This is for all the women who ever fell inlove with an asshole.

January 29, 2008

Now I’m not saying that I’ve ever fallen inlove before because personally I could never even distinguish my left from my right, let alone love from mere infatuation. But for what it’s worth, I know what it’s like to be close to a boy, to be happy whenever we’re talking and giddy like a fat kid staring at cake. I know what it’s like to be led on by the everyday texts, the late-night calls, the gifts and the compliments and ultimately the extra attention. I know what it’s like to care for a boy’s happiness and even his health. And above it all, I know what it’s like to be hurt by an argument, an uncalled-for remark, and or, eventually, a disappearing act.

But for the record, this isn’t about my early ‘07 mistake, at least not primarily, so get over yourself fool. This is a rant made by two girls who have finally had it with some of the men in this world. This is for all the women who ever fell inlove with an asshole.    

Chances are you’ve met a player who dribbles his women with the ease of an All-Star. You give it a shot, he seems like a nice guy, MAYBE he would change. Either that or you didn’t know his game from the beginning and are deceived by Mr. Tall Dark & Handsome, betrayed by his gorgeous eyes and suave words. He calls you everyday and gives you the attention that you want, only to find out that you’re not “the only one, baby”.  It makes you sick to your stomach you wish you could ram his head against the wall and hit him with a crowbar. Twice.

If not the philandering Tucker, maybe you’ve dated the “Taste tester”, the bastard who was only ever out to get some. He too knows his way around the ladies. He says exactly what you want to hear and gives exactly what you want to get. He does everything that he can to make you believe that he’s actually serious. But then, at the end of the day, when finally you’ve reciprocated his actions and you’ve given him everything in return, he turns tail and is suddenly too busy or too tired to give you your well-deserved call. And before you know it, he’ll be out of reach completely. Why stick around when he's gotten what he came for? In the words of my roommate, Tinikman ka lang niya. Hahaha shit.

So most girls want commitment, not inconsistent. And as awful as it sounds, we want an accessory to complement us, not a freaking Twister Fry. We need someone to be there for as long as it takes, not like McDonalds’ list of seasonal goods that emerge around Christmas and are gone by the New Year. In the end, some boys vanish just as quickly as they had come, just like Twister Fries.

And of course there are other types of men like the obsessive-possessive who bounces from being totally evil to being totally sweet, depending on whom you’re with. If you’re seen with another guy, he’ll flip and be all Mark Wahlberg in Fear on you. Yet on most days, he’s adorable and nice in an addicting kind of way you keep coming back. Then there’s the type who will easily leave you for a better, smarter, hotter girl. Like you were a defective product he had replaced at the store.

It’s never fair to stereotype, but if the boys who read this feel so confident in their manners, then where’s the need to be defensive? This is not reproof for all the men in this world, rather only to those whose lack of a conscience allow them to hurt a nice girl. Heartbreaks are tiring and frankly there isn’t enough chocolate in my fridge. So to the women who ever fell inlove with an asshole, if he’s dumb enough to walk away, be smart enough to let him go.

<3 Alexis
The day I thought I’ll never get through, I got over you :)

P.S. This is for you, BAngers :) Some of my favorite women in the world who haven't been very lucky either. 16 to Happy-ness, ladies.

under preshahh

January 20, 2008

Pressure is any student’s way of putting Parents, Peers and Professors in one word. And you know how in high school everyone would bitch and warn you about college? Well kids, they weren’t kidding.

College could kill a cheater, a bum and a crammer all in a blink of an eye. In High School, I would study the recess before an exam, or if I was in the mood, I’d study the night before. I lived with this routine for four years, and it landed me second to the best in the batch. Not bad for the queen of procrastination.

But everything you had in high school is meant shit in college. Especially in the great University of the Philippines.

I figured it wouldn’t be so bad; I just have to adjust, is all. And then your professors reveal their horns, and the papers flood in, the ten-page assignments, the deadlines, the sadistic exams, and okay the parties too, but the point is it’s really not that easy because just when you thought your old habits were gonna pull you through, Math and Accounting will bite you in the ass. And hard too.

I nearly by-an-inch almost failed Math 17 and got just as lucky in Accounting. I spend like a grand in Starbucks almost every week, my eyebags now officially make me look like Sweeney Todd, and the closest thing to exercise I get these days is walking from Economics to Palma Hall and going up 4 floors. I am in a really bad rut and I bet my nonexistent ass my grades and expenses will send me to hell someday, if this isn’t hell already.  

But for what it’s worth, I feel like I’m a better person.

HAHAHA. What a laugh.

<3 Alexis
When life gives you lemons, get tequila and salt ;)

happy-ness :)

You know how when the year’s about to end, blogs about memories and regrets and unforgettable moments flood the bulletin boards day in and day out? You start to reminisce about those tedious summer days where your only class was three hours TOO LONG,

those “everydays at Bo’s or Starbucks” days because you actually had the money and the time,

those 5 days 4 nights of the most sadistic, most inhuman, most awesome Planning Sem eveeer,

those other 3 days 2 nights of planning, tanning and Channing ;)

those lazy afternoons with your best friends,

that January dance with your since-December almost-bestfriend/crush,

that event you finalized on the day before your Math exam,

that rose on Valentine’s Day,

that day you switched to Globe :p

those first few weeks into sophomore year,

those days you couldn’t cut the most boring History class in the history of history because your seatmate was too gorgeous :p

that month of eyebags, stress, bruises and alcohol to cope – Cheering was that big a pain in the ass,

that one merry “squad sleepover” (wherein no one really slept to make pink fucking pompoms) the night before the Sportsfest,

that first fated July night that started your Tuesday tradition,

that night you drank to the ABCs,

those nights you met “Fun” and “The Past” – every Tuesday was a misadventure,

those “late night, after-Drews” sessions at Mcdo,

that one night you were so drunk you had to be CARRIED from Mcdo to car to bed,

those 2AM Wednesdays when you would come down to 7/11 to share Pinoy Chicken Mami with one of your best friends,

those 8AM Wednesdays when you have to force yourself to attend your 9AM class despite the hangovers and the insufferable lack of sleep,

that day you fell down the stairs because of your stupid heels :))

that very first Accounting exam,

that first time you learned to commute from the South to Quezon City and back,

that 48-hour squat at your friend’s condo,

that AdHoc before Econ, that PR Event before Accounting,

that sembreak fling with your childhood sweetheart from forever ago,

that non-romantic 1 to 3AM rendezvous at the Manila freakin’ Memorial,                                                               

your big co-birthday bash at Laguna with your best girls and boy space friends,

that most embarrassing moment in the pool (Ricoy and Emil, screw you hahaha),

your 18^th birthday shots dance cards belts underwear (haha shit),

that night the BAngers came back – non-violently :))

that first time you came out in public wearing short-shorts to perform the longest, most humiliating “short dance number” :p

that time you somehow attended three Christmas events in one night,

that time you spent the day with a friend you haven't seen in foreveer and he treated you to EVERYTHING ;)

that "shirt/bikini/boardshorts" yesterday you spent at Palms with your two since-sixth-grade amigos :) 

It’s a marvel how your memory can somehow store all of this, yet somehow fail you during your biggest, most important exams :p

One thing I said during my Salutatory Speech was that we should never forget to remember. You’re not the “master of your mind” for nothing. But for while the past is a good place to visit, you wouldn’t want to live there. Many of us have regrets. Mahal mo na, ayaw na niya. Okay na, sinaktan mo pa. Iniwan mo, biglang gumwapo :p  True enough, these aren’t our fondest memories, but at the end of the day, the past I think is good for three things: remembering, learning and appreciating.

I want to be able to look back again someday and remember the things that made me smile, laugh, even shamelessly cackle Michael Krings’ style with tears in my eyes :p Similarly, I want to remember the things that made me cry, made me sad, even depressed beyond chocolate therapy. In the same way rainbows would not shine without rain, happiness wouldn’t feel nearly as good without at least a moment’s gloom.

Another year has come and gone, and I like to think that we owe it to ourselves to be reminiscent but content, content but optimistic, optimistic but down-to-earth, down-to-earth but still striving for the stars. Because in spite of all the regrets, all the mistakes maybe, in spite of the failed exams, the lost time, the misplaced romances…with another year, we deserve another chance to take another crack at happyness ♥

<3 Alexis

Dear Santa, does he fit in the bag? :)

Currently Listening The Story Goes... By Craig David see related

One last dance with you

Even though what we have is strong

Both of us know that we’ve done wrong

Just one last dance with you

For all of the moments that we shared

All of the lies, they don’t compare

And I realize that

Every time I see your face, I know

There’s a part of me that can’t bear to let you go

And I would give my heart

Give you the world, risk losing everything I got

I’d give it all to you

And though I don’t want to stop

I know it’s the right thing to do

One last dance with you…

So I had just gotten home from BA Week Culmi Night when I couldn’t sleep for the life of me, and so I’d decided to listen to the Craig David CD I borrowed from VR. Lo and behold, the song above came up.

Gee thanks, God.

And I wonder sometimes, what the hell is really going on. I hate greeting him. I hate even having to see him. I hate his ego. I hate his attitude. I hate that he’s become some celebrated hotshot overnight. But above it all, I hate that until now I still haven’t gotten my explanation, that until now I blog about him like this, and that until now I think and I wonder if there was even the slightest chance in heaven that he ever actually cared.

I’m supposed to be over this! It’s not supposed to matter that he’s seeing someone new. It’s not supposed to matter what he does with his life. It’s not even supposed to matter whether he’s happy or sad. It’s been too long and too fucking stupid, and it’s not like we were ever even together, so it’s not supposed to hurt like this, at least not anymore.

I did my best to smile everyday, to make jokes, to look unaffected just to prove to him and to everyone else that he was an insignificant thing of the past and that I’m through playing games. I tried avoiding him. I even tried not talking about him. Because he’s an idiot. Because he’s an arrogant bastard who thinks everyone’s inlove with him…and maybe because it was never over, only set aside.

But I don’t want to put myself out there once again. I’m not like those girls he and most other boys are interested in. I don’t like makeup or skirts or heels. I don’t necessarily enjoy showing off a lot of skin. I’m not touchy or “huggy” or in other words a flirt. And for while I know I’m not very pretty or very sexy or whatever the hell it is guys are into, I don’t intend to change to please anybody, not even him.

And then I see the competition and I pray to lord Zeus to bring forth lightning and strike them all dead. So okay, maybe not dead “dead”, but “almost” is a lesser evil and my imagination is not so friendly. It’s selfish in every sense of the word, but I’ve never been a fan of third or nth parties because they stir my temper and then after, my heart.

But what’s a girl in the sidelines supposed to do?

<3 Alexis

There are no shortcuts, in life or in love. This pain must be felt. The alternative is much worse. It's what makes us special, what makes us beautiful, what, what makes us worthy; the pain of how we love. But that pain is accompanied by something else, isn't it? Hope. With your pain, there is hope. And that is where you are. Somewhere between agony and optimism and prayer. So you're human. You're alive. And that is what we have.

my favorite mistake

So maybe entertaining this in the first place was a mistake. He's just about the most arrogant, most ambitious, most conceited bastard I've ever known in my life, but my mom adores the man for reasons beyond even me. But to hell with "history" and to hell with "childhood sweethearts"; his promises are about as strong as a toothpick and I just can't deal with someone so lacking in my trust. My bestfriend thinks we're a match made in heaven, but I bet my non-existent ass ours is a relationship already doomed before it even began.

I just need something to happen, I need a sign that things are going to change. I need a reason to go on. I need some hope! And in the abscence of hope, I need to stay in bed and feel like I'm going to die today.

<3 Alexis
Why can't I just be the happily-ever-after person?