Take Heart and Give the Poor Guy a Chance

photo credit

I chanced upon ABC's Dating in the Dark earlier.  The show was about three single men and three single women trying to find his or her match while in the dark thus failing to see how each looks like until the revelation process.  

In the episode I saw, all the men agreed on dating a girl if she looked 'hot.'  I thought women know better but the three ladies on that show also had 'looks' high up on their list of standards, and even more so, if I must say.  One had misgivings because the cowboy guy was not wearing the right fashion while one girl was so disappointed with the guy she chose to see that she rated him a 5 out of 10, adding he was an average in the looks department.  The culmination of the show was the couple meeting in the balcony if they wanted to pursue a relationship or either or both of them exiting the house if s/he did not like the other.  Of course, that girl exited the house and the poor guy was left alone in the balcony, watching her leave while wondering what was wrong with him.

The above made me think if indeed, we have all gone shallow.  I mean, come on, he is the same guy who the girl thought is nice and her match prior to seeing his face!  Why not try to probe things deeper by going on a date with him?  

Whatever happened to things that matter most like honesty and kindness and love and fidelity? 

I won't be a hypocrite and say looks don't matter because they do but all I'm saying is at least give the guy a chance with a date or two.  Who knows, he truly is the one for you but since you're too busy critiquing his looks, you fail to see how he takes care of you or makes you laugh or complements you.

Life is too short...

Life is too short for me to live it recklessly, thoughtlessly or wastefully. Thus, in each and every day of my life, I find numerous reasons to live life meaningfully and to its full extent.

Life is too short for me to procrastinate. When an opportunity comes knocking on my door, I embrace it if it is worth embracing. As much as possible, I do not leave any word unsaid or deed undone.

Life is too short for me to live it regretting my wrongdoings. The past is over and done with and so I must not dwell on but learn from it. What matters is the gift of the present, the hope of the future.

Life is too short for me to live it in sorrow, bitterness or anger. Happiness is a choice. I grieve when necessary but knowing that the world will never stop for my grief, I move on. Anger is self-destructive. It shortens one’s life span.

Life is too short to take short cuts. I live each day feeling each emotion fully and savoring each experience passionately no matter how mundane it may seem. It is what I do with it that makes each experience extraordinary.

Life is too short to hasten its pace. Thus, I let things run their natural course. Forcing things to happen destroys the very existence of surprises. There is beauty in the spontaneity of things. Patience pays.

Life is too short and so I make the most of it.

Unsent Letter to a Friend

Dear __________,

Do you remember those times when you got hurt over family matters and nearly devastated over your failed relationships? You were so hurt that it also pained me to look at your wounded eyes. But you were too proud to cry. And so, together, we pondered over your worries. We traded laughter for tears and fought so hard to forget your pains.

Later, when we got home and we’re alone in our respective rooms, I worried so much about you. I especially worried about the tears you refused to cry. I wished you could let it all out, wished I could make you spill it out...

In the end, I cried for you. It was me who shed the tears you refused to cry. I cried and cried. I cried till I cursed the two of us. Till I cursed all of them.

Why do we always have to exude an aura of strength and dependability? Why does it always have to be us other people run to when they have problems? Why do they always turn to us for answers? Are we such good listeners? Do we dish our really good advice that they just keep coming back to us? Why can’t they see that we do have our own worries to address and monsters to battle with? If we’re such good “advisers,” how come we can’t fix our own problems?

Scrap the idea of being needed by others. It’s high time we address our own needs.

But darn! Why are we so proud to admit that we do have needs?

================

written when I was maybe 18. This was unfinished so I wasn’t able to send it out. I just saw it in my college notebook while I was organizing my things and since I still have the same questions, I decided to post it here.

Photo taken from here.

To sell my soul to have the love of my life?

The above pertains to a question asked in Yahoo Answers. Here's the complete question:

Would you sell your soul in order to have the love of your life?

My answer, detailed below, was chosen as the Best Answer by the asker.

I wouldn't because then it (the act of trading my soul for love) is a very selfish, possessive kind of "love" which in itself is not loving but merely an ownership of another human being.

Also, I can't imagine loving "soullessly" or "being soulless." The soul is credited with the faculties of thought, action, and emotion. To "be" and to "love" without a soul is futile. And senseless.

The soul is the central or integral part, the vital core of one's being thus to lose it is to lose all as even in the after-life, the soul is that which will bring us either eternal happiness or damnation.

I just edited the capitalization as before, I used to post my answers in the said forum using small letters. Click HERE to view the question's link.

"Lost"

I always have this haunting feeling that I am somehow lost amidst a sea of people who are too immersed in their own worlds and feelings of uppity self-worth to notice that the world does not revolve around them and that other people aside from themselves do exist.

Some (or most) people can be so cold of heart or just plain apathetic. I notice this every day – giggling teens texting or eating while an impoverished child trails behind them begging for alms, a yuppie-looking guy in the MRT not caring to offer his seat to a woman or an elderly or people jostling and even cursing to board the train heedless that they might trample the pregnant, the child or the physically challenged among them. Then, there’s this “new breed” of people who have their earphones permanently glued to their ears, seemingly oblivious to what’s around them as long as they have their music to listen to. There are also those who would rather doze off or pretend to be sleeping to be spared offering their seat to somebody else.

It saddens me that while we claim to have reached the pinnacle of being civilized and modern, our concern to our neighbors is actually dwindling. So are some of our values. Why, one’s lucky to hear an appropriate apology these days or a sincere thank you. Just the other day, a guy collided into me but I didn’t hear a peep of “excuse me” or even a hasty apology from him. More and more people too are forgetting to smile and be generally nice and polite to everyone. There’s this misplaced “mind your own business” business that I find it difficult at times to reach out to others.

Today’s life is too fast-paced that most people are rushing headlong into it without fully enjoying the trip or bothering to accommodate others into their lives. There’s misunderstood “equality.” Chivalry’s dead. I heard one guy in the MRT telling his companion that if men can stand during an MRT trip, women can too. Like whaaat?! Of course we can but the point is that offering his seat to a woman shows a man’s character. Apathy is widespread and so is negative individualism (I call this the “me, myself, mine and I” syndrome).

I know that I am not the only one harboring these thoughts. But maybe, just maybe, I’m the one feeling more lost than others because others have already become accustomed to such. But not I, not now, not ever…for always, in those instances, I’d feel disoriented – being with the crowd but “lost” among them.

When being rich is not an excuse or a right…

The phone call was terrible, jarring me from my pleasant thoughts of going home in less than an hour. Before the call, I so looked forward to going home. Now, I so looked forward to ending it. Or to strangling the person on the other end of the line. Thankfully, the call ended. But the annoyance remained in me and what transpired got me thinking…

He was just impossible. And horrible. And damned unreasonable. I hate that kind of person – he who flaunts his money, clout and power, who thinks he owns the world and anyone in it just because he is rich.

Being rich is not an excuse to be rude. Indeed, all the luxuries and privileges in this world would not entitle one to decency and breeding.

Being rich does not entail anyone the right to be nasty, demeaning and arrogant. Yes, we did a mistake (a slight one at that) with his hotel reservations but having him all worked up and breathing down our necks with as much anger and sarcasm as he could muster was unnecessary. So was the SOB curse that he directed to my colleague.

That’s what really made me angry. The curse. And the fact that no apologies would suffice, not one among the many logical reasons and explanations was acceptable to him. It was crazy! Reasoning with him was futile and draining - emotionally, mentally and physically, because it was like reasoning with a two-year old, if not with a demented person. At least, a two-year old child would be nice.

In my three years in the business, I especially hate hearing this line, said with dripping pompousness, “Do you know who I am?” Hearing this question makes me see red that sometimes, I am tempted to answer, “No, sir. Because you are not as famous as you think you are and your clout does not reach this far.” But of course, being the customer-oriented person that I am (or maybe, I am just nice), I would simply sweetly say no. Good thing Mr. Rich Guy did not make the mistake of saying those words or I would have forgotten being customer-oriented and nice.

I really don’t have anything against rich people. Some rich people are actually nice and it is just ironic that those who are really rich are the ones who are humble. The nouveau riche, meanwhile are the ones who are arrogant. They are the ones so obsessed with flaunting their newfound wealth, so vain in thinking that everyone knows them and they can make people do what they demand just because they have the money.

Being the arrogant and self-centered nouveau riche that he is, no wonder Mr. Rich Guy came out downright rude. Too bad we live in a sue-happy society or I would just gladly tell him to shut up and get lost.

Thus this blog. Just so I can let it all out.


===============
reprinted from my Friendster blog, dated July 17, 2007. Why? 'coz just this morning I had a phone call that is almost similar to what transpired last year. It's actually worse because the lady was very unreasonable and inexcusably rude even when it is not our fault but hers. And I am so pissed to even consider doing a different blog.

Unstill

The stillness of the night beckons to me. I don't know but there has always been something about the dead of the night that appeals to me. Maybe it's because there is a certain surge of power in knowing that while the world is resting, I am the solitary moving figure unclaimed by sleep's spell.

I also love being alone with my thoughts and most of my thought-provoking questions and answers come at night, sometimes unbidden. It is as if it is at this time that I am at my most aware, vulnerable even. Some thoughts sometimes scare me. Other times they bring elation. Still at times they veer crazily to hilarity. Or insanity.

The night is quiet and it is in this silence that my heart and mind find their refuge. In the serenity of the night is the blanket that warms and soothes me as I lie awake.

Sometimes too, I wear the darkness of the night as my cloak and prowl the streets. The wind will whip my hair and the breeze will gently caress my face. And a myriad of thoughts will still come of course.

The night is still but I am not.

Standpoint

I believe in the beauty of all creation
In the goodness in each person
And in the wonders and mysteries of life and of living
I believe in lasting friendship
In love and in bonds
That tie hearts together
I believe in differences and contrasts
But I also believe that empathy and understanding
Bridge differences and that contrasts
Often complement two opposite individuals
I believe in sunshine after the rain
In lessons learned after moments of sorrow and pain
And in joy felt
Even in suffering and in sacrificing
I believe in the magic of believing
In the power of hoping and in cherishing dreams
And in striving to reach those dreams
I believe in God and in His greatness
In His goodness and in His constant love
I believe in His presence
For I see and feel Him working in you
And I believe He is looking after me
When He gave me the precious gift
Of a wonderful friend in you.

Woman & Beauty

It is not beauty that defines a woman

because it is she who defines beauty.
Beauty is being contented with and accepting of
who and what she really is.
It is the strength in her character,
the confidence, optimism, joy and hope
that she has in the way she lives life to the fullest.
It is in her warm, caring & nurturing nature,
In the way she is a “mother” to all.


A woman is not perfect
and she does not try to be
But her beauty is best seen
in how she carries herself in trying, difficult times.
A woman’s beauty is in her courage & bravery
to fight life’s challenges head on.
It is in her being aware of her inadequacies
and in knowing full well
How to make the most of them.


A woman is beautiful
and her only affirmation in that
is her belief in herself.

Amidst the Harsh Realities of Life

Life can sometimes be too demanding,
Confusing and complicated,
Even cruel – Loss of a loved one,
Betrayal of a friend,
Rejection from someone,
Pressures around us,
Constant challenge of choices,
Man’s never ceasing wants and complaints,
His insatiable thirst and hunger for money, power and fame,
Bigotry, Pride and Selfishness,
Trials and Hardships,
Complexities and Contradictions,
Pains, Fears and Doubts,
Competitions, Oppositions and Self-struggle…
But amidst all those
Two overpowering truths sustain me:
One is that God is always looking after me,
No matter what
He knows and wants only the best for me
And is gradually molding me
To become what He wants me to be
Gold and silver are fashioned through the fire
And I through trials and sufferings
And two is that you are with me
The very person who is God’s instrument of love
A friend, a mentor, a sister and more…
The gentleness and beauty
Amidst the harsh realities of life…
Is you, my dearest.

Single by Choice & Happy

“When a woman buys a pair of shoes, she goes to eight shops to compare style, color, fit and price… In each shop, she’ll probably try a dozen pairs – holding it, touching it, smelling it, wearing it, walking on it, before she eventually buys the shoes… She also usually brings a friend, always conferring and asking for comments… But when it comes to love, a woman will love the first jerk that will make her blush…”

-- Bo Sanchez

I couldn’t help but guffaw when I read the above quote. How astute. And how ironic and funny too that this should come from a guy. But really, it’s true. Love can indeed make even the most intelligent of people stupid.

My cousin and I used to say that good men are always taken. My sister even has a mug that declares, “Men are like parking spaces – the good ones are always taken.” Either that or those men are either gay or have vocations or religious calling. Thus, some women settle for just any guy who comes along, never mind that the guy falls short of their standards.

I know of a lot of intelligent, capable women who had their downfall because of love. Or rather, because of loving some heartless heartbreaker guys. Come to think of it, maybe it is called falling in love because of that. Falling is the operative word for love will literally plunge you into a terrain that you don’t know. It will make an emotional wreck out of you and make you defy logic and reason. Love will make you do things that you thought were beyond you.

Love is supposed to be fulfilling. It is happiness. But it is not if you fall for the wrong person. It is just ironic though that people often commit the mistake of falling in love with the wrong person…

A lot of people wonder why I remain single. Some friends would even go to such lengths as pairing me up with their guy friends, colleagues or relatives or having me go to endless dates. In most cases, unless I was bribed or coerced (Hehe!) I declined their playing Cupid. Why? Because I love my life as it is. I am single by choice and loving every minute of it. I am a complete person and I do not need a guy by my side to make me happy (or the wrong guy making a mess of my life).

Admittedly, the biggest reason why I remain single is because I am very choosy. There is no perfect guy. There might even be no right guys for all I know. But hey, as long as he sincerely loves me and we share the same wavelengths, have some reconcilable (take note, RECONCILABLE) differences that will add spice to our relationship and there’s mutual acceptance and respect for each other, and of course FIDELITY then he’s okay with me.

I am in no rush. I am single because HE has not arrived yet. He who is the man worth FALLING IN LOVE with (and yeah, maybe LOSING MY HEAD over, Haha!). And until he does come, I’ll enjoy the freedom and happiness that come with my being single.

Cheers!

===============

reprinted from my Friendster blog dated August 15, 2007

Conversations with Myself: On Beauty

The Questions

Just look at you. So feminine and pretty. Is that how you define beauty now? With the neatly coiffed hair, the subtle makeup, all these dresses and skirts and "power suits" and whatnot? Whatever happened to that simple girl who used to balk at the mere idea of putting on makeup? To that impish child-woman who adorns herself with only her smile? 

Do you still remember your "hoyden" days? You were "one of the boys." You hated wearing skirts and feminine sandals and would rather starve than wear high heels. Your hair was cropped short or in instances when they were long, was almost always up in an artless ponytail or braids and seldom would you consult a mirror.

In you teen years, unlike snotty, always giggling giddy girls, you remained simple and unaffected and sneered at all those "snotty, feeling all-grown-up-but-with-brains-the-size-of-peas tweens whose stuck-up behavior made you swore to never be like any of them in whatever way or form. Some of those girls teased you mercilessly but you held your ground quite admirably. Unlike these "pa-girl" girls, you loved lugging your backpack around and were usually dressed in sneakers, tees and jeans. You even used to dress like Alex Mack, right?

Then you became sophisticated and I got scared. Where's the girl who I have been carrying a torch for all these years? I like the changes that I'm seeing but beneath those, what have you become?

The Answers

I have changed but I am still me. Why do some equate being sophisticated with being "maarte," even shallow? I've seen people treat women they consider as "eye candy" as "bimbos" only to be surprised when some of these "bimbos" converse to them with wit and style. My current case and the case of those "snotty, feeling all-grown-up-but-with-brains-the-size-of-peas tweens" in my teens are different. Don't generalize.

My job in the travel and tourism industry requires that I am always at my best, yes, even (well maybe, most of all), physically, too. I wear makeup only to enhance my natural assets. Femininity is not all about wearing skirts and dresses and putting on makeup. I can wear jeans sans the makeup and still look utterly feminine.

And you got it wrong. I did not become sophisticated. Sophistication became me. It is not those dresses and makeup and whatnot that make me look good. I make them look good on me.

Beneath the sophisticated exterior, the simple girl still lives. Look beyond the glitters and you'll find an even greater gem. My reality is defined not just by appearance but more by what my heart holds.

Big Girls Do Cry

... I hope you know, I hope you know

That this has nothing to do with you

It's personal, Myself and I

We've got some straightenin' out to do

And I'm gonna miss you like a child misses their blanket

But I've got to get a move on with my life

Its time to be a big girl now

And big girls don't cry

Don't cry

Don't cry

Don't cry... 

So goes the chorus of Fergie's Big Girls Don't Cry. But she's wrong. Big girls do cry. Harder. And for deeper and more painful reasons.

Little girls cry over petty and childish quarrels with playmates. Over not having a new toy or scraping their knees with their being hyperactive. Little girls cry when they are having tantrums... Over simple and sometimes fussy and nonsense things but even if they cry easily, they also get pacified quickly. Candies and sweets can bring back the smiles. A hug from loved ones while they are whispering soothing words can stop the tears from streaming over little girls' faces...

But gone were those little girl days...

"It's time to be a big girl now," a line from that song says. And oh how hard it is to be a big girl. And when trying and difficult times come, no matter how much big girls try to quell the tears, to be strong and show to the world how independent and self-sustained they are, there will be some times when the tears will come. And come will they - with these big girls' crying ranging from sniffles to wracking sobs and wails...

Big girls do cry. Over failures. Over lost loves. Big girls cry because they have been hurt or betrayed by people they care about. Tears flow because of losing or missing a loved one, of feelings of loneliness and bitterness. Big girls cry over sad and painful memories, over things that even time sometimes has difficulty healing. They cry because of frustration or rage, even because of poignant songs, stories or movies that strike a chord in their hearts. Big girls may even cry when overwhelmed with happiness.

Crying is not a sign of weakness, of being childish or of being a girl, woman or lady. It does not connote femininity. Life is not entirely a bed of roses, the weather not always sunny...

So go on, let the tears flow freely. Cry until you've exhausted all the pent-up longings, the unspoken fears, the loneliness and pain that are bottled up inside. Afterwards, smile and say, "My moment with sadness is over. I may not be totally all right yet but my path to healing has started."

====================

reprinted from my Friendster blog dated June 22, 2007

Detachment

Detachment is not to deny but to give life. Not to disintegrate with others but to be one with one's self and be a part of the different wholes we belong to. Not to refuse love but to love truly and fully...

Why I Hate Fairy Tales

Unlike little girls my age, I never liked reading fairy tales. I hated reading about princesses or ladies in distress waiting for their prince charmings or knights in shining armor to save them from evil stepmothers, witches, beasts and whatever peril that would befall them.

Girls or women are not helpless. Some may like being saved or love the feeling of security that a man's protection brings but some women are capable of looking after themselves, even of protecting the ones they love.

That is why among all Walt Disney cartoons, my favorite is Mulan. Mulan is not your typical heroine. She was too headstrong and spirited. Hers was not the typical heroine beauty either - all dainty and delicate, as hers is a beauty that mirrors her strength of character while remaining charmingly feminine. Mulan did not need a prince to protect her or save her. In an era when women were undervalued, she proved herself and showed to the world that a woman is more than just an adornment or a vehicle for child-bearing.

Call me a feminist harridan, I really do not care. I'm strong-willed, independent and a woman empowered. I have my monsters and demons to slay but I don't need a prince or a knight to vanquish them.

Happy endings don't require princes or knights. They are what we make them.

Heartprints

People come into and walk out of our lives but only our true friends leave heartprints that warm our hearts and enrich our lives.

Happy Endings

Do you believe in happy endings? Jane Smith in the movie Mr. & Mrs. Smith succinctly said, "Happy endings are stories that just haven't finished yet."

I am melancholic. A cynic too but not that much of a cynic. I believe in happy endings but am aware too of life's harsh realities. Still, I hope for happy endings. I just can't help it. Maybe I am just a hopeless idealist, an incurable optimist.

Let the ocean toss its biggest waves. My boat will go on sailing. I will hold on to my faith. To my belief that I will finish the race triumphantly. Nothing and no one will hold me back. Unless I let them, that is.

My life is not yet over. And contrary to what Jane Smith said, mine won't be a sad finish. My story won't end until I give it the best and happiest of endings.

Life is a choice. So is happiness. Thus I choose to live life to the fullest.

Carpe diem!

Severing Ties

I say goodbye.

I’m pretty much comfortable with myself now and with the decisions I made and am making. I know I have changed and I like myself better for this. I am not as trusting, or as open as I once was, nor as "needy" or as "clingy." I guess when one gets older, she gets somewhat jaded, the youthful idealism diminishes, and so does the futile search for perfection and complete order and control, and the once entirely rosy-colored world becomes a more bearable reality.

The events of my life didn’t leave me scarred for eternity. I became a better person because of them. There had been no anger at anyone or at myself, nor self-pity. Maybe acceptance also comes with being older. Or should OBEISANCE be the term?

"Totally free and spirited me no longer... and with no trace of defiance, I bowed humbly to a force stronger than I."