Monthly Archives: June 2013

What Happens After ‘Happily Ever After’? Part 1

I’ve been gifted–or probably cursed–with an incredibly wild imagination, it’s terrifying.

It really bothered me when I realized that I spend too much time creating a world beyond fantasies than actually living reality as I see it. I thought that I might have gone insane due to the amount of stories I can come up in my head. My tendency to drift from one idea to another is very disturbing bordering on pathological. I can never escape my cinematic views of things happening around me–I don’t think I can? I don’t think I want to. Because my thoughts are happy and blissful and perfect. And I’m a true romantic, I live for happy endings.

But life happens.

It’s absolutely inspiring and admirable when a person lands the moment when everything falls into place, when everything feels right, when everything makes sense. What we, poor and hopeless dreamers swimming in mud of doubt, fear and indecisiveness, don’t know—or rather ignore—is what happens after that nirvana-like phase. It seems that after we hear the happy ending, we don’t seek what goes beyond it. I can’t help but wonder, since I’m still suffering the bitching quarter-life crisis and being the lonely, single girl in her twenty-something, what comes after you’ve found happiness?

On Love

My friend and I were at a birthday dinner, and ever so thanklessly, I’m the only single-girl in the group. I’ve been to different countries and have met amazing people (who were all or have been in relationships, by the way); when the relationship-talk begins, I feel so unhinged, I can just leave and nobody will notice. I can’t even begin to explain how that feeling–for lack of a better description–terribly sucks.

It’s not because I’m jealous that I’m not in a relationship. I’ve seen my friends fall and break due to premature relationships that were plagued with bickering, disrespect, tears, self-pity and hatred to get myself into yet another messy circumstance. I’m, in fact, in the middle of figuring my life out and relationship-complications are the last thing I need. I’m feeling a little bitter because of my nasty habit of comparing myself with the people around me and what they have that I don’t.

Anyway back to the birthday dinner, the conversation suddenly morphed into marriage and kids—which, by definition, made me uncomfortable. I sighed audibly and looked away toward the Mekong River concealed in the darkness, my friend nonchalantly quipped,

“You are too serious. Just have a boyfriend, don’t think about forever.”

Which, I think, is a very good point considering the shelf-life of relationships nowadays. Bbbbut no, I just had to speak up and wave the vulnerable flag to the rest of the Dating World.

“I don’t want just a boyfriend, I want a real relationship, someone I’d spend my life with—and finally be happy.” I argued.

My friend shrugged. “You think that once you get into a relationship, it’s always happy?”

Damn. I thought.

Whenever my imagination runs wild and I think about the greatest love stories my mind can conjure, the all-too-giddy and exhilarating feeling of being in love only lasts after my gorgeous and intelligent leading man says those three words. Then the screen blacks out, credits roll-in and I’m transported back to my school backlog.

Even if I try to think of a scenario after the cheesy-confession that leaves me gushing and cringing at the same time, the romantic feel goes away without even trying. And I am scared as hell that it just might be damn close to the real thing.

While I have no interest in divulging the gory details of my non-existent dating life because of the obvious variability of it all, I could tell you that the relationships I know are shaped from romantic comedies and chic literature I’ve indulged myself all these years, therefore aggravating my perverted view of happy endings. Even after all the crashes and burn I’ve seen and heard, I still believe in meeting that one true love. Stranger things have happened–a happy and healthy relationship shouldn’t be an exception.

I have no idea if I’m ever going to find out what it’d be like–relationships, I mean. I guess, this is the reason why I’m still looking forward to happy endings. Maybe, just maybe, there’s also a person searching for me. He just doesn’t know it yet.

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“Gap Month” Part 2

30 Days Earlier

I cannot believe I just graduated. Again. The sheer pleasure of earning my Master’s degree is creeping in my veins like vodka shots after another and then some. I can’t wait to board my flight to Vientiane and meet-up with my good friends, devour Lao cuisine I missed so dearly, check-out the new places that were built–or finished–since I left, and rest. Finally, clear my head.

Vientiane is my second home; after all, it is where I started as a professional and the opportunities that came along with the whole experience. It is where I started blogging, ventured into photography and travel writing, served as expat, among other things that turned my life around in four years. I looked forward to this trip ever since my Mother broached the subject of tagging along with her–yet again–since I just graduated and she also felt I needed to rest even just a short while. When my name has been approved as a candidate for graduation, I was on my toes sending out my CV to prospective job posts. But then, I thought, the whole thing would be just as the same four years ago when I found myself working as an expat a week after my college grad. I had to make a choice. I needed change.

Stepping into Wattay International Airport feels like second-nature to me. No amount of uncertainty as to where I should go, how to hold polite conversations with the Immigration Police, fishing out our luggage from the carousel and booking a cab to our hotel. I spoke in my “get-by Lao” and was delighted that I can still talk as if I’m a local–at least with my mastered phrases and inflections.

Then the Month Went By Like A Tremendous Blur

Came Monday morning, my Mom got to work and my Dad, on his sabbatical, and I started with our respective ‘gap activities’. He’s writing and I was catching up on my reading and yes, soul-searching. It felt different experiencing Vientiane like I am a tourist as opposed to being part of the labor force. I was treading on a different world here, seeing Vientiane on a traveler’s lens. There was that element of peace and calmness in the air–characteristics known to tourists in Laos. I felt like all my worries and struggles in the past were melting together with the Mekong breeze. This is going to be an amazing month, I told myself.

Apart from weddings, parties, foodtrips and a long reading list I was able to fulfill, it was the soul-searching part that caught me off guard during the month. I busied myself with novels everyday, forgot a little that I am on a diet and ate whatever I felt like (only vegetarian, of course. Okay, not really), met up with my friends whom I dearly missed and above all, reflected on my next steps now that I am closing in to the legitimate age of adulthood. It’s crazy how worrying about absolutely nothing at all–after years of overthinking–can still drive one insane and restless to do something, hence force to focus on things that matter.

Now, I do have an idea what matters to me–and that is going after something real, something I created with every choice I made in the past. The only thing left to do is stand by it, hold on to it and fight for it. Whatever happens.

And before I knew it, I was packing again to go back to my hometown.

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“Gap Month” Part 1

gap year is time out to travel between life stages. It is also known as a sabbaticaltime offtime out and a year out, referring to a period of time (not necessarily 12 months) in which people disengage from curricular education and/or work and undertake activities such as traveling, volunteering or working abroad. –Wikipedia

What Now. While waiting for our academic procession.

What Now. While waiting for our academic procession.

I can’t do a gap year. Scratch that, I can’t afford to do a gap year–not only because of the money involved since I spent the last year in graduate school as a ‘full-time student’–but cos a year off worrying about absolutely nothing is just pure decadence, if you ask me. I could never have given up precious time to bolt off across the planet to ‘find myself’. It’s not my style, it’s not me. I’m the poster-child of a Girl-With-A-Plan. A career-woman developed during my teens, groomed to hold a ridiculously powerful position and married at 25. And I’m not even close to achieving both. So a vacation? Not a chance.

Present Day

I was already at the departure gate at 7 friggin 30 in the morning. This means I was already up at 5 packing my overnight bag because part of my ticket cost is accounted for an airport hotel, and then scrambling to my feet to catch the hotel taxi to the airport, then going straight to Immigration, and well, check-out the makeup counters for this season’s haul thereafter (don’t judge. I could have been a makeup artist. Could being the operative word).

A victim of early-morning flights, that’s me. Even if I do find a flight scheduled in the afternoon, living 60 km south of Manila also means I have to endure extra legwork to battle city traffic if I want to make it on-board. Okay, not me exactly, but the driver who’s been thanklessly tasked to do so. But I really don’t know what I did wrong in this lifetime to deserve flights that are powerful enough to turn a calm and smiley person to cranky and unpleasant by the time she has to buckle her seat-belt. In coach.

Becoming an expat at 19 was never on my To-Do List. But Life has its funny way of waving its magic wand but instead of fairy dust and happily-ever-afters, it throws a curve ball right in the gut. Case in point: A week into my fresh-college-graduate-elation, injected with mad doses of idealism and enthusiasm, I already started working in a different country.

Although Laos wasn’t exactly a new territory, the professional arena was. Dealing with my expat life did require a whole rigmarole of adjustment to culture, language, attitude and professional behavior. It seemed like I have to change my entire being in a matter of days. Moreover, as a fresh-grad, I felt that I had to impress my superiors and work harder than any other to prove that I was worthy of a position and that I deserve to get ahead of my contemporaries.

For four straight years, I juggled work, graduate studies, extra-curricular projects that include blogging, hanging out with my newfound friends, traveling for projects and wishing life away.  And then suddenly, as if on cue the curveball of Life sucker punches from nowhere–I fell off-balance halfway into my graduate program and found myself lost, disconcerted, flat and confused. In the First World, people might call it Quarter-life crisis? In the real world, it’s a bad case of miscalculated decisions. And uhh, ungratefulness.

I then decided to pursue my studies full-time, and hopefully, return to where I was years ago and retrace my steps. Maybe, just maybe, starting over would help me figure out where I went wrong and fix whatever it was before it’s too late.

I didn’t exactly put my career on-hold because of lack of passion and motivation. It was because I had too much of them that I forgot to establish important relationships in my life and to set realistic goals. Working straight and building my life around an abstract image of the life that I felt I wanted that time did a number on my self-esteem and the strong sense of belief that I can take on anything this world has to offer. I was very blessed to have served supportive superiors but I did go overboard on trying to grow up and get ahead just a tad too fast. I didn’t realize that doing so, I lost myself even before I knew and accepted her completely.

That’s what’s been happening ever since I started chasing dreams that didn’t really mean anything to me. They are only happy, perfect and beautiful once they’re created in my head. But they’re no visions. They are pretty impressions and interpretations of a reality that I didn’t appreciate. Of a reality I completely ignored because of my vivid and habitual act of zoning out to create a world I thought I wanted.

Until I did my gap month.

I smiled to myself reliving the past 30 days of my life starting with the night of that I earned my Master’s degree and closing it with a decision that, for once in my life, makes complete and perfect sense.

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