Saccharine Irony

This site is a compilation of fluid thoughts, a collection of poetry, random glimpses of humor and tragedy, spontaneous notions of an extremely sensitive mind.

Coffee and Muffins and Some Thoughts on Marriage March 15, 2010

Filed under: confessions,Events,Love,Strange Men,Women — Aimee @ 4:52 pm
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Mocha Espresso. Yum.

What a full day I’ve had. I woke up today and blogged about going down with the flu but now it’s almost 1 a.m. and I’m still wide awake, having just arrived home from Bo’s after a long evening over espresso and muffins. I think the flu has subsided a bit, thank heavens, after taking lots of Vitamin Cs and loads of water.

My aunt who’s now married to an American and already based in the U.S. arrived at the house this afternoon and will be staying for a few weeks or so while visiting friends in the city. I got myself two white leather handbags and some makeup as pasalubongs, which is great because I’ve been planning on buying a really nice white bag for the summer and some eye make up for impromptu parties. And tonight she’s decided to treat us out for coffee and muffins because she cannot stand the 5-hour rotating brownouts for the entire evening. Of course I would not want to be left home while the power was out so I slipped into my jeans and top and kind of looked forward to coffee.

While we were at Bo’s some friends of my aunt came to sit with us at the table, and one of them jokingly asked me and my sister if we were already married. We politely replied that no, we are still in our mid-twenties and not at all planning on getting hitched very soon. But the old man was quite in the mood for kidding around, and opined that now is the best time to get married and that marrying when you’re already thirty and up is a huge, huge mistake.

Really? I’m 27, single, having the time of my life, and not at all wanting to settle anytime soon. Well, okay, stability is a huge factor, and at this point, my savings are not anywhere near impressive, so perhaps that is one huge reason why marriage is the farthest thing from my mind right now.

Perhaps, a year or two from now, if that someone proposes to me, I’d gladly say yes. If. A huge IF. But anytime soon is not at all possible. So whoever says I should get married now will do well to shut up. You don’t get married because it’s the right age, you get married because you have the right person in your life at the RIGHT TIME.

Who cares if you get married at 35? At 40? Hello. At this time and age, not every girl is lucky to have a decent man just when their cheeks are at their rosiest and their ovaries are at the pink of health.

But tonight I did not shut the old man up. He was fortunately too funny for that. 🙂

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Lucky, lucky Worms January 25, 2008

Filed under: Mortality stuff,Strange Men — Aimee @ 5:34 am
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v9m7u9-brad.jpg 20080123ledger_ag8888393611.jpg Yeah, this is kind of old news, but there are days when a girl just has too much on her plate that even the deaths of two heartthrobs cannot afford her to make an early reflection on such unexpected tragedies. Again, I was sacrificing sleeping hours for writing, and exploring the sunny world outside when lethargy strikes. Anyway.

Ten days ago, on the 15th of January, Brad Renfro died in his sleep. His Hollywood star sort of waned over the years, but he had such a brilliant career in his youth. He was unforgettable in The Client (1994), and I remember watching a few of his movies in the mid nineties (Sleepers, The Cure, and Tom and Huck) with only as much as a perfunctory interest in his acting prowess, because I was to busy swooning over his lovely brown eyes. Anyone will excuse me for doing so, I was a dreamy adolescent back then, and Brad Renfro was one of the few swoon worthy icons of his time. Then, as most disturbed young actors are wont to do, he grew drug dependent and his movies have become few and far between. Up until his death more than a week ago, my closet still had a few magazine cutouts of his boyish gorgeousness, an outdated remembrance of my silly-shrieking high school years.

Then Heath the sensual Ledger died seven days later, again in slumber. This guy had jawbones that’s to die for, and a burning stare that makes you want to strip down to your underwear and soak in an ice cold bathtub. Brokeback Mountain established his acting skills. He was always excellent in period films. Then, all of a sudden he was reported not to have woken up one gripping afternoon. Sleeping pills overdose, perhaps.

The price actors had to pay for all the glory and red-carpet attention. When people are blown-up to such larger than life proportions, it’s quite hard to believe that they can fade away just like that, and then we are reminded again of the flimsiness of mortal existence.

Such youth, such beauty ought not to be wasted inside rotting mounds of earth, I should say. But it just might as well, for all the grandeur and eminence and possession that one life can hold. Brad and Heath have had their share of the best, so everything is not really wasted. Dying in your twenties however is not a thing worth celebrating, when there are people in their fifties who are just starting on the rosiest time of their lives.

Such a huge regret, whenever those lucky earthworms get their fair share at a most ill-gotten time.

 

If Men Were to Design a Bra December 13, 2007

Filed under: Strange Men,Women — Aimee @ 8:22 am
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men_bra1.jpg This had me laughing today. Oh well, at least it kept my mind off the monotony of my job. Perhaps Wacoal should look into this. Look at how the design actually lifts the bust. Men, men. Always the same naughty, notorious bunch.

 

Rumor has it November 22, 2007

Filed under: Strange Men — Aimee @ 3:03 am
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That Wentworth Miller is gay. Gawd. And it has taken me all this time to write about it. Of course I did not readily believe the reports months before; could not bring myself to make sense of it all. I literally drooled over his Michael Scofield in that highly preposterous suspense-drama series on television, and watched his love scenes in The Human Stain with a thousand “damnits”. I’m no schoolgirl anymore but what the heck, nobody coud have stopped me even if I filled my bedroom walls with cheap reproductions of his smoldering gazes, or watched schmaltzy Mariah Carey music videos ad nauseum because he appeared in two of them for all of thirty seconds.

That’s how pathetic I get whenever I’m smitten.

But rumor has it he’s gay. And that he’d been openly dating. Openly. Oh well.

And to think that I’ve been seriously planning on buying a black, fitted baby t-shirt and have it emblazoned with “Mrs. Scofield” on the front in red, bold letters. Imagine that. My sister would have rolled on her belly, and laughed maniacally like Bella Flores… :p