The One with the Dreary Tales Part 1

Thanks to those who voted on my side panel about what you want to read about. Because a few people asked for it, fine, fine, I'll give you a peek into my love life (or lack thereof). These will be random musing because, I am technically, not allowed to write about love since I don't feel that for anyone or anything at this point. 

Disclaimer: This is a post about love. Yes, love. How I see it now, how I used to see it and all that ballyhoo. If you're not the type to read about something this cheesy and loving, go ahead and skip through and just read this... Link

When I was a little girl, I was read fairy tales before I went to sleep. It was narrated how Cinderella, in her patience and grace, came to snag Prince Charming. I marveled at how Snow White's sheer beauty was enough to stop a hot guy in his tracks and kiss her, despite the creep factor (remember the Enchanted Forest?!) and 7 stocky dwarfs, because he simply can't resist. I was amazed at how Rapunzel's hope was enough to give her strength to wait for her Batman (and I call him Batman cos he used her hair as his utility belt). Finally, Beauty was so kind and loving to Beast, no matter how monstrous he was, that she was able to change him from jerk to McDreamy in a snap. 

They tend to live happily ever after. 

Those fairy tales made sense. It was a girl, a princess or a commoner, whose heart was golden and had purity, grace and honesty weaved into their characters. She always "meets" a prince, whether by accident, by luck or just plain fate. It was like it was written in their destinies. It was bewildering how they'd find their princes cos they lived in far away lands! Why would anyone want to gallop into the wilderness, only to find love?

Men have supposedly ridden into the sunset while dreaming of their fair maidens. 

So, maybe I'm not beautiful, pure and golden-hearted enough to warrant a man? Sometimes, I really think that way. I mean, it's not as if I have a committed and loving man by my side, eagerly awaiting until I come home to ask me for dinner or lunch. Sometimes, I wonder if it's also the reason why my first serious relationship didn't pan out. Was I not good enough, was I too much to handle, was I unfair or unjust? It's too much of an anxiety for me to even figure it out.

Was I the bad, rotten apple of his life? 

A good friend once told me that whatever it was that happened with me and the ex, it was better left to the past. Primarily because he won't have anything to do with me anyhow. If I died today, he probably won't even flinch because he already made his decision and if he ever says he cares, it's not true. He is only guilty when he reaches out and to "kill the guilt", he needs to know I'm alright and happy. Sometimes, I think what he says is true. He makes sense so much that it makes me wonder why I even try sometimes to make my ex feel comfortable about a friendship. The truth of the matter is, I think I may have feelings for him still. No one gets rid of that easily. If you loved someone for 5 years, believed you'd be married to that person and built rainbows and butterflies around a dream that involved the two of you, there's no way you can just wake up one morning and tell yourself, 'ahhh, it's over'. I admit, it still breaks my heart to know he has someone new, someone better perhaps, someone that he will take a bullet for, over me but I have to be happy for him, cos that person may be the key to his happiness.

All the king's horses and all the king's men can't put the little princess' heart back together again... 

This made me believe that the fairy tale is over. The fairy tale that never began was over before I knew it. No unicorns, no dwarfs, no nymphs, no rainbows, no magic spells, no enchanted forests, no loving kisses and more importantly, no prince charming.

Another friend told me that "My prince charming has already been run over in a highway or freeway somewhere, along with his white horse..." That sucks. 

And when you think friends can console you, that just made it a little worse for me (no offense meant to my friends)... People think that after a break-up, you're supposed to enjoy and live life and party like crazy. I did that. I would be high on times when I was dancing, living it up, eating with friends, drinking like crazy and then when you come home, you crash. You remember. You get reminded of the tears and the apologies and you bawl in one corner of your room, hoping no one in your family can hear you and think to yourself, oh God, what kind of concealer and eye drop would I be using this time? What was so hard for me to do was to show them any sort of emotion. It was sad because I kept myself from crying in front of them. It wasn't their fault, nor was it something they imposed on me, but I felt like I couldn't put them through so much. They have been with me with every fight, every argument I've ever had with my ex. I felt like bringing them there, to a point of sheer destruction, being left alone, being left in the altar, being abandoned was just unfair. Friends were there, not knowing I had eye drops and concealer every time I'd leave my room, not knowing I cried every night, for 30 minutes in one corner of my room, praying to God to take me or take my pain away. I hid it from my family as well, because in their opinion, I was lucky. God protected me from a possible hurtful and painful experience.

No more of these... 

Fast forward almost a year since he first broke up with me, there are still feelings and I'm not going to lie about. The pain isn't as strong. God kept His end of the bargain cos He hasn't taken me yet. I won't wake up in the middle of the night crying and I won't come home baffling my cab driver cos I've been crying in the cab... I would be okay. I functioned well and I am still learning everyday. Every day, I take as a challenge. As I come home, I find something to do. I accept jobs for graphic design, I talk with friends, I watch TV, I read a book, I blog, I subscribe to silly feeds over the net, I do something... anything to keep my mind off him and what might have been. Does it help? A little. A little at a time. One bit at a time. I guess that's how you get back on your feet. You don't stand up after a fall, you slowly and gradually get back on your feet, cos the second tumble will hurt more.

Trying to recover from the pain isn't easy. 

Do I still love him? Yes. Do I do something to get him back? No. Do I want him back? I don't know. 

People come and go, that's what fairy tales fail to tell you. They teach you lessons, they show you what's right from wrong, and enables you to form an ideal in your head. It allows you to dream. It gives you a warm and fuzzy feeling inside and tells you to go for things. It never teaches you how to deal with a broken heart or how to cope when no man comes and sweeps you off your feet. It never teaches you what to do with pain or hurt or disappointment.

But it teaches you hope... and someday, my fairy tale will be told. I don't doubt it for one minute.

No photographers were harmed during the making of this post. All pictures are linked and obtained legally from Stock Xchng. 

The One with the Depression

So here I am, at home, very sick and wondering why on earth did I go online. Oh right, I was supposed to work on something too. I figured since I'm breaking the cardinal rule of bed rest (which is being in my chair and not in bed), I might as well tell you a little bit of what I've been feeling.

No pill made me feel better. And vitamin C - I freakin' miss you!

Day 1: Friday 
Temperature: 38.5 - 39 degrees Celsius
Appetite: So-so. I needed to eat. 
Tonsils: Not so inflamed. Kinda scratchy. 
Demeanor: Meh, I needed to sleep. 
I have been sick for almost a week now - wait, it has been a week. I was in bed when I started having chills and severe body pain. If you want to torture me, I can endure almost any kind of pain - I have had migraines since I was a kid, my ovary has 16 or so different cysts that never seem to leave me be, I have had toothaches and root canals and I've had an accident that caused me to have a lopsided nose (think Owen Wilson, only sexier...), but never ever ever give me a sick headache with body pains cos that would cause my head to go spinning around so badly. Also, a bad flu makes my lymph nodes swell so badly that I actually feel them fighting the infection. It wasn't bad that I had a fever, what was bad was what I was feeling - the fever made me feel so weak and almost dying (how dramatic).

Not as pretty when I'm sick, but you get the idea! 

This is how I know that if I ever contract HIV, I will die on the spot, cos my lymph nodes would probably burst out of my neck and will kill me in that very instant.

Day 2-3: Saturday - Sunday 
Temperature: 39-39.5 degrees Celsius
Appetite: No appetite at all...
Tonsils: Inflamed as heck. Can't talk too much. I keep gargling salt water and suckling on lozenges. I was almost 100% positive that it was strep throat.
Demeanor: Irritable as hell! Coughing didn't help. Plus my back felt tense and pained. 
It's a "kill me now" moment. I felt so damned weak. I didn't realize that the AC was on, or that the fan was on, I was cold all the time. I stayed in bed the whole 24 hours of each day and I wouldn't even want to eat. I hated any food. Nothing tasted like anything it should. I had chicken which tasted like cardboard and rice that tasted like gooey cardboard. I had beef that tasted like corrugated paper with a little soy sauce in it. My dad is an excellent cook and he puts of soul and love into each dish but man, that weekend was so bad that if you gave me super fiery Indian food, I'd probably say that their Fontina has gone bad.

Looks appetizing, right?! Didn't do anything for me. 

I hated the fact that I didn't have anyone to come to for some TLC. I have to admit that family is there all the time. My mom would check my temperature and would SMS me even when she's in the market. She got me bananas to munch on. She even got me a bottle of Gatorade cos I wouldn't eat anything. But I was really hoping for someone to kind of cuddle with me. I know it's gross and disgusting to be bundled in a comforter with someone snotty and probably has germs all around her but it would have been amazing to have a hug from someone that cared enough.

Day 4: Monday 
Temperature: Back to kinda normal - 38 degrees Celsius 
Appetite: Not much appetite, tried to eat anyhow. 
Tonsils: Gargling was a good idea. It made me feel a little better. I really thought I could come to work then. 
Demeanor: Hopeful that I was gonna be well enough to get to work. 
What the heck was happening?! I wasn't normal anymore. I felt weak but I felt so hopeful and I was wishing for nothing more than normalcy - the office, the carpeted floors, my huge screen, my modules... Alas, I was wrong. Come night time, my fever spiked up and I suddenly had no energy to go anywhere. I sent an SMS to my boss, Chase and told him I'll go to the doctor.

Got an expensive doctor, BTW. General and Cancer Surgeon - Dr. Raymond Natividad. Apparently, the dude had a "line" even though you've called in and begged for a 10.30 appointment. The dude is a genius! I think my HMO is a little crazy cos they automatically associated me with cancer. (My aunt had non-Hodgekin's Lymphoma, go figure.)

Day 5: Tuesday 
Temperature: 38.5 degrees Celsius 
Appetite: None at all. 
Tonsils: Swollen as heck. Exudative, apparently. 
Demeanor: Pissed off at the laboratory people for making me wait so long for a blood extraction. 
Dr. Natividad saw me for the first time and did all the tests - he tested for pneumonia and bronchitis and decided right then and there that I didn't have cancer. He even ordered a blood count and a urinalysis, was worried about a rash that I had in my tummy area (cos that's a side effect) and my eyes. I love this doctor, no matter how exorbitant the fees are. He made me purchase the most expensive antibiotics (and to think I'm a pharmacist!) and made me promise that I'll stay in bed for the rest of week.

I went to work that night to file for my leave and to finish some crazy last minute meetings with my SMEs before deploying a project. I know, I know, I was crazy to come to work. After that long day, I slept like a baby! I was told to expect worse high-grade fevers cos he diagnosed me with Acute Exudative Tonsillopharyngitis. I was supposedly non-contagious until I start making out with someone (again, a single girl joke - why won't people let up?!).

Men think that unless I look like this, I won't do. 

I came to work and I'm glad I saw my friends there. Ivan, Candy, Jessie - I love just being surrounded by people that I've come to respect and love, thanks to work. And also, you know, no matter how feverish I was, I didn't feel the need to complain about it, cos it's natural. I attended all my meetings and thankfully, Sonja approved my leave. I've been on bed rest since Wednesday evening til now.

Now
Temperature: 38 degrees Celsius 
Appetite: A little, I had chicken. Woohoo!
Tonsils: Better now, I feel a little more comfy swallowing and relaxing my neck. 
Demeanor: Chill. :) 
I'm sick still. On my last day of bed rest, I hope the worst is over cos I feel a little bit better. My back is still tense but I'm sweating so that's a good sign, right? I'm hoping that when I get sick again this year, it won't be this bad.

I'm not going to lie. All throughout those days when I needed bed rest, all I could think about was why was it happening to me. I'm a good person, I am a real team player, I actually work my ass off and I'm trying hard to make a difference in my world. Last year, when my life was suddenly and abruptly turned upside down by a personal tragedy, I figured God must not send out lightning to strike twice. Like I always tell people, it's bad enough when the rest of the world sees you and disappoints you. It's harder when you're the one that disappoints yourself. I guess it depresses me that while the world world may have turned its back on me, my body - my own body would actually betray me as badly.

I'm going to be the best version of me. No more slacking off. I'm not even doing this to be sexy. I'm doing this for me!

This has taught me so much about what I need to do from now on. I'm not young anymore. Back then, I won't exercise and I would feel fine. Now, I crave for vegetables (I guess it's my body's way of saying I need more nutrients than the fried tennis shoe I eat for dinner everyday!) and I crave for fruits and I actually bought an elliptical trainer (Thanks to my brother from another mother, Ivan). The firm and real realization? I need to take care of me, cos no one else will. The dreams of actually having someone cuddle with you while you're sick - not gonna happen. It's more of me now and part of enjoying me, is actually making me healthy and good.

No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this post. All photos were obtained legally from Stock Xchng. 
By the way, Candy's disappointed. Read a little bit about the 5 Levels of Disappointment on the Define blog. 

The One with the Sunday Trip

I love weekends, because as my bucket list says, I love reconnecting with people. This Sunday, I got to reconnect with me! For some reason, I just realized that I haven't really gone to other places. I'm so used to going to the mall I love hanging out in, we have an SM next to us which I frequent for groceries, toiletries and yes, even clothes.

So when the opportunity to go to Marriot was presented to me, I had to grab it by its horns. Chloe was kind enough to be my host for the amazing experience I was about to embark on.

First shot of the plaza. Amazing autumn tree with Chinese lanterns. 

Chinese lanterns adorn the facade, to celebrate Chinese New Year. 

Took a picture of the people right below me as well. 

Beautiful square next to the Casino. 

My trip, as usual is peppered by a nice dinner with Moussaka and some Chicken Gyro and pita bread. I can't get enough of the drinks though. I had a drink after weeks of preventing myself from doing so. I love, love, love Mojitos and I can prolly a drink a gallon of it. Along with the drinks came a show.

At first it was POSH, an all girl group that was scantily-clad (think Japanese schoolgirl costumes with butt cheeks showing and all and for their second costume change, they had on some glittering brassieres and silver stretchy pants... it's enough to make me want to crawl back into my oversized black poncho) but singing 70's and 80's songs. It's funny cos at a certain point, they went down to the audience part and passed the mic around. Renz, one of the girls sat beside me and made me sing "Can't Take My Eyes Off You".

Then came Prince of Persia, where there were, of course, scantily-clad women dancing a belly up routine which made me think that I should prolly take up belly dancing cos it looks so darned sexy! They also danced the cancan, which made me think that it had nothing to do with Persia. Another portion of the dance was a Latino Flamenco type of dance that I enjoyed so much.

As we were heading home, Chloe said that it was the perfect revenge, being happy without the guy that tore my heart apart and I looked at her. For a moment, I had to really dig through my mind... And truthfully, without any hesitation, I told her that I forgot about him. I think honestly, I've learned to let go and I'm moving on. It was a Sunday trip I won't forget. I may have lost something along the way, the man I was supposed to marry... but I gained something else - friends, family, my life.

Me and Chloe, hanging out at Cafe Med... Happy after Moussaka and Chicken Gyros. 

Watch out world... I'm back! 

All pictures from this post were taken with a Sony DSC Series camera. 

The One with the Rebound

rebound - (n) an undefined period following the break up of a romantic relationship. The term's use dates to at least the 1830s, when Mary Russell Mitford wrote of "nothing so easy as catching a heart on the rebound".

This didn't really make sense to me until a few months ago. To be honest, prior to finding my ex, I always defined rebound as this pharmacological phenomenon of returning symptoms when you discontinue or stop taking a medication <read: pain coming back after you stop taking pain-killers>. 

Right, it could be about basketball too, but then I never really understood basketball! 

Nowadays, being on the rebound means you're physically with someone with little to no emotions and you're just going through the motions of being in a relationship. Perhaps to wean yourself off the pain or being dumped, moreover, to increase your confidence that someone would be with you in a relationship. 

Hard to glue the pieces back together when your heart is broken. 

You can always say that life is somewhat fair. It gives you what you need exactly when you need it. Others turn to friends, some turn to an ex, some turn to their family, some find someone new. And it's always a rebound. 

A couple of months back, there was someone I thought I might have genuine feelings for. He would flirt, he would be affectionate and would talk to me for hours. That affection is gone. Perhaps, he got tired of my obsession to analyze things. Perhaps it was just a fleeting thing. In any case, was he my rebound guy? I would think back and look at his Facebook profile and laugh at his status and always wonder, does he ever look at my status? Would he ever pick up his phone and give me a call and wonder if he ever pursued me, would there be a real chance at a future? All I know is he left me better than he ever found me, and if this is what rebounding is supposed to be, I'm happy he rebounded with me. 

Sometimes, I wonder if I'll ever find a guy that's tall, dark and handsome. Should I settle for a shadow? 

If you ask me if I hate him, no. Am I disappointed? Not really. I expected the worst and hoped for the best. Will I ever find someone "better" than him? Maybe. Who knows? But for now, I am happy that I met him and I was able to express my affection. 

Oh, and the best thing about it is, if he's a drug, I didn't have a "rebound" phenomenon. <scroll up if you forgot what that meant>

No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this blog post. 

All photos were taken from Stock Xchnge. 

The One with the Thursday Trips

For a person hitting his/her 30s, sometimes, you face questions about your career, your marital status, your weight and your lifestyle. You rarely get questions about your faith, unless you're friends with devout and zealous church-goers. More often than not, people tend to ask you more about your earthly definition of happiness, truth and faith more than you're asked about your afterlife. 

Back then, I always thought that heaven is a system of earning brownies points. Do a good deed and keep it in a spiritual bank account, save it up and life with God and the angels would be a certainty. I think a lot of people have that same concept. We often think that there's a million ways to get to heaven and a lot less ways to get into hell. We always have a concept that God is loving and forgiving, so we try to do good, and be good. Now, I think I know better. 

People often go to church, but they're still trying to figure out their faith.

The one thing I often don't understand is how people from various sects and religions often criticize those that don't belong to their faith. People yoking with unbelievers is often unheard of in certain beliefs. It's an issue when it comes to marriage, jobs and for some people, even friends. 

With Jessie and Candy in this place we call "Liempuhan". 

Jessie, Candy and I go to this church called St. Jude in Manila. We either eat first, then we go to church, or we go to church first and eat. It's a combination of everything - reflections on the day, the week, the year, then a slightly spiritual experience that you tend to want after a long day.

Interior of the church, here for the novena. 

The church is so bright, with beautiful stained glass windows. 

More of the interior. 

Excellently executed altar. 

The last homily I heard from the parish priest was about lepers. Those lepers from the time of Christ have to leave their homes, their families and wear a sign that says to the world that they need to be feared and isolated. Sometimes, everyone feels like a leper. We sometimes tend to feel alone and that no one would be there to care for us. Sometimes, life is a bully and so are the people that surround us. 

I wonder if, on the flip side, those that tend to point their fingers ever wonder about being bullies themselves. I have had people telling me that what I do is wrong, that I'm evil and that I will go to hell. People tend to be self-righteous when they feel like they have done everything you just have to do. I have been a leper and I probably still am in those people's eyes. 

The other day, I had my brush with this type of bullying. A person knocked on the door and asked me if I wanted to be saved by God's power. I said my thanks and told him it's ok. He remained on the door and said "Kapatid, mas mainam kung makikinig ka sa totoong Diyos Ama, at wag maniniwala sa iba." <read: Sister, it's better if you listen to the real Heavenly Father and don't believe in others...>

I'm not a very "religious" person. I'm not self-righteous and I certainly welcome any type of faith. I have no right to tell anyone what kind of faith or belief they should be practicing. I'm just glad I live at a time and a place where you can practice what feels right. Everyone has their own beliefs and I'm glad I am keeping my own. 

Note: No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this post. Pictures that were not taken by **meg** were obtained legally from Stock Xchng. 

Candy is a blog author herself. Read riveting revelations about Candy on her blog. 

The One with the Baby

Last Saturday, I was able to see my long-time (as in long-time, like since Nursery, man!) friend. Cym. She's is married with 2 kids, the eldest Ela being my godchild.

I have always loved kids. I even taught in an Episcopalian church during weekends about a decade ago so I can curb my need to be around children (that just made me sound like a total perv) but there's this "maternal yearning" to be around children. I find them cute, adorable, lovable... and yes, even the screaming ones.

Caleb smiling... 

Cym helping Ela with her homework. 

Who won't love that smile? 

Around 4 years ago, I was diagnosed with a condition called PCOS (Polycystic Ovary Syndrome). It's not life-threatening. I just remember that I was told five things:

1. Good luck having babies but they can help me out when I'm ready. I was given pamphlets and brochures on assisted fertilization.
2. I was told to expect weight gain (As if I wasn't fat enough at that time). I remember being told that no matter what I do, I will gain weight. So, there's no use fighting it. Just love the skin you're in.
3. I was told to cut back on the sugar (no more sugary treats from Starbucks or Coffee Bean).
4. I had to take a plethora of medications. Some of which aggravated headaches, made me nauseated every darned time, let me retain so much water that I felt bloated every day and some even caused me a lot of mood swings!
5. I had to undergo an invasive diagnostic test every 6 months to check how well the medication was doing.

Remember that 4 years ago, not much was known about this disease. Doctors would pretty much ascribe what I had to something related to the pituitary gland, obesity, diabetes or anything to that effect. So religiously, I would go to the doctor, undergo the invasive diagnostic test and lie as quietly (without shaking so badly) as I can while they check my internal organs for more damage.

Last December 28th, I visited my doctor once more.

I got a clean bill of health - well, not really free and clear, because I was a very good patient, a good number of unruptured follicles have gone. There's only 3 left on both ovaries, unlike when they started testing for my follicles and I had about 20 for each ovary (yes kids, there are two ovaries, the left and the right...).  This meant that I can now have kids, I can finally try to lose weight and there might be some results and more importantly, they have weaned me off a lot of the medications that caused nausea, mood swings and severe bloating (yay for skinny jeans!).

During the diagnostic procedure, my doctor told me in her old rich Filipino accent, "Finally, after years of treating you, you can now have babies... eh paano yan, single ka na... <read: Too bad you're single now> Well you know, you can get sperm donors now. I can tell my other doctor friends noh.".

Ah such is irony.

For now, I'll live vicariously through my friends.

The One with the Sexy Back

Something I want to share with everyone. A post from a long time ago. This was on my Multiply page, composed on November 21, 2007.

My Disclaimer: Have you read a Jessica Zafra essay? Well, this is one of them. Self-mockery, to my belief, is the best form of flattery. To people who are faint-hearted, easily insulted and lack the sense of humor I need for my audience may very well just stop reading from this period on. Thanks!


I can't sleep. I've been up since 4 in the morning, trying to get some shut-eye. I can't believe that I'm still not asleep... So I'm cuddling with my laptop, wondering what the heck to write about when I chanced upon a sexy picture of Rose Byrne and Brad Pitt from the movie Troy.

From livingco.tv.uk. Brad Pitt and Rose Byrne in the movie "Troy".
Damn he's hot. 

I just sort of realized that the media is full of sexy images. And a girl needs to do everything to sort of catch up. I guess this is the reason why Anne Hathaway had to take her clothes off, or why we make such icons out of Pamela Anderson and Paris Hilton, both of which had their own homemade videos to sell online.

So, if we look up to these icons, and men worship them, how's a normal everyday 20-something clod to compare? I mean, I am definitely no Paris Hilton, nor am I near Pamela Anderson. I am most definitely not a Selma Blair, a Sienna Miller or Mandy Moore. I am an Alex Borstein in a world of Drew Barrymores and Demi Moores. Am I making any sense? I guess what I'm saying is I'm a fat, bloated woman in a world of women who took the 60-day fab-abs challenge and won! Makes you want to rethink fitting into a nice dress for work tonight eh?

The thing is, I never really see myself as someone who should be worried about the way she looks. I am perfectly happy with the way I look. I am surrounded by beautiful, smart and darn right sexy women who sort of experience the same insecurity as I do. Some think that their tummy is bigger than their boobs, some think that their boobs are too small, some think that their thighs are as huge as Meralco posts. Honestly, the list goes on and on and on and on and on... and women tend to be as petty as possible. I remember a friend actually telling me that she'll sell her soul to have abs like one of the models we worked with on a photo shoot. I was an apprentice stylist then, and when I was indeed dressing Miss Patches (people who actually style other people, I think you know what I mean...), she bluntly told me "Pangit ng skin ko noh?! Buti pa yung skin mo, ang puti-puti..." <read: her skin is worse than mine, my skin is whiter.... In the Philippines, whiter skin is more favored, I guess?>

So what am I about to say... Yeah, somehow, for some oddball reason, when you look at someone else, there's always something of them you wish you had. I want to have Rose Byrne's face. I want to have Demi Moore's figure. I want to have Mandy Moore's eyes. I want to have Hayden Panettiere's skin. I want to be as cool as Avril Lavigne. And of course, when all else fails, I want to have Pamela Anderson's body. So, what am I doing to achieve any of these things? Nothing.

I think there's just an endless plethora of things to work on as a person. I can have my teeth whitened and have a tummy tuck... I can probably go for an overhaul. But you  know what, no... I believe that in some weird forsaken tribes in the Amazon, women like me, bring the sexy back to the tribe and I rule... :)

I'm absolutely bringing sexy back... Hahaha! 

The One with the Undateable Meg

Disclaimer: 

This was written in the purpose of poking fun at what happened to me recently. I was hanging out with a "couple friend" and they were trying to pair a tall Information Technology guy with my petite Foreign Affairs Liaison girl friend while I was sitting right across the table - the plus-size Instructional Design goddess (and my mother agrees so I don't care what you think....lolz!). My mind was actually screaming the word propinquity but hey, why say it when I can just blog about it? 

I was hanging out at a coffee shop the other day with a few friends. Two of them, a married couple and one single chick. We were a fearsome foursome as one by one, law students from a nearby grad school started leaving our area. I think they were bothered by how loud and despicable our conversation was getting. 

Fact 1: Couples love to hook people up. 

Wife: Oh I think my friend Mel would love to go out with Harry. She's been pretty bummed about being single.
Husband: They're perfect together, Mel has cats and Harry has a one-man armpit band! *snickers* 

You're not an established couple until you have done the following: 

1. Fought over dishes. 

2. Scrubbed a kitchen or bathroom floor cos you're just plain disgusted - and it's not done out of love 

3. Hooked up his old high school/college/pro-football buddy with her old high school/college/tap dance classmate at the Y (or vice versa, but yikes, wifey played pro-football?!)

4. Decided on which way you're going to raise your kids (disciplinarian dad and maternal mum VS doting dad and meticulous mom) 

5. Established what religion you will follow

So, number 3 is always - ALWAYS - something that happens. I'm pretty happy I have tons of married and non-single friends cos they really tend to hook you up. Sometimes with the weirdest, wildest and most unthinkable matches, down to the macabre, scary and disturbing ones. Yes, I was once paired with someone who told me that if you stab someone's liver, the guy would die if 15 minutes lapses OR black blood comes out, whichever comes first. Yeah, my reaction was... "Uhm, you like livers pala <read: apparently>?!" The guy never called me back. 

So lo and behold, when they were talking about a guy, let's call him Mr. I (as in I think I may have missed my chance with you, but hey, let's put it out there for the world to know Mr. I), I thought, oh well, perfect, I just need to meet said guy and I'll be either one boyfriend nearer to my goal of finding "the one" or I have meet Mr. I and he can teach me something about love and life and maybe we'll best friends. 

The couple wanted Mr. I to meet my other single friend. 

Normally, I would taken offense and said, well what about me says I'm undateable (if such a term exists)?

1. I'm not desperate - yeah I write a blog about being single but it doesn't mean I'm advertising myself for the world to see... (Hmn, if anyone's interested, please PM me your number.) But I got standards... (Must be male, at least 5'7 in height, with a pleasing personality) and morals (Must know how to explain filial piety) and smarts (Must know how to switch a computer on). 

2. I earn money, a little at a time, but I do! 

3. I am smart (Did you read the word propinquity up in the disclaimer? Yeah...I use it a lot, like ostensibly or something...) 

Fact 2: Couples will try to explain as a unit why they decided to not hook YOU up. 

There are a million reasons why you can be perfect for someone but there's only one reason why you can't be hooked up with someone... 

Wife: Yeesh, I told you she'd be touchy about it.
Husband: Yeah, yeah, yeah... I'm trying to come up with a way to get out of it...  Yeesh! 

And I never found it cos we had to go home. It was pretty late. Anti-climactic huh? Did I mention that I'm freaky smart? Like ostensibly? 

Ending disclaimer (ie: this is the real blog post):

I really don't mind being unable to date anyone at this point. There's a ton of things I want to do with the free time that I have. I want to write and express myself, I want to find my passion and I want to fuel me. I want something to drive me and I really want that to be me (Like ostensibly! Lolz... BTW, I know what ostensibly means after looking it up and reading it 3x). I just fear sometimes that even my friends think I'm undateable. 

Another Disclaimer: 

No photographers were harmed intellectually during the making of this blog post. 

All pictures legally came from Stock Xchnge. 

The One with the Boys

So along the lines of being single is also dealing with the constant (hmn...) barrage of men. Don't get me wrong, they're not at my doorstep, trying to get my attention. In fact, quite the contrary, I'm trying to get theirs. Hahaha!

When I first became VERY single in June, the thought of even trying to find someone to date was virtually impossible. I was very repulsed with the idea of even dating or going out with someone, but well, here I am now. I am coming up with my elusive and reclusive hot men of 2011...

Ladies, are you ready for this?

One of the guys I have been fantasizing about for ages is...

Dean Cain

Why yes, believe it or not, I have this terrible crush on Dean Cain. I never got over the "Lois and Clark" days. You can call him the B-movie guy, you can call him a washed-up actor but to me, just one look at those smoldering eyes and it's enough to make me melt. This man is smart... He attended Princeton and founded his own company called "Angry Dragon Entertainment" in 1998.

Another man I will not deny a crush on is this guy...

Zachary Levi makes me sooo... happy! 

Yes, you met him on "Less than Perfect", and now you know him as "Chuck". He's such a talented and fun and amazing actor that he ventured into singing.

Don't believe me? You'd have to be living in a cave to not know this song by now...

If your heart hasn't melted with a guy that can totally say he's into Jesus Christ, drives a Nissan GT-R for fun, can sing, has his own company and is smart enough to retain a character so loved and adored all over the world, then well... I have another one for you...

I'd marry him in a heartbeat! 

Swoon! Notice anything similar? Let me know cos I haven't figured it out yet.

The One with the Last Day of Not Working

I filed for a time-off today. I think I sincerely deserve a break. There's no point arguing. To me, I'm the single most hard-working person on earth.

I cleaned up today. I made sure that my room is clean. I am back to sleeping in my room! (Yay, Meg = 1, Insanity due to a break-up = 0!) I can't wait to stretch my back and neck and finally sleep in my soft bed, with 4 of my pillows (all newly dressed in pastel stripes). I am a happier person for trying to sleep in my bed.

Since I had more time to spare, I met up with a dear friend, Chloe for a nice dinner in Midtown.

Went to Robinson's Midtown for some Al Fresco Dining. 

Went to Icebergs cos we wanted something new. 

Some Deviled Chops (soaking in some honey dijon mustard which made it so darned spicy and yummy and oh so tender...), Buttered Corn and Country Fries. Yum-O! 

Chloe had a single taco. She's on a diet (hahaha!) Nah, she ate dinner before meeting up with me.
Damn, keep in mind I haven't had lunch yet. 

In between our dinner, we had to talk heart-to-heart about hope. Is there hope after a break-up? Should you hope? Is there a need to believe that you and your ex can be together again, or should there be a cease-and-desist order to believing that you and your ex can actually be together.

My answer is simple. You can hope but you can't expect.

Don't get me wrong, I have absolutely no hope and no expectations from my ex. I think some people are really better off as friends. But in other people's case, no one can tell them otherwise. My only principle about love is that no one has the ability or the right to tell you that it's not possible or that it's enough. That's your freakin' universe. No one should have the right to tell you to stop talking about it, stop believing it, stop hoping, stop wishing or stop crying. I think ultimately, whomever has the broken heart will want to mend it themselves.

We wanted to get drinks afterwards. Since I don't drink alcohol anymore (and it's a conscious decision everyday), I said I just wanted to get dessert. We went to Moon River but they're about to close. We headed off to Caffeina after an order of creamy White Russian for Chloe.

That's a hot chick right there. 

Had a carrot cake. It's topped with some meringue and pecan. 

I had a cup of cafe latte, with a swig of vanilla syrup... Chloe had a White Russian from Moon River. 

Caffeina has the look and feel of a Christmas living room. I didn't want to seem weird, whipping out my bulky cam to capture the room. But in the comfy, cozy, living room, we decided to pursue the conversation a little bit more.

We talked about what I miss from being in a relationship. I never really told her what I do to make sure I get through the days when the depression hits hard... I sleep.

Good night!

The One with the 2011 Wish List

I promised myself that I'd come up with a "bucket list" every month.

If this was my last year to live, I'd want to say that I lived a fab, wonderful life.

So here are the things that would make me happier...for 2011...

1. My family to be healthier... Nothing can beat that! They're already healthy enough as is.

2. My friends to remain by my side no matter how difficult, different or disoriented I or they may be. (I totally hate losing friends). And for me to remain by their side no matter what.

Cos they make you laugh, smile, amused, bemused...
At Presidio, with Aileen and Yogi 

Cos they make work (no matter how awful and tiring) seem like a lot of fun!
With Belle and Jessie at Sentro. We actually have Candy with us, but she wanted her own solo shot, hahaha! 

Cos you wanna celebrate their birthdays with them, and you wanna celebrate yours with them too.
At Discovery Suites, with Aileen, Arnel, Michelle, Libby, Matt, Anne, Alvin and Yogi 

Cos random drinking sessions feel and look better with you dressed up as punks... Hahaha
At Icon, with Iris, Candy and Russell 

Cos every milestone counts.
At Medical City, visiting my godson, Xander for the first time, while mom Aileen and dad Arnel looks on. 

Cos you just know that some friendships last a lifetime.
At MOA with Cym, Irish, Mary and Chloe 

3. Higher pay!
Yeah, good luck with that...

4. Get a Jaguar - fine, fine a Sorento would do!

5. Set-up a small business.

6. Take my masters degree in Developmental Communication, or Pharmacology. It's a toss up. :)

7. Be healthier - less smokes, no more alcohol, fruits and veggies and more fish!

8. Be nicer to people.

9. Live large (Hahaha, not the size, but really live large, go Lasertagging, go to a Casino, have fun parties, go get coffee with old and new friends, attend Cosplay and have a kick-ass 30th birthday party!)

Number 10 is for me to know and hopefully, one person to find out. Hahaha... Singledom is fabulous! Watch out for my posts on Bucket Lists*. I'll add photos of when I get to do them all. ;)

*I promise to publish all bucket lists for the other months. This is gonna be...legendary! 

Have a wonderful start of the year, followers! :)