if for further emphasis.
Rhea looked at Laney, smiling, but not saying anything. She is acting like Leonor, but thinking like Laney, which as far as she can see will forever be in conflict. Laney seems thinking of what to say next, which is far more dangerous than when she just blurts out whatever comes to mind. It means, she's thinking of how to say what's on her mind, with more effective results.
"Hmm, ganyan ka nga Leonor. Wag ka sana magagalit ha? (An obvious attempt at diplomacy...which is often out of place and it also often fails...) Ang tanong, nag-work ba ang magmahal ng todo? Pag nagmahal ka ba ng todo at binigay mo lahat, nagmakaawa ka, e magiging devoted din sa yo ang taong mahal mo? Di ba hindi? Di ba kulang pa rin? Di ba pagkatapos ng lahat, wala rin natira para sa sarili mo? Ano na gagawin mo pagkatapos?" Laney said questioningly, trying to be calm and quiet, in that counseling voice of hers. Like what was said before, more dangerous than when she's ranting or raving on and on about something.
Leonor looked hurt, and teary eyed, remembering what happened to her One Great Love but lifted her chin, with her lower lip trembling, "Basta, hinding hindi kahit kelan mali ang magmahal. Walang mali, pag nagmamahal. Yon na."
Rhea sighed. Another long conversation about her, but really, the story of everyone else.
"Okay, since this is my entry, I'll have the final say...
Believe it or not, I also love the notion of falling hopelessly, helplessly and completely in love. I'm a drama queen, of course, I would like to be a hopeless romantic. But I've been hurt and I've prayed and prayed for wisdom. And He's telling me love, the romantic kind, is not something that will complete us. It's not some devious emotion that takes away everything that He meant you to be. He created us and He wants us to love being ourselves. If you give everything away, in the name of love, you let Love take away everything that He meant you to have. You let Love be something ugly and negative and be the enemy because it's eating you inside and out. But it's supposed to be nourishing, enriching and it should let you be the best that you can be, not be the worst. In the end, when you have nothing and nowhere to go but to Him, you'll realize that you should have loved yourself first, and that the man will come that will inspire you to be everything that you want to be, not someone you barely recognize as yourself. That's what you'll realize."
And sometimes, Leonor and Rhea wondered why despite being a drama queen, she makes a lot of sense.
True Love
You can't ever be really free if you admire somebody too much.
Tove Jansson, Tales from Moominvalley
------
True love.
Everyone talks about love. Everyone wants to be loved and be in love, whether they admit it or not. I, the one in love with the notion of love, often writes and talks about love. All its whys and wherefores. In another one of those days, my girlfriends and I are caught up again in our talks about love, the casual ones and that true one.
I will strive to write my thoughts down and still create some semblance of reason despite the topic of love.
Last night, before I finally closed my eyes to sleep, I wondered briefly if I already became too cynical for love. I had dreams of a fairy tale kind of love, where my gallant Prince will sweep me off my feet, and we will fall perfectly in love. There'll be no problems because we'll be so in love, absorbed in each other to care much for reality. But of course, reality bites. And it bites hard. Fairy tales don't exist. Or they do, but they leave the bad parts out when they are telling it. They leave out the fact that not all loves ends in a romantic kiss and everyone will swoon while the two of you gallop and wave and disappear into the horizon to live happily ever after.
For me, it all started with my Chocolate Love Story. Everybody calls him my True Love. Like every young love, we started out as friends. Of course I blotched it all up by being a naive, hopelessly romantic girl who thought that if she does everything she can (note: be a certified stalker) to win his love, he's going to love her back. I was wrong. I thought there were all these signs that tells me we're made for each other. Yeah right.
It took me years to finally realize that accidentally seeing that we're wearing the same shirt at the same doesn't mean that we're destined to be together. That him working for a company in the same street as where I'm working for doesn't mean fate put us together again. And the two of us still single, and unattached again, after all these years, doesn't really mean we are the one for each other, but only that I'm picky and he's probably gay.
In a nutshell, I learned not to take 'signs' seriously, because when a person is in love, like I was before, we give ourselves our own made-up 'signs'. We ended up fooling ourselves. We have a distorted view of our situation and we are not a good judge of whether it is true love or not. Since then, I stopped saying, 'it's a sign!'
Then, there was the Dark Age of my life. My Black Knight. I seem to have the habit of falling for my guy friends, because we also started out as friends. This time, I gave my all. (For me, at least. Confessing I like someone right in his face already constitutes my 'all'.) I didn't recognize myself back then. I listened to jazz music, because that's what he likes. I walked from Citibank to Glorietta because he likes to walk. I stopped telling him what I read and what music I listened to because he thinks bestsellers are cheesy and pop music is crap. I began liking the things he like, doing the things he likes to do, and even believing the things he believed in, all because of love. I became somebody else, hoping being someone else who adores him and worships the ground he walks upon will get him to love me.
I lost myself for a while, began to hate him when I almost became his evil twin, his shadow and he still can't or won't love me the way I wanted him to. Of course, I began hating him. I also hate the person I'm becoming. I became some sort of monster, I created for him. And still, I didn't get what I was expecting. That hurts. I got tired of pretending, I got tired of being someone else, I got tired of loving too much and not getting what I wanted in return.
Maybe because I have nothing left that's why when I got so tired, I simply let go. It was one of the easiest thing I've ever done. It was a long tedious and difficult road before I decided, but once I did, it was so easy like you wouldn't believe. Maybe because I finally let go of the small hope, that belief deep inside me, that I keep to myself that he'll come to love me in the future. When I finally let that go, I was free.
Love became an ugly thing for me in the past. It consumed me, made me stupid, made me hate myself and turned me into somebody else. I gave everything and when he still didn’t want me, I had nothing left. I still bear the scars from that experience, I still sometimes fall into this black hole, the belief that I'm so insignificant and so unlovable that nobody can love me. But that is all my doing. He didn't do it to me, I did it to myself. I didn't love myself enough. How can he?
A friend said when she falls, she falls hard and gives everything. Like love justifies everything. No reason, no logic and nothing's wrong. It's love. Fatal Attraction and Psycho you can be, and still it's not wrong, it's just love.
Maybe before I will agree. Not now.
Love is beautiful, and grand, and it shouldn't turn you into somebody else. It shouldn't make you cry without lending a shoulder to cry on. It shouldn't make you do things that leaves you with nothing but an empty shell. It should make you fly, carrying you on its wings. It should make you laugh, smile and do cartwheels. It should inspire you to be your best self, and not an ugly, monstrous mirror image of your worst self.
I believe in love. I believe in True Love. But I believe in the love that sets me free, not the one that do worst for me. If that makes me a cynic, then go ahead, call me one. I just trust God enough to know that He loves me, He'll want me to love being Me, and will give me someone who'll love the whole Me too.
That's what I believe.
Tove Jansson, Tales from Moominvalley
------
True love.
Everyone talks about love. Everyone wants to be loved and be in love, whether they admit it or not. I, the one in love with the notion of love, often writes and talks about love. All its whys and wherefores. In another one of those days, my girlfriends and I are caught up again in our talks about love, the casual ones and that true one.
I will strive to write my thoughts down and still create some semblance of reason despite the topic of love.
Last night, before I finally closed my eyes to sleep, I wondered briefly if I already became too cynical for love. I had dreams of a fairy tale kind of love, where my gallant Prince will sweep me off my feet, and we will fall perfectly in love. There'll be no problems because we'll be so in love, absorbed in each other to care much for reality. But of course, reality bites. And it bites hard. Fairy tales don't exist. Or they do, but they leave the bad parts out when they are telling it. They leave out the fact that not all loves ends in a romantic kiss and everyone will swoon while the two of you gallop and wave and disappear into the horizon to live happily ever after.
For me, it all started with my Chocolate Love Story. Everybody calls him my True Love. Like every young love, we started out as friends. Of course I blotched it all up by being a naive, hopelessly romantic girl who thought that if she does everything she can (note: be a certified stalker) to win his love, he's going to love her back. I was wrong. I thought there were all these signs that tells me we're made for each other. Yeah right.
It took me years to finally realize that accidentally seeing that we're wearing the same shirt at the same doesn't mean that we're destined to be together. That him working for a company in the same street as where I'm working for doesn't mean fate put us together again. And the two of us still single, and unattached again, after all these years, doesn't really mean we are the one for each other, but only that I'm picky and he's probably gay.
In a nutshell, I learned not to take 'signs' seriously, because when a person is in love, like I was before, we give ourselves our own made-up 'signs'. We ended up fooling ourselves. We have a distorted view of our situation and we are not a good judge of whether it is true love or not. Since then, I stopped saying, 'it's a sign!'
Then, there was the Dark Age of my life. My Black Knight. I seem to have the habit of falling for my guy friends, because we also started out as friends. This time, I gave my all. (For me, at least. Confessing I like someone right in his face already constitutes my 'all'.) I didn't recognize myself back then. I listened to jazz music, because that's what he likes. I walked from Citibank to Glorietta because he likes to walk. I stopped telling him what I read and what music I listened to because he thinks bestsellers are cheesy and pop music is crap. I began liking the things he like, doing the things he likes to do, and even believing the things he believed in, all because of love. I became somebody else, hoping being someone else who adores him and worships the ground he walks upon will get him to love me.
I lost myself for a while, began to hate him when I almost became his evil twin, his shadow and he still can't or won't love me the way I wanted him to. Of course, I began hating him. I also hate the person I'm becoming. I became some sort of monster, I created for him. And still, I didn't get what I was expecting. That hurts. I got tired of pretending, I got tired of being someone else, I got tired of loving too much and not getting what I wanted in return.
Maybe because I have nothing left that's why when I got so tired, I simply let go. It was one of the easiest thing I've ever done. It was a long tedious and difficult road before I decided, but once I did, it was so easy like you wouldn't believe. Maybe because I finally let go of the small hope, that belief deep inside me, that I keep to myself that he'll come to love me in the future. When I finally let that go, I was free.
Love became an ugly thing for me in the past. It consumed me, made me stupid, made me hate myself and turned me into somebody else. I gave everything and when he still didn’t want me, I had nothing left. I still bear the scars from that experience, I still sometimes fall into this black hole, the belief that I'm so insignificant and so unlovable that nobody can love me. But that is all my doing. He didn't do it to me, I did it to myself. I didn't love myself enough. How can he?
A friend said when she falls, she falls hard and gives everything. Like love justifies everything. No reason, no logic and nothing's wrong. It's love. Fatal Attraction and Psycho you can be, and still it's not wrong, it's just love.
Maybe before I will agree. Not now.
Love is beautiful, and grand, and it shouldn't turn you into somebody else. It shouldn't make you cry without lending a shoulder to cry on. It shouldn't make you do things that leaves you with nothing but an empty shell. It should make you fly, carrying you on its wings. It should make you laugh, smile and do cartwheels. It should inspire you to be your best self, and not an ugly, monstrous mirror image of your worst self.
I believe in love. I believe in True Love. But I believe in the love that sets me free, not the one that do worst for me. If that makes me a cynic, then go ahead, call me one. I just trust God enough to know that He loves me, He'll want me to love being Me, and will give me someone who'll love the whole Me too.
That's what I believe.
Wednesday, November 3, 2004
That Time of the Year
It's that time of the year again, when I'm feeling mellow and nostalgic, yet happy and excited. Christmas brings it all to me. But also I'll remember all the headaches that goes with it. Packed malls, bumper to bumper traffic and the irresistable lure of spending more and more in useless things. Plus, all the calories that are associated with Christmas. Gah! (As if I didn't gain enough pounds over the year!)
Still, I get a pang of nostalgia every time I hear Christmas songs played over the sound system in every shopping mall these days. Maybe because another Christmas will come and go and I still don't have anyone special and the new year is still a big unknown to me.
I believe, and I conclude that Christmas magnifies your feelings. If your happy and excited about the things going on in your life, you'll feel doubly happy. You'll smell Christmas all over you, shiver while basking in the cool December air, and look forward to all the Christmas parties, exchange gifts, puto bumbong and bibingka you can eat.
But if you're feeling down, and lonely, Christmas will push you to the brink of a nervous breakdown because it somehow excludes you from everyone if you're not happy. You'll feel stupid attending all those parties while each and everyone is with their special someone. You'll be grumpy about all those happy shoppers because they are causing major traffic jams. Christmas family reunions are a nightmare for single people. And the ham, cheese, puto bumbong and bibingka are enemies of those trying to lose pounds over the holidays. On top of all these, the carol singing and gay atmosphere everywhere will grate on your nerves because you don't belong with all the happy people.
Now, if you're stuck in between like me, then Christmas will be more confusing than ever. Sometimes I get lonely, other times I bounce with excitement. I love Christmas, and it's one thing that truly defines Jesus' birthday for me, all the celebration in His name. But I also hate all the pretentiousness everybody brings into the Christmas celebration. I'm often caught up in one, so I shouldn't be one to talk. And to tell you the truth, I often do get grumpy, and sometimes I even make Scrooge look Christmas-happy by comparison.
Okay, I'm just rambling on and on. What I wanted to say is that I'm torn between being excited and being lonely about the coming Christmas. But what the heck, I don't think I'll have time to be lonely. We're selling pastries, second semester is starting and I'm trying to lose weight. Those will surely keep me busy and tense and stressed enough for the coming holidays, that I won't have time to be lonely.
Besides, it's His birthday. And I'm going to party like it's His birthday.
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(Go figure I'll end this rambling, making even less sense than the rest of the entry. Gah!)
Still, I get a pang of nostalgia every time I hear Christmas songs played over the sound system in every shopping mall these days. Maybe because another Christmas will come and go and I still don't have anyone special and the new year is still a big unknown to me.
I believe, and I conclude that Christmas magnifies your feelings. If your happy and excited about the things going on in your life, you'll feel doubly happy. You'll smell Christmas all over you, shiver while basking in the cool December air, and look forward to all the Christmas parties, exchange gifts, puto bumbong and bibingka you can eat.
But if you're feeling down, and lonely, Christmas will push you to the brink of a nervous breakdown because it somehow excludes you from everyone if you're not happy. You'll feel stupid attending all those parties while each and everyone is with their special someone. You'll be grumpy about all those happy shoppers because they are causing major traffic jams. Christmas family reunions are a nightmare for single people. And the ham, cheese, puto bumbong and bibingka are enemies of those trying to lose pounds over the holidays. On top of all these, the carol singing and gay atmosphere everywhere will grate on your nerves because you don't belong with all the happy people.
Now, if you're stuck in between like me, then Christmas will be more confusing than ever. Sometimes I get lonely, other times I bounce with excitement. I love Christmas, and it's one thing that truly defines Jesus' birthday for me, all the celebration in His name. But I also hate all the pretentiousness everybody brings into the Christmas celebration. I'm often caught up in one, so I shouldn't be one to talk. And to tell you the truth, I often do get grumpy, and sometimes I even make Scrooge look Christmas-happy by comparison.
Okay, I'm just rambling on and on. What I wanted to say is that I'm torn between being excited and being lonely about the coming Christmas. But what the heck, I don't think I'll have time to be lonely. We're selling pastries, second semester is starting and I'm trying to lose weight. Those will surely keep me busy and tense and stressed enough for the coming holidays, that I won't have time to be lonely.
Besides, it's His birthday. And I'm going to party like it's His birthday.
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(Go figure I'll end this rambling, making even less sense than the rest of the entry. Gah!)
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