Chasing Stars

For the full short story, go to: http://www.strangehorizons.com/2003/20030106/estrellas.shtml

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Dean Francis Alfar’s short story “L’Aquilone du Estrellas (The Kite of Stars)” is an amazing tale of unrequited, one-way love. (SPOILER ALERT: Read the full story first if you don’t want to read the spoilers below. Because I’ve quoted in italics all my favorite passages from the story.)

The story is about Maria Isabella du’l Cielo falling for a stargazing young man. When told that he only has eyes for stars, she thought of a plan for him to notice her. She approached master builder Melchor Antevadez with a strange request.

“What I need,” she began, “is a kite large enough to strap me onto. Then I must fly high enough to be among the stars themselves, so that anyone looking at the stars will see me among them, and I must be able to wave at least one hand to that person.”

“What you need,” Melchor Antevadez replied with a smile, “is a balloon. Or someone else to love.”

She ignored him like most love-struck fools do, and insisted on a kite. Finally the master builder gave her a list of materials he needed; to complete the list would take sixty years. She accepted the task without hesitation.

Melchor Antevadez squinted at her. “Is any love worth all this effort? Looking for the impossible?”

Maria Isabella gave the tiniest of smiles. “What makes you think I’m in love?”

Melchor Antevadez raised an eyebrow at her denial.

What makes this story extra melancholic is that Maria Isabella hired a 14-yr. old butcher boy to accompany her in her task. After sixty years they came back with all the materials; the great grandson of the master builder had taken over from his late great grandfather’s shop. When Maria Isabelle was being strapped onto the kite, she tells the butcher boy (who had grown into an old man already), “This is certainly no time for tears,” Maria Isabella reprimanded him gently, as she gestured for him to release the kite.

And she never realized that the butcher boy had loved her all this time.

As she rose, he sighed and reflected on the absurdity of life, the heaviness of loss, the cruelty of hope, the truth about quests, and the relentless nature of a love that knew only one direction.

I wish I had read Dean Francis Alfar’s “L’Aquilone du Estrellas (The Kite of Stars)” when I was younger; it would have saved me a few years lost in stupidity.

Patience And Memory

“What is patience? It’s 86 missed calls just so that on the 87th, D will wake up and not be late for work.”

Even as I was typing it, I could already anticipate the responses for that Facebook status and tweet: “That’s so sweet!” And true enough, I did get those on Twitter. On Facebook they were able to write longer comments. But what I really just wanted to point out was how surprised I was that I reached 86 missed calls.

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D knew that if he relied only on the alarm in his phone, he’d continue sleeping; that’s how deep his sleep usually is. Thus his need for me to be his alarm clock.

One time it took me more than an hour to wake him up. Afterwards I told him how stressful it was for me since I personally felt responsible for waking him up. We eventually agreed that D would supplement my call with an alarm clock; meanwhile, I promised I will not stress myself out if D took long in waking up.

Because D is on the night shift, I’d end up trying to wake him up while I’m driving home from work. I’ve turned this task into something advantageous for me. The drive home is already tedious due to heavy traffic; this task keeps me preoccupied. I’d use an earphone so I can put the phone down (handsfree!); thanks to redial, I found it much easier to call him up with just a press of a button. (Still, hitting an all-time high of 86 missed calls was something I never expected.)

Someone reacted, “I’d have muttered ‘bahala ka sa buhay mo’ after missed call #3 or #4.” I did think that a couple of times in the beginning, especially after going past the 10th call. But I could never get myself to just drop it.

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In our opening ice breaker exercise during our planning session last Wednesday in Tagaytay, we were asked to say 5 things about ourselves that is not so well-known in the office. Without thinking much, I blurted out that: [1] I have a 21-yr old boyfriend; [2] who’s my very first, and I, his; [3] that we’re celebrating our 14th monthsary on that very day; [4] and I already texted him but he hasn’t replied yet; [5] because he’s most probably asleep, since he works nights as a call boy. In a call center. LOL. It was the first time I announced it so publicly and to such a big group. They all cheered and clapped. I think I was squirming with inner delight.

Afterwards I proudly texted D about it. Last night he corrected me: “Hon, ano ba?! 16 months na tayo!” Oh no, senior moment.

I may be his alarm clock, but he’ll be our almanac.

Are You Open To It?

An open relationship is not for everybody. Both parties should be able to handle the fact that their partner hooks up with other guys. Not everyone is capable of separating sex as just a physical act versus sex as a physical expression of the love between two people.

It doesn’t mean that persons who can handle open relationships are better or more mature. It just means they have a different point of view or a different set of values from those who cannot imagine sharing their partners with others. This is also true vice versa.

So to those monogamists who feel sorry for the ones who are in open relationships, don’t. I’m sure those “sluts” are having just as much fun and satisfaction as those “prudes,” albeit in different ways. To eat his own; err, to each his own.

The Prude Fabcast, Part One

After our “Departures Fabcast” (aka “Pigsa In The Perineum”), we focused on our special guest, Paul aka Iamtofuboy.

I first met him online; I follow him on Twitter and we’re friends on Facebook. He had said before that he has always wanted to meet the Fabcasters and to take part in a Fabcast recording.

So when Migs and Gibbs co-celebrated their birthdays, I invited Paul to the party. There he met CC, Tony and other members of the peanut gallery. During the course of the night, he actually mentioned to me and CC that he was a prude, and he viewed it as some sort of “problem” for him. So we thought, hey, that can be the topic for the next Fabcast.

So now here’s the first of a three-part discussion. Because this was recorded on the same night as the “Departures Fabcast,” don’t be surprised if our running gag for the night continues on the following episodes!

Download this fabcast (right click and save)

Music credits:
“Ooh La La” by The Wiseguys
“Like A Virgin (Live)” by Madonna
“Sho Nuff” by Fatboy Slim
“Why’s It So Hard” by Madonna

Kirk Versus Bane

You have Chris Pine, who was such a hottie as Kirk in the Star Trek reboot. Then you have Tom Hardy, who sizzled and stole all his scenes in Inception. For me, it’s a nosebleed movie! Even Reese Witherspoon, who I find an excellent actress who’s easy on the eyes, is suddenly relegated to the background, along with Chelsea Handler and all those explosions.

If I had my way, Chris and Tom would dump Reese and just get it on with each other.

Lessons In Love

What I have learned from being single for 44 years.

Romance is over-rated. 

Love comes in several forms, like love of country, love of friends or even love of self. But the most popular form, and the one that fuels the entertainment industry, is romantic love. I bet romantic love is responsible for more than half of the output of the entertainment industries.

Romance is very charming and quite addicting; I suspect the same tingling sensations of the nerves and that rush to the brain that one experiences when one is on a drug-induced high are the same ones experienced when one is madly in love. (Romantic) love is insane.

However, romance’s giddy high can never really be sustained for long. Even the body adjusts to a drug’s potency, and soon one’s regular dosage is not enough for a hard-core drug user. But why the persistent popularity of romance? Because it is the most high-inducing state. Because it lends itself well to plots and cliffhangers and happy-ever-afters. Because romance is all about the hopeful beginning. Rarely does romance tackle the nitty-gritty middle; all the more they would want to avoid the emo-inducing end (unless it is but a step towards a new romance).

After the easy, cheesy beginning does the real work of love begin.

Love needs to be redefined.

Often the younger ones would define love as a feeling: “I am in love.” Sometimes they would go philosophical and claim that love is a state of being. Being what? Being in love, which is just another way of describing one’s emotional state.

But here’s something I realized: More than just an emotion, love is a choice. Because feelings, no matter how strong they are at the start, do wane and evolve. What happens after one loses that lovin’ feeling? If love was just an emotional state, many marriages wouldn’t have survived for so long.

I believe that love is a combination of feeling and of choice. The two compliment one another, like the way nature and nurture seem to be inexplicably linked as the causes of homosexuality. Without the initial feeling (“I’m in love!”), there will be no initial interest. But during the times when emotions wane, or the relationship encounters stormy waters, then the choice of loving a person will hopefully keep the relationship going until the storm passes.

Love is outward-directed.

So many times I hear the following: “I’m gonna make you love me.” “I want him, and I will do anything to get and keep him.” “He’s the one for me.” “Why didn’t he choose me? Why did he go for that fugly guy instead of me? I’m so much better for him!”

In all of those sentences the speaker is considering only what he likes. But love isn’t selfish. Love takes the Other into consideration. If there is no reciprocation, why stay and try to force something? There are plenty fish in the sea; move on. (I blame Hollywood for all those romantic comedies wherein persistence wins in the end. If he is just not that into you, don’t waste your time. Life is not a rom-com.)

The irony of love.

For the longest time I had a hard time attracting guys who were also attracted to me. So I wondered what was wrong with me. I tortured myself with questions and self-doubt. Am I not good enough? I’m not that bad-looking, and I am fairly smart; so why am I still single?

I was also told that love should be selfless; love is more about the Other than the self. In fact, I even had this (romantic) notion of “killing my Self,” or putting my needs last, as a way of preparing myself for Love to come into my life. What a silly mistake that was.

The irony of love is that one needs to learn how to love oneself first before one can be capable of loving someone for the long term. Nothing is more unattractive than a guy who is so desperate to be loved; no matter how well one hides it, that desperation always manages to seep out like flop sweat. The moment potential partners sense it, it’s game over.

Years before I met D, I always saw myself as unlucky in love. Either the guy I like doesn’t like me back, or he’s not available. But after I became partnered, suddenly there seemed to be more guys interested in me. I don’t think I was just being oblivious before; I was desperately in search of a partner, remember? So what changed? I lost this “need” to be with someone at all costs. I had become more relaxed, more at peace with myself. And I guess that made me more attractive. (Either that, or there are more daddy- and chub-chasers these days. LOL!)

Love yourself and others will love you too.

The Departures Fabcast

“Ang galing ng script ng Fabcasts ninyo!”

Someone made a comment about the Fabcasts, saying he was amazed at the script. What script? Our Fabcasts are never scripted; we just have an idea of the topic, and the things we will touch on. But we never write out a script, or even an outline. It’s a good thing that several of us are used to facilitating group discussions (Migs, for example, is excellent at doing that; that’s why he always acts as host); that way, there’s always someone who steers the conversation back on track. But often we do go off-tangent with our side (and snide) comments. And that’s when things get really rowdy.

The following Fabcast is a clear example of that.

It was supposed to be a short Fabcast addressing several departures from the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery, AJ’s death being the most permanent one. But because of one small “matter” that blew out of proportion, this whole episode BOILED down to PRICKING on Londonboy’s unfortunate condition. We couldn’t help it.

(Even I couldn’t help it while producing this particular episode. At the end of this episode, you’ll hear Rihanna singing, “Oh-NA-NA, what’s my name? Oh-NA-NA, what’s my name?”)

It’s another riotous recording by the Fabcasters and the peanut gallery, composed largely of us having fun at Londonboy’s expense, while all the while trying our best to go back to the topic. Warning: If you listen to this using headphones while in a public place, beware of suddenly bursting out laughing.

Click on the link below and enjoy!

Download this fabcast (right click and save)


Music credits:

“Party Rock Anthem” by LMFAO
“Cheers (Drink To That)” by Rihanna
“Ha Ha Ha” by Eraserheads
“What’s My Name” by Rihanna