M.W.L.L.A.M

my friend lisa, who recently got married, set her younger sister up with a m.w.l.l.a.m: "man who looks like a man." all has worked out well and her sister and this "man who looks like a man" are engaged to be married next summer. this idea that lisa has, of how important it is to find a "man who looks like a man" has provided numerous hours of entertainment for the rest of my gilfriends and I. what are the attributes required in order for one to look like a man, as opposed to a guy or a boy? lisa has never really defined it for us but i've always assumed she meant "older, masculine"? who the hell knows. all i know is lisa's vision of what constitutes a man, is more along the lines of a "dad who looks like a dad."

recently, i've met a man who i consider to be a total "m.w.l.l.a.m" and i tell you, this is one fine piece of a man. i hired P to install gallery flooring for the art gallery project in our building and unlike most of the prototypcial image of men who do floors (you know: 75 years old, groggy, mean, 300 lbs, usually named Bruno wearing plaid shirts with sweat pants and suspenders), P is one of the kindest men i have ever met, not to mention he's easy on the eyes and has a wicked manchester english accent. i don't know how many contractors would be so generous as to take a $1000 off his fees just because he respects the work you do and offers to hire some of your youth to work for him? so anyway, i now have a crush on a 40 year old man, but in the most platonic/non-erotic way. this is quite a departure for me, given most of my high-school crushes revolved around younger men with the last name Ng! lol. the best analogy i can come up with is linda's crush on sean connery or janey's realization that she is attracted to certain fat men. speaking of my best bud linda, she was fortunate enough to meet P yesterday and agrees whole-heartedly with me that this is one dreamy man. i wish i had a better photo of him to plaster all over my blog but this will have to do in the meantime. (in order to protect P and MY privacy, password is last 4 digits of my cell #). da-ha

this morning, i had to wake up early to open up the office for P so he could finish his work. being the nice man that he is, he took me out for breakfast as a thanks, knowing i dread 8am wake-up calls on a sunday morning. after actually having a conversation witht P about his life, i decided he really is one super cool man-dad-ex-husband-boyfriend etc. its nice to get to know the people you work with and the layers of their life stories, as opposed to just contractors who you feel nothing but disconnected with. i met with 6 different floor contractors and from the get-go, liked P the most because he was the most sincere. my gut instincts are always right. in the end, a man is not so great if he just LOOKS like a man or wears man-belts or drives expensive man-cars. kindness and the ability to just be genuine, amongst many other things, defines a good man and overall, a good person. after meeting P, i've decided that i want to exude that kindness and goodness that P does. yeah yeah, i know, i can only be myself but like eng wrote in one of her entries and i quote because i love it so much for its realness:

"I never wanted to be a good person. i always wanted to be cool, or interesting, or smart, or pretty. never good. now all i want to be is good, and all i want to feel is good about myself."

ps: yes the BF knows about my crush, i couldn't wait to tell him. haha. and my BF is the coolest mofo' around because he's met P and agrees with me that P is one helluva handsome man!

on death

went to a funeral mass for a friend's dad today. funerals are sad and i wonder, is death sad or is it the process of a funeral that is depressing? i'd be lying if i said i've never thought about how the world would mourn, moreover, if they would mourn, if i left earth. strange to be thinking about these things but who doesn't? i'd be pretty crushed if people didn't care about my passing, but in the same vein, i would be pretty crushed to know that my passing would cause sadness for the people i adore the most in this world. i don't want people to wear black at my service, how about brown? it is my favourite color, afterall.

the service was at a catholic church. then i started to think about how THE CHURCH is a house of such great happiness and joyous occasions as well as house of all things dark and morbid. we (we as in us catholics) celebrate marriage, birth, death and resurrection all under one roof. i think about the church i was in today, which also happens to be the BF's regular parish, and i think if the BF and i were to wed some day in this church, how happy of an occasion it would be for us, but for our friends B&P, who if they attended our wedding, would be faced with and re-living the memories of today. i think about these things. i've got time on my hands and i like to periodically zone out and drift into awful, awful thoughts.

another thought i had today, which is rare for me, is that i never thought i'd be so happy to be in a relationship with some other catholic. NOW, BEFORE EVERYONE FLIPS OUT, i promise this is not going to be some weird attempt to convert all my closest atheist/agnostic friends. anyone who really knows me, knows that i'm not your orthodox by the book catholic, but i'm a decent one--whatever that means, i'll leave it up to you to figure out. but catholicism has never been on my dating criteria checklist. however, today, standing next to the BF and listening to him belt out sad farewell songs, it felt nice to know that he "gets it" (it, being all-things/traditions catholic-related). it's nice to not be questioned, to not feel like i need to justify all the nonsensical things related to religious life, it's nice to be with someone who has a stronger sense of faith and hope because god knows sometimes i don't have either.

what a weird entry. i was going to end it off with a really corny joke or make sarcastic references to people i hate, but i'm not going to do that. if i die tomorrow, i'd like my last blog entry to reflect how much i dig my friends and family and am so lucky to be in their company.

the woman who gave birth to me

Happy birthday to my mom! My mommy is a very small Vietnamese woman with a whole lot of spunk in her, or as the BF describes her "the most extroverted Asian woman" around. I hope that when I hit 55, I look half as good as my momma. I figure, this is the least I can do for her given I'm not around on her birthday and oh yeah, also the least I can do given she was in labour with my big head for "4 days and 4 nights!"

biGG ups to ma homey

this a a shoutout to my boo Janey on her 27th birthday. hitting up the mid-to-late 20's bracket and she still looks fantastic, not to mention, wrinkle and cellulite free! if you have had the good fortune of crossing paths with the Ghetto Bard herself, consider yourself lucky because she is one super neat woman. on the flip side, consider yourself unlucky because you usually walk away from conversations with J wondering to yourself "hmm, why didn't i think about that?" or "hot dog, she's fucking brilliant!" which sucks for your self-esteem. then, you kind of end up resenting her because you realize her intention wasn't to make you feel stupid and in fact, she still wants to be your friend for some odd reason. kinda crappy huh? when you can't even hate on her because she's so effin' great. when you try to kick someone out of your life because you think they're just too good to be your friend, but they just keep on coming back, knocking on your door...with peach cobbler in hand. btw, J makes a wicked peach cobbler but she'll only bake you one if you're in her good books. happy barday you scumbag. i hearts you.