I LOVE IT

Some Women

Again, SOME, not all, SOME.

(Original piece written for a magazine column I was writing from 2001 to 2003. I've edited it a bit for this posting.)

Four girls and New York: a premise for a show that holds infinite possibilities. Sex and The City - not just about women, not just about the men in their lives, not just about sexually transmittable diseases but also most definitely about the desperation in all of us.

In search for the love that defines their lives, why do women fall for men who fall short of their ideal? Probable answer: They fear being alone. In a society that puts a premium on trophies (that Prada bag, the 3-carat diamond on your finger, that man - good-looking or otherwise - who could buy those for you), people find security in a partner. Some women want to be seen as prized, wanted, and taken. They believe that there is no logical explanation why beautiful, intelligent, successful women like themselves remain single and unattached. There is, you must admit, a certain thrill (or pride) and wanting in belonging to someone.

They unconsciously get into relationship traps because they all have Pollyanna views of relationships. They have to be perfect because their partners are perfect. That is why at the first sign of trouble, they panic and unleash the drama queen in them. At the beginning of a relationship, he is the best one a girl could ever have – he is sweet, attentive, handsome, intelligent, and sexy. Towards the end of the affair, he can just be described in one word – ASSHOLE!

They fear and hate being alone. Worse, they loathe the prospect of being with no one. There is a quiet desperation in all of them. They manifest this in many different ways – heightened vanity, posing to be helpless and behaviour that can best be described as coquettish.

If women were just to be themselves, confident about their entire person and what they have to offer, they’d have men eating off the palms of their hands. But because they can be insecure, they act in the most surprising of ways. And when they finally meet a man whom they think is the answer to their hunger, they eat him up with drama. That is why the Mr. Big’s will never be as big as they really are.

Almost a Decade Ago

I've edited this piece just a tad...

Watched My Best Friend's Wedding last night.
Lessons learned:

•Tell the object of your affection what you feel very early on. If you don’t, you will regret it.

•Don’t ever commit to stupid agreements like getting married when you reach a certain age. Though agreements like the one in the movie might be spur of the moment, it'll affect you for a lifetime, that is of course, if it takes you that much time to find a mate.

•Let loose in a karaoke bar. You may sing out of tune but you can be cute. All in the spirit of fun.

•Never lick a dick in public. Even if it is an ice sculpture.

•Never tell your parnter about the love of your life.
He will never be able to live up to the other's traits. This'll create a lot of pent-up jealousy. Though true love is secure, not all relationships can claim true love.

•Walk away.
Only when all has been said and done - and the fruits of your maneuverings are not to your liking.

•Never ever call anyone your own.
No one is proprietarily yours until that person holds you in the same context.

•Though it is wonderful to reminisce about old times, don’t let these memories cloud your reality. Experiences about romance can be overwhelming. Keep in mind that they are merely experiences now. Learn from and cherish these. Live and lead a better life. No use dwelling in the past.

•Never beg anyone to marry you.
Pathetic.

One Can't Claim to be a Victim

From Paulo Coelho's The Witch of Portobello:

No one can manipulate anyone else. In any relationship, both parties know what they're doing, even if one of them complains later on that they were used.

Vas-te faire foutre!!

One fuckface had the temerity to post a comment on my I Am Filipino posting asking about the "substance of the phrase (ie proud to be Filipino) when 90% of our countrymen are living below the poverty line." The writer, whom to me is unknown, was also audacious enough to tell me what to do with my earnings. (I've chosen to reject that comment from my posting because I can.)

Excuse me, fuckface, as I vomit over your militant pronouncements.

I have done fairly well for myself. I wasn't born with a silver spoon and I know what it is like to have very little. With perserverance, skill, hard work, and milking every learning opportunity that was presented to me, I've moved on to better circumstances without stepping on anyone's toes or trampling on egos.

If I can, others can, too. And it shouldn't take militant agenda by other fuckfaces to further the cause of improving lives and eliminating poverty. Continue wallowing in poverty and you will get nothing done to improve your situation. Stop being sorry for yourselves and get up! Get rid of that ridiculously bloated sense of entitlement - believing that the world and others owe you. Don't pull others down when they are up. Don't be jealous, be inspired.

Perhaps fuckface hasn't lived abroad and hasn't had to deal with all the negativity ascribed to Filipinos. I live everyday abroad showing the other citizens of the world that a Filipino can be good, successful, ethical, decent, honest, honorable and trustworthy.

I am proud of Filipino talent. Every Christmas, I give friends of many, many different nationalities an original music CD of a Filipino artist. Last Christmas it was Lani Misalucha's CD. In previous years I'd given out Regine's, Freestyle's, Janno's, Nina's and MYMP's among many others. That's how I choose to spend my money at the same time promote Filipino talent so that others may learn to appreciate it.

The mere suggestion of fuckface on how to use my money pisses me off. How would you all feel if I told you what to do with your money? If you earn it, you have every right to do whatever with it that pleases you. And unless you, fuckface, become the hand that feeds me, you should just keep your inanity between your ears.

Gracious

gra·cious (grshs) adj.
Characterized by kindness and warm courtesy.

Exactly what I experienced yesterday at the grocery picking up lunch of rotisserie chicken and ribs from Cold Storage at Great World City.

I approached the counter and looked over the selection and made my choices. The attendant had her back turned from the counter and was still busy cleaning the oven and so I waited. Looking to my left I saw that another customer had arrived and was checking out the offerings of the day.

After what seemed to be 45 seconds, I directed an "Excuse me..." to the lady behind the counter. She quickly turned, said hello and assessed the two customers who were in front of her.

She asked what I wanted. I asked for a whole chicken cut into quarters. For a moment she had a look that I could only describe as "how troublesome." She then said, "You wait, ah." Then in Chinese she must have asked the man beside me what he wanted.

Speaking in Chinese the man must have told the lady to attend to me first since I had arrived first. I can only guess this as I don't speak Chinese. But the lady did say to me, "Really sorry ah. Anything else?" I asked if she could give me a serving of ribs.

As she took the ribs and packed my food orders, I quickly turned to the man on my left to thank him. He said, "So, you're from overseas." I said, "Yes, I am Filipino." He smiled geniunely.

As the lady put my orders on top of the counter she again apologized, "Really sorry. Really sorry ah," to which I said "Thank you. No worries."

Putting the chicken and ribs in the basket, I turned to this gracious middle-aged man to thank him. As we said our goodbyes, I could only think about what a kind gesture of giving I just experienced. So to him, again I say thank you. Food eaten and digested. The gesture relished and appreciated.

I will remember to pay this forward.

I am Filipino

I finally got my IC early this week. My permanent residence application in Singapore was approved and I had to do the needful to complete all the tests and paperwork for the IC.

When I approached counter 36, the immigration officer told me that the ladies at the back were playing a guessing game as to what my nationality was based on the name on my folder. Apparently the entire list of the United Nations had been recited and no one guessed that I was Filipino until they noticed my middle name: Aquino. (Thank you, Cory, for making the name known.

I am Filipino and proudly so. I remember that in high school a friend of mine, Eileen, said that she'd like to be an extraordinary Filipino rather than just an ordinary Filipino. Another friend had just said the he was just an ordinary Pinoy when asked to describe himself.

What Eileen said that day has stayed with me since. I try to be the best that I can be everyday, in everything that I do. I do this, too, because I live outside the Philippines where Filipinos are stereotyped.

I first "represented" the Philippines in a cultural exchange program sponsored by the Lions Club of France in 1991 for French-speaking youth from all over the world. I was the first Pinoy that the Lions Club had ever invited and I knew this having been told by my professors at Alliance Francaise where I had been taking French for close to 4 years. I was so proud of the accomplishment. In Paris, I was hosted by the mayor of a small town. In this little village in the South of France called Hyeres, a family with a fantastic house and an awesome yacht listened to me sing in Tagalog.

Taking on a regional role out of Hong Kong in 2000, I had to manage a multicultural staff and agencies. I had to show them work in the Philippines can translate and be used as a measure regionally and implemented in local markets.

I took it upon myself to do good and show something different. I didn't want to be stereotyped. And that holds true until today in Singapore. You know how it is, rightly or not, one major mistake and you're dismissed as just another Filipino. I think am on the right track having had my work acknowledged not just regionally but globally as well. I have trophies to prove this claim. :-)

Am dark but not pango (thanks to the Quesada bloodline, my lola on my mother's side). Growing up I was always conscious of my skin tone. So, hello Eskinol. It was only when I moved to Hong Kong that I started to appreciate the color of my skin as more and more people were giving me compliments. Kasi naman sa Pilipinas the general measure of beauty is that of being maputi. Now I call that maputla. So now, I don't have a concern with the color of my skin. I embrace my ethnic exotic color.

Having to travel for work, am often mistaken for Japanese when am in Taiwan and Japan. Thai when in Bangkok and in Jakarta. Vietnamese when when in HCM or Hanoi and during one trip to Vegas. And a band singer in Hong Kong (a taxi asked me that once). In Singapore, the immigration officer asked me if my family were originally from Greece. She wasn't the first one to think that. I remember taking my California driving test in the late 80's when the instructor asked me if I were from Greece after looking at my last name on the record.

Am a big fan of OPM. My favorite song is Ambon by True Faith. And I have Tina Paner's original version of Tamis Ng Unang Halik in my iPod. I eagerly follow Philippine Idol and check YouTube everyday for updates. I like Pow and Mau.

I kinda lost the plot here with the rambling. I guess my point is that though I live elsewhere and have experienced travel and been exposed to many different cultures, my sensitivities are still truly Filipino.