Spotting the b*llsh*t from a mile away

When I’m running out of ideas or I lack inspiration or have become unmotivated to write, the best thing for me to do is string out a few thoughts about my all-time favorite topics – love and men. I’ll pass on love because for the first time in a long while, my heart is unencumbered by anyone, mythical or real. (Uh, I might take that back because I still dream of Chris Mitchum and Val Kilmer in their younger days whenever it dawns on me “where have all the beautiful real men gone?”)

Men are fascinating. They brighten up my world. I won’t deny my penchant for good-looking, brawny, humorous, financially capable, slick intelligent breed whose masculine appeal could melt a massive glacier in the Arctic region. I get mesmerized by the sight of a man holding and puffing on a cigarette in a manly way; at the same time a man who drinks is definitely sexier than a man who doesn’t, imo. In contrast, overweight or skinny boring guys who are bereft of humor and machismo don’t interest me at all. To be concise, I like the type of men all women like. And that’s the problem.That explains why my romantic history is descriptive of tears and more tears, not to mention of severe heart desolation.

I wish there were young female readers who somehow follow my blog as I could share to them lessons I had learned down the hard road about love and men. I’d initially tell them to buy and read and soak up the best book on male-female relationships penned by a guy named Greg Behrendt titled “He’s Not That Into You” which, alas, should’ve come out in my twenties but was published and handed to me more than a decade late. Many, especially the men, however, have warned against adherence to relationship advice as they do nothing but double the number of single women in their thirties and forties.

I don’t know. What I do know now is that I’d rather be alone than be with someone who’d keep hammering my head with crap other women would be willing to take to escape loneliness. To this day, at my age, men here would still tell me I’m beautiful (even though I’m not) and that I shouldn’t be on my own.Well, most of them are either married or are way younger. And I ain’t stupid. I mean, what would they want from someone like me when the current ratio of female to male is almost 4:1. I surely am not willing to give away what li’l money I have (to the younger guys) or spend a brief sexual period with them (to the unavailable ones). That’ll spell a lot of trouble. My father had told me once, “You’re the kind of girl who knows what’s good for herself.” He wouldn’t have said that if it had been an empty truth.

As young ladies, we find validation through amorous connections even if we relinquish our souls during the course. The regret and realization on how we misspent our precious time and emotions on such dorks come much much later.

A female co-blogger had wailed to me, “It’s easy for you to say ‘be cautious’ because you’ve already been through it all. But I’ve never been loved and I would want to undergo the whole episode, good or bad, even for a short time.” To that I found myself unable to respond. She has a point.

But I hope that, unlike me, these girls don’t have hearts that bleed easily. I also hope they’d still manage and end up exercising good judgment when choosing the one they’d devote their mind and essence to. In today’s world, men simply have gotten so spoiled — while I’ve seen countless women cry buckets because they couldn’t get the love and fidelity they think they deserve from their mates. I’ve encountered numerous men who’ve had the ongoing habit of dropping smoochy fuzzy murky lines – as if viewing and expecting all women were lamebrained to interpret them only foolishly. As well as men who’d give so little and envisage the ladies to do the rest of the work at the beginning or in the middle of the relationship.

To young gals out there: We women have experienced how to be fervently and truly loved at least once in our lives. So if the dude just doesn’t make you feel special or doesn’t deem you a most valuable gift from the universe, be at your sensible best. Realize it’s never there in the first place. And you must have the good sense not to waste your time so you’d be able to move on.The sea remains teeming with good fish. Hopefully.

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I have a very small circle. The moment I feel like someone is using me or is in it for the wrong reasons, I have zero guilt about just cutting them the f*ck out of my life. My bullshit detector is that phenomenal. 

—	Jennifer Lawrence (via wnq-movies)

I demand unconditional love and complete freedom. That is why I am terrible.

—	Tomaz Salamun  (via thelovejournals)

Repercussions To Be Expected

With my last piece, I chose to risk losing all my male blog pals for the slim chance my message would reach the consciousness of even a sole female in our blogosphere. I am tired of filtering out my words here so as not to slight my supposed buddies in any way. But the truth remains cultivating online friendship was not what I originally came here for. It would make me much happier using this medium as ground for expressing what’s on my mind – including the views I’ve held on for several years.

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What was surprising was the dissenting assault that came from a mother in her early 30s, who not once did pay attention to my blog and who I tried to be nice to because, like me, she has had very few followers. Now I know she would dip her toes here – only if she could pounce on something and flex her belligerent disposition. The sharp sting in her particular post is in accordance with the sharp features of her face anyway. Methinks her reaction signifies her marriage sucks and there’s very little she can do about it. Absurd as it was, she even implicated my recent loss and family tragedy as instrumental to my post that dealt with my sensitive views about men and women. What’s the connection? Her comprehension must have gotten misplaced, most probably.

My message for you, married lady with kids: Since you’re younger than me (which translates to the reality I’ve learned nothing from your blog), and your English and writing competence not a bit impressive (to think that you are white), and you haven’t really said anything worthwhile on your site (it does little whether your name is Amy or Nasty btw), you are best advised to spew your vitriol here than doing it at “Your Place” as I don’t intend to click open your blog anymore. Rest assured, I’ll publish your comments and we can have an exchange of perspectives, if necessary.

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If there was any apology to be offered by me, it could only be for the one who served as the locomotive for my previous post. I’m sure she wouldn’t be pleased if she knew the inspiration for that article germinated from reading her pages. My only point then was: if a beautiful, accomplished, well-experienced, talented, single woman would give that whole lot of unnecessary power to men over her life, what chance do average women like me have in gaining or maintaining some respect from the male readers of our blogging world? And where else could the rest of us find fitting role models who’d refuse to let men emotionally monopolize their lives? It’s crystal clear men have needed women more than women needed men, yet the majority of us gals, in comparison, are on emotional overkill just to earn the presence of some dude in our lives.

Maybe I had been guilty of the same deed, too. I couldn’t really tell. But I’m willing to mend my ways, if need be, and try harder to manage singlehood with more dignity. Maybe we could raise awareness for the benefit of the younger ladies who have every right to compel the guys in their lives to treat them better.

Prostitution, gender bias, and other discrimination issues have long been plaguing our role as the other half of humanity on this planet. Perhaps the least we could do is start shaping the minds of the younger generation that females are not as helpless, or dependent on male validation the way we always think we are.

There is hope for that, I believe.

The Delight of Being “One of the Boys”

Having a relationship with a man can be emotionally draining for me. I have often struggled with the notion that the presence of a man in my life in a romantic sense isn’t worth it at all if he can’t make me happy. I guess I’m such a dreamer when it comes to love. I’ve been told recently that the kind of love we dream of is increasingly impossible to find especially as one gets older. Sad but true. I can be ok with that though. I resolve I’d rather be alone for the rest of my life than compromise my ideals. But I’ll expound on that next time in another post. Meanwhile, what I want to express here is the kind of pleasure I get in having men as simply “buddies.” Just plain, good ole buddies. Because men are such interesting species despite their frailties and uh, “wickedness.”  I do like men but they can occasionally or often be a “pain in the ass.” Having one as a boyfriend most probably would just give me trouble than pure bliss. So why don’t I just enjoy them as mere pals or chums? I must be a whiz gal to come up with that, right?

I’ve always enjoyed the company of the opposite gender. Sure I’ve had rotten experiences with a few of them in the romance department, but that doesn’t dismay me in continuing to build or nurture friendships with them. They can be really nice and delightful as comrades. It’s always been a pleasure having them around in my life. A lot of laughter and joy has ensued in my life because these particular breed of humans are humorous, fun and breezy to be with. They lack the pettiness that you usually find in female friends. And I like the fact that in contrast to women, men will never tire you of empty verbiage (unless of course the man is gay). They are not that fond too of non-stop talking. Just like me. Yours truly is usually quiet and reserved.

If you truly want to enjoy them as the opposite gender, you have to do away with mushy emotions and deal with them in a direct, casual manner. You don’t need to understand them perfectly well if you just want to be pals with them. They’re very simple to deal with. They can be easy to please. They may get impatient though when they have to conduct themselves in shades of gray, so their choices must be strictly limited to black and white. That is, if you don’t want them to become bona fide pricks. I swear they’ll thank you dearly if you could go straight to the point when you talk to them. Any attempt for a sappy exchange is a waste of time. Likewise, sharing of soulful sentiments can be a herculean task. The downside with having them as friends is the frustration you’ll get by the shallowness of your communication with each other. They can’t be arsed to want to talk about deep feelings, except if they’re in danger of getting dumped in their jobs. In case you don’t know, only one thing can rightfully obsess them.  And that is their job or work.

I guess John Gray got it so right in telling that Men are from Mars, Women from Venus. Men and women seem to have come from different planets indeed. No need to even mention the asteroids and other heavenly bodies that may get in between. 🙂

In my case, I may not fully comprehend their behavior and actions but I pretty much have an idea what goes on in a man’s psyche. I can switch my mode of thinking to their level once I start hanging around or dealing with them. Most men I’ve dealt and transacted with at work have sort of complimented me on how I could be comfortable in their presence. Ehem. I believe I had a lot of practice in my younger years. I wasn’t the flowery, delicate kind of girl then. I raced around, played basketball, climbed trees, participated in other sports, and chased dragonflies with the other boys in the neighborhood. Most of the best friends I had from grade school to university were male. When I was young, my brother and I were the best of pals, which goes to say he became my favorite sibling. And as you may all know by now, my father is my favorite parent as he figures heavily in some of my posts here.

Having them as buddies and having them as lovers are totally distinct. Given my current status, do they sometimes misinterpret my friendliness and harbor the idea I’d be willing to hook up with them? Of course they do. I believe all men welcome those thoughts in the company of their female close friends. But once I’ve managed to enlighten them with the truth subtly, they eventually get the message that their companionship and goodwill are the only things I need from them.

Last year, only three male teachers were left for permanency status in our school (the rest are all female). A gay man in his late 30s, a married man in his mid 30s and a straight guy in his mid- 20s who’s been engaged to his girlfriend for years. So I felt safe when I penetrated my way into their exclusive club to become a fellow camaraderie. You see, I have this ability to be quite friendly if I choose to. It didn’t take long before I totally blended and was considered to be “one of the guys.” For several months, it had been great to be part of the group. Hanging around during break time, having lunch together, shooting the breeze about plenty of matters in our lives. And you can just imagine the things I heard when they talked about women. When I’m with them, I don’t expect them to treat me any differently. I’m older than these male colleagues of mine but delightfully, they tend to forget that when we’re having a conversation or kidding around.

As expected, most good things never last. Alas, late last year the “straight” guy had to quit teaching for the greener pastures of a call center job. It wouldn’t be fun anymore without him so we sort of disbanded. Things couldn’t be the same without our “youngest brother.”

We still keep in touch once in a while and are still friendly toward one another. Yet I’ve come to miss those times every now and then. It’s such a pleasure having men as friends. That much will always be true for me.