Posts tagged "Sidewalk Life"

I was up late last night when I remembered a conversation:

(A group of friends having Ice Cream together after class)
“Jeahan, what’s your dream guy like?”
“Huh?”
“What’s your dream guy like?…tell us…we all know you’re so good at this.”
“Uhh…umm…what? me?” (long pause) “I have no idea.” (smiles sheepishly)
“Yeah right. You’re not sharing again.”
“Really. You guys…why’s the spotlight on me again?”
“Tsk. Jeahan.”

I may have been imagining to be Cinderella all my life, but I tell you right now that I wasn’t lying during that conversation. I may have this dream of meeting Prince Charming or whatever you want to call him someday, but honestly, I’m not even sure what he’s going to be like. No wait, what I want him to be like. 

So for the first time ever, I’m going to try to get a glimpse of my future to see what my dream guy is like and type it all down here. 

How’s that? 
Alrighty then. 

Hands over my head.

Concentrate.

Closing my eyes. 

Feeling the powerful outside energy go inside. 

Concentrate. 

Throwing in a little bit of an awkward dance for good measure.

Concentrate some more.

There you go.
Oh my goodness. The most handsome creature ever created. 
It really is him. The person I have been waiting for my whole life. 
He’s smiling. I think I’m about to cry.

This guy.

• He looks at me the way the guy looks at the girl in the movies you think are corny and unrealistic but watch anyway. You know, the melting stare that expresses a thousand feelings. It’s like magic. 

• He runs after me when I walk out because of arguments that occur between us.

• He gives me a hug that almost as if says,
  

  I’m going to love you until the forever that I am capable of doing. That’s a promise.

• He holds my hand tightly when he knows there’s something wrong and I’m not ready to talk about it just yet.

• He does a Mr. Bean impersonation. Makes a complete fool of himself. But he doesn’t mind.

• He talks to me about his family.

• And then he listens to me when I talk about my family.

• He is not afraid to show me that adorable boy inside him.

• He is silent when he knows that I am right and he is wrong.

• He is constantly changing my life without having to take my naiveness away from me.

• He eats healthy and does not skip meals.

• He knows how to spend his money wisely, not splurging it over useless things.

• He can hang around with children all day long.

• He notices and appreciates every single thing I do for him.

• He can never stand seeing me suffer.
• He goes to the library not because it’s cold there, but because he actually takes time to read some books there.

• He doesn’t really care that I don’t have Jessica Alba body.

• He cries. And he’s not afraid of showing it to me.

• He talks to his friends about how much he sincerely loves me.

• He understands me even during my taray moments.

• He tells me without hesitations what he thinks about the way I act around him and other people.

• He waits for me outside my classroom until my class is over. (Of course this is no longer applicable, but whatever)

• He is man enough to say those sweet words each time he gets the chance.

• He slow dances with me even without the music.

• He treats me like the princess I most definitely am not. He makes me feel like I deserve to be treated nicely.

• He loves challenges.

• He understands Walt Disney language.

• He shoos away a lizard when I’m already dying by the mere sight of it. He does that even when he’s in the middle of killing the ultimate villain of something like a computer game.

• He stargazes with me.

• He reads and understands the Bible and talks to me about it.

• He knows his purpose in life. He donates the money for his birthday to the poor.

• He helps me face my fears.

• He personal calls me at the dorm and surprises me with a melted choco sundae.

• He lets me talk all day without seeming bored.

• He thinks maturely about his actions.

• He teaches me how to drive and does not spoil a word to my parents.

• He watches chick flicks with me.

• He makes me realize that the very long wait was worth it after all.

• He knows exactly why I am typing down these things. And why I believe in the things I believe in (E.g. Glass Slippers, dwarfs).

So there goes my man of the future.
Isn’t he just amazing?

I am about to become the luckiest girl in the world.

DISCLAIMER: Of course  I’ve learned to un-brainwash myself from my Walt Disney expectations.  Even if the man of my future might be late for our dates or forget to send me the lyrics to the song he had written for me when he promised he would or give me a pink shirt when purple is clearly my favorite color, I’d still love him just the way he is. 

From North…                                                                                                   

To South.                                                                                                          

Oh Summer 2012, I’m having the time of my life because of you. 

28 May 2012

Because “GUILTY” is such a reassuring word. 

…………………………

Asked someone to marry you? Not yet guilty. HAHA.

Kissed one of your Facebook friends? Almost guilty. Emphasis on almost. 

Danced on a table in a bar?Innocent.

Ever told a lie?Guilty. Anyone would be lying if they said they haven’t.

Had feelings for someone whom you can’t have back? Guilty, world.  

Ever kissed someone of the same sex? Innocent.

Kissed a picture? Guilty. Even my laptop screen, actually. And the posters on my wall.

Slept in until 5 PM? Innocent. 

Fallen asleep at work/school?GUILTY! Oh, highschool years. 

Held a snake? INNOCENT.

Been suspended from school? INNOCENT.

Stolen from a store?INNOCENT.

Been fired from a job? HAHAHAHAHAHAHA. Innocent, I think. 

Done something you regret? I don’t think I can stress enough how GUILTY I am.

Laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose? Guilty! 

Kissed in the rain?Sus. 

Sat on a roof top? Guilty. 

Kissed someone you shouldn’t? Almost guilty. Again, emphasis on almost.  

Sang in the shower? GUILTY. EVERY SINGLE DAY OF MY LIFE.

Been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on? GUILTY.

Shaved your head? INNOCENT. But I did cut it really short once just cause I hated someone. Haha, I’m so pathetic, noh? 

Slept naked? INNOCENT. HAHAHA. 

Had a boxing membership? INNOCENT. 

Made a boyfriend/girlfriend cry?Excuse me, what? 

Been in a band? Guilty since last Sunday. 

Shot a gun?INNOCENT.

Donated blood? Almost guilty cause I almost fainted. 

Eaten alligator meat? INNOCENT. WHAT KIND OF A QUESTION IS THIS. 

Eaten cheesecake? GUILTY. 

Still love someone you shouldn’t? Please stop rubbing it in. Hahaha.

Have/had a tattoo? Innocent.

Liked someone, but will never tell ? Super guilty since circa 1994

Been too honest? You have no idea. 

Ruined a surprise? GUILTY. Every time my birthday falls on a friday the thirteenth. 

Ate in a restaurant and got really bloated that you can’t walk afterwards ? Haha guilty. #facepalm

Erased someone in your friends list? GUILTY. And never again. 

Dressed in a woman’s clothes (if you’re a guy) or man’s clothes (if you’re a girl)? Guilty! Sigh, I suddenly miss my friends. 

Joined a pageant? HAHA GUILTY.

Been told that you’re handsome or beautiful by someone who totally meant what they said? It remains to be verified. Haha, my trust issues. 

Had communication w/ your ex? Still innocent. 

DATING Someone? Still still innocent.

Get totally drunk one night and you have an important exam tomorrow morning? HAHAHAHAHA SUPER GUILTY. Flashback to senior year of college, please. 

A total stranger treats you by paying your jeepney/tricycle fare? Innocent.

Get totally angry that you cried so hard? GUILTY. You have no idea. 

Tried to stay away from someone for their own good? Guilty. Will forever be guilty. 

Thought about suicide? Guilty. It was really stupid. 

And when I’m bored I do my sister’s hair.

Funnies, A. Oposa style (because she is clearly my forever idol).

*My Love by Westlife playing on the radio*

Me at the top of my lungs: SOOOOO I SAAAAAY A LITTLE PRAYER AND HOPE MY DREAMS CAN TAKE ME THERE WHERE THE SKIES ARE BLUE TO SEE YOU ONCE AGAIN MY LOOOOOOVE. OVER SEEEEAS AND COAST TO COAST TO FIND THE PLACE I LOVE THE MOST WHERE THE FIELDS ARE GREEEEEN TO SEEEEEE YOU ONCE AGAAAAAAIN MY LOVE. 

*Me, pausing to catch my breath.*

Me to myself: It’s amazing how much I know. 

………………………….

*While attempting a cover of Rebecca Black’s Friday*

Mom: Ay, ano yan? Original song ninyo?

Us: We soooo wish!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

…………………………

Friend: The expression diay is “the coast is clear”?

Me: Oo naman. Why?

Friend: Wala lang, I just always thought it was “the ghost is clear”.

…………………………

*While ordering at a drive-thru*

Me: Yung value meal na lang i-order natin.

Ela: By value meal you mean burger, fries and soda. Three of World’s Most Cancerous Foods. Yep, value meal nga talaga.  

……………………………

Ar-Ar: Ibili mo ako ng copy ng Modelland ni Tyra, Jea.

Me: Hard bound or paperback?

Ar-Ar: Ano yan?

………………………….

*While watching the news about Robin Gibb’s death*

Mom: Hala, patay na si Rob.

Me: Close kayo, mommy?

Eduel: Hmm. I can already picture us 30 years from now. I’ll be like, HALA PATAY NA SI JUS BIEBS. And my children would be like, SINO YAN? CLOSE KAYO? And I’d be like, WHAT? HE’S ONLY LIKE THE MOST AWESOME SINGER OF OUR TIME.

Us: ………

Eduel: Of course that’s 30 years from now. I hope that day never comes. And that’s not because I don’t want him dead. 

………………………….

Grace: Grabe noh. Si Angelina Jolie naka-insure ang lips. Si Julia Roberts, ang smile. Ikaw, Ching. Kung may ipapainsure ka na body part, ano?

Ching: Acne marks. 

………………………..

Me: May Banana flavor ba ang Nutella? 

Ela: Ewan.

Me: Ay, wala siguro. Kasi kung meron, Banella na ang tawag sa kanya.

………………………..

Pastor: Alam niyo ba kung ano ang pitfalls?

Auntie Marla: Oo, aso!

Church members: ……….

Auntie Marla: Ay, akala ko pitbulls.

……………………….

Friend: Who’s your favorite Incubus member?

Me: Brandon Boyd, of course. Especially when he’s shirtless.

Friend: You really are a girl.  

The fictional story of how my father met my mother.

With the recent season finale of How I Met Your Mother and the sooooo predictable fate of Aunt Robin with Uncle Barney…I have no words. I don’t want to have to bawl again. 

I guess I’m now really just holding onto the hope that they’d get divorced or something in the finale of Season 8 and Aunt Robin realizes she’s more in love with Ted.

What can I say. Once a shipper, always a shipper.

And while I come up with a genius way to make Aunt Robin still end up with Ted (never mind that she can’t possibly be the mother), let me present you with this: The Fictional Story of How My Father Met My Mother.

Two hommies at the boulevard, just chilling.

Suddenly, le wild chick appears.

Le wild chick grabs both of their attention.

The ancient guy approaches le wild chick.

He makes a move on her.

Le instant holding hands!

And the rest was history.

»»»»»»»

Directed by: Jeahan Virda B. De Barras

As told by: My Sister

Shot on location at: Oroquieta City, Philippines

Others say that the reason why Jessica Sanchez should win season 11 of American Idol should not be a race thing. But for us Filipinos, it really is. 

There are 92,000,000 Filipinos in the Philippines and 11,000,000 more outside of the country. We are literally everywhere. But I have foreign friends who admit that they never would have known about the Philippines if it weren’t for me and my stories.

On a certain website, a survey was conducted on foreigners. They were asked if they know a country called the Philippines. A Filipino will be heartbroken to see what others think about us. 

How long have we been trying our best to show the world what we are capable of? Long before I’ve been born, for sure. Long before Dr. Jose Rizal died in Bagumbayan, even.  

I will admit that the country is still messed up in so many levels. Wars are ever ongoing in the south. We have a senate that waste all of its time over a pathetic chief of justice. Family members are dying on fire caused by too cramped up spaces in the shanties. Honestly, news has become unbearable that I never bother about it so much anymore.

But every time Manny Pacquiao wins another match or when a girl gets to live every little filipina’s dream to fly to the US and astonish everyone on Ellen with her big voice, an amazing sensation always happens and it’s like for a moment the Philippines is not divided by bodies of water, and various dialects and cultures, but a real nation. If we Filipinos could hug each other for every time one of us makes a name for his or herself outside of the country, we would. A thousand times or more, really. These moments when the country unite to celebrate for our kababayans are the moments when I am most proud to consider myself a Filipino.  

So for the past months we have been watching a little Filipino-Mexican sixteen-year-old girl hit ridiculous notes and leave all of America amazed, and I can’t say we have been less than supportive. In America, Jessica Sanchez may just be another Idol contestant who may or may not bag the title, but here in the Philippines, she has become somewhat a symbol of hope. We love her not only for her big voice but for her qualities that reflect the best of a Filipino. At such a young age, she’s already had quite unbelievable maturity and determination. While others her age are sulking around for the day they become famous, she’s been posting videos on YouTube, making appearances on local events in California and joining competitions that could give her the break she needs. But what I like most about her is that she’s doing all these things for a dream that does not only involve herself but also her whole family. It’s the kind of dream most Filipinos can definitely relate with.

So here at the Philippines, she’s made it to the front page of leading newspapers, she’s always allotted a story in primetime news, she’s always on the tweets of local celebrities. And she hasn’t even been here yet. You see, that’s how we Filipinos roll. When we Filipinos support, we support big time. It’s one of the things you will love about us. 

And whether or not Jessica Sanchez becomes the first female to win American Idol after a string of the so-called “white guy with a guitar” winners (as well as the youngest American Idol winner at age 16, the first Asian-American to win the title, and the first contestant to become truly worthy of the Judges’ Save (come on think about it, you guys!!!)), the whole country will still be rejoicing for her. 

Truth is, a lot of producers are eyeing on her already anyway. And given the right songs and packaging, Randy Jackson might be right in saying that she is worthy to perform in the Grammy’s.

But personally? I think I’m going to lock myself up in my room if she doesn’t win the title. What am I supposed to do? This girl is living my dream. 

Because I suddenly miss my Thrift Shopping days with my friends.

Let’s say your parents had inexplicably been generous to you and gave you a shiny, shimmering P7,000 to purchase the contents of your newly-revamped closet. So right when your hands took hold of that shiny, shimmering money, you headed as fast as you can to same old Robinson’s with hopes of raiding each clothing store there. Your first stop was the shop with the red and white sign where most of the products are, at some point, seen being worn by your seatmate, your brad or sis, or your own teacher. Forgetting the fact that the probability of walking around campus and bumping into a guy or a girl with the same shirt is higher than normal, you took about three shirts that you fancied. You shelled out P2,000 all in all. Next, you went to the store beside the one you first entered. Although it had slightly more expensive items than the first one, still you took three garments that caught your eye. Instantly, another P2,000 was dispensed. A little panicky, you look at the P3,000 that’s left of your shiny, shimmering money. And right at the corner of your eye, you see the wonderful pants on display at the store where you often go window shopping with your friends. And before you knew it, all your shiny, shimmering money were all gone.

Three shirts + three simple tops + the one wonderful pants. You sigh at your empty wallet. That so didn’t turn out like a dream come true shopping spree for a frustrated Shopaholic such as yourself. And the most devastating part is that you didn’t even need to go to a posh boutique like Mango or Zara to finish all that money.

Haaay, If you just spent that dream shopping spree in the smelly, muddy stalls of an Ukay-ukay. The shiny, shimmering P7000 would be more than enough to fill up your humongous closet.

“Ukay” literally means “to dig through”—what a savvy buyer does in order to unearth hidden treasures through piles of used clothing. Some charitably label these used clothes as “Vintage Couture”, old and previously owned clothes by people who had grown tired of them. Indeed, in Ukay-ukays, considered the proverbial second-hand store of luxury brands, you can find the cheapest pieces of articles—dirt cheap, even, since one can even buy a pair of pants for only P10.

There are countless possibilities in Ukay-ukays if you just learn to find the right items. It challenges you to get in touch with your inner fashionista as you look for potential items that you can mix and match as you please. But the best part about Ukay-ukays is that it helps save the environment. You rescue clothes that could have easily been sent to rot at the dumpsters. Dumaguete, known for its laid-back and humble people, have become one of the country’s most popular ukay-ukay destinations, with clothes coming mostly from Japan and Korea.

Most visitors never leave the city without getting a taste of its Ukay-ukay havens like AlyMae, the one near Villa Amada, the one across Qualfone and the one beside World View Hotel.

However, there have been debates on the legalities of Ukay-ukay businesses. The country has the Republic Act 4653, which is “An act to safeguard the health of the people and maintain the dignity of the nation by declaring it a national policy to prohibit the commercial importation of textile articles commonly known as used clothing and rags.” Because of this, there have been ongoing plans to fully ban Ukay-ukay businesses for the main reason that it affects the dying textile industry of the Philippines.

However, a few argue that these small businesses aren’t necessarily nuisance to the country. In fact, it helps give jobs and favours the less-privileged to purchase clothes at more than half the price. Some say that if these businesses cannot be banned, then paying taxes should be imposed as it is a particular responsibility of every business operation in the country. Some diverge, saying that taxes would only mean that prices of Ukay-ukay clothes would be forced to increase.

Endless debates are still ongoing. Nevertheless, it doesn’t hurt if every now and then, you drop by to the city’s Ukay havens and get better bargain than you’ll ever get when you’re at the mall. Because the thing is, you don’t have to spend a shiny, shimmering lot to look great. Naa ra na sa ga-dala, they say. So when you decide to wear the dress or shirt that you bought from an Ukay and just about everyone complements you about how good you look, don’t worry, we won’t tell.

It’ll be our little secret. ;)

Case in point: This dress might look H&M but it is very much just Villa Amada, babe. 

First of all, I apologize for this tacky post. Haha.

……………………

Of course a girl’s hair is her crowning glory. On a typical day, she could have her tummy burst out of her blouse from a very big lunch and still feel beautiful as long as her hair is. That’s why they call it Bad Hair Day, not Bad Skin Day or Bad Breath Day, when someone wakes up one morning and looks at herself in the mirror and sees something wrong and feels very much uglaaay for the rest of the day. I think it’s safe to say that it is the hair, depending on its condition, that affects the disposition of a person. 

When I was a kid, my dad would sometimes steal away the precious time that I was supposed to use enjoying my childhood. He would make me sit in front of him and with a comb on his hand I always knew I should be running away and saving myself from what was about to happen (but I couldn’t cause, if I remember correctly, my dad had invisible chains that tied me down on a chair). “You have to comb your hair all the time so that the natural oil will come out,” my dad used to indoctrinate on me. Seeing my friends play outside while I was stuck at the windowsill with my dad trying to untangle the excruciating mess that is forming on top of my head is always the saddest moment of my childhood.

However now, when I look at my six year old self in the photos, I realize my dad had a point and he really wasn’t trying to mess with my life after all.  I really did have pretty hair back then.

Oh gosh, if only I listened to my dad, I’d think to myself. But since naturally I didn’t, he gave up on me. One day he took me to a beauty shop (oh, the irony) where I lost my pretty, pretty hair. My hair was cut so short that when I left the place, this one lady looked at me and I swear she must have thought I was a boy on girls’ clothes. I did not cry on our way home. I just kept looking at myself on the side mirror of our car thinking about how I’ve never seen anything so ugly in my life.

I lost my confidence because of that. During the years while I tried to grow back my hair, I couldn’t use all those colorful hair accessories like my friends did. Hey, remember these?

What’s worse, I couldn’t join princess games and pretend to be a princess anymore because, as my friends have often pointed out, princesses always have long hair. I felt so left out. Oh, it was really terrible. 

When my hair grew back, it no longer was the super straight, glossy hair that it used to be. It became very unruly and frizzy and sometimes on really terrible days, bushy. I swear it was like Hermione Granger’s hair—not Emma Watson’s in the movie (I’m still finding it unfair that her hair changed after Chamber of Secrets, pfft.) but, really, the real Hermione Granger’s. 

I wish I could hate my dad because of what he has done but the unfortunate fate of my hair was really just because of my own stubbornness. Had I listened to him and had I been persistent enough to grab a hairbrush and use it when I was already literally getting tangled in my own hair, then my dad never would have decided to give me a lesson.

When I entered highschool, I decided that it was time to do something with my hair. I needed to get rid of the ugliness that I was each day forced to carry on top of my head everywhere I went. I wrote a 4-page letter to my mom explaining to her how sick I was of being ugly and the only remedy for that was if we could do something about my hair. That’s when she decided to have my hair Rebonded. I think my parents have had countless of arguments because of that decision my mom made, considering that that was eons ago and Rebonding was still just becoming popular because of one shampoo commercial, so it was a big deal at Php 6,000, and also considering that I was enrolled in a really expensive school…well yeah, nights became awkward from my parents’ conversations using high-volumed voices and plates were always mysteriously found on top of our wooden ceiling fans in the morning of the aftermath. Right now I can totally say that I’ve been selfish but back then, I was really just desperate that I would do whatever it took to get rid of my bushy hair.

In the end my mom and I won, and all that drama were worth it. When I sported my new look in school, people were all suddenly complimenting me. Even my ultimate high school crush, who often made fun of me, became flattering. I don’t want to sound like a cliché highschool movie, but I really felt like I finally became visible for the very first time. 

My hair stayed artificially beautiful for a while. However, I’ve been told that Rebonding my hair could cause severe damages and I did not believe it until, in time, it happened to me. Breakages and split ends appeared that I had to say goodbye to my 6,000-peso chemical-coated hair and cut it.

I’m just glad, though, that even if my hair never really turned back to its shape when I was six, at least it also never turned back to its shape when I was thirteen. My hair still sometimes is unruly but at least it never again is bushy.

To date, I must say I have done all kinds of things to my hair already. 

Every girl in this world probably has this one part of her body that she obsesses about. Obviously for me, my hair—after all that we’ve been through—has now become that one obsession. Without a doubt, I’ve spent the most bucks on it, regularly giving it treatments and changing its style every now and then.

The obsession has probably paved way for my developing narcissistic habits (double major eew). But again, let me just say this: I really do believe that no matter how much wrong things you see in the rest of your body, if your hair is looking its best, then everything would be alright. I can forget about my face blemishes and huge thighs as long as my hair is tamed to perfection. Not many people get it, I know. My dad, for example, doesn’t get how after spending bucks to straighten my hair I only end up permanently curling it, and the other way around. They wouldn’t understand because they have not been in my shoes. They’ve had lives filled with memories that don’t include being laughed at for looking like a boy or Hermione Granger from the book. Pretty hair has become my obsession—my frustration—because I’ve spent far too awful years not having one. And now I’m just making up for all those years I’ve lost. 

And I guess that answers your questions about why I change my hairstyle all the time?

Old files recovered! Will therefore be posting old pictures in the next few days because, you know. 

Canyon Cove, Batangas

December 2010

Here it is: What I can say after weeks of shutting up.

We have this quite ugly tendency to care so much about what others think about us. Say, while shopping, a girl wearing a uniform of a so-so college looks at you (from head to foot, you swear!) hence you throw her back a look that you say wasn’t a back off girl, don’t look at me like that when you’re wearing the uniform of your so-so college but, really, it might as well have been that. Sure, maybe the girl was really onto you for getting the last stock of the blue army jacket on sale. Or maybe she really was just admiring your outfit that day. Either way, you only ever had one thing to control in that situation and that was yourself. Your main responsibility there was to take care of yourself and make sure that you stayed out of trouble. Really, you should have just continued shopping.

But you didn’t so you got yourself in a cat fight for the very first time. What’s worse, it was your entire fault because later on, the girl admitted that she really was just admiring your outfit.

That’s the thing about us sometimes. We interpret others’ actions a million times more than what is possible. And the irony is that most of the time, out of those millions of interpretations, we pick out the wrong ones and then act accordingly. That’s overthinking right there and it’s as deadly as an M16 rifle.

The same concept is true when it comes to romantic relationships (really, you should have already known where this was heading). Here we meet Andie* who is forever figuring out who The One is. Finally one day she meets one probable candidate. But they were always quite intricately in the grey area of what is right and what isn’t. Eventually, this situation had brought out Andie’s tendency to overthink. For months, Andie had been preoccupied about this person’s actions that she didn’t realize it was only causing her to stop protecting herself and thinking whether the situation was actually hurting her. Instead, all her time are consumed for this person’s actions which are obviously wayyyy out of her control.

Andie then starts asking the bedroom wall things that are impossible to answer, “WHY ISN’T HE TEXTING WHEN HE PROMISED HE WILL? WHAT IS HE THINKING RIGHT NOW? OH GAAWWWD, DOES HE STILL LIKE ME???”

Honestly, Andie? All that is just another form of denying yourself and shifting your focus to something that you cannot interpret (because hate to break it to you but you don’t have a CCTV camera built inside his head). What’s more, this lack of care for yourself also becomes evident to the boy. You become someone he thinks doesn’t deserve respect and this sets up a bad foundation for your dream relationship. And without respect, a relationship will become a whole made up of two deformed parts that never grow nor heal but rather keep twisting and remaining stuck in painful cycles. Ouch. That is the one thing you’d want to avoid.

So instead, what you must really be asking yourself (and not the bedroom wall, please) should go something like, “Do I deserve someone who keeps breaking his promises? Do I deserve someone who is a complete utter waste of my brain cells? Do I deserve someone who clearly isn’t even worthy of someone as amazing as me?“ PAKKK. Andie, you are witty and pretty and kind. So please, you should think highly of yourself from now on, clear?

“I don’t care—I want him and I’ll change him!” Hmm, see what Andie is doing here, friends? She’s using the life-changer card. Unfortunately, the sad truth is that you can never change another person, they can only ever change themselves. And if you keep being stubborn, you’ll only get yourself in more heartbreaks and nights listening to pathetic Taylor Swift songs. Frankly, wanting something despite the fact that it will devalue you and cause you pain is basically the same as not loving yourself. It is to ignore what’s best for you for the sake of a blinding high sometimes misinterpreted as love.

Because you badly want him to be The One, you willfully adjust yourself for him. Case in point: However inconvenient for you, you stay up until 3am even though you have a busy day ahead since the wee hours are his only literally free time.

Do you know what you become when you do that? You become desperate. Also, you become a sad victim of your own stupid, stupid decisions.

I admit there have been times when I felt I was in love with someone but now I realize I was really just in love with my idea of who they were. Of who they could be in my life. It’s a harmful idea half-completed by my own excuses and endless explanations.

But because of recent unfortunate events, I think I may have finally understood Real Love (yes, in capital letters). I don’t know when I will ever find it but I know it’s really out there somewhere and I don’t want anything less. I now know that Real Love is different; it is more beautiful than what I’ve been led to believe for the longest time. Real Love means a person will be totally honest with you even if it meant you were going to get hurt by his huge revelation. Real love means a person will not continue to lead you on when he knows it’s already impossible for you to be his ending. Real Love means a person will let you go so that you can carry on to be what you really want without constantly pretending that a part of him is there with you while you chase after your dreams. Real Love means you can be honest about your feelings and never change yourself to please the other person. Real Love makes everything special about you be brought to life. It is family. It is not complicated. It doesn’t hold you back.

What you should understand is that to be able to love someone, you must first love yourself. Looking inward to retain your balance and clarity is a very important tip in living. It will not only give you the answers you need in love, it will also give you a fresh perspective with friends, work, family and in times of, well, unfortunate events.

So from here on out, whatever you do, wherever you go and whoever you meet, you should always remember to never betray yourself because what that only does is confirm what those wrong guys have subliminally told you before: that you don’t matter. That you are not worth loving. And to you dear Andie, that is soooo not true.

Also, please stop overthinking so much now. I highly doubt that your future boyfriend likes that.

*Andie is a hypothetical character that may or may not be based on a real person ;)

Things I want to do/happen before I die.

Just something I’ve been meaning to answer here since people started asking. I actually own a whole notebook that sorely exists for this. I chose my top 6, in random order.

1. Graduate. Get a job. Support my baby sister to college. Make my parents retire. See the world from the top of the Eiffel tower and maybe work for a month in a little vintage book shop somewhere in country Ireland. 
2. Attend all my preschool, grade school, high school and college reunions.
3. Economic stability of the country, to assure myself that everything will be fine for all the people that I would have to leave behind someday. And not just for all the people I know, for that matter. I really want a better Philippines for all the Filipinos. Really.
4. Do something outrageous like skydiving or water rafting. Or just simply, umm, standing up for myself.
5. Publish a novel and be included in Oprah Winfrey’s book club.
6. Meet the dude. Marry him. Have my twins. Live in a nautical-inspired home with interior lavender wallpaper. Send my kids to a really nice school. Make lunch for them. Remind them that I love them more than I ever did with anybody else. Share my mishaps and little victories with them. And I really hope my future husband will still be around to hold my hand during the last few moments of my life.