TRUTH THURSDAYS: I Wish…

[BGmusic: Thinking Out Loud by Emiliana Torrini]

Quote for the day:

“You should be pleased, that’s direct transfer of learning.”

- Sir Juanico of Geog105 [Economic Geography],
on his spittle landing on unfortunate
people sitting in the front row

*kwento engaged*

So awhile ago, I was hanging out at one of my orgs’ tambayans, waiting for 12:45 to come, when my friend turned to talk to me and told me that someone asked her if she knew me.

I know what you’re thinking: whoa someone asked about you, big deal.  I know, it’s not.  Hello. But if she felt the need to share that with me I knew that it must have been more than just that. So naturally, I pried. Ahem.

She went on to say that *the-person-who-asked* had a friend who courted me and… erm… to put it bluntly, crashed and burned.

WHOA! Juicy! But wait there’s more!

Then *the-person-who-asked* asked my friend, “Maganda ba siya?”

Of course, my friend said yes.  Ehem.

*end kwento*

INITIAL REACTION: Smugness.

• Waw I’m famous! People from other colleges are talking about me! Whoa!
• I still have friends who aren’t embarrassed to own up to being my friend and can attest to my… er… good-lookingness [yes!] without batting an eyelash.

So I went off to my class feeling pretty pleased with myself.  Until I started digesting this whatever-you-call-it.

AFTER DIGESTION THERE WAS: Poop Worry

• That boy [because it could only be that boy] courted me when we were freshmen.  FRESHMEN. Read: we’re seniors now. SENIORS. I’m over it. He’s over it [this is an assumption based on empirical evidence].  That should be enough, but nooooo.  When will everyone else get over it?
• Do I owe everyone an explanation?  How many people know about what happened anyway? Am I going to be forever known as the-girl-who-turned-down-*toot*?  And does that make him the-boy-who-got-turned-down-by-the-girl-who-turned-down-*toot*?  Will this continue to haunt me even after I graduate?

It was all I thought about as I waited for my class to start.

Then, something hit me.

WHAT HIT ME: Indignation

“Maganda ba siya?”

[Cue echo: "maganda-ba-siya-siya-siya-siyaaaaa"]

Exsqueeze me?

“Maganda ba siya?”

Does it matter?

Out of all the questions in the world, it had to be that.  Not “does she have a nice voice / are her jokes any good / how does she like her coffee / does her music suck / what’s her motto in life” but that: is she pretty.

Like it’s all that really matters.  All everything boils down to.

We all know that it’s not.

…

It’s not.

Back in high school, when my long-term crush got himself a girlfriend, I was devastated [not really, just a little sad] not because he was off the market, but because the girl wasn’t much to look at.  Therefore, and I conclude… that it wasn’t just physical attraction, but something deeper.  What made me sad was the fact that I couldn’t compete with “something deeper”. Boohoo. [This is where you go: "awwww"]

And yes, I do believe that what I shared with that boy was “something deeper”.

So there.

You’ve just witnessed how slow my thought processes are [i.e. how it takes fifteen minutes for smugness to evolve into pissed].

The end.

*  *  *

I wish we’d stop equating a person’s worth with his/her physical appearance.

I wish I could go out sporting unflattering clothes and oily hair and still find someone [read: not some random creep] who’d gladly ask for my number.

I wish there was a way for people to see how everyone is inside [guts and all - bwahaha].

I wish there were more people who would listen to what you have to say instead of focusing on that huge zit on your nose.

I wish that the next time someone asks about me, instead of giving me the hot-or-not test, they’d ask for… my favorite color.  XD

Which is orange.  Just in case you wanted to know.

*  *  *

What are TRUTH THURSDAYS?

My sister’s writer-friend/twin started it.  Click here if you want to join in the fun, or if you’re just curious.