#throwback

 

bittersweet

bittersweet

January 8, 2015

I was going over my blogs from around 4 1/2 years ago– back when I was just starting to blog regularly, and yes, I hardly had any readers — and I chanced upon an entry entitled Flashbacks.

It was about a love story that did not find its happy ending.

The story happened some 20 years ago. I wrote this blog in 2010. Apologies for reposting, but do indulge me. Let’s just call this the #throwbackthursday entry.

*****

Flashbacks

Sometimes i can’t help but marvel at how modern technology just made everything easier– and the world much smaller — for us.

About 16 years ago, I had a relationship with this guy who lives at the other side of the world.  He came here for a vacation… and found me, instead.  The irony is, we met a month before he was supposed to go back to his homeland and we started dating a week before his departure.  So obviously, ours ended up being a long distance relationship. We were so in love then and we promised that we would make it work, distance or no distance.

It was 1994 and we still had to depend on snail mail.  Snail mail and Fedex.  Every two weeks, we would expect a letter or a package waiting at our respective doorsteps.  We spent a fortune at long distance calls, too.  We would talk on the phone every weekend for about an hour (sometimes, two).  This went on for six months (which at that time seemed like an eternity).  Then he flew back here for Christmas, stayed here for a couple of months, then went back home with the promise that we will make the long distance relationship last…

… and then he was gone.  Gone forever.

No, he did not die or anything.  We just proved that long distance relationships, well, never really go the distance (pardon the pun, please).  We pretty much showed everybody that no matter how “in love” two people are, the distance between them can really take its toll.  I think it took all of three months after he left the second time when we came to the realization that it was difficult.  Actually, he came to that realization first (and was too immature not to tell me)… ergo, the relationship basically ended badly — with me cursing him to high heavens, that is.  So basically, he could have just died and i wouldn’t have minded at that time (that was me being mature about the break up).

But i digress.  Point is, fast forward 16 years later, present day 2010… Because of the world wide web, because of YM, emails, facebook, webcams, text messages and cellphone calls that don’t cost a fortune,  we are now in touch with people who are at the other side of the world.  My best friend/person lives at the other side of the world, too, and I chat with her almost every day.  My friends and relatives who are in countries of different time zones are always updated about the news and happenings here.  In real time.  It’s a small world, after all.

Sometimes I do wonder whether my relationship with the guy would have lasted if we had all these communication tools then.  Maybe we wouldn’t have felt the distance right away.  Perhaps it wouldn’t have felt like we were having an affair with a piece of paper.  Though it would probably be like having a virtual relationship (or having a relationship with the computer), well at least the other party answers back fast… no need to wait for two weeks.

But then long distance is still long distance.  It’s still upto the people involved whether they will let the distance get in the way… or work on the relationship until they are together once more.

In case you are wondering what happened to long distance-guy… Well, we found each other in facebook a couple of years ago.  Yeah, who would have thought.  But then 16years is a long time, and people change.  I guess you pretty much have an idea how it went…

It went nowhere. 

******

It’s Mr. 1994’s birthday tomorrow, January 9. Yes, I still remember 🙂

*****

Photo via yahoo images

Mr. Ken Doll

Ken needs a Supergoddess Barbie

Ken needs a Supergoddess Barbie

He was a male model… He did tv commercials, but he mostly did ramp.  He was goodlooking — in a boyish way.  He was tall, he had this really dazzling smile… and a really hot bod.  He was like a Ken doll.

He was a good friend of a boyfriend.  Boyfriend used to do some modelling as well, so naturally he hang out with fellow models.  That was how I met Mr. Ken doll.

When boyfriend left the country, I stayed in touch with some of his friends.   When boyfriend eventually became an ex, Mr. Ken doll expressed interest in dating me… but didn’t really know if it was the right thing to do since I was the girlfriend of a good friend.  It didn’t seem right.  It was like crossing a boundary.

We did go out several times.  We talked a lot.  We laughed.  We flirted.  We watched basketball games together.  We talked about our favorites — his was carrot cake, mine was coffee.  We had a good time.

I liked being seen with him because he was a Ken doll… and I felt like I was Barbie.  I was living very girl’s dream.  I was every girl’s source of envy.

Going out with Ken made me forget about the heartbreak caused by long-distance boyfriend.  I thought being with another goodlooking guy will fill the void left by an ex.  In a way, it did.  It did make me forget… but only for a short while.

Somehow the thrill of being with Ken was fleeting.

One night, I just suddenly realized that Ken and I didn’t have anything in common.  I tried to dig deep to feel something towards him… some love or deep affection… yet I didn’t find any.  There was fondness, yes, but that was just it.  Nothing more.

Perhaps the only connection we truly had was the memory of my ex-boyfriend… his ex-friend.

We parted ways amicably.  No tears, no drama.  I never wondered what “could have been” because I knew Ken and I weren’t meant to be.

What I learned from the whole Ken experience is this:  You really cannot force yourself to love — or even just like, LIKE — someone if your heart isn’t there.  You cannot force yourself to feel a certain way towards someone.  Or even if you do try, in your heart of hearts, you would know that you’re not fooling anybody else but yourself.

Kissing Ken may have been fun, but it didn’t make me his Barbie.  He didn’t turn out to be my Prince Charming, too.  Good thing we were both mature enough not to pretend we were something we weren’t.

Some things are really just not meant to be.

It’s Ken’s birthday today.  And his real name’s Ron.

*** *** *** *** ***

photo via google images

 

 

Dreaming of Rome

Love. Rome. Josh.

Love. Rome. Josh.

I had the chance to sit in front of the tv this morning — and actually watch a movie.   I ended up watching “When in Rome”  a movie that starred Kristen Bell and Josh Duhamel.

Sometimes I feel like I’m too old to watch chick flicks.  I mean being a mom, as well as being someone’s partner, somehow make me feel embarrassed to gush over fairy tale movies and Prince Charmings (…but come on, how can one NOT gush over Josh Duhamel?).  It just didn’t seem right.  It seemed pretty juvenile.

But there I was at nine o’clock in the morning watching a funny love story that made me wish that I can go to Rome anytime soon… and that all love stories are magical and stay magical… and that I can have a magical love story with Josh Duhamel. 

An hour and a half later, realization struck… I am not going to Rome anytime soon… love stories may start magical yet they don’t always stay that way… and bummer of all bummers, Josh already has Fergie.   My reality is simply just not as exciting.  No wonder I don’t like watching chick flicks!

I had to check myself before I got totally depressed about the whole thing.  This normally happens whenever I watch feel good movies… I end up not feeling good about where I am.

And then the wise and sensible ME took over.  Sure, I may not be going to Rome anytime soon… but that doesn’t mean I can’t go to Rome in this lifetime.  I have always wanted to see Italy… I wanted to see not just Rome, but Venice and Tuscany, as well.  I will include that trip in my bucket list.  No need to feel bad about something that I can do something about (even if it means having some major saving up to do to be able to go on that trip!)

Okay, so maybe not all love stories have fairy tale endings.  Maybe I have lost that magical feeling  somewhere between balancing checkbooks and washing the dishes.  Maybe the day to day, mundane activities have squeezed all the magic out of me.  Yet that doesn’t mean I cannot anymore be the sweet, loving person that I was  when I was much, much younger.  I may have gotten older,  but I’m not ancient… I still am capable of expressing my emotions.  Though at times I may seem to be functioning on auto-pilot, I can still easily snap out of it if I do want to.

The thing is, real life is NOT always magical.  We have to work for it if we want to sustain that magic.  And I truly believe that when you work for something, all the more you will not let that thing dissipate just like that.  You take more care of what you have invested time, effort and love in, than things — or people– you never shared anything of yourself with.

Fairy tale endings?  Well, as long as we are on this earth, we can direct our paths to that fairy tale ending that we all long for.  Hope springs eternal.

A few hours of movie watching do take us away from our realities, even for sometime.  It can be nice… can even give you a fresh perspective on things.  But at the end of the day, real life is still more interesting… more exciting…

Because in your reality, you are the lead… always.  And you can choose your happy ending… always.

PS… Okay, so maybe I won’t have a fairy tale ending or a magical anything with Josh Duhamel in this lifetime. But in the movie version of MY life, he will definitely play a part.   

*** *** *** *** ***

photo via google images, When in Rome (2010)

Butterflies in my stomach… A Love Story

mr. ballplayer

my mr. ballplayer

He was a college basketball superstar.  Such a dreamboat.  He didn’t know me then, but I used to watch his games and pine for him.  Although we were batchmates, we were never introduced.  My young self was “loving” him from afar. 

Being Mr. Popular, I knew he wouldn’t really notice me.  Not when a lot of other girls are fawning over him.  I was but one of his fans.

We  were (finally) introduced several months after we graduated.  I was already working then and I guess the ‘corporate’  look made him notice me more.  I was no longer an immature ‘nameless fan.’     I became someone interesting enough to date.

He was a sweet guy.  His college basketball superstar status made people believe that he was unreachable, difficult to talk to… yet he really wasn’t.  He was pretty down to earth.  But given his appeal, I knew that a lot of other girls are dying to date him — much like I was back in college.  And so I also knew that whatever we had wouldn’t last.

I was so young then.  I wasn’t looking for a serious relationship.  I knew that if my heart was to be broken, it might as well be by someone I insanely liked. 

At that moment in time I knew he liked me back.

Little things made me feel special… Like that time when he came over to my place unannounced at ten pm, after a basketball game (he was already playing in an amateur league).  When I asked why, the only reason he could think of was that — he wanted to see me, and that he just kept driving ’til he got to my house… And then there was a time when we were waiting for a movie to begin, and he started singing “It Might be You” to my ear…  After dropping me off after a date, he would call me the moment he gets home and we would still talk on the phone until the wee hours of the morning… Sometimes we talked a lot about different things, at times we just stared at each other.

Seeing him always gave me the butterflies in the stomach sensation. 

On our last date, I distinctly remember his parting words.  As I was going down the car, he reached for my hand and said,  “I will call you.”

Several days passed, and I didn’t hear from him.  Days turned to weeks, weeks to months… still no word, no nothing.  No explanation.  He just disappeared.  I knew it was over. 

I was heartbroken, yes, but I pretty much expected that to happen so it didn’t hurt that long.

Several months later, I went to one of his ball games and he saw me.  We got to talk somewhat and we planned on seeing each other again the following day.  Maybe to iron things out, maybe to just plain hang out.   

I was staying at a friend’s house that night, and he said he will pick me up in the morning before he goes to training.  He said he was looking forward to spending the morning with me.

Something happened the following morning.  I had to leave really early, and since cellphones were still unheard of at that time,  contacting him proved to be so difficult.  Plus, I didn’t know that the previous night, when he asked for my friend’s home number, I managed to give him a wrong one.

We were finally able to talk again that afternoon when he got home from training.  He told me that he was looking for me the whole morning until he realized that I just led him on.  He said I did it on purpose to get back at him.

I can still remember the hurt and disappointment in his voice.  Mr. Player got played.  By me.

***

I never saw nor heard from him since.  Funny because I woke up this morning remembering that it’s his birthday today.

Although at that time, part of me was glad that it ended that way (he broke my heart, after all),  it’s not something that I am particularly proud of.  And sometimes there are people whom you would rather remember for the good moments that you shared together.  Memories that you know you will always preserve somewhere in the deep recesses of your mind.

Now, 18 years later, I do not dwell on the sour ending that we had.  Obviously we were not meant to end up together. 

But I do remember the butterflies.  And it’s enough to make me smile. 

 

*** *** *** ***

photos via weheartit.com 

Rejection in the Time of Facebook

Facebook Friend?

 

Have you ever rejected someone in Facebook? (That is, if you have a Facebook account.) 

If you do have an account then you know what I mean… You check your notifications one morning, then you find friend requests from people you don’t really know… or people you used to know in earlier life but never really talked to.  And so for a moment you contemplate on befriending them because, after all, you have matured and you are friendlier now.  Or maybe because the stranger’s profile picture looked just like George Clooney… oh wait, it IS George Clooney in the picture! Duh?!

Sometimes I feel bad not responding to someone’s friend request that I just let the invitation sit for, say, about six months… Okay, so maybe that person would have already figured out by now that I didn’t really want to accept the friend request.  Though at least technically I haven’t really rejected said person so I have no reason to feel guilty.  But then again, not confirming the request is pretty much telling.

Facebook friend wannabe

So am I a bad person if I hit the “ignore request” button? But then again, do I really want to be friends with Monsieur Delifrance from Paris or Mr. Macho-Wearing-Tank-Tops from uhm, the gym?  What about this high school classmate that I NEVER breathed a single word to, all those years we were classmates?  All I remember is that the boys used to tease him a lot.  And Mean Girl Me couldn’t help but laugh whenever they teased him (gimme a break, I was very young then!).  And then now this guy wants us to be Facebook friends.  If I hit the ignore button, then it’s like rejecting him all over again. 

Now I feel just like JLo (yes, the new American Idol judge).  We both just can’t say NO.  Watch American Idol auditions and you will know what I am talking about.  (This is not a paid advertisement for AI, you don’t really have to watch the show if it’s not your thing.)

Back to Facebook.  What I am saying is, nobody likes being rejected.  Unfortunately, while to some people Facebook is a great way to ‘find’ friends, well it can also be an avenue to reject people. 

Facebook friend hottie

But of course, you can’t say yes to all friend requests, especially the ones coming from total strangers.  They may look hot and yummy (did I just say yummy?!), but didn’t mother tell you not to talk to strangers??  I guess Mr. H & Y wouldn’t mind being rejected.  Besides, even if he does mind, you don’t really know him so who cares, right?

What about Mr. High School Teased-a-Lot?  Is it right to reject his invite?  But when I think about it, do I really want to know his status updates? Do I really care?? And if I see him walking somewhere, will I even smile or say hi to him (like Facebook friendship gives you a connection). I think not.  I don’t even how he looks like now (no photo uploaded), so I wouldn’t know if it’s him. What’s the point, right?  

Several months ago I received a friend request from another high school classmate (let’s call him Mr. Teased-a-Lot #2).  Despite the same misgivings (I didn’t really know him, I never talked to him before, etc), I accepted the request.  Funny thing was, the profile photo he uploaded was the picture of the wrestler Batista. Yey, I am now friends with Batista.  Maybe I can smile at him (Batista) when I bump into him.  See?! What’s the point in being Facebook friends with someone you don’t really know anything about?  

Facebook friend ferret

The next time I checked, his profile picture was a ferret. Great, I’m friends with a ferret.  Now I am thinking of ‘defriending’ the ferret, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings.

Rejection.  Some people really just ask for it.

Truth be told, I can only think of one Facebook rejection that I had.  Back when I was pretty new in Facebook, I sent friend requests to friends (and not really friends) both from high school and college.  I remember sending this guy (an old college crush) a friend request thinking that he knew me from school anyway – because I was always stalking him (haha, that was a joke, of course!!).   Seriously, at some point in our college lives, we talked a few times. And so I was just being friendly. And mature.  Yeah right.

Two and a half years later (that means today), my friend request is still probably sitting—or rotting – in his friend request box.  Or maybe he has ignored it the moment he saw it.  So there, I was rejected in college… twenty years later, I was rejected once again, this time, in Facebook.  How fun is that?

A Goddess Rejected

Because I don’t do well with rejection, I stopped inviting people to be my Facebook friends.  As much as it pains me (such drama!) to hit the ignore button on someone’s invite, my psyche also can only take so much rejection, so why risk it? 

Besides, the people who really matter know where to find me. 

In real life. Not in Facebook.

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

photos via weheartit.com ; Macho Man Randy Savage via google images

Princess for a Day… (A Birthday Blog)

fit for a princess

Twenty years ago, around this time of year, I celebrated my 18th birthday with a big party. With big, I meant, gowns, suits, good food, party coordinator, mobile band, photo and video coverage, the works. 

My real birthday wasn’t until after two weeks, but since it was December and there were a lot of bookings for Christmas parties and weddings, the only available date for our chosen venue was the first of December.  It was supposed to be a garden party but it started raining midday so the venue coordinator decided it was best to move the party to the main ballroom upstairs.

I remember visiting a nearby church that afternoon with my mom.  I remember seeing her crying, angry at the weather for ruining the original idea of having a garden party.  But as I prayed, I just offered a prayer of thanksgiving.  I thanked the Maker for, well, making me and blessing me with another birthday.  I thanked Him for the opportunity to celebrate with my family and friends.  I thanked Him for everything that I had and I think the only thing I asked for was for my friends to be able to attend.  (Oh, and I think I prayed for my accounting exam that I took the day before…)

Twenty years is a long time.  Somehow, I still remember bits and pieces of  my 18th birthday party…

  • I had no boyfriend then.
  • My escort was a cousin who was a couple of years younger.  He was more nervous than me because we had to do the waltz.
  • My sister and another cousin were the hosts of the evening.
  • My sister lost the list of names for my 18 roses dance.  She improvised.  Ended up calling the names of her friends instead of mine!! (Dear, dear sister.  I never let her host any of my events after this)
  • I have a family friend nicknamed Booey who was asked to dance by a schoolmate of mine.  With the music blaring, he couldn’t quite get her name right.  He kept calling her “Boobsy” the whooole night.  (Shame!!)
  • I had a hundred guests. I think half of those were my parents’.  Hahaha.
  • It was 1990.  The song of the night — if not the year — was… All right stop, collaborate and listen…  “Ice, Ice Baby.” 
  • Ice, Ice Baby ended the evening.

Vanilla Ice was THE man!!!

I was a happy, single, 18yr old sophomore college student then.   I was studying in a good university, I had great friends, my family was intact.   Perhaps my main and only real concern at that time was passing my Accounting exams. 

At that time I didn’t really know yet what I wanted to do in life.  I was young, naive and pretty clueless about my future.  Maybe I was a bit scared of uncertainty, but I was expectant of great things to happen.

~ * ~

Now,  20 years (and about 20 pounds) later…

I am no longer the naive girl that I once was.  Experience has taught me a lot.  I can make my own decisions and I am firm about the things that I want as well as the ones that I don’t.  I value my non-negotiables.  I now know when to shed a silent tear and when to be a drama queen.  I choose my battles… and I try to choose well.

Oftentimes I am clueless about certain things… but because I am a mom and children look up to me, I try to exude confidence and intelligence.  Moms are supposed to be all-knowing, so I dare not burst the child’s bubble. 

I still get scared of things unknown, things uncertain.  But now, I have more faith in myself. I also have more faith in Someone greater than myself.  I know I will be led.

I still continue being thankful.  Thankful that I have a family that has been ever supportive.  Thankful for my son — the very reason why I try to be the best person I can be, always.  I am thankful for not being alone.  I am thankful for my high school friends who are still my bestest friends ’til today. I am thankful for the new friendships that I have forged.  

I am thankful for this gift called life and for each and every breath that I continue to take. 

And I thank the heavens that I don’t have to take another accounting exam ever. Ever, ever…

Just as I was when I was 18, I am still expectant of greater things to come.

~ * ~

Let's parteee!!!

 

I have no plans for this year’s birthday yet.  Most likely I will spend the day wrapping Christmas gifts… then maybe have a quiet dinner with the family.  Maybe my birthday weekend will be about baseball games and Christmas parties.  I really don’t mind.  At the end of the day, it’s about spending it with the people I love.

It’s 2010.  I have no idea what this year’s best song will be… but I have a feeling I’ll be hearing Justin Bieber’s Baby over and over before the year ends…

 

*** *** *** *** ***

photos via google images and clipart

Judge and be judged

the imperfect storm

Mom: I am thinking of setting up a business for your brother and you.

Daughter:  What’s that got to do with me?

Mom: Because if you don’t help him out, I will really make you take up law. 

Daughter: (looking totally clueless) Huh?

Mom:  You should be a lawyer.  I want you to be a judge someday.  You will be happy if you are a judge.  You shouldn’t waste your intelligence… 

Daughter:  Who said I’m not happy?!  (Big sigh)

Sounds like a storm is brewing.

~*~

Initially, one would see nothing wrong with the above conversation. 

I suppose it is but normal for parents to tell their children what they want their children to become…  what path they suggest their children to take.  Out of love and concern for our kids, we parents, most often than not try to persuade them to choose a certain direction.  Of course our choices are based on our own personal experiences, as well.  We teach based on what we know.  We try to influence our children based on how we lived life and we think that what made us succeed will do the same for them.  We just want them to be successful and to be happy.

Nothing is wrong with offering suggestions.  Nothing is wrong with telling your child you dream of him or her to be this or that someday…

Not unless you are talking to a 35+ yr old. A mother of an 11yr old, with her own family unit– her own household– and a dog, to boot.    Someone who has been independent and has been taking care of her family, as well as other people’s family, for the past decade. 

You simply cannot tell that person, even if she were your own child, that you know what will make her happy. 

Because you don’t.   

~ * ~ 

I have mentioned several blogs back (see Highlight of My Day) about how I decided to veer away from the corporate life and chose to be a domestic goddess.  I believe I also mentioned that I came from a career-oriented family.  I knew that a lot of people didn’t understand why I made such choice. I knew a lot of them questioned why I chose being a full-time-rah-rah-mom over working for some company that would give me a nice title before my name.   

I didn’t mind, really.  I believed that having a peaceful family life, with a happy, loving — not to mention, very intelligent– child was more than enough to make me feel successful.  I derive my self-fulfillment from having the chance to make memories with my son.  I never really craved for any other title.  It’s not something that I miss having because I am happy where I am.  Like what I always say, to each his own.

But then hearing my mom telling me a few days ago that being a lawyer or a judge would make me “happy” really almost made me blow my top.  At that moment, the only thing I could think of was how little she thought of me… and how little she knew of me

It was pretty sad, really.  Sad not because what she said made me feel small about myself, but more because I don’t think she truly understands the happiness I get out of being a mother.  Obviously, she gets her sense of happiness elsewhere… while I derive joy from being with the people I love, doing things with and for them, sharing moments with them.

~ * ~

My mom has always been career-oriented. We never faulted her for that.  My siblings and I grew up under the care of a nanny who stayed with us until she was 85.  When our nanny passed away last year, my sister and I (being the two older ones) really felt like we lost a big part of us, as well.    My mom never understood why we cried so much.

Now in her 60’s, my mom is still happily working… proud to keep her title of being an attorney, and every other title possible, depending on her position.  Because of her present position, she got assigned in a faraway place, gets to come home only once or twice a month.  She is still happy, though.  She has reached the pinnacle of her career… 

Our weekends are spent with lunches, dinners or coffee dates with my dad, my sister and her family and my brother.  Without our mom, though, because she’s somewhere else.  We share moments here as a family, while she’s out there somewhere, socializing with the lawyers and judges like herself.  And oh yeah, she’s working, too.

She doesn’t realize that while she’s out there happily being a Somebody, I am back here taking care of her household.   I run their errands, manage their househelp, do their groceries.  My sister and I take turns staying with or inviting our dad over when he needs company.  When my brother went through some rough spot, I was there to give him whatever guidance or support he needed. 

So, maybe I don’t have a title other than “mom.”  I don’t introduce myself as Atty. So and so or Dr. Something something.  Not even Supermodel Someone.  I also see no reason to introduce myself as Writer Me when I meet with my son’s teachers or my other co-parents.  I simply see no point nor reason to.  But being ‘untitled’ doesn’t mean I am less busy, nor does it make my life less significant.

Maybe she is happy being what and where she is.  But that doesn’t mean that I am NOT happy being who or what I am.

~ * ~

What really brings you joy? Think about it.

SGM : We all have different sources of happiness.  I am happy with my family.  I am happy that I get to write.  I am happy with my life… Besides, i don’t want to be a judge. To me, it’s just a title.  

And that was how the storm ended. 

*** *** *** *** *** *** ***

photos via google images