The Princess Chronicles

to my girlfriends who are not as lucky as cinderella (just yet), someday our princes will come…my own version of a modern cinderella fairytale…

in my younger years, (and i know most of you girls dreamt about this too!) i have always had a clear picture of what my prince charming should be. and, as i began to meet a lot of boys, i noticed that my list of characteristics shortened over time (decent, good-looking, tall, smells good, brainy, goal-oriented, virtuous, has a sense of humor and so on..) and i wondered, could there be a shortage of guys who are ala "prince charming" in this day and age?

i remember one of the articles i’ve read before stating that there is a ratio of 5 is to 1 females vis-a-vis males being born. can you just imagine a future where more girls are clamouring for one guy? no wonder the practice of polygamy is allowed in certain countries these days. worst scenario is when that one guy turns out to be gay. total rip off ain’t it? there goes our chance of ending up with our dream guy. even the chances of meeting him are getting pretty slim at this time. yet, i continue my search for this particular guy, meeting people from all walks of life, wherever, whenever..  with the hopes of finding my own prince charming.

for so long a time, our society greatly influenced women’s minds to think that the knight in shining armour in our lives are the ones who can ultimately make us happy and fulfilled. oh i know this may be a bit exaggerated but we have actually put men on a pedestal glorifying them and having certain expectations about them as well. don’t get me wrong, i am not a man hater nor am i a hardcore activist for women’s rights.

in fact, i love having men in my life. who doesn’t? men are great friends, good listeners and companions when all your girlfriends seem to be busy with their own lives. sometimes when i think about it, one does not really need to be in a relationship with men to understand men. they have their own imperfections. they cry too and sometimes they are even more vain than us when it comes to the latest hairstyle, clothing and other times they are more updated in biz stuff. they also complain or whine on occasion about the most trivial stuff. to cut it short, men are flawed human beings just like us women.

but then again we have to admit the fact that most of us are still like cinderella, only this time in a micro-mini skirt or a power suit waiting for the perfect guy–the prince charming who’s going to sweep you off your feet. sorry but for some, the prince might be coming a little bit late because he might be stuck in traffic, too lazy to get up and sometimes too arrogant to ask for directions (i know, reality really sucks!). i guess what i’m really trying to say is that women these days should enjoy being single (like me…single and fabulous!) the modern cinderella does not depend on men for her happiness, and she is open to meeting a lot of flawed princes for that matter. instead of sulking why your girlfriends seem very much inlove and contented with her oh so perfect prince. we should be having the time of our lives.

well, shouldn’t we? after all, we only get to live once. we might as well enjoy it while it lasts. i know i do. so what if you didn’t get your happy ending? at least you can put it in your long list of experiences that teaches you a thing or two about living and loving. someday, somewhere is a prince for each one of us or maybe not but it doesn’t matter, what matters is how you lived your life. don’t dwell on being loveless and heartbroken. don’t waste your time waiting for that magical moment when finally your prince charming will wake you from a very long slumber. believe me, our knights in shining armour… it’s hidden somewhere inside of us… we just have to learn how to set it free.

i am re-posting this entry, by popular demand (of my girlfriends, of course) love yah! enjoy!

        finally advertising gets it right. commercials here in the philippines advocate that attractiveness is next to happiness… that being whiter makes you want-able, that having long straight hair is to die for … that slim is everything! filipinos are not even naturally white (our skins don’t have the same pigments as the americans unless you mutate them using bleaching creams and the likes) or unless you’re lucky ’cause your genes spell fair complexion (but never paper white, like the ones we see in the ads), they don’t have straight hair (ok i am a victim! haha), and filipinas are naturally curvy so on… it’s time to stop the craze.. real beauty is not about being ageless, being skinny, being white and flawless, having big bumpers, having long and straight hair… blablablah and all that jazz. to those people who think otherwise… TOUCHE, BABY! (click on the link to see the campaign for real beauty)

now why can’t we do that here?

        i am getting stale at carrying on conversations with some people, and it’s not because i’m shy. (at times i do need to adjust, but that’s not what i’m intending to drive at in this post.)

        my interests are quite diverse and extensive, but they’re just a tad too different from those of people in my age bracket, especially. it’s exasperating that sometimes people think i’m quiet, introverted, or plain dumb, perhaps, just because i don’t engage in discussions on videogames, who’s hot, who’s not at the moment, been here, done that tête-à-têtes, and “i am currently so tired of my life now — lets talk about this particular girl in class and by all means ruin the dream-like life that she’s having” feats. i do know many things — things that actually require neuron work. i practically shrivel in and perish of boredom whenever people around me feel like being profound for a few moments and discuss the scintillating drama of their young, free-spirited (and occasionally convoluted) love lives; existent and non-existent. oh puhleazze.

this could actually work better when you have Kiss (by prince) on the background, only this time it’s gwen stefani’s, alicia keys’ and missy elliot’s version of it…

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        they’re called momentary seventh heaven. well, okay: I call them my very own seventh heaven. they’re the ones that happen when two people who have never kissed each other before kiss for the first time—slow, short and sweet– part for a heartbeat and, before you can even say, "what the f*ck are you doing breaking the kiss??!!", they kiss again– long, still sweet, but not-so-soft this time around..

        i swear to God, that’s how kisses should always be.

        i feel like seventh heaven-ish; when our arms graze each other, when you lightly, playfully touch my back, when i dare touch yours, when you look at me like you don’t know, when you don’t look at me at all….. it’s not anything if not primarily electric, magnetic, dizzying, breathtaking, overwhelming and all other ic’s and ing’s you can think of when you think of how close a distance i always pull myself back from when i almost always feel like going for the second moment kiss that just never had a first. it’s beautiful, delectable, stirring and stupefying at the same time. it’s my own version of paradise, perpetual bliss, over the moon and at the top of the world moment- like tasting chocolate for the first time. it’s a moment of perfect contentment, a moment like no other. It just gets me singing:

“It’s the way you love me
It’s a feeling like this
It’s centrifugal motion
It’s perpetual bliss
It’s that pivotal moment
It’s (ah) impossible
This kiss, this kiss.. unstoppable..
This kiss, this kiss”

……..it’s not a mystery, but it’s fascinating… it’s not even paced, but still very much exhilarating.

once in a while i catch a glimpse of this girl, small brown eyes, long dark hair over an almost ivory colored face, wide smile, pouty lips, straight teeth—and i do a double-take; “she’s pretty!” i stopped to think, to my surprise i realize that she’s me. i’m beautiful not because people have told me i am. i have been told i’m pretty, more than a handful of times — i used to rely on that. but i wasn’t beautiful then, i was a basketcase. i allowed myself to be defined by others.

i’m beautiful now because i’ve stopped obsessing. i go out sometimes without the bobbi brown warm ivory concealer, mac bronzing stick and grapefruit prescriptives lipstick that i used to feel ugly without. i dance naked by myself while looking in the mirror — without makeup, clothes, and worries. well, once in a while the insecurities still pop up. and i still do love makeup and clothes. but i know that spending time with those who love me, and my cockatiels, add up to a lot more than worrying about the way i look and what other people think of me.

once in a while i hear my own laugh, or my voice when i’m saying something important or singing my heart out in the shower … and once in a while my heart leaps up and explodes with pain, with happiness, with anger — and i know that i’m human, capable of committing mistakes and i know i am never going to be perfect no matter how many bobbi browns, shu uemuras, shiseidos and macs i own, how fascinating my diet schemes are, how long and straight my hair looks and how expensive my dangles and clothes are. what truly defines me are my imperfections, i have learned to embrace them as a part of who i really am– and that’s what’s really beautiful. i’m real.