Attention Women: NEVER LEAVE THIS MESSAGE

All righty, now here’s the sitch:  My roommate had some friends over a few weeks ago, and I happened to be home.  So I met this woman, and lemme just say up front that there was no real flirting going on.  I just thought she seemed nice and, truth be told, we only talked for about 10 minutes.  So as she was leaving, she said, I think [my roommate] has my info, so you should get it from her and maybe we can hang out.

It also bears mentioning that this happened to be on the same day that my X and I had the unfortunate “You’re not choosing me” fight so I was feeling pretty salty and not in any mood to even entertain pursuing anything romantic.  But since my X had made it clear that it was time to move on (she was going to a party after all), I thought I should take this as a sign that I should move on too.  What’s the harm in getting to know this girl a little better?

So I invited this girl to come see my friends’ show.  Mind you, the show was a musical, pretty light as far as theatre goes.  It’s not like I was taking her to see Sartre.

And this is the message she left on my VM:

Hey [Wile E.] it’s _______ calling you back… um… Thanks so much for giving me a call I… um… It’s taken me a while to call you back, I’m so sorry.  I’ve been… sick with the swine flu actually this entire week and I’m just getting caught up on, um, work and school again, and so… it’s been… quite the week.  But, um… yeah tonight I have to work actually.  I am… um.  I’m a server at Buca’s so I’m gonna be going into there, uh, and… so yeah, that’s what I’ll be doing tonight so I won’t be able to come and I just wanted to let you know too, um… it was so much fun to hang out.  I, I… have to… you just, I want you to know, I was… I was really tipsy that night, and so some of the, some of what I was saying, I don’t even remember some of the things I said, but I do remember the fact that I got really excited about… plays, and, um, I do enjoy plays, but I think I got really excited [laughs].  Um, and I rarely go see ‘em, but my roommate used to take me to go see ‘em, and so um… yeah I don’t know, I don’t even know, remember everything I said, but… um…  And also, I…um… I don’t wanna be overpresumptuous or anything, but, um… for, like… um.  My, my schedule right now is just unbelievably incredibly insanely crazy busy and, um… it would be fun if you wanted, like, to come hang out with… um, like, if you wanted to for, go hang out with my friends and that kinda stuff that would be awesome… um… but I’m having this time where I’m like, I don’t even know if I have t-time to like, I, I rarely have time to even hang out with my really good friends.  Thursday was like an awesome time to get out.  But I’m balancing a couple jobs and school right now, and so, I’m sure you understand that too, So… um… yeah, if I… If, that’s kind of, I’m sorry I’m even saying this to your voicemail, but um, wanted to just be like clear with… where I’m at and I’m… um… so… Anyways, um… thanks again for the invitation and, and maybe some other time or… um, we can… yeah… get some– get something together and hang out, so all right, I’ll… I will talk to you later.  All right, bye bye.

I suppose she could have just gotten a big neon sign that read, “NO” in big pink letters, but this’ll have to do.

Some of you may be wondering…

…what the hell is he talking about?

Believe me, I’ve been wondering that same shit lately.  I’m sure you get it by now: I’ve been cheated on and feel pretty salty about it.  Ok, now that that’s out of the way, let’s unpack it a little.

My acting teacher carries one of those huge podium-style dictionaries in a bag whenever he comes into class.  He says that a lot of times, even when we think we know what a word means, we might have something to learn from the dictionary definition.  So, whenever we come across a word in class that seems important, he whips out his big dictionary.

What I’m getting at is that a lot of people out there might have a working understanding of what it means to cheat or be cheated on, but after being told that it’s time to get over it, I’m starting to think that it might help to whip out my big dictionary and really understand what is going on.

According to my computer’s dictionary program, to Cheat:

To act dishonestly or unfairly in order to gain an advantage, especially in a game or examination.

To deceive or trick.

To use inferior materials or methods unobtrusively in order to save time or money.

To avoid something undesirable by luck or skill.

The overarching theme is that cheating benefits no one except for the cheater.  That might seem obvious, but if to love is to give, to cheat is purely selfish, the polar opposite of love.

On the effects of cheating: The last definition is to avoid something undesirable by luck or skill.  Something undesirable.  Just to be totally obvious, the “something undesirable” is the partner being cheated on.  I’m sure there are experts out there who can speak to the myriad psychological effects of being cheated on, but the bottom line is that to cheat is to deceive, which opens the door to a slew of issues with commitment, trust, and self-esteem.

There’s a dude out on the west coast, Dr. John Gottman, who’s been studying relationships to scientifically quantify them and what makes them work.  He’s found that relationships are the basis for emotional health, cognitive development, and ultimately, how we learn throughout our lives.  One of the things he’s found from studying romantic relationships over the last 35 years or so is that healthy successful relationships have a positive-negative ratio of 5-1.  That means for every negative thing someone does to their partner, they do 5 positive things.  It doesn’t take a scientist to know that people are more inclined to be self-critical, so for their partner to reinforce something negative about them would require at least 5 positive things just for the sake of balance.

So let’s put this in the context of cheating.  In order for it to be a wash, according to Dr. Gottman’s findings, the cheater would have to do some positive action that carries the impact of cheating 5 times.  Here’s where the cheater’s argument often loses steam.  The argument I’ve heard the most is, “You have to forgive me.”  Ok, yes forgiveness can be helpful, but doesn’t that just let the cheater off the hook?  Why isn’t it the cheater’s responsibility to earn back their partner’s faith and trust if they want to continue the relationship?  So the question should be, “what are you gonna do, cheater, to earn that forgiveness?”

People who are cheated on often blame themselves, are made to feel inadequate, and have trouble with trust in the future.  So what does it say when we focus on whether or not the victim is capable of forgiveness rather than the work that the cheater needs to do if (s)he wants to work it out?

If you’re like me and have a big ol’ red button about being cheated on, that positive thing your partner does for you might have to end up feeling like an Olympian winning a gold medal.  Now try to do that 5 times.

Is it an uphill battle?  Yes.  But if you’re gonna cheat on your partner, you’re bringing that on yourself.  Relationships are already hard work without adding bullshit expectations about being forgiven for something as shitty as cheating.  You’d be lucky if your partner gives you another chance after being cheated on, so take your destiny into your own hands and do what it takes for the relationship to work.

There’s a quote that I’ve always liked from an alternate ending of The Last Kiss :

It’s always amazed me how much a choice you make in a fleeting instant can change your life forever.  I just feel so lucky that the choices I’ve made have led me to exactly where I am… I can’t honestly say that Jenna’s completely forgiven me and for all I know she never will, but a wise man once told me you can’t fail if you don’t give up.  And guess what?  I’m not giving up.

So what is this all about?  Well, it’s time for me to stop feeling sorry for myself.  It’s time for the Wily Filipino Online Pity Party to turn the lights on and kick everyone out.  The hardest thing for me to realize is that for all my self-blaming, the onus falls on the woman who acts dishonestly.

Let this be the warning to you ladies out there.  You’ll never meet another guy like me.  Don’t fuck it up.

Phenomenon, Do Dooo do do DO!

There’s a phenomenon out there that I think we’ve all been made aware of on some level.  I just saw it happen in a bar in Mpls:

A woman walked into the bar, looking gorgeous, confident, interesting; giving off a strong personality vibe in general.  And in walks her date, a guy that, for lack of a better term, was plain, vanilla, boring.

OK, I get that that’s a superficial judgment on my part, but I’ve also seen it happen with my friends and family.  It’s the really great guy who is dating a woman with the personality of a coffee table.  It’s the very cool, hip, all around awesome woman who’s with the stereotypical loser boyfriend.

So here’s my question to you, dear readers:  If I feel I’ve always dated really great, interesting, confident women, how often have I been the guy that people look at and say, “what does she see in him?”  50%? 20%?

And if you’re going through a break-up and your friends are telling you, “You’re better off/It’s her loss…” and you know that her friends are telling her, “You’re better off/It’s his loss…” then aren’t we all losers?

Discuss.

Thank God for Cheaters

As I’ve been isolated from the outside world by my newly injured back as well as the sub-zero weather, I’ve had a lot of time to think and to read.  And as 2008 comes to a close, I can’t help but review the highlights of the year-gone-by.  So I’ve come to this:

Thank God for Cheaters.

I know I’ve devoted a good deal of consonants and vowels toward dealing with my disdain and anger about the situations I’ve found myself in romantically, but it’s time for me to get off the mat and lift a finger to the lord.  No, not that one.  The one next to it.  Yep.  That one.

Whether you believe that there’s a divine plan or not, or if you’d rather call it fate or destiny, it seems to me that it’s all in the way you look at it.  It could be a random sequence of events, or there could be a purpose behind all the… I think the doctors prefer the term “discomfort.”  And whatever it might have been for them wimmins that done broke my heart, all I know is that they’re someone else’s problem now.  Good riddance: Don’t let the door hit’cha where the good lord split’cha.

I don’t know if I totally believe in destiny, but from where I sit it looks like the world out there has a natural balance to it.  And maybe that’s all destiny is, really: the world just trying to stay level.  And maybe part of that process is that some people fight, and others live to fight another day.

Just about everything I know about relationships by watching my parents.  Yeah, they fight, they nag each other, they argue.  But, most of all, they love.  And no matter what happens, they will always put each other first.  I suppose that’s what happens after nearly 40 years of marriage.  Naively, I took that and went on my merry way in search of that great love that people write epic poems about, but the thing is that not everyone knows what love like that looks like.  And for some women, as the hard way has taught me, the prospect of being loved like that is pretty friggin freaky.

Hearts get broken along the way, but you gotta keep in mind that it’s all for the greater good. It’s all meant to keep the world from tipping over and spilling all over the place.  Cuz no one is gonna wanna clean that up.  Maybe my heart had to be broken to save a life, bring rain to a drought-stricken area, or help Scarecrow get a new brain.  Either way, if it weren’t for being cheated on, my own stubbornness and propensity toward blind devotion would have kept me in some really (for lack of a better word) shitty relationships.  I guess the best lesson I’ve learned this year (actually just the last few weeks) is that emotional pain is like credit:  You can either pay it all off right away in one lump sum, or you can pay it off little by little and keep it looming over your head like a bad day.

So here’s where it Begins (I thought it might end here, but this seems to be the first step rather than the last).  Experience helps you realize what you are not, and once those puzzle pieces are in place you start to see what you are.  So to all those cheaters in my past:  Thank You…

For showing me what friendship is: People with the maturity to not feel compelled to pick sides and who will do what’s best for you as their friend while doing what’s best for me as my friend.

For encouraging me to be even more proud to be Filipino.  My kids are gonna be brown anyway, and that shouldn’t be something that anybody has to “deal with.”

For helping me see that keeping quiet and sacrificing my own wants and needs almost never turns out well.

For demonstrating that it takes courage to allow yourself to be loved.

You’ve taught me a lot, oh Cheaters of my past, but most of all you’ve helped me uncover bits and pieces of who I am.  And while I’m still a work in progress, it’s time for me to stop carrying around all that debt and making perfectly innocent women pay.  So this is it.  Your lump sum.

I mean, imagine the alternative:  We could still be together.

At least I have that going for me.

Mmm… Breakfast.

After my roommate set off the fire alarms in our apartment building, which is an entirely different story, our apartment smelled a bit like grease fire.  So I put my trusty snow boots on the other night and trekked down to “the wal” for a perusal of their scented candles section.

I ended up buying three.

One for the dining room/family room area, and two for my room.  Here’s where the evening took a drastic turn.  I’ve tried both of them out, I like them both for different reasons, and I think they both have the potential to end my love life for a considerable amount of time.  That’s where you come in, trusty readers of Wily Filipino.  I need your help.

The two candles I bought belonged to a line of scented candles whose theme was cupcakes.  They’re all supposed to smell like different cupcake flavors.  After several minutes of deliberation, I settled on these two:  Cherry Chip and Cinnamon French Toast.

So here’s the scenario:  You’re on a 6th, 7th… possibly 8th date with a guy.  You’ve done the offbeat, yet endearingly thoughtful activity you’ve come to know and love, and you awkwardly hint at heading to his place for a nightcap, because he’s too much of a wimp to make a real move (read: a gentleman), and upon entering the place “where the magic happens” as they say, it smells like:

a) Cherry

2) Breakfast

Discuss.

My life as a single parent

There’s a scene from How To Lose A Guy In 10 Days that I’ve been thinking about lately.  It’s the Love Fern scene.  Kate Hudson’s character gives Matthew McConaughey a fern, in an effort to freak him out via the Too Much Too Fast method, and compares it to the relationship they’re starting.  She charges him with taking care of the Love Fern in the same way he would take care of the relationship.  When she discovers the dried up, dying Love Fern a few days later, she asks, “are you gonna let us die?”

I saw the movie two years or so ago with my X and then a little while later she and I went out and bought a huge Lucky Bamboo stalk and put it in a vase.  We joked that it was our version of the Love Fern.  As time went on, I realized that I was the only one that ever watered our lonely bamboo stalk, dusted off his vase, and made sure the rocks in his vase were clean.  Needless to say, the Love Bamboo eventually turned yellow and dried up, she went off and started fooling around with another guy and turned out to be my X.

This thought came to me today as I was gathering woodchips for a tree that was given to me for my birthday from the woman I was dating at the time.  At the time, I thought that this was a symbolic gesture telling me that this woman saw a future with me, but it turns out that the symbolism didn’t quite hold up when (wait for it…) another interested guy entered the scene.  But I’ve decided not to let another innocent plant die for the sake of making a point.

See, the thing that happened here is that it did end up the way the Kate Hudson described.  These plants became analogous of the relationships I was in when they came into my life.  Both times, I assumed the burden of being the one that cared for them.

For all my bitching and moaning about being cheated on and such, a friend of mine told me that, “the grass isn’t greener on the other side, it’s green where you water it.”  I guess I can’t sum it up better than that.  I just need to date better gardeners.

The Doctor is IN.

A while ago, a friend of mine suggested that I could be the real life version of the Date Doctor from the movie Hitch.  Since the restaurant has been really slow lately, I’ve been exploring other avenues of income.  I looked into ballroom dance instruction, which had a 2 year contract that would make it nearly impossible to do any theater, I’m teaching sporadic acting classes to kids, and I put in an application at a couple of temp agencies.

Right now, the whole Date Doctor thing sounds pretty appealing.

Here’s the rub:  Who am I to give dating advice to others when I haven’t been able to make it work in my own life?

Another friend reminded me that “those who can’t, teach.”

Due respect to my fellow teachers out there, maybe that’s a good philosophy to follow in this case.  Just because my efforts have fallen on the nonreciprocal doesn’t necessarily mean that they won’t work with the right girl.  And maybe there are guys out there who have found the right girl but don’t know how to express themselves in that way.

Or maybe I’ve just been acting that way because I think that any somewhat punctual woman who returns my call is “The One.”

Well, either way, perhaps my failures can be benefitted from.  Takers?

Tick…

I found out recently that an X of mine got married this year.  What is this I’m feeling?  Jealousy?  No.  The feeling that she’ll never come running back to me?  Nope.  OH!  I know… it’s the feeling that accompanies the fact that I’ve seen this woman a number of times in the last year or so and she’s never mentioned it.  Yeah… that’s it.

We run into each other every couple months.  We’re not the best of friends, but she works in the backstage world of the theater biz and we run into each other and chat about what’s going on… life, work, etc.  Engagement and subsequent marriage would be something that might fall into the “etc.” portion of our Under 5 minute discussions.  “Oh, hey… how’ve you been? … Cool.  What have you been up to lately? … Me? Yeah… by the way I’m getting MARRIED.”

Maybe she felt weird about telling me because we dated for 2 years in college and until last year, she still had my high school class ring and my senior pin (do people even “pin” each other anymore? geez, I’m really cool for a guy in the 1950s).  Maybe she thought I already knew somehow.  I mean, he’s an actor around town and we’ve hung out after shows before.  He’s a good guy and after the first time I hung out with him, I already knew that he was perfect for her.

I know that women are the ones who are supposed to have the biological clocks that tick so loud that they’re like the alligator from Peter Pan, but when is my love life gonna uncomplicate itself and point in the right direction?  I know, intellectually, that I don’t want to rush into anything just for the sake of walking down the aisle, but I can’t help feeling like this is my own special dating purgatory where I’m headlining with Cheaty the Time-Waster! (Arrrrrrrrrrrrrrgh!)

Enough of that.  Wow.

I’m happy for them.  It’s always good to know that someone has found their true love and made it honest.  But I still feel like some of the credit belongs to me.  After all, if I hadn’t gotten out of the way when I did, they might not have even met each other.  Maybe it’s like that movie Good Luck Chuck* and there’s a curse on me so if you date me, you end up meeting your soulmate after we break up..?

I guess we all have our roles to play.

*yes, I saw it.  It had Jessica Alba in it and she’s hot.  I didn’t see it in theaters or anything like that, but it was totally worth getting on netflix.

“I don’t want you to do the dishes… I want you to WANT to do the dishes.”

Ok keeds.

Let’s just say, hypothetically speaking, that you’d want your man to bring you flowers more often.  You know, try a little harder… actually woo you.  So you say, “honey, why don’t you ever bring me flowers?”  You might have a talk about it and, lo and behold, the next day what does this oh-so-thoughtful man do?  He brings you flowers.

[studio audience]: Aww.

As much as you might want to believe that this was purely an act of attentive consideration on the part of your beloved, you may be plagued by the nagging feeling that he just got you flowers because you asked him to.  Wholly unromantic.

This is the crux of the whole deal.  Most women want their men to be thoughtful enough to act on their own… and when they aren’t, they muster up the courage to mention it or have a “talk.”  Doing so, they risk giving up the element of surprise, which was the whole point of the thing in the first place, and suddenly the gesture doesn’t taste as sweet.

Ladies, we know as well as you that if you nag us enough we’ll eventually cave and do what it is that you’re nagging us to do.  But that isn’t what you really want, is it?  You want us to WANT to do things for you.  You want us to be considerate of your feelings, to be thoughtful, and put your happiness above our complacency.  Here’s how that conversation goes:

“Babe, can you help me with the dishes?”

“Sure… just let me finish this (level, quarter, inning, afterschool special)”

“Please, honey?  Let’s just do this real quick and you can get back to your thingy.”

“Ok, just give me a minute.”

“If you help me now, it won’t take as long and you’ll be back before you know it…please?”

“Yeah… why don’t you get started, and I’ll pop in when I’m done.”

“Fine. (sigh) Forget it.”

“No, I’ll be right in, ok?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“No, really, just one minute.”

“Whatever.”

“Ok fine, I’ll do the farking dishes…”

“No. I don’t want you to do the dishes.”

“You just said you did.”

[wait for it...]

“I don’t want you to do the dishes.  I want you to WANT to do the dishes.”

Guys, at this point, just shut the hell up.  What most of us don’t realize in this situation is that it’s a Lose-Lose.  The damage is done.  You cannot possibly win this argument.  It’s true, nobody really wants to do dishes.  But what she’s asking is for bigger than dishes.  She’s asking you to care about her enough to want to make her happy.  It’s a big-picture thing that applies to the big things as well as the little things.

I find myself, yet again, in the stereotypical female position of all things romantic.  Having been recently burned by love, I’m reluctant to get into any kind of romantic relationship right now.  The woman who did the most recent singeing has thrown herself on the mercy of the court and wants me to give it another try.  After calmly yet firmly explaining my position to her, she replied:

“What do I have to do…?”

Ahhhhh…. so.  The plot thickens.  I’m not gonna say I wasn’t tempted to make her hop on one foot and bark like a dog… a really big dog… but I digress.

I could run down the laundry list of things, in an almost Survivor Challenge way, that might bring me back to the table, but basically, it boils down to: You shouldn’t have done what you did.

Bottom line:  I don’t want her to do any of those things.  I want her to want to do those things on her own.  Or maybe more accurately, I want her to do things not to win me back, but as a statement to the universe (and to herself) that that’s not who she is anymore; that she regrets what she did and that she genuinely wants to square things with the universe first, knowing that by doing that she is putting faith in a world that will eventually bring her to where she wants to be.

Or, she could build herself a time machine, go back, and talk some sense into that girl who was on the verge of fucking things up with possibly the best guy she’d ever date.

As a parting gift to both the ladies and the fellas, I offer this suggestion:

When she brings up the talk about getting her flowers, resist the urge to do it right away.  Get out your calendar/palm pilot/blackberry and write it down a week, and then a month, from the day she brought it up.  Let some time pass, let her forget (a little bit) about the conversation you had.  Better yet, don’t even make it flowers.  Make it something that shows you know something about her that no one else knows.  Most importantly, let her know that you are capable of surprising her on your own.

Where are all the good men dead…in the heart or in the head?

I find myself at an all-too-familiar crossroads.

“Maybe you’re too nice…?” Suggested a friend.

OH, yes, I need to be more of an asshole to keep women from cheating on me. Forget who I am and what I stand for… I should compromise that if I want a girl who’ll stick around.

You know, ladies, for all your bitching about how there are no good men out there you don’t seem to realize the fact that you (collectively) have created this situation. I’m not saying that men are relegated to the role of victim here, after all, we make the choice. What I’m saying is that it’s hard to choose the road marked “good guys” when experience has taught you that its fraught with confusion and heartbreak only to end up at the exact same crossroads a few months or years later.

We all know that the whole Good Triumphs Over Evil thing is not always the way it goes down. We live in a world where corporate shadiness is rewarded while NPOs who are doing the real work are getting their funding cut left and right. So maybe it’s not so cut and dry.

I’ve had girls tell me that I’m “too good to be true” or that they’re “waiting for the other shoe to drop.” Look, I get it. It’s a rarity to find a genuinely good guy sometimes and when you have one it might make you a bit suspicious. But isn’t that just making some innocent dude pay for the mistakes of your past boyfriends? And in the meantime you’ve introduced a whole hell of a lot of doubt into the core of this guy’s being: They start to see all these great girls with these asshole guys and they start to think, “what does she see in him?” or worse, “Maybe I’m too nice…”

For me, it boils down to faith. You gotta have faith in yourself that you’re a good guy and you shouldn’t have to compromise your integrity just so you can end up acting and talking like every other guy. You gotta have faith that there’s someone out there in the world who will appreciate you and what you stand for while keeping their lips, hands, and other related body parts to themselves. You gotta have faith-ah, faith-ah, faith-ahhhhh…

So, ladies, stop stepping on our necks and then complaining we aren’t out there. Every good guy gone bad was created by you in some way.

I find myself at a familiar crossroads, but I know that the road I haven’t tried only guarantees me unhappiness. At least with the one I’ve already taken, there’s a chance that it won’t go the same way next time. And that chance, however slim it might feel at the moment, is what makes it worth it for me.