So Unsexy by Alanis Morissette

I can feel so unsexy for someone so beautiful
So unloved for someone so fine
I can feel so boring for someone so interesting
So ignorant for someone of sound mind

Oh these little protections how they fail to serve me
One forgotten phone call and I’m deflated
Oh these little defenses how they fail to comfort me
Your hand pulling away and I’m devastated

When will you stop leaving baby?
When will I stop deserting baby?
When will I start staying with myself?

 

 

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Easter Sunday And All Things Celebratory

Photo source: coolwindsresidences.com

Photo source: coolwindsresidences.com

My Mom was a devout catholic and raised us to observe the lenten tradition. Easter Sunday is widely celebrated in the whole christendom and I remember my Mom waking us up at dawn and dragging us to church for the “sugat” (in Waray) or “salubong” in Tagalog. The event includes Virgin Mary meeting/reuniting with the resurrected Christ with young girls in white singing hymns and throwing flowers to the parishioners. When I was in fifth and sixth grade, I became one of those girls. I remember being so excited to wear a white dress and carry my little basket of flowers like a three-year old flower girl in a wedding.

Just like many catholics (or Christians, for that matter). the whole meaning of Easter was lost on me. To me, Easter marks the end of lent, meaning we can eat meat again and that it was the culmination of the weeklong prayer vigils, stations of the cross, novenas and processions.Surely, those are more than enough reasons for a celebration. The resurrection of Christ is still a mystery to me as is his death and its significance. They keep saying we are celebrating the living God, the ever loving God, the one who loves us unconditionally and has given up His life so that we may be saved.

I want to celebrate Easter the way I did when I was 10 and was wearing a white dress and carrying a basket of flowers. But I can’t. I’m way past innocence and has mourned the church I grew up in. Why is the church who preaches about love condemns the gays? Why wouldn’t it allow women to have choices regarding their own health and well being? Why is it covering up its own transgressions? How can they continue protecting the priests and other church officials who have molested children? How can the church be so wealthy when they preach about being humble and meek and renouncing worldly possessions?

Photo source: gstatic.com

Photo source: gstatic.com

Easter is a new beginning. New beginnings give us hope. Hope is the light that guides us in the darkness that we live in. When everything else is gray and cold, we can hold on to that hope. We can hope that one day things will change for the better. We can hope that one day we would be closer to equality. But until then, we have to do our share and stop bigotry, condemn abuses and respect women and their choices. And when that day comes, I’d probably wear a white dress and carry a basket of flowers.

Happy Easter, everyone!

Real by Plumb

Well be pleased, world
If this is what you wanted
This young girl is everything that you made
What will she say?

Aren’t I lovely
And do you want me cause
I am hungry for something that will make me real
Can you see me and
Do you love me cause
I am desperately searching for something real.

Pictures Of The Drama Queen

I’m sorry

Photo source: likenooneslistening.buzznet.com

Photo source: likenooneslistening.buzznet.com

 

I was not really tired. In fact, I haven’t been doing much recently. You could say

Photo source: 0ketchup-freak0.deviantart.com

Photo source: 0ketchup-freak0.deviantart.com

 

Except that I still have tons of drafts in need of serious editing. It’s just that I’m

Photo source: benziboxstudios.com

Photo source: benziboxstudios.com

 

Probably caught up in a

Photo source: sundayboyfriend.blogspot.com

Photo source: sundayboyfriend.blogspot.com

 

Kind of

Photo source: lacot.org

Photo source: lacot.org

 

It’s not exactly

Photo source: barbaraleung.com

Photo source: barbaraleung.com

 

I will myself to think of

Photo source: 20px.com

Photo source: 20px.com

 

Hmm. So

Photo source: bajiroo.com

Photo source: bajiroo.com

 

I promise

Photo source: littlemomentsofbliss.blogspot.com

Photo source: littlemomentsofbliss.blogspot.com

 

 

 

PS. For Edzen. Baks, hang on. That, too, shall pass. xoxo

Let The Slow Clapping Commence

Photo courtesy of tumblr.com

Photo courtesy of tumblr.com

Greenbelt apparently is a haven for expats. And where there are expats, you will also find the — how should I say it delicately, uhmm, you know the girls in skimpy dresses or short shorts with matching f**k-me heels? But just to clarify, not all of them are prostitutes, the other half actually are girlfriends/wives of the expats.

Sunday night, my friend, Ryan and I decided to brave the rain for some much needed alcohol fix. We were supposed to meet at 10 at Distillery but apparently, they’re closed on Sundays. So then we headed to Greenbelt, which not surprisingly, was still abuzz. The rain has stopped then but the air was thick with humidity. My shirt was drenched in sweat and my hair stuck to my nape. I was in my usual shirt and sneakers combo. For someone on a nightout, I looked like I just finished an intense workout.

After a quick dinner at Cucina Andare (pretty much their version of banchetto) we went to look for a bar and settled for Spicy Fingers at Greenbelt 1. The place is nice if you’re into red decor and somewhat pricey drinks. Uhmm, yes, don’t go there wearing red. You’ll blend with the couches and you could easily be mistaken for a server and/or crew.

Quite naturally, Ryan and I surveyed the surroundings and realized that we were in a place crowded with expats and their significant others, Filipina dates/girlfriends/wives. Now this is the part where I have to duck because you’ll be throwing rocks and tomatoes at me but I would just have to put it out there. I’m one of those people who make fun of Filipinas with foreign partners, especially those with cringe-inducing older partners. My friends and I refer to said expats as “pangkabuhayan showcase.” I guess the nearest translation of that is a source of livelihood.

Of course, not all of these interracial relationships are fiscally motivated. I do have friends who have expat partners without the economic factor being the forefront of their love stories. For this post, I won’t be using the current nationwide statistics of these unions because I’m too lazy to research the numbers. Instead, I’ll use the crowd at Spicy Fingers.

So most of the couples there were American and European men, mostly middle aged with Pinay partners aged early 20s to mid-30s. Roughly. There were also a group of Indian couples with Filipino friends. Or maybe they were Turkish. We could hardly tell. There were only 3 tables expat-free, Mine and Ryan’s, a yuppy couple’s and a group of 4 girls. To be honest, we don’t really know the reputation of Spicy Fingers. For all we know, they’re really a famous hotspot for interracial nightouts. But anyway, Ryan and I couldn’t help talking about these couples. We both admitted we were being judgemental in thinking these women are all after money and/or getting out of the country. And at the height of meanness, every time we see a Pinay-expat couple with age/looks disparity, we would do the slow clap. Too much age disparity deserves a slow clap with standing ovation. That mean.

You see, Ryan and I truly are not just ignorant, prejudice pricks because soon after, we launched into a socio-economic discourse of these relationships. Yes, we poke fun at these Pinays but how many among us see them as women who gave up the traditional romantic notions and instead decided to be pragmatic and made sacrifices just to provide for their family, help send their siblings to school, help a sickly relative get proper medical treatment, help parents build a house with a roof that could withstand typhoons and so on and so forth. Isn’t that noble than, say, marrying your childhood sweetheart and still asking money from your parents because you’re short on rent? Of course, I’m not saying that my example is a representative of most Filipino couples. What I’m trying to point out is that my Filipino couple example isn’t a butt of jokes, but those interracial relationships are.

I can’t help feeling sad looking at these girls who were mostly my age. Can you imagine being young and sleeping next to someone older than your father? How about relocating to your husband’s place where the sun does not show up for months? Most of all, how would you feel knowing that your family and friends talk behind your back about how you married your husband so you could get a green card and/or send your brother to college. Also, as is always being pointed out, these women actually help the economy, mainly due to remittance.

But I really shouldn’t feel bad for these women. What do I really know about what they think when they lie at night? Why do I even think that they are sad and wish for a different life? For all I know, as they lie next to their husbands at night, the last thoughts they have before drifting to sleep is how grateful they are for the life they live.

I don’t want to preach about how we should probably lay off on the jokes and the slow clapping. It’s not my place to do so. Besides, I know I’m still gonna make the jokes and do the slow clap. But I hope we try to see them in a different light, too. How about respect for their choice? How about appreciation for their wisdom and courage? But geez, I wish they would lay off on the skimpy dresses and the stripper heels.

 

*For Tasos. When I fell for you, the thought of you building my parents a big house in the province didn’t even cross my mind. I did daydream though of us and blue-eyed kids in a classic Greek house. Lol.

Unwritten by Natasha Bedingfield

I am unwritten, can’t read my mind, I’m undefined
I’m just beginning, the pen’s in my hand, ending unplanned

Feel the rain on your skin
No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in
No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten

I break tradition, sometimes my tries, are outside the lines
We’ve been conditioned to not make mistakes, but I can’t live that way

 

PS. Happy Monday, you guys.

 

A Vicious Cycle

The cycle is hard to break. The shame in that admission consumes you.
The memories weigh heavy on your soul. What did you do to deserve this?
The tears don’t come no more. Instead, a dark shadow haunts your gaze.
You are young but weary, your bones creaking to the weight of your solitude.
The darkness will soon have to give way for the sunrise. But how can you appreciate the burst of colors if you keep your gaze down.
Time has long deserted you. The days are all the same.
They come and they go and you are stuck in a place where the past, the present and the future is a haunting ballad on a loop.
Time is a box of matte black and white photographs that remind you of a happier time and a dull ache that never goes away.
Someday, somehow, you have got to stop giving him the power to hurt you.

 

 

 

Random Friday List

1. Internet connection at home is back, hence, order has been restored.

2. The boyfriend and I are having a kickass Friday, except I don’t have a boyfriend and I’m stuck at the office.

Photo courtesy of juanrepublic.tumblr.com

Photo courtesy of juanrepublic.tumblr.com

3. Kris Aquino is a famewhore, has a victim complex and thinks she’s all that. Wait, did I just describe myself? Seriously, her problems are not a national issue. Let’s get back to the most pressing ones and get them addressed. Hello, Sabah, Kristel Tejada, national elections?

4. I’ve noticed an increase of homeless people on my daily route from work to the train station. Most of them are kids, which just makes it all the more depressing.

5. Chinua Achebe died today. I have yet to read Things Fall Apart but I have loved No Longer At Ease, mainly because the protagonist is an anti-hero. He never got a Nobel Prize but he’s one of the greatest people who ever walked on earth, I think.

Photo courtesy of tumblr.themostinterestingmanintheworld.create

Photo courtesy of tumblr.themostinterestingmanintheworld.create

6. I’ve always looked down on office relationships but I wouldn’t mind a love story such as Chinua’s and his wife’s, which started when they were colleagues.

7. There’s this guy I have a huge crush on and I told him that we’re not friends because, as a rule, I don’t do friends. Y’know what I mean? It’s been, what, seven years, and we’re still friends with no benefits whatsoever. Yes, this is how miserable my life is.

Photo courtesy of troll.me

Photo courtesy of troll.me

8. People think that I have high standards for a guy. I don’t know how they came up with that. My glasses? My baggy pants? The only thing I require from a man is for him to genuinely like me. I wish this was a joke.

9. No matter what you say, the songs from the 90s and early 2000s are the ones I’ll never get tired listening to.

Photo courtesy of pizzaliciousblog.blogspot.com

Photo courtesy of pizzaliciousblog.blogspot.com

10. No one comes between me and pizza. And I mean, no one. But if you’re a hot bald guy, I’ll let you take a bite.

This One’s For The Girls by Martina McBride

This video has got one of the most awkward dance moves I’ve ever seen. Yeah, this one’s old but Martina’s really pretty and I love her more for this song.

This one’s for the girls
Who’ve ever had a broken heart
Who’ve wished upon a shooting star
You’re beautiful the way you are
This one’s for the girls
Who love without holding back
Who dream with everything they have
All around the world
This one’s for the girls

Buses and Trains by Bachelor Girl

So I walked under a bus
I got hit by a train
Keep falling in love
Which is kinda the same
I’ve sunk out at sea
Crashed my car, gone insane
And it felt so good
I want to do it again

Hey Mom
Why didn’t you warn me
Coz about boys is something i should have known
They`re like chocolate cake
Like cigarettes
I know they’re bad for me
But I just can’t leave ’em alone