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Archive for March, 2010

I have amazing relatives!

I just got a surprise package in the mail from my aunt in Dallas.

BRAND NEW STUFFS!!!

2 dresses, 2 pairs of new slacks for work, 5 blouses, 1 cardigan, 1 pair of shorts, some make-up, bracelets…yay!!!

…and I didn’t even have to have a birthday or anything. Haha!

Just sayin’, I have awesome relations.

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Tonight, I cried for you when I thought I was done.

I don’t know what it was. Maybe it was the title of the movie, “Down with Love” being on tv. I just felt like, YEAH, DOWN WITH LOVE! And I felt all that bitterness welling in me, followed by a wave of overwhelming sadness that just crashed into me. Suddenly, I collapsed onto the bed and cried. I cried for all the loneliness, the hopelessness, and brokenness I have been feeling for so long. I cried for all the times that I’ve tried so hard to get over this. And finally, I cried because I know…I still do.

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Wicked

Listened to the Wicked soundtrack and just about cried over “I’m Not That Girl” and “For Good”.

I just really relate to those two. I still feel like that girl that I know he wants…but he just can’t be with. I will always be that girl looking into his life and wishing I was in her shoes. But I know: I’m not that girl.

And “For Good” is just a damn good song about the people that change you. Some of them don’t necessarily change you for the better…but you are not as naïve, reckless and vulnerable as you were. And sadly, I think some changes like that are for good.

Links to songs to be uploaded soon!

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I wonder if ever
I will be a bride
with a white lace gown,
standing in front of everyone
looking beautiful
because someone
loves me
that much.

as found on rrawrr.

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Riding on the Subway with my cousin from the Village to Queens takes about 40 minutes. It gave me a decent amount of time to catch up with her. One of the things that naturally came up was why things didn’t work out with nBF.

Our conversation could be summed up pretty fairly:

“When you sigh in relief when he does something that hints that he loves you isn’t a good thing. It means that at all other times, you just didn’t feel loved.”

And really, that was what it felt like the last couple of months of our relationship. And it was what finally broke me: that sigh of relief.

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Whoa, I suddenly feel really old.

Found out 2 of my exes are married. One of them has a daughter. Another ex-boyfriend has a son now, too.

Did I dodge bullets or miss the train?

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Oh No, She Didn’t!

Oh yes, I did.

I succumbed to the Tumblr craze.

check me out at:

FEARLESS DOODER

bazinga.

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She was 90 years old.

She had 10 sons and daughters.

She had over 45 grandchildren and great-grandchildren.

She was the gravitational force that kept a family that large so closely-knit. She was the force of nature that had us always coming home, or knowing that we had a home to go to no matter what.

It was with great sadness that I said goodbye to my grandmother, Gloria J. Tan. She was the only grandparent I knew on my father’s side since my grandfather passed away in 1978, long before I was born. She was always strict. We had homework during the summers we spent with her. She was a school teacher that drilled education into all 10 of her children.

She hoarded and portioned everything.

In some ways, it was odd that all gifts to anyone in the family went through my grandmother first. But in the end, I see the bigger picture. With such a large family, there was absolutely no room for ideas of favoritism or any perception that one person was valued higher in the family than another.

She loved all of us equally.

When my father died, he was the first of her children to pre-decease her. I remember witnessing her grief. She had crumbled right in front of his casket, unable to move forward, unable to bring herself to look inside at her son.

Indi ni siya tarong, gid,” she cried. This is not right.  A mother must not have to see her children die before her.

I cannot understand that kind of grief right now. Mine was of a different sort. But she lived through the same grief two more times. I cannot imagine having the strength to relive my own grief three times.  It must have taken inconsiderable strength.

But from my grandmother, it comes as no surprise.

I will always love her. The lessons she taught (bulutong [pimples] if I don’t finish my rice), the idea of family that she represented, and the way she used to absolutely light up, open her arms wide and hug us whenever we came to visit.  She always felt like home.

Rest in Peace, Lola Amah. You are loved.

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It’s not that I have a fear of commitment.  It’s not that I can’t just click the little “Buy” button. It’s just that I like a lot of things, but it doesn’t mean I like it enough. Economists would call it a Marginal Willingness to Pay (MWTP). If that margin isn’t reached, then I ain’t payin’ for it.

So I find myself with a ton of shopping carts filled with things I like, just not enough to take the next step.

But like I said, it’s not that I have a problem with commitment.

Lawrd knows, the moment I really want something, hell or highwater couldn’t stop me from going for it. 

Point: I clicked on the “Buy Now” button and completely bypassed the bidding process on the Burton Clash on ebay.  I have bought clothes with barely a second thought. I’ve paid serious cash for food and drinks without missing a beat. I’ve agreed to expensive trips (hell, snowboarding, vegas anyone?) without notice. 

I just have all these things that I kind of like, just not enough to make a leap.

So they sit in my shopping cart. I go back every now and then. Sometimes, what was in there is no longer in stock.  My loss if I suddenly decide that I had wanted it all along.  Sometimes, I buy one thing from the cart because things have changed enough such that…I want it. And sometimes, I delete items from the shopping cart altogether. And still other times, I leave the same things in there.

I was thinking about it the other night, and dating…is kind of like having the Shopping Cart Syndrome.

There are guys that you like…just not enough to really go for it.  So you flirt with them, you date them, but you never really take them home, much less to meet mom.  You put them in the shopping cart, but you never really buy (into) them. Sometimes, you realize that what was in the shopping cart was one that you’ve wanted all along..sometimes, it’s not available anymore…and sometimes…well, they just stay in the shopping cart. Till next time.

And of course there are ones that you delete right off the list. Or your phone. de-Buddy List. Block on your G-chat. Defriend on Facebook. You know how it is.

Then there are guys that just knock you head over heels. Like, BAM! you’re seeing stars and you’re going from 0 to 60 in 2.6 seconds. Yeah…you know those guys.   Where you’re just throwing all caution to the wind for…the ones you just want. right. now.  And because you want him that bad, you’re willing to commit to this guy. Signed, sealed and delivered, baby.

I think I have the Shopping Cart Syndrome. I don’t believe in committing to something I kind of like, but it does give me some sort of satisfaction to put things in a shopping cart.  The thought of “maybe” is pretty heady. But then again, I know that when I want something, I wouldn’t think twice about anything else but the thought of having it. My MWTP is pretty high for that guy.

It’s pretty bad.

But hey, at least I know what I want. Right?

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Soul Hurt

“When I say I love you, it’s not because I want your or I can’t have you. It has nothing to do with me. I love what you are, what you do, how you try. I’ve seen your kindness and your strength. I’ve seen the best and the worst of you. And I understand with perfect clarity, exactly what you are.  Thank you for everything that you have taught me and been to me. You truly are an exceptional being.”

“I feel like our love for one another runs deep and will always be there and we will be able to find our way home.”

I don’t know what to believe in. I don’t know how to feel. Sometimes I know deep down to my very bones that I am at peace with everything. And other times, it still hurts all the way to my soul.

In the simple words of Neil Gaiman, “I hate love.”

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