Little Miss Apple Pie: Updates

I have been into several relationships before and most of them gave me the bitter realization that I might not just be the type of person a man would like to date.

Looking back in the years that have passed, I did my best to recall the type of person I was and what I have become.

And through my stroll down memory lane, I've come to realize what made me under qualified to be a member of the ever growing dating pool, and here are the reasons why:

1. I am loud.

Not in bed, I'm not. But if you ask most of the people I know they'd tell you that I speak loudly and that I laugh boisterously. I'm also pretty animated and add the fact that I teach kids for a living, and what do you get? Adult woman blurting out her emotions or expressions with a little exaggeration.

Of course, I do not intend to speak as if I'm trying to gain attention. I'm not. Truth be told, it's something innate and hard to change and even to control at times.

Have I done something about it? Aye! Definitely. But I always end up being either inaudible or in a comical whisper.

2. I laugh easily.

I am known to be the one who laughs the loudest and the easiest to crack up--even if the joke or situation isn't too funny to everyone else.

I just have a different way of perceiving "funny" things or situations that most often than not, men misinterprets it as flirting or showing interest in them.

I'm actually doing my best to control my impulse to laugh loudly at little things but to no avail; plus, holding in my laughter always leave me in tears and out of breath.

3. I'm one of the boys.

I am not sure exactly how and why, but I just seem to click with men more than women. Sometimes, I'd have people telling me that I act and think like a man, and to be honest I'm not sure if it's a bad thing or a good thing.

To be even more honest, I'd like to believe it's a good thing just because it gives me the freedom to break social and gender barriers and the norm that girls should only be friends with girls because we have cooties--whatever that is. I naturally think and act in such way, that sometimes, and yet again, people deliberately misconstrue it as flirting or as if I'm trying to gain some guy's attention.

But the truth is, I just basically like to talk to men better because they know no bullshit celeb gossip and can actually talk about a wide range of topics aside from the common washroom talk about whose purse mismatched her shoes.

On the side, they make a good game buddy and protective brother material. Nobody can mess with me, my bro's got my back but sadly, since they know I'm a dude too, I can't be taken seriously as more than just another guy friend with the tits of a B-cup woman.

4. I'm disgusting.

Disgusting in the sense that I sit like a boy, burp the alphabet, don't wash my hair on the weekends and eat on my bed. I also smell my pits in public and boast my burping skill.

To make it worse, I eat like a pig. Not literally though, but I really love to pig out. And most men loves seeing a girl eat daintily, but I don't eat that way, I'm extremely unattractive when I eat, hence I'm off the dating list. Oh, you'd be surprised at how many men I can turn off with those things. To my male friends it's cool, but to a prospect boyfriend? Just think about it, I fucking burp the fucking alphabet.

5. I curse a lot.

I just can't fucking help it. It just simply slips off my mouth. But I couldn't fucking care less about it, that's how I am.

Of course, I'm still a considerate bitch; I keep my freaking gob shut around old people and children who may be offended by my choice of not-so-fancy expressions.

Men likes to date cutesy type of girls who bats their lashes and blushes to their compliments, not someone who's always in a battle to top off Al Pacino in Scarface. 'Nuff said.

6. I'm a bookworm.

I'm not exactly smart or intelligent, but I'm not a bubble-head either. I've got some strong convictions and opinions that some men finds extremely annoying. All of which I got from reading a vast range of topics.

People, men mostly, solely believes that reading is boring hence people who read are most likely to be boring people who are socially awkward and know nothing about the reality of life all because we readers are boxed into the eternal thought that we're trapped into an abyss of fictional fantasies.

Even my mother despises the fact that I read more than I should because it's keeping me from learning to put on makeup on and from developing at least a socially acceptable fashion sense instead of just plain shirt, jeans and sneakers.

7. I'm generally weird and have an inappropriate sense of humor.

I may look normal to the majority but even my closest friends find me weird--really weird. I do things normal adults don't, making me look and seem juvenile.

I'm not immature in general, believe me but I do have a side which I try to hide from most people in fear that I'll get rejected due to the sheer weirdness I possess.

I'm goofy and bubbly, I whine and play sick pranks to people I love--mostly in a very slight sadistic kind of way and not even the dirty kind of sadism. Think about Rocky Balboa.

I go to museums and stand next to warning signs and do the opposite. See, most men would like a demure, classy woman who doesn't even seem know that the words "fart" and "burp" actually exists. No sir. I'm neither demure nor classy, I'm weird and inappropriate.

________________________

I know there are more reasons as to why I'm less likely to be asked on a date, but I promised myself that I'll get some sleep. I'll be lucky if I find a man who would share the same weirdness and wouldn't mind the fact that I am as weird as he is. Heck, there's nothing cuter and sweeter than two people coming together in mutual weirdness to share the same mental dysfunction the universe blessed them with.

This weird list may just be the result of taking in too much caffeine and sugar at work and a product of a bored and tired mind who wants to somehow make itself feel productive outside of the workplace.

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Where do I begin?

The old Andy Williams love song goes, and so was my query.

I could not clearly recall how it all began, all I know was that one moment, he was the uncanny senior with the incredibly sexy voice who also happens to be my leader. The next thing I know, I was drunk in the wee hours of a Friday morning not too long ago, telling him stories of my distant past. I have never planned to, nor did I expect myself to do it, but that night, as we spoke (or as I prattled, rather) I suddenly cupped his face in my hands and lightly kissed his lips.

I remembered being drunk, but that unintentional kiss brought me back to sobriety in an instant. The look of surprise was etched on his face, but his eyes were twinkling, perhaps in both delight and surprise. Later that day, before he left we shared one last lingering look, no need for words for then and there I knew that I have learned to like him.

Came Independence day, we went out to have lunch with his best friend at a local Persian restaurant. Before that, we have gained mutual understanding already, though the awkwardness was still quite strong. I gave him a book that day, Mario Puzo's The Godfather; I wanted to share with him not only my favorite story of all time but also the world and era I secretly want to live in (for no particular reason, I just want to.) and I am glad he was genuinely happy about receiving the small present I got him.

During lunch that day, I got to know him a little better. I was starting to realize that no matter how opposite we appear to be in terms of personality, we have quite a lot to share after all. As we engaged ourselves into random conversations that day, we also started holding each other's hand and as cliche as this may sound, holding his hand in mine felt so right.

That day I was in bliss that I barely even remembered how the rest of it went. All I know now was that he walked me to work and I kissed him right outside the elevators, in front of his best friend, without any hesitation. Blatant, yes, I felt so too but it was an uncontrollable impulse, believe me. We said our goodbye's after that, and I remember his best friend asking him if he's not going to go in the office with me (by this point, he's already resigned) we were not really sure if we wanted people in the workplace to know about whatever we had just yet and so we decided that he should not.

But not long after that, he came back just when I thought that he has gone home.

I could barely contain my excitement. We shared thoughts that day, things that he have not discussed with me before and I was surprised to know some things but nonetheless, took the risk.

Independence day, 2014.

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The post title might not make any sense to anyone, trust me, I don't think it makes sense too, but to some people it does--and it's the parents of the little boy, who was unfortunately named as such.

Ladies and gents, meet my one week old godson... And yes, he is called Hair Her, but whatever has gotten into the heads of my friends (AKA his inconsiderate parents) I do not know exactly. Perhaps, they just find the name really cute and unique (as it already is) but I still think that it's not right to name an angel such a name.

I officially met Hair (rolls eyes) last Saturday when I went to see his dad after quite a long time. It has been quite a while since we last saw each other, so when he asked where I was and asked me to come over I agreed immediately. We bought rum and Pepsi, even bought him a pack of smoke-- I just missed my friend terribly. LOL While we were walking that night, he told me he needed to confess something so I just let him speak. I listened intently and though I was not surprised with some of his confession, I was really surprised to find out that he have a newborn son.

I was ecstatic, really excited--man, I just couldn't express how happy I felt when he told me about it and when we got to his place, I cannot explain in words the joy I felt especially when I first held Hair in my arms. The name kills it though, I was protesting that they change it, was even blabbering about how terrible they are as parents for naming the little cutie pie as such, but I was relieved when they finally admitted that Hair Her was just a nickname (sighs in relief).

Turns out, our new little ninja's real name is Yohan Leonidas. Killer name, I know--he's a ninja spartan--or spartan ninja? Whatevz, all I know is that I have fallen in love with little Hair the moment I saw and held him especially when he smiled at me for the very first time (see photo above).

Things might have not turned out the best for me in the past couple of months, but to be honest, Hair made me forget about all the heartache. I don't know how, but it's as if he gave me a new chance, he gave me hope for a better tomorrow.

I'm not saying I have totally forgotten about Mike, little Valerie and all... there's just something about Hair that tells me that everything will be alright and that to forget about the pain and forgive myself is what I should do... basically, he made me want to start life over in a clean slate.

Je t'aime mon petite garcon... la marraine vous aime. ❤ ❤ ❤