My Friend's Friend's Boyfriend's Bestfriend

My friend was telling me a story the other day. It was about her friend's boyfriend and the guy's bestfriend who called one day and asked for financial help saying it was for the girlfriend's tuition fee.

My friend's friend didn't mind because it was the boyfriend's money and she couldn't care less what he does with it. I mean, it's the fruit of his labor so he can do whatever he wants. Just don't squander it all in a silly lap dance in a strip club, right? So, there. They made plans to wire the money as soon as the next pay cheque comes.

The boyfriend's bestfriend called the other day and came clean. The money was for abortion. My friend's friend was appalled, because:

1. It's killing - what does it matter that the entity is only a few days or weeks old? It's so much worse than ending a life - it's not even giving it a chance to begin. That child, if given the chance to see the world, might end up doing great things. My friend's friend can't do anyting but just shake her head. It's stupendous how society associates bestiality with animals, like when a person does something degrading, they say that that person is acting like a complete animal. Sure there are animals that eat their offspring, but they generally don't. Human beings are the ones that off their offspring before they see the time of day.

2. My friend's friend's boyfriend didn't even blink. He just said, okay. To hold on to their seats until the end of the week and not to worry because the fetus wouldn't grow to be "unabortable" in that short period of time and that the money would come. He didn't even try to offer advice or say words like, "are you sure this is what you want to do? ", "It's a life we're talking about here...", or "are there no other options?" He didn't even ask why.

My friend's friend confronted her boyfriend on that and he just shrugged and said it's their life and they're mature enough to make their own decisions. "F*ck their decision-making method," my friend's friend said. "They are way beyond selfish the term for it hasn't even been invented yet."

And the boyfriend said, "who are you to judge?" As if my friend's friend's (frequent) bitchiness renders her unqualified and unfit to offer her outlook on a matter as serious as this.

Just because my friend's friend can be such an arrogant bitch to the boyfriend sometimes and her irrational tantrums are not funny anymore, that doesn't mean she's not entitled to an opinion.

Abortion - it's not just a term paper or a topic in class debate. It's putting a life in your hands and deciding whether to give it a chance to live...and it's not even our decision to make. God chose to bless them with the gift of life. God presented that girl with the chance to be a mother.

How dare she pass that up, whatever the heck her reason is. It's like slapping God in the face and saying, "Up yours. I don't want your gift of the opportunity to experience the joys of motherhood."

But that's none of my friend's friend's business anymore. I...errr....she just hopes their guilts attack them relentlessly if they decide to push through with it.

Pendulum

I feel like one all the time. It makes me feel as if i'm bipolar or something...like i'm one symptom away from schizophrenia. As sweet, kind and as gentle as an angel one minute and then an evil b**tch suffering from Tourette's syndrome the next. I realize that i am straddling the thin line that separates a healthy, normal relationship and an abusive one. My dear boyfriend is patience and kindness and unselfishness (and all the other great things i'm not) personified.

You gotta give the boyfriend a gazillion props and standing ovations for holding on to our relationship...God failed to bless me with the ability to understand why a great guy like my boyfriend would still want to be with me when he can have any girl he wants - minus the multiple personality disorder at that...could be the L word...L-O-V-E.

I'm not one to swoon over the antics of the heart. I adore love stories and romantic movies, and i sigh occasionally when it comes to that part in the movie where the average girl gets the quarterback...or when the nerd gets the headcheerleader...when Richard Gere conquered his fear of heights to get to Julia Roberts or when Janeane Garofalo gets the guy instead of Uma Thurman. sweet. But then again, i get the same feeling watching Beatrix Kiddo maim and slaughter those who got in her way in that blood-canopied movie, Kill Bill.

I don't really have the flair for the dramatic so it's totally beyond my comprehension why and how my boyfriend would and could stay with me for 2 years and 7 months despite my thrice-in-a-blue-moon apalling tantrums. With this in mind, i don't need help from my other personalities. The cynical me, sarcastic me, doubtful me, self-pitying me and the suspicious me --- they all make me think as if there's something other than LOVE that would make a person stay in a relationship like this with an other half who makes Sally Field's character in ER somewhat normal.

What other reasons could there be? What are these nagging personalities telling me? I'll get into that later. I have a splitting headache...it's probably the lazy bum in me trying to beat up my personality that understands the need to earn money. if the lazy bum wins, i'm not going to my part-time job. i'll just type away and fill this page with ridiculous musings.

Y, Tu and Toi

It somewhat scares me that I have an aptitude for writing something that's made solely to hurt other people when I feel that i've been stepped on. I've always said that my pride has superpowers of its own and this is one of its products.

I warned you. I have a sharp tongue, a sharper mind and an even sharper pen. Don't hate me because of my incisive wit. Gratitude to you who has read what i have written but don't look at me like i'm an arrogant bitch just because i write what's on my mind. It's a therapeutical release of emotions for me (elation, dismay, frustration, contentment, happiness, sadness...) that speaking cannot give.

When it comes to verbal communication, I am the reincarnation of Emily Post (unless you catch me in a bad time then you're gonna have to endure a sarcasm and cyncism-stimulated conversation, half of which are cuss-words, where you wouldn't be able to get a word in edgewise). I am the mother, er...sister of diplomacy and tact is one of my strongest points, even if your outfit doesn't match, you've put on too much eye make-up and your barber/haircutter deserves to be guillotined.

I am patience personified.

The quintessential friendly girl.

The embodiment of cheerfulness.

The epitome of niceness.

But a person can only take too much.

1. You whose colossal ego's size is inversely proportional to your manliness: i understand that you're lacking in the phallic department (no, i haven't seen it but from what i know of him so far, that's the conclusion even the dumbest person would draw) If you have the balls to claim that you're a gosh-darn ladies man (urk) be man enough to tell me what you want to say and quit hiding under your other half's skirt. How i knew what you have to say? Words get around, you know. Be careful next time...if you're going to say something to her about me, make sure she doesn't blab about it to an equally dense peson who's running around trying ardently to get the last laugh.

2. You who's still stuck to that abnormal state of being left by the love of your life: it's amazing how you can still find the time (and energy) to talk about me...hmm...maybe i shouldn't even be astonished in the first place. it's either your life sucks or you don't have one at all. i don't possess the world's greatest deductive skills but i'm guessing it's the latter. If the number of times i go to the bathroom is what fuels your (metaphorical) life support system...you're in big trouble, sister...err, loser. Shoot yourself before you realize that...(i should probably say that i'm speaking figuratively in case her tiny brain takes this literally...i don't want to be responsible for somebody's demise...)

3. You: (i don't know this person that much so there's nothing to add here...) Better stick to Friendster or any other online community and cancel your myspace account if you don't know how to edit it. I don't mind helping people out and answering questions but you did something to me that isn't so nice and it's just too bad that i learned about it 'cause i genuinely liked you. i even thought we could be good friends. Good luck with your life and your future endeavors (and i mean it, really...) but don't talk to me like we're friends. I'm not stupid. I might be slow on the uptake when it comes to green jokes...but I can see right through you

Violent reactions from certain people are anticipated...and those would only be testaments of how guilty they are.

The issue has been resolved. I have been politely asked to take it away from my blog but if i'm to embark on a journey to learn to love all of me, then i'm going to have to embrace this "unpretty" side that comes out once in a blue moon...

Personality Overhaul

I’ve never really been forced to assess myself before…never really gotten even remotely close to the point where I’ve had to rummage through my entire being and rethink of what I have to keep and throw out. Now that I’m on the brink of doing that, chances that I’d have more garbage to chuck than treasures to keep are highly probable.

I need not ask myself why I’m suddenly wedged in this situation. I’ve seen it coming long before I felt the need to. Why? I am with a man, who, (as good as it gets and) as cliché as it sounds, makes me want to be a better person. One would conclude that actions would easily follow upon such realization and that might be true – if the person who needs to make an image overhaul is a normal person with a healthy dose of pride or none at all. But I’m an extraordinary person whose pride has superpowers of its own. The idea of changing to please a man is right up there with trying to be somebody you’re not just to fit in. But I do understand that it’s for my own good anyway. I might not agree with that a hundred percent now, but I know that in the long run, I’ll give myself a pat on the back if I try to be a better person ASAP.

It’s not that I’m totally changing myself…it’s just a matter of trying to bring out the goodness within me – if I have that – (ask Charles, he’d most likely just stare at you in bewilderment). If I do have an iota of kindness (unselfishness) in me, it would perhaps not be enough for him to stop looking at me like I’m some kind of a whack job out to put a leash around his neck.

Just for the record, I don’t believe he looks at me like that…in fact, I KNOW and I’m certain he doesn’t. And that’s what totally gets me. His unconditional love and being totally selfless makes me want to kick myself for all the times I’ve been the exact opposite of what’s he’s been to me since day one.

Through all this, I’ve learned that to become conscious about something is one thing…to actually do something about it is another, which is much more difficult. It sure is easier said than done…It’s not against my principles to try to be better for the man that I love so much…it’s just that pride makes you do things that people without pride consider lunacy…in this case, I haven’t changed…it’s at the back of my mind. It lurks there continuously, gnawing at me like tiny microbes out to get my immune system.

Before you look at me like I’m some kind of a monster, know that I’m trying – but I’m not going to change overnight. It’s going to be a gradual process because I don’t think my pride can take that kind of drastic personality modification. Pride only hurts. Love is never proud. Yaddi-yadda-yadda. I know, I know…and someday I’ll be able to say that without a tinge of hypocrisy.

Where am I? What time is it?

• Wake up at 5:30 am

• That doesn't even give me enough time to actually eat properly because i have to be out the door before 6:30

• Work from 6:45-2:45

• Home at 3:00 ... get online for a few minutes to see if i have messages from anyone important

• The only thing that's constant in my life at the moment: 200 crunches

• Leave house at 4:40 to go to the next job

• I'm not killing myself. I've finally realized the value of holding down a job, earning money and then saving some - which, if i really, really think about it, i'm not doing a very good job of.

• Home at 9:30

• Take a bath - a very quick one at that

• Pick the boyfriend and brother up at 10:30

• Be in bed before 12:00 am and try fervently to catch some sleep so as not to die the next day while working

• And the cycle continues

i need time. for me. to write. to read. to bask in the luxury of doing absolutely nothing.

questions i ask myself:

• remember when you were lazy and is thick-skinned enough to endure people's look of incredulousness over the fact that you're unemployed?

• remember the time when you were free of the economical shackles that bind people and force people to subject themselves to ruthless interviewers for a job that entails too much and a salary that won't even cover the crazy insurance rates that your credit card company gives?

• remember the time when you go through 1-3 books a day?

• remember when your diary actually had entries?

Life, such a bitch.