My Blog

sometime in the ’90s, i had a crazy, intimate affair with a girl named ally.  we met once a week, and nothing mattered to me more than listening and learning more about her life.  i was a student then, and like any immature, inexperieced lover, i was too eager to sacrifice everything.  i missed group meetings, rehearsals, even meals just so i wouldn’t miss getting to know her better. she was my life, and i was hers.  knowing her was the best thing that ever happened to my life.

okay, okay so i exaggerated a bit!  i can’t help romaticising my experience with ally mcbeal whose eponymous show gave me all i needed to know to better understand myself.  at some point in my life, i was convinced that ally was my soulmate.  her dilemmas and concerns in life parallel mine.  just imagine my sorrow when i viewed the last episode of the show.  i was depressed for a while, and like all jilted lovers who don’t consider suicide an option, i moved on.  and to loosely paraphrase regine’s song, my experience with her made me stronger.  the lessons i got from the show will never be forgotten, for how could i?  my life experiences seem to fit in all the molds left by the show.

what makes your problem bigger than everybody else?

like ally, i am self-obsessed and a bit neurotic.  i seem not to have gotten over that phase of childhood when one thinks that the world revolves around him/her.  i whine just about everything and i enjoy doing it every chance i get. i complain that people take life so seriously, yet i also get uneasy when people are excessively happy. most of the time, i complain about my personal inconveniences: the lack of food choices in restaurants, the lack of plus-size boutiques in town, the non-existence of my social life, etc.  at one point, perhaps irritated by my constant whining, a good friend commented that my worries in life are pea-sized compared to the problems of other people.  so if someone asks me what makes my problems bigger than everybody else, i would probably give the same answer ally gave billy, "They’re mine."

sometimes the things that you regret the most are the things that you don’t do.

nothing can be truer than this.  there had been nights when i wondered how my life would have turned out if i had made different choices.  the what ifs in life are more tormenting because you know that you just can’t turn back time.

if you think back and replay your year and if it doesn’t bring you tears, either joy or sadness, consider your year wasted.

ever since high school, i’ve somehow maintained a journal.  re-reading my entries has been my year ender and i am happy to note that my entries never fail to give my tear ducts a good tuning every now and then. 

loving means learning how to compromise.

i have learned that if one needs to be self-less, one has to be truly in love.  sadly, i have not met that person whose demands, needs, and wants i am willing to take.  but i am hopeful that one day, i will.

we all want love to come along yet we apply all restrictions as to how it should come along.

this is classic ME. i never grow tired going to all novena masses asking for a little excitement in my life, but when a potential candidate comes along, i never run out reasons not to date the person. could it be that like ally, i too am incapable of being happy?  that i am addicted to drama?

i need to know that love still works.  even if i am alone, i need to know that when i go to bed at night.

despite the drought in my love life, i still continue to be hopeful.  no matter how i promise myself not to attend another wedding of a friend, of a relative, or a friend’s friend, i continually do so.  it’s not that i am masochistic, but no matter how excruciating it is, i need to believe that its magic still works; after all, hope is what gets me (and most people) going.