The internet thinks I'm a beautiful gay??

When you find yourself in the midst of an existential crisis, it is often helpful to consult the internet. The internet is just full of useful ways to find out who you are.

For example, I can go to Urban Dictionary and type in "Mimi" and it will tell me all about myself and what exactly I mean to the world:

Yes. True? Probably. But maybe I'll look a little further for clarification...



Nope.
Maybe if I try my dad's last name...

 

That is informative but completely unhelpful. I shall keep looking. How about my husband's last name..
 

 Really, internet? Really?
There has got to be a better definition...

I Googled "Mimi looks like" and this is a sampling of what came up:

Fuck you, Internet.  What does "Mimi looks better than Tranny Gaga" even mean? 

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Who knows, maybe they can just make your dreams come true. :)

one goodness at a time

As I was having my after lunch rituals, with smiles all over my face, I was hit..

This boastful smuck talked to me like he knew it all. "It doesnt work that way now mimi" imposing a "Hail me!" tone (though I was just reading it on facebook but I'm just that great so I'm certain about it). It almost ruined my day. But then again, after reading it again, it didn't. :)

I saw one of my facebook friend post a status asking for help on how to get a passport in a flash, aparently this guy doesn't want to do it normally like getting an appointment on-line. So as an act of random kindness I gave him the best advise I know (that happened to be effective to people I know). I told him "process it with a travel agency _ _ _ _. " We were in the same industry so I was quite confident that, well yea, he might agree. But instead I got boasted on, and it looked like I don't have an idea of what I am blabbering about.

A normal human reaction, I was like "ang yabang nitong gagong to ah."  But thank God my good 'ol friend conscience was there to remind me, that I was the one who offered help, and he doesn't owe me anything, so I better suck it up, and move on.

There are times that these simple things like this can hurt us. Maybe not the type that we will be moping on for the next 24 hours, but reached the point to make us feel bad. Simple example for a bigger scenario, that when you showed someone you cared and was dismissed you feel bad about it, because the caring you gave is not acceptable to them. 

My dad always told me when I was still a kid, "ang importante, nakatulong ka.." and I used to always advise it to people as well. That when we give something away, give it with heart and never complain. Take the risk and accept.

One goodness at a time, things we can do to make a better world to live in. :)

where do broken heart go? (for candice)

August 19th, 2009 …
 I called it like I saw it, and yet, you called me “crazy”... looks like I wasn’t so crazy after all.

“Randy” and “Rona.” one year ago, Randy told me that he and Rona were “just friends” and that I was being “crazy.” 
Randy and I were having a rocky relationship and began spending time with different groups of friends. I knew Randy and Rona had recently become friends at that time and shared several mutual friends, therefore hung out often. I didn’t think anything of it at the time, mainly because I was trying not to think about Randy at all. But in the beginning of August, Randy and I decided to try and patch up our very confusing relationship.

This was when my intuition about Randy and Rona emerged. I only saw Randy and Rona together once, watching the two of them interact that one time was all it took. I had a strong feeling that there was something more than friendship surfacing. I knew they had feelings for each other, even if he was not willing to admit it ... yet. 

So now here we are... Randy and Rona have been together for i don't know how long. Sometimes it sucks to be right. 

I’m constantly wondering ... will it last? Is she really the “one” for him? If so, there’s no hope for my friendship with Randy to be restored in the future. On the other hand, I remind myself ...

He is happy now, and I won’t ruin/interfere with that. It took him twenty-three years to meet someone that he’d want to call his girlfriend; and now that he’s found her, I won’t allow myself to be selfish and make things difficult for him. I won’t resent him for finding love just because it’s not with me. It’s best for our paths to split. As I walk away, I will do so quietly. I do have to admit, I glance back every now and then on that ten-mile road that we once traveled on together. I can’t help but notice the scattered memories of our years happily, unhappy, unique, once in a lifetime, friendship.

Yet when I catch myself sneaking that peek back to our past, I do not experience feelings of sadness or anger. I always find myself turning back around, towards my new single path, with a smile.
“You can’t erase who we were or what we had. No one can. We burned so bright together. You won’t lose that.”
 I have always believed that everything happens for a reason, and I still hold true to that. That belief is what gives me hope. I’m confident that every moment that we’ve shared together in the past, and every moment that we are apart in the future, has a purpose in our lives. 
I’ll forever cherish every memory of Randy; and I’ll always be grateful for the friendship we held onto for long, complicated, unforgettable years.

Randy is a significant piece of my past … and nothing that happens will ever change that. I know our connection was real, and packed with deep unconditional emotions, and yet, that made it all the more challenging. A feeling that I’ve never experienced with another before. I know I may never encounter a bond like that again, and the thought renders a world-wind of emotions. I feel scared, apprehensive, and even a bit cynical, then again, I feel content. I value the friendship Randy and I endured over the years and I’m lucky to have stumbled upon his path in 2005.

I know the value in our meeting, and even in the struggles, detours, and crashes that emerged along the way—and I wouldn’t change any of it; for it inadvertently guided me safely through many hardships in the past. I know that I now must continue on my own journey, and leave who we use to be behind me. I must move forward on my newly made, unclearly marked path. Nevertheless, I still hope that someday Randy finds his way back to me; and that his path once again intertwines with mine.

 “I’m not quitting. I’m walking away from something that’s broken. But that doesn’t mean I’m not scared.

**Candice2010**

when tears run dry..

The first night was the hardest. There were bits of dirt on the cold sheets and the pillowcase was still damp with my tears. I hadn’t really stopped crying in the last eighteen hours, even though those hours felt like years. Every time I closed my eyes even for a moment, I saw him laughing, crying, yelling....

I knew the nights would be the most difficult. I knew that in the devastating quiet of those wee hours my heart was going to implode over and over again.

We had known each other for quite sometime, sharing many, many firsts. He was my best friend, the love of my life, my confidant, my dreamer. He was mine... and I was his. For years we had loved each other until it hurt, and in just a few moments it was as if none of it had ever even existed. Just a few moments. That was all it took to tear us apart.

I wish there were another word for “heartache,” because when the person you thought was the love of your life hurts you and then leaves, your heart does not ache, it doesn’t even break; it lives on beating and throbbing, but the pain is so much more than any ache. No, the pain is ... a living death. You long for another type of pain, any type except for the one slowly destroying you from the inside out; eating away at your body, mind, and soul.

You cry until you are too exhausted to even speak, and if you see even a scrap of something that once belonged to them, you die. A. Little. Bit. More. Suddenly, you are a caged lion pacing a very small, confined space and all you want to do is strike out at anyone that dares cross your path.

Will you ever be happy again? You wonder. That becomes the first question of many, many more that are guaranteed to follow.

No, “ache” is not the right word. Suddenly “ache” seems miniscule, comical.

But there is life after death, and as the minutes become hours, the hours become days, you begin to realize that you can feel again; other emotions than just sadness and anger. You learn to breathe without feeling as if your lungs are going to burst. That first, long breath you take from nearly drowning will always be the sweetest. Slowly, very slowly, you feel the living death begin to metamorphis into peace, laughter and yes ... even ache. And you are so very grateful for it.

A Sad Love Story

They were friends, sharing a few meals along with laughs in the park at lunchtime. A couple dinners together with nothing much more than kisses. He needed to know it meant something, and it did. It did to her, it meant everything, but she lacked the confidence needed to tell him. She was very rough around the edges and used humor to protect what she truly was. He took the safe route and moved on, leaving her to know, she wasn’t enough. He moved on with a girl to another almost immediately and she couldn’t face that fact daily. She needed to leave that environment and did. It didn’t matter; she could never really leave him behind. He was in her heart and he would remain there always.

They managed to connect a few times over the years, updating each other on the growth of their families and careers. When they would meet, their eyes would lock. She would spend days wondering if he could see right through to her heart pounding. Did he know how much she loved him? He always looked so sad and worn out. She could heal him, protect him, and love him. She knew it. She wanted him to know, but again, she could never find the words to tell him.

Then it happened. The timing seemed as if it could be right. They had what seemed to be a sanctuary for a brief time. Finally, she had found the words and the courage. She told him. She prayed for the happiness to last, learning quickly that fairy tales don’t come true and it’s better sometimes not to live a dream. When the dream is gone, you’re left with nothing. Hollow, her heart empty and sad, she was told once again that she wasn’t enough. Never enough.