Happy New Year!

Then sing, young hearts that are full of cheer,
With never a thought of sorrow;
The old goes out, but the glad young year
Comes merrily in tomorrow.

Time flies, doesn’t it? It seems like it was just yesterday that we greeted a new millennium.

I hope you had a great Christmas and are ready and raring for battle in 2009.

I say battle because we all know it is going to be another tough year, in some instances, we may need to battle to survive.

However, let us always be filled wih hope. So raise your glass and lets toast the New Year.

May all of us experience the kindness in life, while being surprise with many moments of great joy through 2009!

Cheers!

It all start with laughter.

Still on the topic about my boys – they aren’t good looking. They don’t have the penetrating eyes, porcelain white teeth, and sun-kissed skin. They don’t even have the expertise to color coordinate their belts with their shoes, and they don’t have rock-hard abs that could crush chestnuts. But, they got sense of humor!

No wonder they bag girls who aren’t just beautiful and smart, but their girlfriends also come from good families.

I have read somewhere that single girls believe that they are most likely to fall in love with someone who makes them laugh. In fact, it is sense of humor that women cited as the No. 1 romantically attractive trait.

Now I know that God is just.

Of course I am happy that they get the girls they want, and maybe the answer to this groin-kicking phenomenon lies in the knowledge that my kids learned to activate or trigger the increase of their gilrfriend’s serotonin levels, serotonin being the brain chemical that put women in a light mood.

But the challenge then for my kids after breaking in the initial bouts of laughter, is to sustain the comedy.

As I said previously, times have changed. The girls of today desire to find boys who could increase her lineage intelligence level instead of having kids who will spend his days running into walls while picking his nose. And one indication that a man was moving up in the evolutionary ladder was his sense of humor as this indicates creative ability, which is also perceived as a sign of intelligence. For example: Boys who would scratch their butts then eat with their hands were not humorous. But boys who made fun of boys who scratched their butts then ate with their hands were humorous.

If some moron had resorted to a trite pick up line like “ Nice shoes, wanna have sex?”, then my son would probably showcase his creativity with line like “ Nice shoes. Do you want to have smart kids?”

Oh damn, I don’t want to be a grandmother yet. Maybe I should lock them up till the vacation is over.

A boy's fear, no more?

I am still on vacation, but I was never been out of the house since the holiday started. Ok, I did go out once, but only to go to the office because a client was so insistent that she couldn’t wait till Monday to pick-up her product.

My sons though were having a blast going out with their girlfriends’ families. Oh yes, they are cozy with their girlfriends parent! My eldest son even had to sleep over at the girl’s house because her dad insist he stay for the night since it’s already late and he is concern that he may have difficulty finding a ride home.

Indeed, times have changed. Gone are the days when boys used to fear meeting their girlfriend’s parent or maybe my son just passed the dad’s scrutinizing eyes. Yaay!

Wait, did she show my son’s Friendster account to them which boast of glowing testimonials that my son painstakingly paid his friends for? Did my son also bribe her best friend to tell her parents what a decent guy he is?

Why do men fear meeting their girlfriend’s parent for the first time? Is this fear merely irrational? I have heard of some men whose testicle retracted to the pit of their stomach when they first meet their girlfriend’s parents.

You know, similar to circumcision, a requirement to Filipino courtship is the man’s responsibility to win not only the affection of his girlfriend, but also the affection of her parents, her brother who is twice his size and would like to eat him for protein, his other brother who had given him disturbing looks whenever he comes visiting, her sister and in-laws who are living in the States and will come home for Christmas, her grandma and grandpa, her surviving great grandfather on her mother side, her uncles and aunties, her 4th degree cousins, her mischievous god children who always ask him present, her 2nd cousin’s stepmom, her mom’s best friend who had been like a mother to her, her 5th cousin’s stepsister’s estranged and twice removed half brother, and, of course her dog.

Well the reason behind all this is that Filipina women value the relationship they have with their families and respect the opinions of their family members, their extended family and their domesticated animals regarding their boyfriends.

Me? Oh I am easy to win over. I won’t give any girl a hard time especially after she passed the first set of the lie-detector test.

Temperature check…yes, I still have the flu. Sorry!

So here's the deal...

Christmas is over.

The frenzy had finally died down. No more horrendous traffic and most of all, no kids coming to my door singing “Ang Pasko ay Sumapit” every 3-minute intervals.

Those goody bags I have prepared to last till the 25th was two days short because I was not clever enough to put indelible marks to the fingers of those kids who had come to my door caroling. I am pretty certain some of them had gotten more than three goody bags a night.

So what gifts had I given to my loved ones? None. Well, circumstances did not allow me to spend for gifts. My kids just asked me for shopping money so they can buy presents for their friends. But did they even think of buying one for their mom? NO! Don’t get me wrong, I like giving gifts. And if money was not an issue, I would spend a fortune giving gifts to people I love.

Its amazing how being sick on Christmas day has its benefit especially if you have nothing to give to friends who calls asking you to come to their house or those who want to know if they can come to yours. My incessant coughing over the phone must have convinced them not to see me or they won’t be able to make their usual boundary of at least five houses on Christmas day.

What do I want for Christmas? Why does Mariah Carey’s “All I want for Christmas is You” kept humming in my mind? Do I feel sentimental over something or someone? Your guess is as good as mine. (blushes)

If I wanted something material, I would probably wish for a new laptop to replace this very slow one, and maybe a nice ear ring to add to my humble fake jewelry collection.

If I wanted something short of a miracle, I would wish for a smaller belly, rounder buttocks and great skin. But since they are close to being miracles, I will leave them to God. Maybe in His divine grace, He will grant my wish someday—or in my next life?

What do I really want for Christmas?

Ok, since I did not get any of those I wished for, I’ll just instead settle for the third one – that people will understand me. That when I am quite, it doesn’t mean I am cranky, it means I am ok. When I blow my top, it means I am having my PMS and is fed up with the pain. When I complain that it hurts, please don’t misinterpret it as whining, I am just letting you know.

I want my last wish to come true. And I hope it’s not too much to ask.

Just bad timing.

I have not been feeling well.

Why in God’s name do I have to be sick when Christmas Eve is just a day away?
I don’t know how I get the flu, but damn my whole body aches, my throat is sore, my eyes seem to want to jump from its socket, my nose already bleeds from too much blowing, and my voice croaks like a frog because of the cough.

Of course, I look like a mess as my hair had not been washed for three days, and my room is in disarray.

I don’t even know if I can muster the strength to cook my usual noche buena fare. If I cannot, then the boys had to do with ready-to-eat food from the restaurant.

Or maybe I will just ask them to cook the dish themselves! But that wouldn’t be fun as I may end up convalescing from too much anxiety.

Ok, I need to rest now and let the virus be done with its normal cycle. I hope I will be better tomorrow, or I will have to spend Christmas in bed.

Anyway I just want to wish you all a very merry Christmas and may we all look forward to the New Year with renewed hope.

Ciao!

A wholesale date.

A very good friend asked me last week if it is possible to find a date in Manila with his age preference. My answer was a meek “yes, possibly.” which doesn’t seem encouraging. But what am I suppose to say to a subject that is equally alien to me?

So I did some research and found out that if one is willing to part with Php800 or an equivalent to $17 one can get 24 dates instead of just three ladies drink. Yeah,you read it right, twenty four.

I am talking about speed dating, where 24 men and women are in attendance. The rules of speed dating are fairly simple. Singles gather in a café or a similar venue, armed with nametags, a scorecards, maybe a well rehearsed answers to possible questions, pick up lines downloaded from the internet and a sparkling personality.

The couples will be paired off for their first date. They will be allowed to discuss anything except their fetishes and whether or not they have been intimate with domestic animals. Joke!

After three minutes of conversation, a bell is rung and the coordinator tells the participants to move to their next date. Yeah, this may seem like a fast-food dating, but unlike vasectomy, men can always rejoin speed dating events as many times as they want.

From what I’ve read, I understand that speed dating is safe dating because there are standards that must be upheld. Women for instance can demand that the men participating in the speed dating event are certifiably single, have no criminal records, and not a politician. Men on the other hand can demand that the women should have pulse. Ok, again I am just trying to be cute.

Secondly, speed dating is good for the health as men can bail out of dating chitchat in three minutes, which is a lifetime for men to converse before they collapse of heart attack. Oh we know that women can talk and talk and they don’t even have to make a point, while men try to talk but they don’t even know what to say.

It is also secure dating, as the three minute conversation is not wiretapped and will not be use as blackmail when one goes out on future dates.

After each date (3 minutes long), the participant mark on their scorecard whether they might be interested in meeting their date again. If a participant mark yes in his/her tally sheet after meeting a certain person and that person also mark yes on the said participant, then, it’s a match. And for those who get “matched,” the organizers provide each party with the other’s number. It is then up to the matched singles to contact or stalk each other.

However what truly bothers me about speed dating is the ability to generate that ‘spark” within three minutes, especially when there is no medication involved. Are they simply taking a strong whiff of the person in front of them?

Maybe I should tell my friend to hone his olfactory senses and sniff out his prospective mate instead...

PMS - permissible manslaughter

My sons call me Kali whenever I get angry, and I admit that I do succumb to fit of divine feminine anger whenever I have my PMS.

But I would disagree entirely to a picture of me sporting a hideous countenance, like the Indian goddess in the picture. That’s extremely exaggerated! I don’t have a lolling tongue, or a pendulous breast, but I admit I seem like ready to devour the world when I am mad, hahaha.

So ok, for the woefully ignorant male population, premenstrual syndrome refers to a mood disorder which occurs during the second half of a woman’s cycle which eventually resolves itself with our period. I have also come to personally know PMS as “God’s wrath to man.”

Now, for those men who do not want to become a fashion accessory (glance at the picture), there are certain rules that apply when you are confronted by female anger.

The first rule is that, women have the divine right to get angry at you about anything because it is your entire fault. Our problem at work, our lack of sleep, our constipation, the slow internet connection, the wrong shade of lipstick, our PMS – all these can and will be traced back to you.

The second rule is that you don’t have the luxury of getting angry back at us (glances at the picture the second time, and think of a necklace of human skulls dangling in front of your face).

The third rule is that we can say the most scornful, scandalous, hurtful, and venomous things to you, but you must ignore what we said because apparently we don’t mean them.
Besides, whatever we say in a bout of anger is forgotten fifteen minutes later.

The fourth rule compliments the third, which mean if we send you scornful, scandalous, hurtful text messages, you’re suppose to delete them IMMEDIATELY. Unless you want your cell phone lodge up your large intestine, do not keep a record of these messages and show them to us next argument.

And the last rule, never ever try to get physical with us if you don’t want us to pull out an ACME hammer from thin air and get Bugs Bunny on your ass, literally. Of course you may have noticed that angry women in cartoons could summon a mallet from nowhere and mercilessly clobber a man who gets her ire.

The key thing is, you may respond to our anger but we don’t want you to be angry with us in return. Just don’t pay attention to what we say as to how we say it, and this may just save you from kissing face with an ACME hammer.

And yes, I am writing this while I am PMSing.