Valentine’s Day for Single Women

If there is one thing I have come to learn and come to terms with, it’s this: Marriage is not for everyone. Pretty much like being single is not for everyone. Both take effort and struggles that do not necessarily coincide with each other but yeah. Each scenario has problems that’s all their own.

I remain single by choice because it’s where I feel I am most comfortable. Friends and people have tried and will try to apply all sorts of psychology in figuring me out, in finding reasons why oh why OH WHY am I stubbornly remaining single . They tell me this isn’t what I want. Sooner or later, I would come around and would want to find a nice young man and eventually get married and have kids. It sounds nice. It sounds like a dream. Sure, I’m not closing my doors on that option. But. But but but…

But what if that’s not for me? What if I am:

a) meant to be on my own or
b) meant to become a single mom

I'm single and I'm busy living my life the way I know how.

Then what? Would the sky fall over my head and will my life end? I think that life would go on and I would simply adapt to the situation, making the best of what’s around. And the good part? I’m wholly in my element. I know it’s where I belong, it’s where I know my own self best.

Dear God,

Thank You for not bringing me that guy I asked you for all those years ago. Or the one from 2008. Or ’11. Or the one from that REALLY crazy request last month.

Thank You for loving me enough to NOT answer my prayers.

Thank You for teaching me that flying solo can create the strongest wings… and that being a brave single girl is a beautiful thing.

Thank You for reminding me through my earthly father what a protective covering should REALLY be…and unclouding my vision when I am blind and can’t seem to see what’s not good for me.

Thank You for showing me when I’m settling… and when I ignore You, thank You for meddling.

Thank You for sending me guys who didn’t love me enough…to remind me of what I’m worthy of.

Thank You for standing back & allowing me to make my own mistakes and to find my own way.

And when I crashed and burned because it was the only way to REALLY learn, thanks for not saying “I told you so.”

Thank You for holding my hand, even if I can’t feel it… For collecting the pieces of my broken heart, when I’m powerless to heal it… For being my strength, when I can’t be it… For guiding my path, when it’s dark and I can’t see it.

Most of all, thank You for loving me enough to keep me to yourself a little longer…And for using my weakness to make others stronger.

I love you. Amen.

source: The Single Woman

image source: carbonated

* note: I have changed the years mentioned in the prayer above (the first paragraph).


No Time to Blink

And then the crazy man came and everything happened so fast. I didn't even have the time to blink.

Note: This happened last week but it left me traumatized. I absolutely cannot stand within the perimeter of that spot (where it happened) without looking around, paranoid that he is going to pop up out of thin air and then there would be a repeat of what happened.

After having just crossed the highway at half past five in the morning, I breathed a sigh of relief and uttered a quick but heartfelt thank you prayer. I was still alive! All my body parts are still intact!

And so I stood there on the side of the road, waiting for a jeepney to arrive. Then in the corner of my eye, I saw a man heading my direction. I glanced to my right and saw a couple of other people around. A glance to my left and I noticed that the man was crazy. Had loose screws in his head. He looked disheveled and filthy. And he was talking to himself. Angrily. With even angrier gestures. I couldn’t understand what he was ranting about but I could hear curse words every two seconds.

As the man drew nearer, I stepped away casually, plucking myself out of his path. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to mess with a crazy, angry man.

So I stayed away. He got nearer. And then suddenly… BAM! That crazy man smacked me at the back of my head, calling me names. He was VERY angry. I think my jaw dropped, literally. It dropped at the same time I saw stars dancing before my eyes, to the beat of the honking automobile horns. Right after the rush of sudden pain was annoyance. And then annoyance quickly turned to anger. I thought of hitting him with my bag (a rather large one filled with non-office related stuff). But then after that, what? You cannot get into a fight with a crazy person. Especially one who has the tendency to get physical.

And what about the other people near me? Apparently, I couldn’t turn to them for help. They witnessed the whole thing and yet no one dared to move. I was on my own.

Before I could react any further, the crazy man stepped into the highway and then crossed the road without so much as a glance to the oncoming speeding vehicles. He was absolutely crazy. He could’ve gotten killed!

But he didn’t. No such drama ensued. He got safely to the other side of the highway. Clearly, God has a soft spot for the crazy ones.

As for me, days and days later, I am still on my toes whenever I stand on the same spot where I was smacked on the head.

image source: Kevin Dooley

Saturday! Sunday!

Saturday and Sunday: It’s past ten-thirty in the morning and I am still in bed. Know why? Because I wanted to make up for all those times I had to wake up at past four in the morning from Monday all the way to Friday. And so I sleep in during weekends. (Unless I made plans with friends on weekends and they involve me getting up early. But I weasel my way out of this by always suggesting we meet after lunch.)

It used to be that for me, weekends meant parties and hitting random places where I could laugh and talk and drink with my friends. All right, that’s not truth in its entirety. So I used to spend weekends downing drinks, wherever. But now? Now that I have broken up with Vodka & Friends? Weekends mean any of these:

  • stay holed up at home having a DVD marathon or catching up on my reading
  • running errands with my mother
  • hanging out at random places (alcohol is replaced by scrambles, donuts, pizzas, etc.)

I think I must be getting old but I reckon this refusal for alcohol is rooted to one particular heartbreak. Drinking reminds me of him. Ergo, chuck away drinking in my list. Does that make sense? It’s okay if it doesn’t. Heck, it doesn’t make sense to me half the time.

I spent this particular weekend on three things:

Tate Langdon goes for blood in "American Horror Story"
Tate goes for blood in "American Horror Story"

Finally finished “American Horror Story” and it has gotten vicious, more intense and more interesting towards the end. Gotta love it! And can I just say that the characters there are totally sick? But the most interesting one for me is Tate. I mean, talk about wolf in a sheep’s clothing. Talk about the devil in disguise. I had to pinch myself at times just so I would not be sucked into his oddly charming, lost little boy persona and actually think he is actually a nice guy who just got lost along the way.

Stephanie Plum novels
Truly laugh out loud moments in ALL of the books in this series.

Got hooked on the Stephanie Plum novels by Janet Evanovich. This series is just full of quirky, interesting and lovable characters who made me laugh out loud more times than I could count. At one point, both my parents even asked why I was laughing and I just pointed to the book in my hand.

Sleeping in during weekends is awesome!

And of course, I slept for hours and hours and hours. I was almost disappointed that Prince Charming hasn’t kissed me awake yet. I mean, Valentine’s Day is just around the corner. Dude, you gotta speed up.

image sources: Tate/”American Horror Story”, Stephanie Plum novels, Sleeping Beauty

To Add to the Bucket List

I thought that the Peanut Butter Moo’d from Jamba Juice was enough to make my day last Sunday. But no. NO. Because it gets even better after that. My friend told me about a Fully Booked branch in that place (Bonifacio High Street, Taguig) where there is Starbucks inside. You guys! You know what that means, right? Free reading + the scent of coffee permeating the place = Ohmygodijustdiedandwenttoheaven!

I just died and went to heaven.
I just died and went to heaven.

So I filed it in my mental todo list that I should make it a point to hang out at the bookstore in High Street. Right after buying a book or two. After purchasing my favorite weaknesses, I shall occupy a table in Starbucks there and then drool over read my new book. Or maybe I can start writing again. Something decent and not the hasty short proses I’ve lulled myself into creating. Who knows? Weirder things had happened.

Ah, that tingly feeling of having your own blog.
Ah, that tingly feeling of having your own blog.

And because time is gold and hey! Carpe diem, right? I will buy a website and design and edit my own blog. Widgets! Plugins! Photoshop! Textures! Brushes! (I am riding in cloud nine as I visualize all this in my head.)

AND THEN. And then I will write. I will pick up where I last left off with a fiction I have written two years ago, which is sporadically being edited and updated. Irregular outbursts of ideas. Absolutely unreliable.

"I think you lost what you loved in that mess of details."

If I’m not going to write, I will at least create something, be it a handmade collage or some graphics. My muse has been shriveling up and has learned a couple of swear words. I’m afraid it will either leave me or end up dead. So. Save the muse! Waste not thy creativity!

Save, save, save, SAVE FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!

Also, I need to save up. This one I cannot emphasize enough. If I could, I would put up a blinking sign at the foot of my bed that says, “Save up money, dammit!” Just so I could let that sink in each and every time I wake up and go to bed. Note to self: Color of this sign could be black and white or pale, pale yellow and royal blue. I’m receptive to those colors. They could help in inspiring my drive to save up. *cough cough* Who knows? *cough cough*

image sources: Fully Booked, I’m Blogging This, Inspiration, Piggy Bank

I Know, But…

I am in love.


But it has nothing to do with a person. It has something to do with this TV show that I have recently been hooked into.

Not your ordinary fairy tales.

Yes, this is the “Grimm” TV series which kicked off last year. It reminded a little (just a little) of “Supernatural.” What fascinated me about this one is that they gave something else to the term “fairy tales.”

Nick researching
The lead character, Nick, researching on his current supernatural enemy.

The story started when Nick, a cop, discovers he is the last in the line of Grimms. Know all those fairy tales you read about, written by the brothers Grimm? It turns out that those aren’t merely fairy tales at all but documentations of all the supernatural forces they have encountered over the years. And this cop Nick is the last in the line of descendants. And there the story unravels.

Grimm tree creature
Hello, supernatural creature!

He encounters different creatures. Yes, there’s the Big Bad Wolf, the Three Little Pigs and others more. But the first scary one I saw in the first episode? This:

Grimm - girl zombie
Holy crap. This scared me!

This one was too reminiscent of those… things I saw in the horror movie from way back, “The Exorcism of Emily Rose.” And needless to say, that movie scared the crap out of me. Here is another screen capture, just because I want to scare myself even more:

Grimm - girl zombie nurse
What if your nurse looked like this one???

I think the show is good mainly because the pacing is enough to keep you on edge and the twists just keep you guessing. Also, it doesn’t hurt that Nick is HAWT.

Grimm - Nick pointing a gun
If Nick points a gun at me, I would be smiling & feeling lucky. Too hot to handle, this guy is.

And I like how efficient the tandem is. Cops Nick and Hank? Funny, reliable, alert, solid as rocks, and witty as hell. What’s not to love about them?

Grimm - Hank & Nick
Cop buddies, Nick & Hank, can handle any case with humor and efficiency. Plus points for them!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: I’m in love. I’m in love with this show. I owe my brother for telling me about this one but when I told him about my gratefulness, he said to me, “What are you talking about? I never mentioned to you this ‘Grimm’ TV series. I meant the movie! You got the wrong Grimm reference!” Okay. So I did get my hands on the wrong Grimm but hey. That error was destined to fill my weekends, to make me look forward to kicking back and relaxing on a weekend night, totally glued to the TV.

P.S. Watch out for another character, a reformed wolf named Eddie Monroe. He is funny and adorable and I think he has OCD.

Grimm - Eddie Monroe (Big Bad Wolf)
The reformed Big Bad Wolf (a.k.a. The Clockmaker).

Image sources: “Grimm” poster, Monroe in wolf form, Monroe in human form, “Grimm” photos