Saturday, December 24, 2011

Seven ways to say I love you without saying it…

[1] KISS. A kiss is a most intimate gesture of human warmth towards the other that even nature does it on an ethereal and transcendent way: A feline streak of sun light that gently crawls its lips upon a morning glade. Try to kiss that way… Many times it’s the most endearing, lasting sexual bliss there is—better than the hottest sex—because a kiss lasts, conveys, connects longer than a 3-minute orgasm. So kiss that way—kiss like it’s a need than obligation, pleasure than ritual. But be sure to brush your teeth and gurgle first… No human being deserves to kiss another human being with a KFC morsel in between their front teeth.

[2] DOMESTICATE your love and affection. Cook for her—cooking is a profound personal expression of connectedness and compassion. You are feeding the body as well as the spirit—besides the quiet fact that eating dinner together means you are really together. Or wash her clothes, if need be—iron them, as well. Don’t be embarrassed to include her undies, too—that is, if she allows it. Just be sure that you know how to segregate this and that fabric or clothes, and use the right detergent (is she into non-toxic stuff, respect it!) and be extra certain that you are pretty knowledgeable how to operate the washer-dryer. Don't mess up the machine... More importantly, you don’t want to ruin her Gucci, Prada, and Valentino! THAT is a cardinal sin!

[3] SURPRISE her with little, silly, corny gifts: a garden-plucked magnolia with a line from a Lisa Gilbert book, ham sandwich or hummus salad (if she is a vegetarian, respect it!) placed on her car’s companion seat as she goes to work, a red red rose on her pillow (cut off the thorns and briers, dude!)—sometimes, a flea market-scored flower vase or antique nightstand or scarf from a consignment store works good or a Pekingese cat at an animal rescue center. Elicit that smile and hug, these sweet little somethings matter. But don’t surprise her with a baby boa constrictor pet atop the TV set as she goes home: that is pretty much a shock—bigtime shock, get it? (Well, not unless your GF is Lady Gaga… that’d be fine, I guess.)

[4] CLEAN her car or fix her bed. These are some of those tiny tasks or seemingly nonsensical chores that don’t get notice as we feed our insatiable thirst for obligatory toil so we could sustain our hold at life’s physical comforts. We jump out of bed to keep up with the rush and adrenalin of daily grind; we hop in and out of the car and nonchalantly trash the day’s litter all over the car floor and back seat as we drive and text—knowing we could attend to these little things later, and so before we know it, the car has been stuffed with Bojangles chicken bones and Mickey Dees boxes, and the bed looked like a WWF arena. It’d be cool that when she comes home to rest, the bed looks like a Holiday Inn suite that smells like lovin’, and when she drives back to work, her car looks like the inside of a limo to Shangri-la.

[5] Those three words could be articulated better via a POEM, song, artwork—so you don’t need to be such a trying-hard jerk who says I love you in between quick glances at your Blackberry for NFL updates. Everybody texts as they interact so how do you know your man (or woman) is paying attention at all? This is not a 100 percent guarantee of unmitigated attention or focus but at least you could convince her that you spent all night writing her a sonnet, you dig? But don’t you ever commit the stupid mistake of copy-pasting a Neruda or Shakespeare love poem at poemhunter.com and say it's yours– you must know that that everything can be googled anytime. One click and you’re dead!

[6] Criticize her mom’s Dolly Parton hair-do, junk her bestfriend’s love for Burger King dollar meals, lambast her hair stylist’s style—but don’t, DON’T, you ever diss her PET (may it be a babedawg, koolcat, alligator, or pterodactyl). That is a super-huge no-no. Instead, always appreciate the darn animal, okay? If she is a PETA member or anti-animal cruelty advocate, respect it! Bring the pet a treat—and better make it a “healthy” chow (remember, if she's into ethical stuff, respect it!). Sometimes, well—believe it or not, you must pet the babedawg/koolcat first before you go to lady. She will love you double for your sensitivity and sublimity.

[7] BE PRESENT. Value moments. In spite of or no matter how busy your respective social and work lives are, always have open-ended moments with her. There will always be workloads and neglected tasks to do or attend to—but there will only one love to nurture… Always think that she’s waiting and you are coming, and vice versa. Talk but make sure you have other subjects to talk about apart from an Occupy issue, GOP debate, or a Kardashian butt; and listen, listen to her no matter how loud and annoying her whinings and mopings are. Words that come out of human mouths are like music and poetry when both listen and talk. The heart listens good…
… and if all these don’t work, well—what the hell, say I LOVE YOU!

Sunday, December 4, 2011

TEN Reasons Why I Unfriend…

MY Facebook is like my living room that is open to public—in all continents, seven seas, and Milky Way. A “living room”—which means, this place isn’t my bathroom or bedroom, so there! Although I am so fond of sharing what I just ate or cooked, or where I spent my last weekend (at least, I offer hints), or what sort of housework I just accomplished (yes, I do stuff apart from dishwashing and laundry), or what's up with my kids—it doesn’t necessarily mean that it’s all “reality FB” around here. There’s still a whole lot of details and infos about my little life and shenanigans that I don’t feel a tad comfortable to bare in here. You can still call me painfully reclusive and I will not argue it… And yes, although I have close to 4500 “friends,” I still unfriend people (if they’re actually “people” and not a few of Cyd’s clandestine MIBs).

[1] Bloated, overdrawn discussion that evolves into nasty ARGUMENTS. Although my intensely opinionated girth always gets caught in a quicksand of passionate debates and verbal engagements, it doesn’t mean I enjoy them. I don’t… I am done with those prolonged jousts about politics of the day and blahblah—that I so love to sink my tiny little brain into when I was younger. These days, I’d rather write my thoughts, one way, no arguments whatsoever—than negotiate a curb and preach my madness to the next soul. You see, there are people who simply are experts in acerbic provocations—they will argue why babedawgs bark 7 times a day, why winter is cold, why soda isn’t called pop, and why the hell they are alone and lonely yet their koolcat has a Friday night date… I like discussion with like-minded friends, albeit virtual—but once it gets a bit of a headbutting gig, I’d rather digress and unfriend. If you don’t like my stuff, why sit on my couch, right?

[2] Blurbs and quips that tend to be too PERSONAL… Again, as follow up to Item #1, I do enjoy sharing my virtual mung beans soup and if I agree with what Anderson Cooper just said or why am I the only human being watching Jerry Springer—but I don’t think I’d reveal the color of my underwear or who the beautiful lady that I last dated or why is it I never adjusted my status to Single, Married, In An Relationship, Imprisoned, or Simply Bored. So I am not at all amused with prying screwdrivers who dig in too much like the New Inquisition, and pick up a fight via my Wall… you know what I’m sayin’? Of course, you know what I am saying…

[3] PORNOGRAPHIC minds. I am not saying that I don’t surf a porno site once in a while, because I do. Yes, indeed—I do, but not the perverse type though (if watching ordinary-looking couples with imperfect bodies on intimate moments doesn’t qualify as “perverse,” then I am fine, right?) But I don’t like pornos sent via emails or FBs—apart from the fact that almost all of these nuisances are spam viruses. I mean, I don’t even welcome 4-letter f-words thrown like vodka vomit in here…

[4] As I just said on Item #1, I like discussion of daily matters, stuff and things—from Black Friday shopping madness to China’s domination of the world to a Kardashian frivolity to the Rolling Stones’ next tour… Kafka, Beavis and Butthead, Thai cuisine, sex in Brazil, global warming in Antarctica, Ayn Rand, Calvin and Hobbes. Stuff, you know. What I don’t favor are those who COMPLAIN a humongous lot about anything. They go online yet they complain about the internet, they drive a car yet they whine about traffic, they criticize smokers and meat-eaters yet they guzzle up alcohol like it’s water to a fish, they say they are lonely but they mope about their disgusting neighbors or moms and dad who call on Saturday afternoon, they want to help feed all inhabitants of Sub-Saharan Africa but they rant and rave about antibiotics and all that paranoid toxicity in food, etcetera etcetera. You know, people who always carry a pin to burst your bubble, or always come in handy with a negative retort to your positive wavelength… These are the kind of raincloud earthlings who doesn’t notice a flower standing aloft a phalanx of dead brush or a streak of sun coming through a weeping windowpane. They are so freakin’ morose!

[5] I don’t get much of these quizzes and game INVITES anymore, so it’s cool. Maybe I am one of those FB rats (or squirrels) who spend a fantastic amount of time on Facebook but don’t do any of the Yoville or Farmville stuff. I am too short-attention span dude to keep glued to an online game for three minutes… Also, I hate TAGGERS who don’t ask permission to tag. It’s pretty much a wild trespass or a random tag on your car or something. That is so unacceptable, man!

[6] Elongated exchange of RELIGIOUS sermons on the mount or IDEOLOGICAL speeches. I am pretty much aware of friends—real, “offline” friends—who use Facebook as an advocacy or propaganda tool. And I agree it is effective—after all, many claim that FB helped launch successful revolutions in the Middle East, as well as to jumpstart the Occupy movement. But my FB is not like that. It’s simply a frenzied cornucopia of this and that, it’s thrift store, a downtown flea market, it’s like a café for one and all. It’s cheap, it’s profound, it’s surreal, it’s intellectual, it’s corny, it’s funny, it’s scornful, it’s romantic, it’s angry, it’s sarcastic, it’s me. But I don’t like a long stream of super-political and “spiritual hallelujahs,” although a bit of these is fine…

[7] Well-meaning but overzealous people who invite you to a BILLION EVENTS, although you never show up at all. And I am not really good at attending events, parties, meetings, gatherings anyways. I’ve always preferred the quiet comfort of my room… I’ve always been this kind of “unsocial” dude who is actually kind of social, by virtue of so many community events and organizational projects/program that I have organized in my life. So to save the ink or whatever, better not include me in your 1 million people to invite list… although I will find it more thoughtful and sweet if you send me a one-liner, individual/exclusive note (I may show up).

[8] Hostile EX’ES. I have a number of former girlfriends in my Friends List—maybe they read me, maybe they don’t. But we are mutually quiet (with each other). I unfriended maybe two or three ex’es but the one ex that really pissed me off was the one who was so gracious in being my “friend” again, yet she made it a point to beat me up, clash with me like sneaky Scud missile, or wickedly criticize whatever I post. It’s the kind of person who comes to your house with a smile and then starts criticizing unwashed dishes on my sink, dust on windowsill, the Dollar Tree painting on the bathroom wall, the sort of magazines on my desk, and Cyd’s unmade litter box… yet still has the gall to say, “I only have compassion for you.” Ex’es who praised you to the heights of Mt Kilimanjaro and called you The Greatest when you were still dating, and then totally made a huge U-turn when you broke up—so any opportunity that’s open to them to lash out at you, they’d take it. UNf------gFRIEND them, pronto!

[9] People that you are certain you’d NEVER MEET in person or in real life. If these people are unnecessary in your life—online or offline—why befriend them, in the first place? There are a number of reasons why I create friends or reconnect with friends or maintain friends in my life: they could be business collaborations, project connects, really cool people with a diversity of interesting takes and insights about life and living, and just plain human beings who could be such gifts in real life. I don’t want to maintain or sustain an online communication with someone that I am sure I’d never meet in the real world at all—I don’t care if the person lives in Bosnia-Herzegovina or Tonga, I want to be sure that I am talking with a real person that I may share a coffee or beer somewhere in the future.

[10] People that are soooooooo IN LOVE with life and the world, that it freakin’ screams like a loud denial. These are the kind of people who doesn’t want to hear anything about people getting hungry, being killed, thrown out of houses etc. They believe that the world is one race, everybody has a full stomach, love is all that they see when they dance with fireflies in the quiet confines of their fancy idylls by the woods… Most often than not, these are the kind of immaculate urchins who’d rather cover their faces with masks of white as they pass by a phalanx of starving souls by an uneasy street. They believe that they will go straight to heaven because they are made to be pure and peaceful, loving and lovely. UNFRIEND them, is all.

Monday, October 31, 2011

Seven Cool, Almost Funk-Free Alternatives to Banking Institutions…

[1] Try the Filipino group money lending concept called PALUWAGAN, a sort of a community-based or neighborhood mutual fund or small informal cooperative. I found this concept to be very effective, useful, and fun when I was in grade school. “Paluwagan” is a Filipino word—rooted from “magpaluwal” or simple money lending, and “nakaluluwag” which is synonymous to giving. This system has been so popular in the Philippines especially in the rural region. The “paluwagan” fund doesn’t go directly to a broker. The concept is to pool the participants’ money—by means of daily, weekly, or even monthly collections to be collected by a leader. The participants will cast lots to determine who will receive the total pooled money. There are other ways on how “paluwagan” system works. It’s up to the participants on how they should plan on what kind of rotation they will implement.
     Bottomline, in case you’d like to apply for a loan, you don’t have to beg a Wells Fargo or Bank of America and offer your soul as collateral—you can easily borrow the fund in the “paluwagan.” This, however, entails a lot of trust—hence, a fluid and solid community relations is imperative. You don’t just sign up a participant via a Tweet or Facebook email or an application from Klingon Planet… You need to first hang out and forge friendships, face to face, with people to be able to make this work.

[2] BARTER or trade. Ever wonder if there’s no money or what they call “legal tender” passing through hands after hands? When people just offer: “Hey, want me to repaint your awning in exchange for a sack of potato?” or “I will give you a ride to and from Westville Pub but can you look after my pet pterodactyl and boa constrictor tomorrow?” Or even simple transactions like, “I’ll give you foot massage, will you rub my back?” But, uhh… I think that’ll only work with a girlfriend or wife, right? But you get the drift… At least, you don’t have to go to a Citigroup bank and trade: “Mr Bank Manager, could you loan me some money to buy a new car so I can go to work—in exchange for my soul and my babedawg’s paw and my koolcat’s hair?”

[3] Explore the feasibility of microfinance in your community. What immediately comes to mind is GRAMEEN BANK—a community development bank in Bangladesh that makes small loans (known as microcredit or "grameencredit") to the impoverished without requiring collateral. The word “Grameen” is derived from the word “gram” which means "rural" or "village" in the Bengali language.
     The system of this bank is based on the idea that the poor have skills that are under-utilized. A group-based credit approach is applied which utilizes the peer-pressure within the group to ensure the borrowers follow through and use caution in conducting their financial affairs with strict discipline, ensuring repayment eventually and allowing the borrowers to develop good credit standing. The bank also accepts deposits, provides other services, and runs several development-oriented businesses including fabric, telephone and energy companies.
     The Western world recognizes this banking system yet it doesn’t endorse it, for obvious reason. But Grameen Bank can be duplicated in the US, especially in small towns—where small, independent entrepreneurs could bond together to build a prototype.

[4] INVEST in your friends’ independent business. Help him and then he helps you—everybody happy, have a backyard barbecue! I mean, why entrust your money to so-called professionals or experts, ie Edward Jones or Charles Schwab—those names sound like New Wave singers high on Epoxy, anyways… Try someone that you actually know.

[5] COOPERATIVES. A cooperative is an autonomous association of persons united voluntarily to meet their common economic, social, and cultural needs and aspirations through jointly owned and democratically controlled enterprise. A cooperative may also be defined as a business owned and controlled equally by the people who use its services or by the people who work there. I turned to Wikipedia to defined cooperatives—but you get idea, right? But then, with so many reasons for people to sever ties or fight (“Hey, I didn’t know that you’ve been using aluminum foil?!” / “Damn, you just chugged in a corporate Bud, I thought you’re an organic PBR dude?!?”)—how could this work? It will… just try forming one. If it doesn’t, I don’t know anymore…

[6] SURRENDER your money to your wife or girlfriend. I mean, I am sure this is not going to fly in this culture—but maybe some may agree. Back home, men are primarily tasked to provide livelihood through steady employment or business ventures to the family; women or housewives mostly control financial decisions—from small household/open market purchases to the children’s educational exigencies. In case hubby couldn’t earn enough or barely enough money to cover bills—sorry, dude! “No prime ribs tonight, sorry honey—we need to pay Netflix first!” / “What about my weed, sweety?” / “Www-what???? With this money and you still got the nerve to ask for weed money???” BLAM! “Now, you are sleeping in the babedawg house!”
     In fact, there is an existing labor law that specifically applied to overseas workers (mostly husbands who work in the Middle East). Their salary directly goes to a national bank (ah!) that only honors withdrawals transacted by the legal or common-law wife, none other. The hubby couldn’t even withdraw a cent from his pay… So it’s common practice that whenever men desire to, say, hang out with the boys on a weekend—he first has to try to apply for a little loan from wifey… Dig?

[7] Use CASH as much as possible, if you can help it—don’t use credit. Simple. Self-explanatory. Don’t spend money that you haven’t earned yet—especially when you don’t even have a job. But how the hell you got the credit card, anyway? Beats me…

Sunday, August 7, 2011

MOST LIKELY you are in love…

[1] When you tend to be eerily forgetful and AWFULLY ABSENT-MINDED. Before you get enraptured by her lost-girl Zooey Dechanel stare or sneaky George Clooney wink, you never once missed an episode of “America’s Got Talent,” NY Times’ Sunday crossword, return an important errand call from your boss, or mow the front lawn. The first level of the love/infatuation madness revolves around starry-eyed indolence, prolonged moments by a rain-soaked windowpane, non-stop adherence to 70s sentimental radio, and paranoid gazes at your cellphone or inbox for a message or two. Not good… so before you get fired for missed deadlines and run over a pile up of unattended dirty dishes on the sink, deal with it right here right now: If you feel you are in love, go tell her/him—and demand an instant response. If you don’t get a yes answer, then—invoke Cher in “Moonstruck” (to Nicolas Cage): “SNAP OUT OF IT!”

[2] When you begin SAYING YES to a lot of stuff and things that you rejected, dismissed, or didn’t agree with before. It’s because, at this moment, you see the world as a positive wheel of possibilities, not probabilities; certainties, not doubts; promises, not fears. It’s because you’d like to exert more tolerance and instill more patience at knowing and understanding issues and matters that you didn’t give a chance to flourish or bloom when you first tried them. Everything seems a doorway to anything good and pleasurable… Love doesn’t question, it just keeps on understanding. It could be a bit silly to some, but then—if love isn’t a silly, beautiful gift of humanity, then we will all be single people watching waves come and go by a lonesome shore. And the closest touch of intimacy that we can grasp is an overnight of hot, fleeting sex.

[3] When you start wearing dresses and clothes with loud colors and gaudy designs. The planet becomes a psychedelic discotheque—and LIFE WHIRLS AND TWIRLS like a hula hoop. It has become hip, cool and fashionable to be wearing a tangerine and purple Big Bird gown and straw hat adorned with summertime flowers—although it’s winter or whatever unseasonal instance this could be. Who cares what you’re up to these days, no more greys and blacks and whites. You may even dress your pug or poodle with a Lady Gaga chemise whatever, as long as you don’t dye her fur orange…

[4] When suddenly you are freakin’ CORNY AS HELL. You become surprisingly cheesy, and have chucked your acerbic, holier-than-thou political rants in favor of elementary Adam Sandler gags. Suddenly, who cares about Obama’s take on debt relief and GOPs’ tact on health care; all you talk about are some recycled SNL sitcom gawks and silly high school jokes. You are now spending more time checkin’ out Hallmark card shelves at Target and have been watching The Food Network more than ever, and has been squeezing your beer budget to save some on flowers and chocolates… Well, I am telling you: IT IS FREAKIN’ CORNY! But love has this magical power to melt hearts like marshmallows, feel young like a squeaking piglet, and frivolous as in a 3-year old kid throwing snowballs at your neighbors VW… But that childish reverie shouldn’t last longer than a few weeks, otherwise—you need to see a shrink.

[5] When you FEEL LIKE DANCING whenever you cook, gardening, doing the laundry. You are just happy and lively and on constant celebratory mood. It’s like—although all you get on primetime TV are those whiny housewives, it’s like they’re all Mother Teresas and Marge Simpsons. Your ramen noodles taste like salmon on white cheese, gardening is like ice skating, and laundry work is like chill-out time on a hammock by a Pacific isle beach-front.

[6] When you desire more KISSING AND HOLDING than actual intercourse. Love is derived from mutual intimacy—and kissing and holding make it more real and achievable. So if you happen to postpone or cancel meeting up and spending time together just because it’s her monthly period, that means—you are not in love at all. There are a lot of beautiful things to do together that articulate what you two mutually feel—in the absence of nakedness.Moreover, most of these blessings of romantic relationships are muddled or ruined by sexual politics that pervade in the current generation… If a relationship suddenly becomes a witch-hunt for faults (because he is “such a man, and she acts like a woman”), and interactions turn into a boot camp for gender wars, then kissing is trivial and nonsense. Better quit altogether.

[7] When your INSECURITY AND SENTIMENTALISM torture you like razor blade on melting butter. This is one of the baddest parts of being madly in love—the fear of losing her/him, because you might not come up to her/his standard or she/he might be a player. You are unreasonably, unbelievable insecure if you start worrying that maybe she found a better dude on the hallway—after she excused herself to go to a bathroom while dining at a downtown bar-restaurant… just because she spent time in there for more than 2 minutes and 17 seconds. Or when a random woman greets him with, “How are you doing, Bret Michaels?” on Facebook Wall, you start nagging him that maybe he’s secretly sleeping with Heather Locklear or Khloe Kardashian? Or maybe you are scared that she’ll discover that you are a huge fan of Barry Manilow, or he will find out sooner or later that your high school crush was Rick Astley? Come on, deal with it! Love is love and it doesn’t measure whatever or quantify whichever…

[8] When you again wants to watch “Sleepless in Seattle” and “Love Story” in one night. Love makes humans feel DREAMY… fantasizing of those little, sweet moments smooching on a gondola in Venice, hugging tightly by Bellagio’s dancing fountain in Las Vegas, or shrieking I-love-you’s as you bungee jump down Grand Canyon—to profess your neverending je t’aime. It’s okay to dream and fantasize, you know—but keep your feet planted on reality ground. Maybe you two can only afford an afternoon walk by a Blue Ridge Mountains trail, hand in hand, sharing a PBR on a brown bag… or a quiet hummus/kale broth dinner at Rosetta’s at 2 in the morning. That’s okay, really. It’s perfectly normal to engage in a crazy dream segment or two once in a while—in some Shangri-la situation—because that also proves that you are in love.

[9] When you start getting SCARED OF BEING ALONE again. Yes, her/his presence is the most important ever in life and living… It has become so cold in bed without that other body warming yours up, dinner has become a freezing prison cell chow, shopping isn’t so exciting anymore without him pushing the cart or her taking too much time on the cosmetics section, and driving alone feels like a solitary journey in a space capsule in milky way. You miss his noisy ravings as he pores over Yahoo news, her whiny chats with her mom on the phone, his muddy loafers on the front door, her boring meditation CDs in the bathroom boombox, his old toothbrush in the sink, her hair on the pillow… Without him/her, loneliness has become so unbearable.

[10] When the words “I LOVE YOU” is said at least four times a day (before you part ways for work in the morning, amidst job breaks via cellphone calls or email message, as you kiss each other when both gets home, and a goodnight kiss)—is enough to assure you that you are together. This time, trust and believe—too much digging on the why’s and wherefore’s of love and “I love you” in terms of justifying/rationalizing words—is not good. Just take it easy—live good, love good, and eat good food—together.

Thursday, May 26, 2011

FIVE SUGGESTIONS to those who just broke up, separated, or divorced…

[1] First in line: DON’T DATE on the rebound. Or even try to hook up with a sexual partner just because you seem to be lonely, depressed or wanting validation or revenge—after you kicked him/her out the door or after you walked away. Sexual intimacy is not a drugstore prescription or a diet pill—although most people look at it that way. Provided one of the major reasons for your break-up is lack of romantic activity in the bedroom, finding someone to fix that right after giving up—is the stupidest move you’d ever do. You’ll know why, if you haven’t yet.

[2] Spend time with LOVED ONES: Parents, sisters and brothers, and most especially—your kids. Take them to a long drive, camp for the weekend, hike or sail, be together. They want to know what’s up, they are very concerned if you’re okay, and dad/mom is okay, too… Respond to their questions, listen—more than you expound your reasons for breaking up. This time, it’s not about you or him/her—it’s them. Don’t defend yourself or throw the blame on your partner, just make the kids feel and believe that it’s not their fault, and that, there is hope in the horizon despite the estrangement.

[3] TAKE A BREAK, alone. Travel to a faraway city or town—or country—where no one knows you. Go to a place where no one will make you feel sorry, blamed, angry, vindictive, vengeful, or triumphant—about your breakup. It’s a breakup and it needs to go… Reflect more on positive areas of your newly-acquired freedom. Don’t dwell on the bad stuff. Better be, go to a totally new world, new culture, new realities—and explore new possibilities, rediscover your inner peace and quiet. Don’t try to solicit confirmation or acceptance from a furious jilted lovers club that turns misery into a war of attrition between sexes and allow your fate to be a burning case study for sexual politics. Your case is simple but true: It didn’t work. It’s not his/her mess or yours. It just didn’t work, period.

[4] Navigate your CREATIVE humanity. There are a lot of wonderful things to do and accomplish in life than spend or throw it away by whining with a broken hearts convergence army. Quit weeping and cursing alone in front of a daytime soap opera with Krispy Kremes on hand or soak your midnights with a grainy b-movie, drowning your sorrows with Smirnoff. Instead—write a book, start a blog, paint a mural, compose an opera, dig up your backyard and build a garden, organize a band, produce a concert, develop a recipe line or throw a backyard party or tea afternoon for friends, think of a business, hold a workshop for kids, gather friends to a dance hall each weekend – do these with the thought that, at last, no one is there in the shadows watching your every move, controlling your decisions, arguing your strategies, or getting jealous with people around you. Most importantly, do something that isn’t a disguised attack on your ex—ie don’t write a blog or record a song that you actually wrote hoping he/she’d read or hear it. Come on, let it go! SNAP OUT OF IT!

[5] BE BEAUTIFUL, just the way you are. Look at yourself in the mirror. Do you need to lose weight or gain weight, work up some muscles, cut your hair, fix your skin, buy new clothes? Be beautiful, be fit, be healthy. Bottomline, in whatever shape and situation you’re in, just be happy with yourself. It’s not Dr Phil or your bestfriend bar buddy or your patronizing neighbor or Jenny Craig or The Situation who’s gonna tell you you’re lovely or good-looking, it’s you. Life is cool, living is great—and love will be waiting for you somewhere out there. But don’t rush, build friendships, enjoy your moments. Be cool. Smile and say, “Oh yeah!” Live good, love good—and eat only good food.

Monday, May 2, 2011

THINGS TO DO when your internet connect—and Facebook, Twitter, all e-baubles—falter or conk out…

[1] It’s okay, things will be fine… TAKE A DEEP 20-SECOND BREATH, and heave—ahhhh!!! And then, think of all the good stuff and things there were before we all willingly—albeit entrancingly—severed our umbilical cord from life and living’s pristineness. Those days of yore when smoke signals were text messages, drumming or banjo pickings were ringtones, roosters’ sweet barkings were digital alarm clocks, and human yells across hills or over picket fences were Blackberry calls… Those days when social networking was a rollickin’ banter at Mr Robinson’s barber shop or at a basketball court in the `hood or at the Saturday evening benefit dance at the town plaza. Yes, things will be fine—hold that scream and drink Diet Mountain Dew. This is not the end of the world.
[2] There is a place called PUBLIC LIBRARY, you know that? Do you have a lib card? Yes, I know—most likely, you’d be queued with grizzly-bearded, homeless looking AA denizens, and you’re only allowed an hour per usage of public computers, and—okay now, there’s no porno surfing or YoVille games here… But this would also usher you around shelves and shelves of good books to read. Browse around, check out newspapers, Sports Illustrated, Atlantic Monthly, or Utne Reader—these are awesome reads, you know what I’m sayin’? You may even love the place! And totally quit the Net. You know what I’m saying?

[3] DANCE a chicken dance, run around your `hood a-la Rocky or Manny Pacquiao, with Bill Conti’s “Gonna Fly Now” on your headgear—sweat it out. You can do it… While running, say this mantra: “My internet will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon, will be back soon…” If that doesn’t work—uhh, well. Recheck your last cable bill or account statement. Maybe you haven’t paid yet obligations yet? Figure it out.

[4] What’s the point with staring at your laptop’s lifeless black and blue screen—when it’s not reacting at all? Do something. COOK! A lot of foul Friday night moods, hormonal imbalance, or just plain bitchiness are cured by an awesome, super-delicious dinner. So don’t sulk over a Facebook password that has been “compromised” (aka hacked) or an iPhone that isn’t part of mom’s monthly budget streamlining program anymore. Whip out that wok and attack the kitchen!

[5] MEDITATE… Close your eyes, slide to a lotus or crane posture – or praying mantis or brooding pterodactyl position, whatever fits you—and say: “Jai guru deva om… baba nam kevalam… praise The Lord, hallelujah!” Whatever suits you. Better be, go to church, temple, or kirtan convergence—and feel the communal vibe, the enlightening wavelength, crush all your hedonistic/self-aggrandizing paradigms with the immaculate sentience of life and love’s ethereal bliss, whatever rocks you, my friend. Voila! When you open your eyes, you may as well be a new lump of glorious atomic chakra. You may just say, in a super-low, meek and ahimsaic voice: “Ahh, what do you mean, laptop? Facebook, Twitter? I don’t see them in my plane of being… I am The One in me, the universal entity… jai guru deva om. Where is my hummus dinner?”

[6] Sweet, glorious animals—especially BABEDAWGS and KOOLCATS—are awesome companions, especially when you’re about to crack up by virtue of your stunning internet withdrawal. Unlike human beings, babedawgs/koolcats don’t really bark back at you when you start bitchin’ and cussin’ and all that messed up state of (in)sanity. They just stare back at you and may even interpret your bizarre actuations as an invite to play catch ball or frisbee. After awhile, you’d probably tell yourself: “Ah, look at these animals. They don’t need an email address or Facebook account to live or enjoy life, they are cool… I wish I am a babedawg myself… woof!”

[7] Engage in a CONVERSATION with any sensible/sensitive human. This, of course, is a temporary solution that applies only to those who don’t have health insurance for a shrink appointment or don’t have babedawgs and koolcats to chat with… A conversation may turn out to be really creative and productive, and maybe—just maybe—your conversation partner may be able to loan you a few bucks so you could finally pay your cable connect… right?

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

TEN WAYS that you could try to have a fighting chance near a man’s heart… (not necessarily in order)

[1] DON’T IMPRESS him with your new butt tattoo or wonder bra enhanced cleavage. Most likely you’ll catch his attention but not his long-term interest. Yes, some dudes are kinda old-fashioned swains and not really moved by too much show of skin or display of flesh… Let his imagination flow—that is sexy.

[2] Talk to him, draw out his emotion, SQUEEZE HIS HEART OUT. Most men find it painstaking—even mushy or “not-too-masculine”—to let go off innermost emotions and sentiments. What they usually prefer blabbering about are sports, some politics, how cool they really are, and how hot the lady who just walked in is… But that doesn’t mean they are all that “superficial.” Mostly, it just takes some patience to heat them up. All those macho talk that he’s into, those are just facades.

[3] KISS, don’t jump to the “other” calisthenics of sexual positions. Most men also want to look in the eyes of the woman he’s kissing. If you could get him to kiss you longer than he rushes for the jugular (you know, strip naked…) then he’s the kind of man who could probably give/receive love than some dude who just lusts for your body.

[4] Let him have his “MAN THING” toys, hobbies etc—if it doesn’t really hurt that much. Make him feel that despite him getting married or “snagged,” he doesn’t need to give up some of the little frivolous stuff that he does. I mean, if you could spare some time and dough on tanning machine visits and a few additional workout gadgets downstairs, why can’t he play some golf sometimes or collect some Transformers robots (oh yeah, they do that) and Ken dolls, uhhh.

[5] DON’T NAG. Witch-hunting is a no-no. Most men don’t like to feel like they’re in a boot camp or training facility or inquisition trial. Don’t anticipate mistakes or faults. If you love him, let him feel that he can consistently, perpetually change for the better… Love makes both become better individuals. Inspire and motivate.

[6] Be the gentle, HOUSE-CONSCIOUS woman—without being the housekeeper. When you go to the store, try to buy kitchen implements—it’s not that you are the cook, maybe he’s the cook, and say, “Hey, sweetheart—I didn’t buy that new Revlon because I saw this cool Emeril wok, and I know you like this… and I bought a dozen Sunburst dish detergents, too…” I know of some women who don’t even know how to cook/prepare an omelet, but it doesn’t matter—he will cook as long as he feels he’s cooking for both of you.

[7] Don’t buy his GUILTY PLEASURE beers. But don’t prevent him either… just let him decide. Don’t condone his vices but don’t make him feel so bad either when he does. They key is moderation, subtlety. It’s all in the dynamics of a relationship…

[8] MAKE LOVE, NOT WAR. A lot of beautifully-spontaneous night of sweetness, sensitivity, and sensuality (aka SEX), have been snuffed out by little, irksome bitchiness. This actually happened—GF (girlfriend): “You are giving me these red roses, and 12 roses at that?!” / BF (boyfriend): “Yes… what’s wrong?” / GF: “You are insensitive! You just contributed to the murder and commercialization of plants, they are also living things, you know—just like us!!!” Sexual intimacy… keep the it low, quiet, dim-lit. Don’t start a political rant how Hallmark sucked, or condoms must be organic, or “Did you just bought wine at Wal-mart???” Come on… hold, touch, cuddle, kiss—linger, explore, navigate. Just shut your pie hole, and strip each other naked—to a Kenny G CD… wwhat???

[9] After a few weeks of seeing each other, dinners, and sleepovers (oh, it’s the modern era, okay?) it should be time to talk about WHAT IT’S ALL ABOUT. Some men evade this kinda “serious” talk, especially when they’re not really into commitments. But some men want to hear what you think or feel, as well… Are you just having fun with sex thrown in, or you mutually plan to take this interaction/connection to another higher/deeper level?

[10] Go with him to the bar, try to GET INVOLVED with what he’s doing, too. Don’t always nag as in: “You are in that pool hall because there’s so many hot girls there!” Instead try to be with him, play with him etc. At the same time, can’t he also join you wherever you want chill, as well? While you two do the laundry together, or go contra-dancing, you may also join hands in pursuing community projects.

--Pasckie The Dude

Friday, February 18, 2011

TEN MOST ANNOYING STUFF & THINGS THAT WE ENCOUNTER IN A PUBLIC PLACE…

[1] CELLPHONE TALKERS in groceries. I simply don’t understand why earthlings engage on freewheeling banters in enclosed public places (“Hey, I just bought a really inexpensive leather boots at Macy’s. It’s like, only $357—how awesomest is that?!” “Oh really, so did she break up with him. Oh my God, so he didn’t know what a wheelbarrow maneuver is?!? Turn off!!” “What, honey? Koolwhip? Do we need that???”).

[2] MOTORISTS who impatiently HONK HORNS on slight provocation. This is really silly. They think it’s macho. I seldom see a motorist who could excise 3 seconds of wait behind another vehicle at a go signal. What’s the problem, people? A lot of these impatience result in road rage. As early as 1997, therapists were working to certify road rage as a medical condition. It is already an official mental disorder in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders
. According to an article published by the Associated Press the behaviors typically associated with road rage are the result of intermittent explosive disorder. This conclusion was drawn from surveys of some 9,200 adults in the United States between 2001 and 2003 and was funded by the National Institute of Mental Health.

[3] MOTORISTS who SCREECH tires. If they are not gangbangers, they’re homeys of Item #1: Desperado attention-grabbers. What’s the point? Angry with the road or just angry with being angry?

[4] RUDE FOOD SERVERS/waiters/waitresses. Let’s admit it. We tip really good if the server smiles like Meg Ryan, courteous like the Geico gecko, fast and efficient like Speedy Gonzales, and attentive like an erring kid who just broke the peanut butter bottle. But if your waitress/waiter pouts like a Donald Trump with a pair of Nancy Grace eyebrows, rude like a toll gate attendant with PMS, slow and clueless like a slug on hangover—don’t ever tip, even if you were dining in a New York City restaurant (where tipping is kinda obligatory, what is that?!)

[5] COUPLES MAKIN’ OUT or FIGHTING big time in public. Whatever they’re doing – swapping icky remnants of their last meal off their mouths or arguing over unpaid Netflix bills, this obnoxious and disrespectful actuation is just unacceptable, man! (that’s Cyd ranting.) Go get a room!!!

[6] HOLIER THAN THOU TV talk show hosts. Probably, it’s about subtlety and handling. But most of these talk show hosts reek with narcissism and BS. Many times they proclaim that they are just channeling the people/public’s heartbeat. I don’t think so—most of them have their partisan or commercial agenda. Why can’t they stay on the middle and just let the public speak? Their job is to preside or traffic or initiate public opinion, NOT promote and push their own opinion.

[7] NEIGHBORS who INCESSANTLY COMPLAIN of dogs barking five times. Dogs bark because they don’t talk like humans. So “barking” in babedawg language isn’t the same as we humans define the word. I don’t understand why we are so obsessed with pets but are so sensitive and touchy and upset when they start acting like animals. What if animals plug our mouths when we start yapping around like Glen Beck, would you like it? Just imagine how irritated they are when people argue so loudly…

[8] SUPER-LOUD, SUPER-ANGRY ACTIVISTS and religious bigots who judge and measure people from head to toe back and forth, up and down. There’s a thin line between advocating a cause and judging reality—so I am also working out ways to fight this obnoxious demon on my back. It’s impossible to convince and persuade people about a certain truth while we brandish a fire-spewing mouth. It burns. It’s more effective to appeal to the people’s collective heart and spirit if we do it benignly, anchored on peace and quiet.

[9] People who keep on TALKING (or yapping about) in CAFES (or venues) while a show is going on. I organize/produce shows and gigs—and also perform—so I am so sensitive and touchy about people not paying attention or simply don’t care (that there are artists onstage sharing some good stuff). The most that they could do is, as RuPaul hisses, “Please, sashay away… bitch!”

[10] DRINKERS who couldn’t keep still after 5 beers. The smoothest earthling (who drinks) is one who could still play it cool after 7 beers, can you do that? It’s a major turnoff to find drinkers who believe they should be understood or tolerated for a nasty girth just because they are drunk…

by Pasckie The Dude

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

SEVEN LINES that somehow confuse me…

YOU MIGHT think I’m talkin’ smack here, but I am stating facts or truths (at least, in regards weird conjectures and sweet fumbles that define my perpetually evolving great American “railway bazaar” journey). Believe it or not, when I am greeted with, “How are you doin’?” on the street (by strangers or acquaintances), I still response with a courteous, detailed accounting of what I’m actually doing at that time (“Oh well, I woke up at 6:17 this morning, had free-trade coffee, read NY Times, checked my Facebook for an hour, 17 minutes, and 35 seconds. Then, I sat down and pondered, what’s wrong with Katy Perry marryin’ this dude?… then, realized I needed to call my sister!”) Or whenever I stammer my silly island jokes and I get, “Get outta here…” I still meekly scoot out of the room… and feel so offended. The following, I purposely singled out those lines with kind of sexual connotations or subtext/s, or tell me…

[1] Let’s hang out and PLAY.
The catchword is “play.” But then, I can never tell what “play” actually meant… There were times when I stayed over in some of my female friends’ houses, had dinner, and played lots of scrabble and monopoly, till we dropped exhausted (after two glasses of red wine). In those instances, I slept on the couch almost automatically… and then, at the breakfast table, I am asked, “Don’t you like me?” So I meekly respond, “Of course, I like you!” (One time I was invited to do some gardening and “if it’s okay to play” with the water hose… uhh.)

[2] I REALLY like you!
What was supposedly a simple, uncomplicated, non-suggestive complimentary remark in a galaxy so far away—becomes a confusing invite and/or straightforward statement here. But I am not really sure, I can never be sure… are you? But then, it seems it’s a more honest come-on that an “I love you,” in most cases.

[3] You wanna STAY the night?
I never thought “staying” means sleeping in her bed. And “sleeping together” means sex. One time, I took a long overnight Greyhound trip to Adirondacks NY from Atlantic City—with a lady friend. Later, I was asked by friends what did you we do while on the night trip. I said, “We talked and slept together.” We did sleep together, shoulder to shoulder—and woke up together, as well. You know, what I mean…

[4] No strings attached but let’s be EXCLUSIVE with each other.
Apparently, we people don’t like to be in “formal/official” relationship trappings, right? Like, we don’t want jealousies, insecurities, arguments etc—all those corny boyfriend-girlfriend confections. Right? But we need to be sexually intimate when we need it… but then, we can be either jealous he/she might be screwing others or scared of catching STDs. So we say, “Let’s just sleep with each other, okay? But, remember, we are just friends… Do your thing and I do my thing.” Friends with (sexual) benefits, uh-huh.

[5] NOTHING SERIOUS, just havin’ fun.
So play the field… call me when you get “lonely,” let’s watch a movie, maybe cook together? Just having fun. Have sex, take it easy… just having fun. When it gets serious, fun over. Next!

[6] I LOVE YOU but I am not in love with you.
Why say, I love you, in the first place—if there’s such difference between “loving” and “in love with”? Or when it’s over—why can’t people just say, “I don’t love you anymore”? I think, when he/she just loves you and not “in love” with you—that’d mean, you’ve just become a DiGiorno pizza or Kings of Leon CD. God, I love that mozzarella! Oh yes, I so love Caleb Followill!

[7] Let’s HOOK UP.
Nah, I am not going to say it. At all!!!

--by Pasckie The Dude