Marriage --- Not Today (Maybe Tomorrow?)

As most things in most people’s lives, I just happened on this article by Tracy McMillan (I initially thought the author was Terry McMillan, author of Waiting to Exhale and How Stella Got Her Groove Back who was also likely to come up with something like this) and as most cases in a socially-networked world, I posted it on Facebook and texted a friend I had an article I wanted to send her (she said NO, haha).  Obviously, the title caught my attention: “Why You Are Not Married”.  As a single woman in my 30s, I wanted to know why.  So yes, I wanted answers!  Now na!

(Of course, as McMillan mentioned in an interview about this article, this piece does not apply to women who really do not want to get married).

In sum, the article underlined the following points directed at me (the readers, I mean) as to why girls like me are not married: You’re a Bitch, You’re Shallow, You’re a Slut, You’re a Liar, You’re Selfish, You’re Not Good Enough.

And frankly, even though the headliners are harsh, I found them to be absolutely true.  And I find them to be true among my single girlfriends.

The first point is anger and I think this spans beyond the normal definition of angry.  We like to complain about many things, and a good single woman complaint is, “Why is he such a jerk?” We spend a lot of our energy figuring out why this guy stopped calling, why he didn’t continue the relationship, why he cheated.  Of course we have the right to be angry, especially if not treated right.  Heck, I wanted to strangle someone’s neck a couple of weeks ago, and if I saw him today I’d probably punch him in the face.  See what I mean?  We have the tendency to get stuck in this anger that it emanates from our… aura.   We’re angry at the system, the government, blah blah.  And sometimes we end up acting too defensive and aggressive that guys pick up on the vibes, you know? 

And seriously, we women pick up negative vibes as well which explains we have become experts in hiding from certain types of men, right?  We remain to be queens of rejection, especially as Filipinas we freely exercise that thing called basted…  or busted --- how do you freaking spell this word?  Anyway.

The thing is we can be bitches because we don’t treat people nicely… even when you just want to be mean and give someone a good slap.  See, there is a place for expressing anger and in my opinion, when a man disrespects you and abuses you, yay, go ahead.  Being rough around the edges does not mean you have to be rough.

The second point is mainly about having weird thoughts about marriage/commitment and the definition of one’s self.  Self-explanatory.  The thing is, some women may say crazy things like they prefer a Greek god or someone with the money because their character will make up for the relationship.  Eh?

Third point --- come on, girls.  Like I always say, if a man has a one-night stand, there’s another woman involved (ergo, if men do not want to be judged engaging in one women must not be judged as well).  So what I am saying is, if this is the kind of lifestyle that one does not want to give up, obviously marriage is out of the question.  Unless it’s an open one.

Fourthly --- now this hits the jackpot.  Sometimes we settle because we do not want to lose the “relationship”.  If you want to get married and you are ready to get married, stand up for it.  Hence, don’t complain that you are not married yet if you are slutting around and your press release is “You just want to have fun”.  Now that’s lying.

Second to the last, selfishness is something one does not want to admit because he or she is too selfish to admit it.  You’re not married because your world obviously still revolves around you, and this “you” includes --- yes --- the good and the bad.  You are your ambitions (good) and your “issues” (bad).  You are your history (which you need to resolve and be at peace with) and your circumstances (and you choose to be a victim or not).  So yes, when a guy says “It’s not you”, I believe it is you --- because there are pieces of you that just break the deal.  And obviously, to put it simply, he is just not that into you.

What to do?  Move on.  Look for someone who would love to handle your crap the same way we, essentially, are just looking for someone whose crap we can and want to handle because of... love (and other relevant conditions).

Here’s the thing: there’s a difference being selfish and loving yourself.  I don’t have to explain it: you have to reflect on it yourself.  If you have found someone you can love beyond yourself, congratulations.  If this person does not love you back, well, call it material and write a movie/novel/essay/blog post about it.  Ka-ching!

And lastly, “being not good enough”.  What this point really says is we up the standards on our “ideal” partners because we want someone better than ourselves.  Years ago, I described my ideal partner as someone who is a lawyer, someone who plays the piano, and someone over six feet.  Seriously… but not literally.  I just realized I am not looking for someone “better” than me but rather these categories are pretty symbolic.  I want someone who is knowledgeable and has wisdom, someone I can talk to and someone I can have a discussion with.  I want someone with admirable traits (piano players just mesmerize me).  And --- alright --- I want someone (way) taller than me, tee-hee.  Humor and attractiveness (to me) are staples anyway.

Does this mean I want someone better than me?  More on that after this paragraph.

So I guess this article just highlights why I am not married yet: I needed to resolve my issues as an individual, I needed to define what a lifetime of commitment (marriage) is for me, I am still having fun and meeting different people, I didn’t know what I want, and there are many things that I still want to accomplish as a single person.  I have to say that I am still evolving, and like that “missing piece” in Shel Silverstein’s phenomenal work, I will continue rolling  even if I am broken, chipped, and even damaged. 

And of course, the other real reason --- and the answer to --- I am not married is I haven’t met my equal yet.  I am such a catch.  

Oh yeah.

Nightout-ing in Manila

If it gets too exciting, sit on the sidelines or find your corner.

Let’s face it --- the nightout scene is crucial in any city.  Locals, tourists, expats, visitors --- they are normally on the hunt for Things To Do When the Sun Sets.  They say that Manila has one of the most pulsing nightspots in Asia, mainly based on the fact that Filipinos love to “party”: eating, drinking, dancing, videoke-ing, you name it.  In a city that does not really sleep, thanks to 24-hour McDos and Starbucks-es, and of course the graveyard workforce, one can be assured that in any fraction of any day, there is something to do in the city.

The point is, are these options enough?

I remember the time when my friends and I started hitting the age bracket that would put an end to our 20s, we started complaining that our favorite clubs (including the now-defunct Embassy) were starting to get invaded by “young” people.  Picture that Sex and the City episode where Samantha does a PR job for this teenage socialite’s bar mitzvah and the (older) girls started making comments, “She’s too young to wear that dress!!”  Anyway, maybe that’s part of the wonderful woes of getting older --- but seriously, how come these teen-agers are wearing these really, really short dresses paired with sky-high Louboutin knock-offs?  What is with the thick rogue on their faces?  And why the hell do these girls in groups wear the same thing to these clubs?  (Though of course there was the time two decades ago when I started cutting off my jeans real short and then accessorizing them with safety pins --- seriously!)

Anyway, I do admit I go out at least once a week mostly to hang out with friends in bars and the occasional clubs.  Last Saturday we went to Opus Bar and my initial impression was the place looked... nice.  Until of course it started getting populated by its suki customers and somehow the bar just turned out to be a place to drink, hobnob, and yes, you better dress up otherwise the suspecting bouncers will not leave you alone.  Like, ya know?

For a time Bside was a favorite but it came to the point when the bar merely had about five tables filled.  My friends and I frequented Boozestop when we were broke (haha) and the New Penguin (now called Black Bird) is still probably trying to regain its former glory during its Malate days (although it had a few interesting gigs late last year and early this year).  M Café is a staple for us mainly because it has waaay better music than most clubs and the drinks are decent, and Martini’s at the Mandarin is quite posh and has one of the best ambience, cocktails and jazz acts around (Sino si Kat?).  If my friends and I just want to talk and drink an old favorite was Rue Bourbon at The Fort but we started staying away from it when it started getting too crowded by Distellery-type people (and I never really liked that place).  Lately we like to chow and drink at Barcino’s and we try our best to make it to Pub Quiz nights at Murphy's on Tuesdays. We haven’t gone out to dance in a long time but I have been to Republiq a couple of times.  I loved Jill’s at The Fort Strip for its Decadance Fridays, especially those days when you just want to dance like a dork to “Fill Me Up, Buttercup” and “My Sharona”.

I know. I am too stuck in Makati or The Fort.  Unfortunately, Malate is no longer what it used to be, Quezon City is a bit far (and assumingly occupied by the university crowd), and the Greenhills area has not excited me yet.  And I hate Ortigas (the same way some people hate Makati).

This is not to say I am such a party animal, but I like to get crazy once in a while (like five times a year, maybe).  Most of the time I like to watch people and figure out, "How come they all look the same?"  It's a great past time, believe me.

As another weekend awaits I have to admit I am still boggled where on earth to have a nice nightout in Manila.  The thing is, with age, a “nightout” gets redefined.  In this case, a nice nightout place needs to have the following points:

1. The crowd – Of course it is essential that we get to rub elbows with people within our age range, mostly professional, working people.  This may sound discriminating, but seriously, do youngsters want to hang out in a crowd about ten years older than them?  I don’t think so.  And I really hate to say this, but I’ve had a couple of experiences where, uh, “businesswomen” were flaunting their stuff on the dance floor.  It was quite awkward.

2. Good music --- I am going to eat my head if I hear another “R&B” dance remix.  I actually miss those rave and house days… how 90s, huh.

3. Decent drinks – we were once served a cocktail that tasted of something flammable (Gasoline?  Kerosene?) in one of Makati’s hotspots.  And when a friend asked for a White Russian, he was served a tall glass of watered down rhum with a separate shot glass of condensed milk (gulp).  I can only name a few places that serve really good cocktails, but normally it’s been a hit or a miss all over.  I wish bars here would get more creative with their drinks… we do have the talent and the yummy resources anyways.

4. Sustainability – what a big word, huh.  But seriously, it is all about finding your own Cheers… you know, that bar where everybody knows your name.  It is something I have always imagined: walking into a bar, post-work, and then the bartender knows what to concoct just by looking at that particular expression on my face.

Dirty martini, coming up.

Tired of Things That Break

I would like to share two of my favorite poems of late.

e.e. cummings

The first one is this work by Nick Laird which is part of Zadie Smith's (his wife) book On Beauty.  I adore this book and frankly I must say that this poem is an essential hook in this incredible novel.  Anyway, in the novel the poem was supposedly written by this teacher but in reality, of course, this is actually a piece by Nick Laird.

Here goes:

ON BEAUTY
by Nick Laird

No, we could not itemize the list
of sins they can't forgive us
The beautiful don't lack the wound
It is always beginning to snow.

Of sins they can't forgive us
speech is beautifully useless.
It is always beginning to snow.
The beautiful know this.

Speech is beautifully useless.
They are the damned.
The beautiful know this.
They stand around unnatural as a statuary.

They are the damned.
and so their sadness is perfect,
delicate as an egg placed in your palm.
Hard, it is decorated with their face.

and so their sadness is perfect.
The beautiful don't lack the wound.
Hard, it is decorated with their face.
No, we could not itemize the list.

I am not an expert on poetry and I don't think I am in any position to analyze it from an academic standpoint.  Anyhow, as you read the poem there is evidently a pattern of repetition which is actually called a pantoum (although this one is considered as a broken pantoum). 


After reading this poem a few years ago (I probably got the book sometime in 2008 or 2009) it felt like I was slapped in the face.  I am a sucker for patterns, you see, and at the back of my emotionally cerebral mind I managed to translate how these verses were in fact personally symbolic.  And what I love about this is that the repetition is broken which, in my personal opinion, the way certain patterns should be.

And speaking of patterns, this lovely ee cummings poem is a great answer from the Great Beyond.  I've always loved the work of this poet.

You are tired,
(I think)
Of the always puzzle of living and doing;
And so am I.

Come with me, then,
And we'll leave it far and far away—
(Only you and I, understand!)

You have played,
(I think)
And broke the toys you were fondest of,
And are a little tired now;
Tired of things that break, and—
Just tired.
So am I.

But I come with a dream in my eyes tonight,
And knock with a rose at the hopeless gate of your heart—
Open to me!
For I will show you the places Nobody knows,
And, if you like,
The perfect places of Sleep.

Ah, come with me!
I'll blow you that wonderful bubble, the moon,
That floats forever and a day;
I'll sing you the jacinth song
Of the probable stars;
I will attempt the unstartled steppes of dream,
Until I find the Only Flower,
Which shall keep (I think) your little heart
While the moon comes out of the sea.

- e.e. cummings

<3

Just Thinking: Then and Now, and Thirty Minutes in Tagaytay

This is how you do it: on top of a jeep, heading towards paradise

I was in Tagaytay in the past two days for work.  During the time we were finally given the pre-dinner break --- and people started drifting off to their rooms or to the smoking area --- I was suddenly itching to take a walk.  It was a moment you can actually define as tinopak.  So walk, I did.  On the dirt sidewalk along Calamba Road.

To be honest it was, in a way, an important highlight for me.  It was not because I "needed to get away".  It was just exhilarating to walk on this rugged path which can be quite dangerous: vehicles zipped past, and I was walking on the side of the road that was terribly lit.  But it was a cool evening, there was a hint of a chilly breeze, and it was --- occasionally --- quiet.  The sky was clear Thursday night, the stars were out, and a sliver of the moon was the lone hole in the sky.  It reminded me of the time I was traveling my kind of traveling, if you know what I mean.

I brought up these past travels with Liz who was with me in these many misadventures, one rainy Monday night over risotto and chicken.  I had to remind her of our Palawan trip, particularly this leg from El Nido to Sabang (where the Underground River is).  As we took the last trip from the junction and the jeep was already full, we had no choice but to ride on the roof... along with sacks of food, equipment, and other interesting stuff you don't normally share space with while on the road.  I was positioned right on the front end of the roof which means should the driver make a sudden stop I would definitely fly off the roof and crash, like those cartoon sketches that are (supposed to be) funny.  Liz, who was squealing sort of behind me, was sitting on a plastic bag filled with... fresh meat.  It was such a treat, believe me.

Anyways, as Liz has been held hostage in the hospital for, oh, years, we haven't done any Palawan Part Two or Phuket Part Two or even Batanes Part Two.  So on that particular rainy Monday night, as Liz was (as usual) complaining about her schedule (and asking herself why she's taking up surgery for the trillionth time), I told her I was looking forward to the day she could finally get away so we could do another set of misadventures along the same tune of riding on the roof of a jeepney or flying via an airplane taxi stocked with live chickens and --- believe it or not --- a small drum of fuel.

But Liz said something like, "Can't we stay in a decent hotel next time?"  Yes, as we are older and, yes, in our current state we can afford a decent hotel instead of some hut in some back alley miles away from the center of the action, maybe it's about time to hire a van and arrive at our intended destination in, say, second-class style.

Breakfast at the (Starbucks) Universal Sheraton, Los Angeles

In the past year my adventures have been along the lines of these "decent hotels".  I was truly disorientated when I had to travel with a suitcase and not with the usual backpack.  It has been about traveling for business and traveling for the purpose of representing something.  Believe me, I was disorientated but hey, I am not complaining!

I was reminded of these things during that brief walk in Tagaytay, which, if only I wasn't conscious of the time, I'd probably end up at the edge of Taal Lake.  It was just so nice to wander off, with your consciousness bare to the bones, unminding of the supposed consequences as your being is just about the moment: the road, the sky, the dirt, the smoke belched by belchers, the reality that I was doing this, alone, away, flawed and fated.