Feed My Vanity

It’s been a long time since I’ve spent time in a coffee shop writing ever since I entered the corporate world, my dear imaginary readers. Anyway, I’m in a coffeeshop in Makati at 1AM right now, so might as well share a call I received in the middle of the night from a good friend of mine. I knew that something was bothering him because he actually asked for advice, which he rarely does.

The dilemma: He’s a serial womanizer, but already committed. But now he says he met someone he likes beyond, uhhh, HAVING RELATIONS. He said she made him feel fuzzy inside.

But I knew him too well, knew that something was not quite right.

HIM: But I actually like TALKING to her.

ME: You do not like her. You are just bored.

HIM: You don’t understand, I’m not interested in (HAVING RELATIONS) with her anymore. I actually want to get to know her better.

ME: You do not like her. You are just bored.

HIM: She makes me feel fuzzy inside.

ME: There’s a difference between liking somebody for their brain, and making somebody an escape.

HIM: Damnnit! I hate you. But you are right.

Oh yeah, fistbump there imaginary dear readers. Who knew my sleep-fogged brain was still capable in coming up with sh!t like that?

Anyhoo. I’ve always known emotions are tricky buggers. They turn you voluntarily blind, make you do stupid things, make you turn your back on the familiar just for a new thrill. But in the end when the fog dissapates, IT WILL SUCK. The aforementioned might sound like symptoms of love (or “like”, my friend, I knew, will not say love), but at the end of the day, you will look for a reason to love a person. And not just any other reason, it’s a reason that will compose such a large part of you that you know it can never be the same with another person. That reason might not conjure stars and fireworks, but it will be the reason for that person to be the one. It might not be exciting, but it’s what will tell you that you are home.

Here’s something that always bothered me: How do you know if you are settling?

This thought has crossed my mind since I was in high school, the likeliest time when hormones are on a rage and you thought you knew everything there is to know about love. Anyway, I only remembered this when I had coffee with a friend who never had a boyfriend her whole life, and she’s wondering how to say no to a guy who told her “I am an underachiever”. Somehow the conversation led to “How many red flags should you allow before kicking his no-good a$$ to the curb” to the eternal “what if I never find THE ONE.”

But going back to the original question: how do you know if you are settling? Where is the line between settling and being plain obnoxious that your notion of what love is supposed to be doesn’t measure up to reality? Does it mean that since you have very different ideas of what a night out should be that maybe it’s time to go on separate ways since that may fall under settling?

Is it your fault if your love life doesn’t end with happily ever after?

Also, is it your fault if you’re not one of the lucky few to have bumped into your designated THE ONE? To not be one of the lucky lucky few to find him/her?

What if you had laundry that needed folding that night and your designated THE ONE chose that very night to drop by your favorite Starbucks branch which you didn’t go to that night because you can no longer ignore that mountain of laundry you had to fold?

Just to be clear, I am in a relationship and I’m happy. I just wanted to vent because these standards we set ourselves can just be the very things that screw us.  The questions I asked are questions that never really have concrete answers, so why should there be concrete ways to know you are settling?

Of course there are the obvious reasons: domestic abuse, laziness, selfishness, a general dislike for the occult, and so on. But what if you got on so splendidly that it doesn’t seem so splendid because there is no conflict for comparison?

Oh well, it’s one of those nights. Goodnight dear imaginary readers.

I have a friend who’s NBSB.

No Boyfriend Since Birth.

People act as if there’s something wrong with that. Duh. It’s not as if there’s a smorgasbord of desirable men out there! It’s a Catch 22 thing, it’s either she settles or she keeps the title of NBSB.

Anyway, while we were on our way to the John Mayer concert (which should be another post entirely), she told me that her officemate gave her tips on “snagging” a guy.

Friend: she told me that when on a date I should bite my lips

… and when the soup arrives, I should ask in a “come hither” tone “How do you like your soup?”

…I’d try it, except I think I’d come across as a psycho. 

Anyway, courting is a strange thing. It’s really a natural animal instinct. Men puff their chests, and apparently women bite their lips. I’m not going to deny that there’s a certain game involved in dating, but where’s the thrill in simply laying out the cards on the table?

I’d like to think all of us have our own way of making landi (flirting), and there are diverse ways of flirting without sacrificing yourself and coming across as a psycho who’s fixated in soup.

It’s probably very refreshing to be a guy and then have the girl do the asking out for once.

But not if then she  blows you off although you’ve never as much had a conversation with her for her to discover that sometimes you can eat like a pig.

Anyway, that’s exactly the dilemma of a guy friend. He was invited by the girl to go out, only for her to just suddenly leave with her friends JUST AS HE ARRIVED at the meeting place.

The following day he said to me out of nowhere that he knows how to be invisible to specific people in facebook chat. I couldn’t resist asking him who he was hiding from. And he told me what happened. Here’s our conversation:

ME: Don’t go offline on her in facebook chat. Just don’t.

HIM: Why?! I’m so pissed off with her, and I don’t want to chat with her just yet.

ME: You like this girl? Go online. Make sure you chat with somebody on facebook so there will be a  little green light next to your name indicating you’re talking to someone else.

(He goes online, girl then asks how he is and that she’s sorry she left)

Me: Tell her it’s okay, then leave it at that. Let’s go down for a smoke.

(after 15 minutes)

Me: Tell her you’re cool with what happened and she shouldn’t worry but it’s busy in the office.

Him: What?!

Me: Just do it! Don’t reply to any of her messages after that.

(after 7 hours)

Him: She texted and asked me what’s up! High five! But then what should I tell her?

Me: Tell her you’re okay, and ask her how she’s doing. She’ll probably say she’s okay also and indicate her schedule is free which is the bait for you to ask her out.

DON’T.

Him: Uh-huh, uh-huh, I think I understand now.

Me: Ask her out after a day or two.

=====

Oh well, men are such cavemen and we girls are too evolved, but the game is too irresistible. But the question is, why do we like it when people play hard to get? Is it a primeval gene that manifests only when we’re , well, typically being animals (scoping out a mate, puffing our chests, preening, etc.)?

Are women by nature, masochists? Or we’re used to enduring physical and mental pain instilled to us since puberty?

Think about it, we get our periods and it hurts like hell. After a while we learn to just get used to having it every month. Like an inconvenience we just need to deal with wearily. We take painkillers that at least even though something is dripping down there, at least we won’t feel it. Not to mention dragging ourselves to work although we feel fat and bloated because of the hormones.

Having one’s period is a mental and physical game. In effect it makes women stronger then turn into masochists who think that they can take anything, then ask why they age the way the do.

But then that’s just a theory.