You Got Punk'd (In Your 20s)

The past few weeks, people that I know had to surf different waves of emotions. Some struggled on their feet, some put on a brave face, while other’s crashed. Could it be some giant earthquake triggered waves under the sea of our barely adult emotions? But then again, I realized, it simply just adulthood raping us in every way possible, not leaving a single hole in our hearts unmolested.

Drowned with beer and sorrow, when she cried her heart out over some bad breakup. Drenched were his feelings when he realized that those whatchamacallit he held on to for years weren’t strong as it were before.  Panic , when he started to think he is stuck in a rut called commonplace. Frustration is when she let society get into her head, leading her to question on whose happiness she should seek for.  And bleeding is when his heart is deeply wounded he plugged the drain with any numb-inducing high he could think of.

Dang what is up with my inner circle lately?

So over beers, or text or facebook messages, those emotions poured out endlessly. Not even one taking it lightly, with each having a different way of coping.

I remember reading an essay a decade ago about what’s it’s like to be having a quarterlife and thought it would be the coolest thing ever.  For a kid waiting to grow up and experience the thrill of adulthood, it definitely was a YES. But for a reluctant MTV generation grown up forced to face reality that life isn’t a music video, then awww HELL NO!

When things get rough, no one’s gonna say “that’s a wrap you guys” and automatically things are gonna be what it should be.  No, that’s not how it works. Shit won’t clean itself up. We attend to our own mess.

And no one’s getting Punk’d anymore.

I watch in pain seeing a friend die each time she spoke of her heart aches. I do not condone disrespect to self. And yet, I believe in following your heart.

Hay pag-ibig. Dying inside na, patay na patay pa. Walking Dead lang?

I have fully accepted the fact that some good things must come to an end. Death is a part of every life cycle. But rebirth is always around the corner.

I do not believe in facebook anymore. As the name suggests, it’s all about the face value. I am judged for having one too many times having fun on pictures – which is the whole point in living.

So do not impose your miserable life on me.

Happiness will always correlate to contentment. I tell my friend that. Reiterate if I must because despite what he has and what he is experiencing right now, it ain’t just enough for Instagram or his newsfeed.

Seriously, It’s either you weed out some friends or that newsfeed has to go.

And we should not let society dictate us. At the end of the day, this is our life and not theirs. So what if they're pregnant at 25? Partying at 25 sounds pretty good to me.

Staying afloat and surviving is a tricky business. A million waves are gonna come crashing in testing our core. Bills, responsibilities, expectations, and unrequited love while struggling each day to survive is no easy feat. But while we’re at it, try to live life and have fun, it’s not like you’re the only one experiencing it. Trust me, you are not alone.

So take the plunge, enjoy the bumpy ride. It’s the perk of being in your 20s.

The Politics in Dating a Hipon

So it was one of those Thursday, almost Friday stress-beer night and all my friends had other ‘priorities ‘ and the only one who promised to swing by by the bar actually stood me up that I ended up drinking alone. A few gulps down and almost immediately I got hit on by a prostitute trying to earn a buck.

You know the prototype, bangable bod and butterface. Meaning everything's good but her face.

Or so I thought she was.

Turned out she wasn’t a hoe but just a normal bar patron that comes off a little kaladkarin.

Interestingly, after a few exchanges of terrible dirty pick up lines, we kinda hit it off. It wasn’t cerebral intercourse per se, but there were moments that she could actually keep up with certain topics and be a little cultured every minute or two but that’s before she injects it with some street crass green jokes. So if people assume she’s a hooker and I believe that happens a lot, it was all her doing.

If she were pretty, I’d feel really bad because there’s nothing sadder than a beautiful girl that registers pokpokin unintentionally.  But then again, she weren’t, so just as what every shrimp does, they rely on attitude or if not overcompensate on personality. And boy does she have personality.

The next morning, I consulted the ‘experts’ which basically are random people on my phonebook.

 ‘Would you do a shrimp?’

Most, if not everyone said NO. Let’s face it, who would ever readily admit of doing one? And if it ever got so complicated that feelings got involved, It is a known and acceptable fact that all lovestruck couples have beer goggles on during the entire duration of the relationship.

One of the first people who replied to my query adamantly said he’ll never do one. Basing on his track record though speaks otherwise. He was always the one with the questionable choices.

But there’s one who said she wouldn’t mind just as long that on that interfacial relationship, she gets the upper hand. She must be the pretty one because, according to her, she’d rather have people baffled and asking why she’s dating an ugly guy and not the other way around. Makes sense considering she’s doing quite good herself professionally. She doesn’t want to be labelled as *coughs sugarmommy.

I remember going to this event one time and accidentally bumping into someone I know. We did a little chit chat and just as I was about to go my way and end the convo, the words, ‘Uy baka may makakita sa atin, baka anong isipin’ came out from her mouth.

Oh no she didn’t.

Kung makapagsalita naman to, akala mo kung sinong maganda.

Because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings and state the blinding flash of the obvious, I just said ‘Paki natin sa mga tao.’  I was shocked to know that all this time, she still hasn’t realized she’s a shrimp.

Made me want to grab a mirror and shove it on her face.

So I just smiled. Nothing feels more great that knowing something others don’t.

According to some drunken wise words, It is said that, If the sex was great then it cannot be denied. Pero pag hipon, deny to death.

Besides, no one is perfect and there’s always a room for mistakes.  And if you’re asking, NO, I had to run for my life.

The World Loves A Beefcake

I shudder at the sight of a very pretty girl going out with a douchebag. No, that cannot be happening at this day and age. Whatever happened to substance, to Shia LeBeouf getting paired with Megan Fox, to life being ultimately the revenge of the nerds?

When you think the mating landscape has become progressive, that pretty mestiza girl from college is now dating a guy whose primary goal in life is to increase the girth of his biceps.

Seeing them HHWW at the mall struck a chord in me so hard that I did what I swore myself not to do ever in my entire dorky existence.

I signed up for a gym.

Now I know what I did what such a sellout, but after watching Captain America recently, I realized that nobody cares who the director was or who wrote the script, and if it were to be based on the shrieks alone, muscles make girls go into a wild frenzy.

In what world does muscle trumps over brains?  Wait, earth calling Jaime.

All this time, I thought brain was the biggest the sex organ and intelligence is the best aphrodisiac.

Hoping to learn more about this anomaly, I text blasted girls on my phonebook, ‘Quick, bright o gwapo? #yungtotoo #walangplastikan’.

Honestly, I thought it was a shocker that everyone replied with looks as their top priority. But there’s one though that replied, ‘what quick’?

*Faceplam

When Survivor did the Brains vs Beauty vs Brawns this season, I thought I was gonna be rooting for the brains. But since they proved to be imbeciles, I leaned more towards the beauties, specifically hot girl Morgan. I dunno everybody needs a bosom for a  pillow I guess.

Now I know I’m contradicting myself, but then again, I was thinking with my other head.

We all have beer goggles on when it comes to cerebral matters. Dafuq if she’s dumb.

In the end, I take that we can’t choose who we love. For all we know, that asswipe that’s the mestiza girl’s current squeeze is smart (which I highly doubt).

I told my friend quick meant ‘premature ejaculator’ and she just took it just like that. No brain process whatsoever. But I digress.  I didn’t have the patience because I just felt the urgency of this subject.

And if you’re asking, It’s been a week now, but I still haven’t showed up at the gym. I still haven't lost hope for humanity.

Boodmo

At thirteen I thought paradise would be lounging at the beach with a beer on my hand watching the most perfect 4D experience; the waves crashing, the sun setting, and reality shut and kept somewhere else. I didn’t even like beer then. And my biggest woe was not being able to watch my favourite show on a Friday night.  

Back then, the coolest thing ever would be doing what my childhood hero was documenting week after week on a national daily. It wasn’t  Kurt’s artistry and eventual demise, not Gael’s cinematic triumphs, and not even Che’s aventuras de motocicleta, but what this little gringa wanderer did on the face of the earth; she lived life. And lived to tell the tale.

I won’t give out her name. Let’s just keep it that way.

So a decade later, on my birthday weekend, at 4 pm, on a happy hour, I drank beer on the beach, watched the waves and the sun set. Looking back, I must say things have been working out the way I envisioned it to be. At times, it did feel a little bit of a slow burn, but not getting what I want on a specific time has only taught me patience.  And for that, i think I can sit still now, a few minutes more than someone with attention deficit.

At 6 pm, I was guzzling down cocktails with a friend and a Scandinavian divorcee. In some drink whose name I couldn't even remember, I realized that it wouldn't hurt to try out new things once in a while. Out of your comfort zone, is where the magic happens. Like some fancy tequila-based whatnot, would it kill me if I drink out of a martini glass instead of a shot glass? Nope. But it did make me appreciate what i have with rum. And what I have in life.

In Scandinavia, she ranted out the sad fact that they didn’t have mangoes. And that her marriage was ending. I told her to go to Italy and India and Bali, and maybe write a book, and think of herself like she’s some kind of a paler Julia Roberts. And if all else fails, happiness could come in a form of a peach mango pie or a Mango Mania Krusher or just plain mangoes.

I would have suggested her to do a female version of Around The World in 80 Girls but I don’t think she’s up for that.Wherever she is now, prolly in Boracay, I wish her the best lays days of her life.

At 8 pm, I was pleasantly surprised to find out that there’s another set of happy hours. Like, being on an island doesn’t give out that much happiness already.  

Talking about random things over aged rum with old friends and new ones and getting surprised at the wisdom we never knew we have is just priceless. Appreciating your differences and being grateful for friendships that withstood time and geographical boundaries made every shot sweeter. Seeing Spanish volunteers put their life on hold on the other side of the world to help out the typhoon victims has restored my faith in humanity.  Witnessing people with so little and yet so happy only affirmed my disdain towards material culture.

Every time i’m in a new island, at a beach somewhere on this archipelago, getting lost, I know I have made her proud. For it is when you’re lost that you find yourself. 

Paradiso doesn’t have to be synonymous to white sand beaches and turquoise seas. In my case, I live near it – Paradise, the village. My crib may not be the fanciest, but it has enough character for every bonito struggling artist waiting for a muse to get inspiration from. I know I've made this choice. I may not be happy at times, but who is?

At the end of the day, when the hangover is gone and reality draws you back in, you realize, happiness is a choice. And paradise is a state of mind. So let’s drink to that. Boodmo.