Cleaning up the closet

I only had one reason for blogging.

It was not the fame.
It was not the popularity.
To be honest, I am satisfied already as soon as I receive the confirmation that my post has gone live.

Over the span of two years, I have joined blogging forums and groups in order to send my voice out there.

This should look like this. That post should look like that. I should gain this much followers. I should connect. I should collaborate.

I joined in. I did what was suggested.
I failed at being a famous blogger and it sucked the life out of me.

Then, I remembered.
I remembered why I was here.
This was not about fame and popularity.
This was not even about getting my voice heard.

I blog because only through my writings can I pour my heart out.
Only through my writings can I be myself.
How ironic could that be when I do not even use my real name.

So, I am starting over.
I am cleaning out my closet.
This will be my last WordPress post.
I will also deactivate my Facebook fan page and account.

But, this is not the end for me.
If you wish to find me, I will still be very active in Instagram at @cavilleta.
For the occasional longer and in-depth post, find my writings on Medium and Twitter at @ca_villeta.
I like those platforms because they are very straightforward in getting my thoughts across. No customization. Just black and white with the occasional color accent. No myriad hashtags.

For those who have supported me, I am humbly thankful, really. I have enjoyed interacting with all of you and I hope this decision of mine will not prevent you from keeping in touch in the future.

Thank you very much and I am officially signing off.

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The Revenge of the Geeks

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Which Side Are You On?

I just watched the midnight premiere screening of Captain America: Civil War. This is not a review. But, let me tell you. Before that, I just came home from a 16-hour flight. I was awake for more than 24 hours before that. On top of that, I was sleeping at the couch of the local CBTL while waiting for the cinema doors to open.

There was not one dull moment. My eyes were glued to the screen and my heart was doing somersaults. I went home after and I could not get it out of my head.

In short, if you have not watched it yet then go take a hint and please do.

Again, this is not a Civil War review. As I was saying I while ago, I did some late night, post-adrenaline thinking at four in the mourning with my plans on getting back on some shut eye too far from reach.

This is what I thought about then.

I may have made the connotation that Civil War is a great movie. (Honestly, why are you still reading this? Go watch it!) So, a group of exquisitely talented people made that movie possible. This group was funded by a company composed of people who believed in their concept. This company is inspired by the colorful literature that the movie was based upon. (Read it. Seriously. Oh and bring some tissues with you when you do.)

I just thought of what kind of people were they when they were younger. Who were they when they did not have these fancy job titles connected to their names? I just thought. They were geeks.

They were the ones described in cartoons as the kids wearing those thick-rimmed glasses. They were the ones with braces. They were the ones wearing ridiculously pristinely ironed clothes. They were the ones who knows the subject matter better than the teacher. They were the ones who live in their parent’s basement because he spends more time there in front of the computer or the train set than anywhere else in the house. They were the ones being locked inside their own lockers. They were the ones secluded by the group. They were the ones being bullied.

I always say to my friends that this is a great era to be a nerd or a geek or whatever you choose to describe yourself if you relate to this on a personal level. All this awesome popcorn movies, all the amazing technology, all the advancements could not be possible if it were not for those former youngsters who get more wedgies than kisses.

This era is the revenge. I always say that kids nowadays are lucky because smart has become the new sexy (finally). Proclaim that you are a fan of Harry Potter or of Marvel or of Game of Thrones and you will receive appraisal and you would even be more than glad to find a group that shares the same interest as you. Do that in my time and you would have received weird looks and no hope to find your kind.

Yes, this is the revenge of the geeks. This is their superhero story wherein they rise from the turmoil that came with growing up in such condition. They used their abilities to save people and to promote the greater good. They have saved future generations of geeks from experiencing the same fate as what they had experienced. They promoted acceptance and unity everywhere.

I raise my glass/goblet/mug/flute/horn (just choose depending on your fandom) to the geeks. For without them, there will be no Microsoft. There will be no Apple. There will be no Facebook. There will be no Naruto. There will be no Marvel. There will be no hoverboards. There will be no Internet.

So, if you are being shunned and excluded because you are passionate about something that is not the norm of your environment then have patience, work hard and do not fear. Your revenge will come.

The Definition of Love

Happy Valentine’s Day, lovelies! The Day of Hearts.

Ah, love. That fuzzy feeling when you see your beloved walk by. That butterfly buzzing in your stomach when you feel that kiss coming close. That warmth that devours your whole body after just being held by two hands. Beautiful, isn’t it?

We all know what love is. Even a five-year-old does. My own definition of love is similiar to how Plato would define it in his Symposium. Love is the pursuit of beauty and wisdom. Love is an acronym, actually. (Yeah, I’m going to stick with this. Prepare to be amused.)

L
Learning to desire your whole self.

Don’t you dream waking up every morning and looking at yourself in the mirror and just say ‘Hello, beautiful’ to your reflection? Except, you have that large zit on your forehead. Except that you have that scar that you got from that accident back when you were 13. Except that you have crooked teeth. Except you have that large mole. Except you have that disaligned eye. Except you have those pudgy cheeks. Except you have that slab of skin on the side of your head that is the closest thing that you have to an ear. And that is only your face.

How depressing is that? No wonder you are not a morning person. And you see the folks on TV have perfect faces and bodies. Life is just not fair.

Guess what? No, sorry. Never will life be fair. But it will get better. Look at the mirror again. Look, such long lashes. See those bushy brows that have not need for eyebrow kits? Make-up savings! See that large mole? Look how it leads the eyes to look at your lips. Aren’t you so kissable? Cheeks, smeeks. Did you look at your nose? So cute! Did you get a good look at your eyes lately? Browns, speckled with orange dots and gray lines if you look close enough. Brown that melts whenever your laugh lines show up as you crack that winning smile. Ooh, such a nice tan. Most would covet and achieve that only to grab a high dosage of sunburn. Saw that? Ah, beautiful. And that is only your face.

Learning to accept yourself fully is essential to love. Like I said, life is not fair. Don’t expect it to be. You will have flaws. Sometimes, more visible than others. But, that makes us human. Love is looking for the beauty in things. According to the Scriptures, loving another is parallel to loving oneself. Treat yourself poorly and expect that you will do the same to others. Then again, how can you possibly love yourself if you are three sizes larger than the norm?

To love oneself is a matter of choice. Those flaws are a part of you. Deal with it. Or do something about it. There are liposuction, breast enlargement, nose lift, and many other treatments that you can choose from. Personally, don’t. Change something about your appearance is exactly the same is having someone change something about themselves. Ask your lover to quit their videogaming as if it is quintessential to your love life is exactly the same as having a cosmetic surgery so that you will feel more beautiful. It is unfair. So, does that mean if your lover refuses to ditch the gaming then you will stop loving him? So if you don’t get that nose lift means that you would not find yourself pretty enough? What kind of love is that?

There is nothing wrong with enhancement. Just, try not to change anything that you were born with unless it will affect your health if not dealt with. Go on, say ‘Hey, Beautiful.’

O
Openly seek more about another

Remember when you are attracted to someone and you want to know everything that is to know about them? Likes. Dislikes. Family. Aspirations. Mistakes. Goals. Dreams. Hobbies. Passions. Interests. That is you seeking more of the beauty that you initially saw in that person. That is you seeking more of the wisdom or of what is more to be learned from him. Remember that feeling of being interested in everything that he was trying to say? How thick should a proper stilleto be? What codes should you use when you want to win Warcraft? Why those kind of ties are better than the others? Why that player is the underdog?

Honestly, would you freaking care if another person told you those things? Yet, with that person, it sounded important. It sounded like it mattered. It did matter. To you. To that person. Hallelujah.

With love, normally trivial things sound so beautiful and so important. That story about her being denied the chance to compete? Now, you know why she is so determined. That time when he told you how rude his customers were to him as he served them? No wonder he is so polite. Each story that is being uttered becomes a puzzle piece to his person. You pick up the pieces and fit it in the frame, smiling to yourself as you do. And you find yourself in front of a complete picture full of different pieces. And you found it astoundingly beautiful. And you found yourself pleasantly wiser and fuller as well.

V
Value the moment

There is this one quote in the movie Jupiter Ascending that I find more true than any other movie quote that I have ever heard. The only commodity that really matters is time.

Once it passes, it is gone. And we can only breathe for so long. Relish the present. Look around. Sniff the air. Stare into his eyes. Memorize that smile. Once that moment passes, it is gone and you just have to beg for your memory to retain it. That is what makes love for each person so unique. It is the memories that formed in the relationship. The memories are the differentiation between love for your parents to romantic love.

It is a discipline for most to be mindful of the present. It is an even more difficult discipline to find the positive and the beautiful in every moment even if it is a bad one. The both of you are shouting your mouths off? Hey, he cares enough to be angry. Be afraid of the day that he does not react when you do a mistake. He is sick and your date is cancelled? Guess what, grab that opportunity and bring some soup over and a movie too. Or maybe a video game. Make him better and make him happy. Aren’t you a sweetie?

E
Evolve

Love changes everything. The hard becomes soft. The soft becomes hard. The weak becomes strong. The strong becomes weak. To be in love is to accept that you are changing. You are changing for the better. You are evolving. You are preparing to accommodate more love and to give more love as well.

They say that girls bloom when they are in love. The boys exude more confidence and strength when in love. Love gives motivation a whole new meaning. Love lifts you up. Love makes you do incredible things. You can lift ten thousand men. You can fly around the world. You can beat Superman in armwrestling.

So, love is this incredible drug that makes you evolve and become better faster than any kind of steroid ever can. Love is the search of beauty and wisdom. Once you see it, you consume it until you find yourself beautiful and wise. Once you find love, in yourself and/or in others, you find yourself smiling at your reflection despite having that lump of morning glory clogged at the inner corner of your eye.

That is love. Beautiful and wise.
Now, if you decide to become a lover then you might as well learn the last letter.

R
Relationship Reciprocal

In the English language, adding an -r/-er to a verb makes it a noun that is defined as a doers of the original verb. So, a lover is a doer of love.

So, to be a lover, you need to reciprocate the love that you receive. Hello, congratulations, you are in a relationship. You give. You take. Because, if you do not then you are not a lover. You are just a recipient. A lovee, if there is such a term. And honestly, it will be tragic. No true love is unrequitedly in vain.

Love. Such a beautiful word. Lover. A more beautiful word. Are you in love? Would it be nice if we all were? Not just with someone. But with ourselves as well.

Happy Valentine’s Day to all! Tell me your thoughts. What are your ideas about love?

Loss and the English Dictionary

I just visited my uncle’s wake today. He was my father’s brother. It just gave me some thoughts.

I remember writing a short oneshot a few years back about mourning over a family member. I remembered writing it something like this;

People who lost their spouses are called ‘widows’.
Children who lost their parents are called ‘orphans’.
What do you call parents who lost their child?

It is a heartbreaking experience to bury the love of your life or your mom or dad. Yet, everyone has to go through it. It is part of the circle of life.

I believe it is every parent’s worst fear to bury their child. There is this unspeakable loss for the life that you gave. Imagine what a parent must go through? Had he lacked in taking care of the child? Had he did something to ultimately cause the death of their kid? Had he not given enough guidance?

Not everyone will experience that. Yet, it is much more heartbreaking to see the end of the life that you raised. A part of a parent’s soul goes with the child.

I find it quite unfair that there is no proper term in the English language for such a situation. Yet, I could understand why. The pain must be truly unspeakable for most deny it as a possible reality. Then again, a person becomes a parent then it becomes who they are. The loss of the child does not define that. A parent will always be a parent.

I find these thoughts of mine so unprecedented because I am still quite far from being a parent myself. It is my dream though. To be a mother and to be able to conceive children. It is also my fear. To not be able to conceive or worse is to fail at being a parent altogether.

What am I saying here? Just take care of yourselves and give your folks some credit. It is very true when they say that they only want your safety and happiness. For if you suffer, to them it is a fate worst than death.

#365Planes: A 2016 Daily Project

For one of my last posts for Blogtober last 2015, I made the decision of announcing that I will be doing a daily project for the next 365 days of 2016. I am already a week in and I could not be happier.

I will not be redundant and explain everything as to why I came up with that decision. Perhaps an overview would be enough. Art. Instagram. Book. Noah Scalin. Journal. Planes. Execution. There.

Why planes?

It does seem a bit of an obvious choice since I am a flight attendant by profession. Although the concept of flying became more to me than moving from point A to point B. I invested blood, sweat, tears just to have this career. I ditched friends, art, and companionship just to be here. I have never worked so hard for anything in my entire life.

My motivation was that there was no plan B. If I fail at becoming a flight attendant then I am screwed. My family was counting on me. I was pushed to be in the airline industry and nothing else. The travel would entertain me. The service would keep me excited. The benefits would make my family secure. I had so much to lose if I failed.

Planes. I guess it signifies how one works for something so hard. This was just not a simple “I wanna be” dream. The hard work and sacrifice that people go through just for the sake of their loved ones. It is a spectacle so pure and amazing that I could compare it to looking out of the airplane window and seeing the brightest blue sky littered with the purest white clouds. Postcard perfect.

We work for the take off. We struggle to maintain altitude. We fight through the turbulence. We soar through the skies. We prepare for the landing. We pray and we hope and we beg that we do not crash and burn during the whole process.

Once we reach touchdown, we sigh and smile. Mission accomplished. Then we check and will be surprised to see how much miles have we covered and how many places have we passed through. We were certainly not the same planes that took that take off roll. The skies have a certain magic that changes us.

#365Planes is for us that works hard and will work harder until we reach our destination. It is for us who fuel ourselves with our own stories and our own intentions. It is for us who uses that fuel to move up then forward.

#365Planes is for 2016. May this year guide us as we all soar to the heavens.

For this ongoing project, please do check out my Instagram at instagram.com/cavilleta

Prices and Priorities

Remember my last post about Christmas? Wherein I said that I’d said that I rather spend my holidays at home despite having the chance to spend, say, New Year in New York.

What I totally forgot was that my job does not honour holidays. So, I was wistfully thinking that I will spend my holidays at home while my brother (he’s a flight attendant too) told me we should spend New Year in New York. I declined. Believe me, it was a VERY tempting offer. It was a free trip to New York. All I had to do was work going there. And I can get to see the ball drop in celebration of the coming of 2016 at Times Square.

I declined. I only had one reason why. I can’t leave my parents at home alone on Christmas day. What I thought was a noble idea was something highly stupid.

I was scheduled to fly to Los Angeles on the 29th and come back on the 2nd of January. I will be working on New Year’s Day. I tried to work my way around it but there was no opportunity to drop the flight.

Why do I want to spend it at home so bad? Because I am so freaking scared to miss anything important. I experienced coming home from a long layover to the news that my grandfather died. I came home to the news that my dog died. I came home to the news that my father was sued. I see my folks go weaker everyday. I don’t want to miss a holiday with them because I don’t know if it will be their last. And I was not there. That I don’t know how could I accept it. Imagine that my grandfather died more than a year ago and I still could not forgive myself.

At least, I never missed a birthday. I worked during my own birthday. But, it was good. My brother arranged to work with me in that flight so that I won’t be alone.

I have listened to stories of dozens of other attendants missing important holidays, their kid’s recital, and deaths. It was the inevitable. But, it was something that I could not accept. I have successfully manipulated my schedule for the past two years. This is the first that I have failed. Who knows how many more times will I fail after that?

That is the price of the assumed prestige of jobs like ours. We can’t just go on an absence because we need to go to a PTA meeting. We can’t just call in sick. Even if we can, our conscience won’t allow it. Its part of the job. There are people depending on us. We, along with pilots, have to operate the flight because if we can’t go home then we have to bring those who will to their destination.

If I knew that I would be working, I should have just agreed to my brother and spend New Year in Time Square. At least, I will be with him and his girlfriend.

Nurses, along with doctors, have to work during the holidays because who will care for the patients. This is also a rant to those who still handle fireworks recklessly despite the numerous warnings. One misfire and you come rushing to the hospital, crying to your blown-up hand. Don’t you know that you just singlehandedly ruined your whole family’s holiday? While your nurse patches you up, he or she wishes for the opportunity that you just thrown away; to spend New Year away from the hospital.

Cheers and respect to them and to all public servants.

We all have to smile, be kind and courteous even if we want to scream our hearts out. I remember fighting the urge to have a breakdown whenever I see an elderly passenger during the time of my grandfather’s death. Bereavement leaves are only for immediate family members. And they only allow three days off. Yet, I go on as if nothing happened, internally disgusted by family members who won’t want nothing to do with their elderly. Many travel on their own, scared to be in the plane with no one to trust. Then it gets worst when I find out that no one will fetch them at the airport. You people don’t know what you are missing.

So, give us a break. I’m sure you have things hard in your life too. I’d rather that you tell me all about it than you blowing up your rage on me.

I’m still lucky. I have an awesome job. You’re still lucky. You’re watching the fireworks with your family. We still have things to be grateful for.

At The Moment

It has been awhile since I last posted here. I just came from a two-week layover. I am currently suffering from Aerotitis. (Take it from a frequent flyer, people. Never ride an airplane with a cold. It’s murder.) I could not breathe from my nose and I could not hear 70% of what’s happening around me. Besides that, it felt like my face is being drilled by a dozen screwdrivers.

So now that I am back home and away from single digit degree Celsius weather and from a scarcity of meds, I can now finally treat myself. Hurrah!

First of all, I deeply apologize to my Blogmas peeps for not being able to contribute to the challenge. Two, I am also sorry for my prolonged absence. Hopefully I will be able to get back on track soon.

Fingers crossed.. Achoo!
Excuse me.

Holiday Gift Ideas for Men

Ah! It is that time of the year again wherein we dish out our scouting skills for gifts to give for our loved ones. Welcome to the Christmas season!

Personally, I sometimes wish that I can only give my gal friends gifts. I can do all-out with stocking stuffers and, let us be honest, most commercial items are aimed towads women. We are the impulse buyers, not men. They are meant for investments. Just think of it. His nice cufflinks are worth more than your party statement dress.

The Blogmas challenge was that I share gift ideas under $50.00. To be honest, you can buy so many things for fifty dollars. Stocking stuffers? Go to Bath & Body Works. They’ll take care of you. So, I’m tackling something different… and harder. Gift ideas for men. I will try my best that these are the kind that don’t suck.

Stocking Stuffer Ideas

  1. Razors. Go to Costco or your local wholesale store and buy those things. If you need it then they need it more.
  2. White Hankerchiefs. Stay classy, people.
  3. Trail Mix. DIY it or buy by the bulk.
  4. Bowties. They’re cool. But not all like it. Be warned.
  5. Anything inside the CD case. Video game. Movie. Software. They’re bonkers for those stuff.
  6. Hair wax. The guys are the first to sport the “I-Woke-Up-Like-This” look.
  7. Altoids or the equivalent. Stay classy and fresh *wink*
  8. Socks or shoelaces. Tried, tested, and cliche. Last resort
  9. Funko Pop! Figures for the geek or fanboy in your life.
  10. Headphones or earphones.
  11. Baseball cap to represent the team of the sport enthusiast.
  12. Confirmed Netflix subscription for 2016 or the equivalent.
  13. Swiss army knife. Ooh, fancy tool skills.
  14. A year’s supply of condoms. For your boyfriend or that playboy friend of yours that won’t stick to one no matter how many times you tell him to do otherwise.
  15. Wallet. The thinner yet the more pockets the better.
  16. Tools. For the chef/ gardener/ mechanic/ whatever
  17. Fancy pen. Run to Parker or Cross for name engraving or go online for those specialty handcrafted ones.
  18. Movie tickets. Make it two. One for him. One for you.
  19. Manly scented soap or shampoo. No floral, please.
  20. Car. What? It’s a big stocking.

So, erm, hope that helps. Good luck! If you got more ideas, add them on in the comments! Happy shopping!

Christmas for the PH by the PH

I love living in the Philippines. No offense, I’m sure your country is awesome too.
We have the best, and I mean THE BEST, Christmas season in the whole world.
DISCLAIMER: I am a girl who refuses to watch the 2015 season of Cats the Musical in London even if I can and even if Nicole Scherzinger is playing the lead. That is because I don’t want to erase the memory of watching Lea Salonga portray Grizella when the musical came to the Philippines. I am a girl who refuses to use those great cosmetic brands from Sephora unless they don’t have a counterpart product at Happy Skin Philippines. I am a girl that has the complete discography of Urbandub, Up Dharma Down, Eraserheads, and Sponge Cola (all local artists) beside the albums of Coldplay, The Script, Queen, and Lady Gaga on my mp3 player. So, like how I expressed in my previous post, I am highly biased to anything Filipino.

This I say to you. I am NOT biased when I say that we have the best Christmas. Officially, the Christmas season here starts in the middle of September until halfway through February the following year. You read it, people. We celebrate Christmas for half a year. Even if it is Valentine’s Day, it is still Christmas! The season starts at the 100-day countdown to Christmas Day and ends when no one is talking about or celebrating Christmas anymore which happens by halfway to the end of February.

Why is Christmas the BEST in the PH

1. We have exclusive Christmas season delicacies
2. We have lights everywhere
3. We have our own version of the Christmas lantern
4. We have an international festival dedicated to that lantern
5. Christmas bazaars everywhere
6. Pop-up Christmas theme locations
7. Parties everywhere
8. Singing and concerts everywhere
9. The cheap becomes cheaper
10. Exclusive (I think) Christian traditions
11. Gifts, gifts, gifts, gifts.

I could make a whole set of blog entries out of the Filipino Christmas season. Hm, I’ll do just that!

Now, you see why I love Christmas more than my own birthday?
As a Filipino, it may be weird but NONE of the items above can define why I love Christmas. Although, it may help but Christmas has a different meaning for me.

When I was a child, I would sit by our Christmas tree at home. Just that. I like how tall it was compared to my height. I like how the decorations were placed on the plastic leafy branches. What I like best were the fairy lights snaking up and around the tree. I would squint my eyes and stare into the lights until they appeared blurred and bursting. Then, I would pretend that they were stars. I would sometimes reach to hold the light and pretend that I was touching an actual star. There were times when I would not squint my eyes but still hold the tiny light bulb between my index finger and thumb. I would fascinate myself with how red my fingertips would look like due to the translucence of my own skin. Then, I would pretend that I had fire powers.

When I was a child, I always get excited when it was already time to decorate the house. It was not like I involved myself in the theme and planning. My mom was part of that. I was already happy with opening the box of decorations or with handing to my Mom the specific flower decoration that she needed to attach to the staircase wreath. If I was lucky, I would be given the task of spreading those thin icicle like confetti around the Christmas tree branches, making sure that it looked evenly distributed.

When I was a child, I was excited whenever we would go to the mall. It was not because we can go Christmas shopping. We were brought up with the mentality of not buying what we wanted. I was excited because we will get to see the Christmas decorations in the mall and the costumed attendants and the Christmas section of the home department of the mall.

When I was a child, I was excited for the yearly clan reunion. It was the only time of the year that I get to see my cousins and aunts and uncles. We would eat homemade catered dinner, play party games, and sing.

When I was a child, I was excited for Christmas Eve (The Filipino equivalent of Christmas morning). At the strike of twelve, the whole family would eat the grand feast that our parents made for us while watching a holiday TV special or a movie. Then, we would go to the Christmas tree and open our presents. Then, we would sleep and when we wake up then we eat the leftover Christmas meal and go out of the house.

When I was a child, I was excited to sit at the window seat of any vehicle. I always kept my eye out for the Christmas lights decorated on the houses and street lamps as we pass by.

A decade later, I am still excited. Christmas is important to me because it was the time of the year that I am forcefully reminded that I am still a child. I am a child that still lets her mind wander. I am a child that still gets fascinated by lights and colors. I am a child that still looks forward to the company of family. I am a child that still loves the simple things.

That is what Christmas is to me. It is the season that amplifies who I am as a person. I still get tingles whenever I read stories and listen to music. I still get amused at accent colors and the latest Christmas themes. Even I can spend Christmas in London or watch the ball drop in Times Square, NY during New Year’s Eve, as long as there is a family waiting for me at home then I will be spending Christmas and New Year at home. I just pray that I would stay the same during the next and the next holiday season.

Do you feel the same about Christmas? What does Christmas mean to you? What are the best parts of your holiday rituals? Tell me all about it.

First Impressions

I spent a day once with a pair of middle-aged male  in London once. One of them, I had flown with before while the other was a good friend of his which was a pilot from our company. I decided to tag along with them when my  expressed his intention to look for a street Tardis. It was rare to find a fellow Whovian in the Philippines let alone in the same company so I decided to go with him. His buddy happily joined us. After successfully finding the Tardis and having other small adventures, we ended the day in the pub near our hotel. You know how pub talk goes. Our topics went from Doctor Who to porn to Star Wars to finding love to the aviation history to meeting new people.

So, why am I bringing this up? The pilot asked me of my first impression of him. I said that I don’t do first impressions. He told me that I should make first impressions especially that I work with different people everyday. It gives a precaution of how I should act towards them.

I asked him what was his first impression of me. He said that he thought that I was an independent woman that does not take ‘no’ for an answer. It apparently showed my age as I was too idealistic and naive to not judge people at first glance. I accepted his answer then he shared to us that most people, especially girls, think of him as a ladies’ man on first sight.

So why am I bringing this up? Earlier today, I read a post by the fantastical Sidney Aldaine about what do people think about when they encounter people for the first time. It reminded me of that incident.

That is exactly why I don’t do first impressions. Grammatically, a first impression is one’s idea on another person based on instinct even with the definite lack of evidence. I don’t do first impression because it is the basest form of judgment.

Judgment is very deadly in forming a relationship with another person. It is unfair to a person who is given a first impression because he is forced to prove the one giving the impression wrong without him knowing it. Because, to be frank, how many times did your first impression become right?

It is in the word itself. Impression. It is like you’re giving the person the task to impress you within the first five seconds of you looking at him. Who are you to be made an impression for?

How many times in my young life have I seen the most sour faces to have the most beautiful hearts? How many times have I seen the most well-dressed to have the most foul of attitudes? How many times have I seen the youngest to be the most matured?

I watch people. I look for details and mannerisms. It takes time but that is how I make a hypothesis of what the person is about. Then I ask the person about himself, noting to myself that I was right or wrong. I am pleasantly surprised when my hypothesis is right. I become more intrigued when I am wrong, pressing the person with more questions.

What do I see when I see a person for the first time? I look for distinguishable facial features so that I can remember them the possible future that I see them again. Then, I check out their clothes. If I like it, I take note for fashion inspiration the next time that I need to dress up. If not then, okay. If it floats their boat, who am I to sink it? Then that is it.

I am not picky with friends and acquaintances. Everyone has their own story to tell. If they express their intention to be more than friends then that is a different story altogether.