Weeks ago, I was blown away by a Friendster survey answered by one of my classmates. The question was, "What is your greatest achievement?" And she answered (I think without batting an eyelash), "Orgasm," followed by Hahaha. Oh...Okay. Good answer, it felt like coffee to my brain. After reading the survey, I was tempted to answer it. There was a question regarding one's stand on Friends With Benefits and here's what I've wrote:
Friends With Benefits? As in FWB - Fuck With Benefits.
My whole month of April has been plagued by relationship issues. I think that's the aftermath of turning 23. A number of questions have been raised. "Do you have a boyfriend?" "Why are you not dating?" "Are you even attracted to guys?" If I hear one more question regarding my civil status, I will scream. I don't know why people give a damn on other people's lives when they don't even know what to do with their own.
Maybe it's my generation's fault. Most people my age are getting married, hooking up, sleeping over, making babies, breaking up or *Brooke-ing themselves. And I don't know why the hell they expect me to be one of them.
I guess people who asked me the above questions were just concerned that if I do not act now, I will later find it hard to conceive. Yeah, I know that people my age are freakingly packed with libido and they don't need to remind me that. Oh yes, I'm straight and I'm attracted to McDreamy. I know what I want. Now go Brooke yourselves, and leave me in peace.
Just when I thought that the question and answer portion was over, they went on declaring that if the world is gonna end tomorrow, I'm gonna die a virgin. Virgins go to heaven right? I hope so, because I'm already sick of hell.
I'm blessed with two great friends, let's just call them Demi and Cameron. Yes, they are cradlesnatchers.
Help police, help. Cradlesnatchers, cradlesnatchers!
Oh, knock it off.
They say that if you can't get a guy your age, then go for the younger batch. They say that boys are sweeter than men. Does that sound matronly? Heck, with this salary like ours, we can't really afford to buy boytoys at the mall. Bleak. Anyway, the cradlesnatching approach did not end well for my two friends, so I better not dare to try it out.
My aunt was worried that I'm still unattached at the age of 23 and she said...
Aunt: Anak may irereto ako sa iyo, mabait, mayaman...
Me: ...at madali ba siyang mamamatay, ilang taon na siya?
Aunt: Fifty.
Whoa. What was that all about? I'm not after Golden Boys. I don't need a sugar daddy. I don't think a May-December love affair would work on me. And I'm not a golddigger.
I'm 23 years old, single and available, but not girlfriend material. I have my own weird world and guys don't find it sexy. Aside from worrying of not finding "the one," I am more scared of not getting out of this "relationship." You don't know how many times the old pimp have bruised my ego and you don't know how long I suffered from intellectual constipation. And most of the time, I always found myself singing to the tune of Radiohead's Creep.
But I'm a creep, I'm a weirdo. What the hell am I doin' here?I don't belong here.
Rewind to 2005, life's a bitch when you're a fresh grad and you've got nowhere else to go. I could sing Creep until my lungs give up, but I realized that no matter how many times I complain, it still doesn't change the fact that this is my job and I have to fuck it. That sounded like prostitution, erase the F word. I'm being paid to get this job done. I have no choice but to make peace with it because I signed something that resembles a marriage contract (in other words I made a pact with the devil to save myself from poverty). Get the job done like you mean it. Fuck it like it's hot. If you can't do the job out of love, lust or whatever L word you have in mind, just do it out of obligation. Or...you can always file for divorce, I mean resignation, if you can't take it anymore. Now, that's what I call fucking with benefits. Ooops, are there any benefits?
I'm not forcing you to believe what I say. I just hope that the day won't come when I'm gonna be the one who will tell you this, "I told you so!"
Was that Larry Birkhead?
*Brooke yourself - from Brooke Davis of One Tree Hill, it means self-stimulation.
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1 comment:
Hi, Jel. Still the same old nasty blogger, eh?hehe.
I agree with you - why in the world is it such a big deal to have a boylet at this age? They don't know that if they're nagging us to get a guy, we're also wishing on that same thing too.
Why don't we just advertise ourselves? Zafra once advertised herself. In other words, "ibugaw" ang sarili. hehe.
Nah. That's stooping so low. We're goddesses. The gods haven't found us yet. Lol. ;)
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