#internetfriendsday

A few weeks back my sister got home from school seething and usually I steer clear of her -or anyone that pissed- when I can but something about her screams ‘let me vent’ so I asked what’s she’s reeling about. She told me that in one of her classes a prof blatantly told the class that there is NO such thing as a friendship forged online.

They’re not REAL friendships.

tumblr_mfikesvBDn1rz2r65o1_500

Let me tell you about my little sister, she’s a world of words in her head but she usually stays in her quiet corner outside of it. You have to be either really dorky, like me, or very close to her for her to even consider starting a conversation with you much more maintain it. When she started with Twitter and Tumblr, she met teens just like her- a little awkward and shy but very creative and witty and with so many stories to tell and talents to show. She grew more outgoing and trusted people more.

People may argue that it’s an unconventional interaction. You can choose to hide behind anonymity or refuse eye contact or whatever else traditional social interactions it requires to make the encounter a success. Really though, what are the rules of friendship? And who made anyone judge of it?

IDGAF

Because trust and honesty, they’re not founded on proximity or your ability to physically touch someone, Yes, it makes it infinitely easier to comfort your sobbing best friend if you didn’t have a few thousand miles separating you but where were these apprehensions when we force women into arranged marriages or soldiers falling madly inlove with women they’ve ONLY written letters to. THEY WEREN’T BECAUSE CIRCUMSTANCES ARE ARBITRARY AND YOU HAVE TO JUDGE THEM AS SUCH. 

My ability to be a good friend is not limited to a hug or hauling ice cream and a bunch movies to your place when you feel like crap. It also means that I’m here to listen to your rants, share in your eccentricities, reassure you of how much I care, confide in you when no one else is willing to listen and accept you for everything that you are and choose to do including SHARING A FRIENDSHIP WITH ME ONLINE. No one has the right to tell me what my standards should be for friendships.

large (48)

I CHOOSE WHO MY REAL FRIENDS ARE AND THEY’RE BASED ON SO MUCH MORE THAN THE SUPERFICIALITY OF PHYSICAL AFFECTION. 

I’m in no way belittling the treasure mined from friends I’ve physically met and spent lots of time with. They’re all amazing and I thank the heavens everyday that they put up with me. All I’m saying is the connection that I organically feel with them can manifest with anyone, in any form, anywhere. It doesn’t have to be 2 meters away from me. It can be behind a screen, 5 time zones away.

So I’ll end this with a personal message to every single person I’ve met online and established a friendship with. The means of our meeting doesn’t in anyway change my admiration, care and love for each and everyone of you and I’ll debate any prof who tells me otherwise. 

large (45)

 

 

 

 

 

and danie if you’re reading this, it’s for you love. -wink-

things i wanna do with you

or in the words of the romantic, the couple bucket list.

I’ve had series of posts about real heavy social issues like bullying, social disorder and depression the past few weeks and I thought now’s the time to set a lighter tone. After all this is passport to rainbows. It should have different colors, not always blues and indigos. Here’s your touch of something sunny yellow and love-filled red.

blank-page

photo by Artsy, your quirky blogger

Hold your horses people. My typography is far from perfect but I thought my effort to make something as romantic and cheesy is enough to win you over. You know how much I suck at that. So here’s my little attempt to join the bandwagon of couples with their heart-filled eyes and creative gestures.

 

Image

the little things

After my uncle’s wedding, servers started handing out gift bags. Everyone was running around, picking up their things, fixing their hair, getting ready to leave that very few peeked to see what was in it. My 4-year old cousin, being very curious, started opening her gift bag in the middle if the dance floor. We didn’t really mind her until we realized that half the gift bags on our table was opened, very carefully ripped up top and clumsily reattached to appear sealed. There was only one thing missing.

I came up to her and asked, ‘Sam, where are the cupcakes?’

She slowly looked up and said, 

cupcake monster

 

It made us all laugh so hard we forgot about cleaning up, fixing our dress, finding our missing room key and just focus on what’s left of the night. Every time I look at this picture it reminds me of that night, of that feeling- one of carefree bliss.

We have to enjoy the little things, those unexpected moments in life that make us happy. It doesn’t always have to be grand and big. We don’t always have to rush. If we do, we’ll let moments like this pass us by and that’s honestly too bad.

Mr. Chivalry and Ms. Gender Equality

How many of us women expect a guy to open the door for us, pay for dinner, offer to carry the bags or take our puppies for walks? And yet, we also expect to be treated equally and with as much independence as anyone is allowed.

I know, I know guys. It sounds ultra confusing and it just underlines the prehistoric argument that women are fickle and are from a different planet. Bear with me as I give a you peek into our allegedly differently wired brains.

loveit

Patriarchal paradigms took decades to destroy and to this day there are still semblances of that kind of discrimination so forgive us, male species, if we feel apprehensive whenever you selflessly offer us a hand. Like most people, there are days when we feel we have to stand up for ourselves even in the smallest of threatening circumstances- carrying our luggage, opening the door or calling a cab home. I’m sure this also happens when we take care of you too much like bringing you cookies during boys night out or making you wear knitted pink cardigans. Emasculating right? Well, deviating from the take-care-of-us habit makes us feel we can take care of ourselves, we’re our own people- which is true of course. It doesn’t mean we do not appreciate your instinct to help out when you see fit. Accept that there times when we don’t want to be helped.

Then there’s also the argument that different women have different tolerances to chivalry. I, for instance, thank men who offer me a seat during the long commute because I’m usually wearing 5 inch pumps but I don’t believe men should always pay when going on dates. You’re not a credit card. I can’t just charge all of our outings on your wad because I ate and had fun too. Don’t blame the entire female population for your thinning wallet because not every one is after free dinners and your shiny card. And yes, there will be women who will not tolerate any man doing anything for them period. There are also those who are traditional and would demand that you do everything for them.  Those extremes exist and if you land one of those girls, it’s up to you to figure out her individual tolerance. Most of us on the other hand want a perfect balance of independence and gentlemanly encounters. It’s not the confusing, right?

Intent is also an important ingredient when performing acts of chivalry. A gentlemen opens a door for a girl not because he thinks she’s a lesser being, weaker and easily manipulated by men, but because he respects her enough and wishes to show simple acts of admiration by making her life a little easier. You see, intent may not be said but it is felt. Woman or not, a person knows when someone is doing an act good out of good or out of sheer arrogance.

The goal of feminism or gender quality is not to destroy moments of interaction between men and women.

feminist-hate-men-separate-with-comma-yes-Favim.com-224251

Empowering ourselves, knowing that we are treated as equals in all media does not reduce our clamor for romance and simple, random acts of admiration. Feminism means listen to us. Understand our needs and make us a part of your decisions. Often the best forms of chivalry respond to that need when used at the right time with the right women.

Image

like looking in the mirror

with my little sister

We have so much in common and yet we’re very different.

Although

-People say I come off too strong and you too shy.

-You’d rather endure and I’d rather stand up and fight.

-I live for the moments I travel alone and you hate even just waking up alone.

We share

-the love of books

-the creative soul that drives us to write, draw, paint and take  pictures

-the absolute obsession over seafood and pasta

-the appreciation for indie music

-the yearning to watch all the latest movies

-the geeky love for comic books and their movie franchises

-the spontaneity for travel and the adventurous heart for experiencing other cultures

-a steady disposition about the things we hate and love

I guess God knew what he was doing when, 10 years after I was born, mom conceived you little sis.

man of my dreams

or should I say MEN of my dreams?

The past few months I decided to rekindle my passion for chronicling my dreams (and I mean real dreams, ones you have when you’re sleeping) on a dream journal. So far I have 3 dreams vivid and interesting enough to be entries. Too bad I haven’t gotten around to buying a journal. For now, I write them down on the nearest piece of paper I could grab and if there’s not one in sight, I type it down relentlessly on my phone.

Then I thought, why not blog about it instead?

The first part of the dream was a mad dash from one place to another. I don’t remember why I was such in a hurry but it must have been really important because I was almost out of breath the whole time. All I remember is sitting with people I don’t know striking up a conversation, asking them what they thought about some pictures. It was dare, one I always do with my friends (when I’m awake obviously). Everything else was a blur until…

I walk into another dream. It was in a huge, modern hall. It reminds me of a school gym only brighter and with better air conditioning. It seems that I was one of the organizers of the event because I was running around, trying to deal with everything. I remember walking up to a friend and discussing some things when someone approached me.

HIM: Hi, I’m Ryan!

ME: Hey, we met right?

HIM: Yup! Last night, you sat with us.

ME: Sorry, sorry, sorry. That was a dare.

I could feel my cheeks turning bright red as I try to stumble the words out of my lips. He’s one of the guys from the table I randomly talked to. UGH! This is embarrassing.

HIM: No, no! Don’t be. It was…uhm…interesting.

ME: Sorry what’s your name again?

HIM: Munchkin.

He smiles and winks. Did I call him that before? I don’t remember but it sounded cute so I let it slide. He reaches out for my hand and shakes it.

HIM: Really nice meeting you.

I’m sure I’ve never met him outside my dream. Does that mean anything? I already forget most of his features but I remember his bright smile and chinky eyes. I don’t even remember why he seems to think we call each other munchkin. Why on earth would I call someone a munchkin? I eat munchkins not use it to call a guy as a term of endearment. Weird, weird but really sweet. 

Then another guy walks up to me and smiles. I remember him from my other dream. He’s friend with the Ryan. He stands right beside me and puts his arm around my shoulders. I tried to stare at him as he rested his head on mine.

ME: Who are we doing this for?

I asked him as I tried to look around the room. I guess I was looking for a jealous ex or a girl he’s currently courting.

HIM: Nobody.

ME: HA-HA! Funny. Joking right?

HIM: No, I just really like you.

I feel flutters in my tummy, ones which feel really tingly but so good at the same time. We stayed that way for some time until a woman called our attention to the stage and asked us to put our heads down and pray.

Pray, really? I thought I was in some conference. I guess dreams don’t always make sense. More importantly, who was that guy? I don’t think I’ve met him before but strangely, he feels familiar like I’ve known him for a long time. He’s really cute and sweet, the guy- next-door type who’s sporting a really short brown hair and sporty yellow shirt. 

I keep wondering what the dream meant. Was it a deep-seated desire, a bleak memory, a peek into the future or just another happy story? I guess I might never know. If ever meet them though, then we’ll have one hell of an intro.

‘Hey! I met you in my dream.’ (Then he’ll say, “Me too.”)