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?

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OOTD: Fangirl Mode

Doing something light and casual today. It has been a long time since I posted an outfit post so I hope you guys like it.

Geek chic OOTD

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Outfit Deets:
Shoes by Forever 21
Pants by Factorie
Shirt by Marvel
Bag by Kate Spade
Watch by Swatch
Sunglasses by Carrera
Lipstick by Maybelline
Earphones by Coloud
Bracelet (personal)

So there. Hope you like it!

The Definition of Passion

‘Passion’ is my favorite word in the English language.

I won’t cite a Webster definition. You all know what passion means. So, why am I writing a post about the meaning of passion? Blame CBTL for that. I read a passage from my 2016 journal and there came the thought.

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I fell in love with the word when I was still a college student. Mix intelligence with angst and put a dash of smart mouth and you get yourself a teen that defends everything that he or she thinks was right. That was basically me.

I would prove my point in debates with others to the extent that I sound angry. I would always excuse myself and say that I was not angry and was just passionate about the idea. It was not that I was forcing people to believe me and support my cause. I was more in the context of making them understand what I was coming from.

I pride myself in having a strong set of morals. I cannot be bought easily. I  try my utmost to keep my promises and admit my failure if I did otherwise. I do things on my own. I keep quiet about my achievements. I do not gossip. Do not waste. Family comes first. Those are my unbreakables.

I recall a time when my Management professor asked me if I would seal a deal with a potential business partner which will greatly benefit my business in the long run if I change things according to what they wanted. I remember answering that if it does not stand with my business ethics and morals then I would agree. I was then questioned for sacrificing the sake of my business for a set of morals. I stood my ground. I told him that I would not be bought that easily and I would not sacrifice my loyalties. He called me too young and too idealistic. I was bound to change my mind when I get older and when I get to see how the real world outside the classroom works.

Four years later, I saw how ugly business life could be. I saw what the real world outside the classroom was like. My answer still does not change. Call me too young and too idealistic all you want. I call myself passionate.

I had a male friend who would translate the Filipino word ‘malibog’ into ‘passionate’. As much as I deny to admit, it made some sense but being passionate is more than that. FYI, ‘malibog’ means being erotically-inclined e.g. spilling out green jokes, being all touchy and grope-y, have an interest in anything sexually related blah blah blah.

There is a reason after all why most authors would describe erotic scenes with phrases like ‘and they fell into their incessant passion, a mix of sweat and gasps muffled by flesh and sheets.’ (my words, btw. It is just an example.) Passion is the subject wherein all logic is lost and wherein sense and instinct come in. Obviously, the connection is there.

For me, passion is more. It is so much more. Being passionate comprises the entirety of one’s being. Be passionate about something and all logic flies out of the window. You don’t realize that it happens until your logic comes back through the door and collides with you like a punch to the brain. Yeap, not the skull, the brain.

Ever felt about something so strong that you would do your utmost to keep it and protect it?  Ever felt that your purpose was finally discovered and you would be damned if you just ignore it and walk on as if nothing happened? Ever felt the realization that you would be sacrificing much for something and yet you do it anyway? Ever felt so strongly for something that you would make sure that you achieve it or see your goal accomplished no matter what?

This is not only about love. This is not only about hate. Remember the thin line between those two? That thin line is called passion. Love someone so much that one mistake can send you plummeting back onto solid ground with nothing but resentment. Hate someone so much that you will do much to destroy that person and make sure he is yours. The thin line is a dangerous thing. Cross over and all you know disappears. Things like this can only be found in stories. But is it not reality a story?

Passion keeps you driving to your destination. Passion fuels your body to continue to work. Passion is that nagging feeling that burns in your gut when you do otherwise.

Being passionate is losing regard of your rationality and just relying on your instinct. Once it knows what it wants, it hires rationality back in to help him do its dirty work which is to keep you moving.

I barely make any sense. As I reread this post, I could easily see how my thoughts are scrambled as I try to say everything at once. I guess that is what passion does. It tries everything to get you across.

Passion is my favorite word because it describes me as a person. My pride has saved me countless of times wherein I would make wise and firm decisions just because ‘my pride would not allow myself to do it otherwise’. This is not ‘sin’ pride. This is ‘moral’ pride. It is the offspring of my passion and my sense of morality. Good with a pinch of danger. I sound like a misguided comic book hero.

Once I believe, my intentions would not falter. I would fight to the end. That is passion.

Inspiration and The Lack Thereof

I know that I have not been writing in awhile. I don’t know what I should write. I don’t know about anything worth writing. I wanted to write about my thoughts but I thought that it might sound childish if all I did was talk about myself. I wanted to write about my travel experiences as I did notice that travel blogs are the new thing. I might get a lot of readers. Then again, I don’t know how to execute. I wanted to write about life but I did not want to sound so depressing.

I went to work yesterday. I had to work with a fellow attendant who is a good friend of mine. She and I had a lot in common. She also has her own blog. Go check it out. It is not your typical lifestyle and travel blog. If my writing  has any worth to anyone out there then go on ahead and thank her. She was one of my motivation to start writing again which resulted in this blog.

Anyway, we talked about our common love (I refuse to call it as obsession) for Harry Potter. Besides that, the topic steered towards our life and work relationships. Then, it, in my opinion, brought us closer as friends. I envy her a bit before to be honest. She was just this free and uncaring thing that would make me look at myself and realize how controlled I was as a person. But then again, if she could do it then why can’t I? That is because I have people to protect and prioritize first.

This C.A. Villeta alter ego is already a stretch for me. My dear friend, if you are reading this, I beg of you not to reveal my true identity. I can’t handle that yet. Call me a coward but that is it. Talk about being a Gryffindor.

Anyway, I wanted to continue this blog. I really do. So, I started to interview her on how she did it. I did learn a lot. The most striking part of our conversation was as follows…

Her: How is life?
Me: Boring.
Her: That is not possible because you are not a boring person. (That was honestly the sweetest thing that anyone had said to me in a long time.)
Me: Then how would you call it?
Her: Uneventful
Me: So I am an uneventful? Is that not the same thing as boring?
Her: Not uneventful. I would say that not much things happen in your life.
Me: Same thing.
Her: ‘Uneventful’ is not really an appropriate adjective to describe a person.
*We started laughing*
Me: How do you do it? How do you come up with things to write about?
Her: When life happens then I blog.
Me: Then I must be so boring.

Then she talks about how she started her blog. I had to cut her off because I knew how. I knew what her social media posts meant. She told me all of it before. She forgot, apparently. Yet, silly me forgot the actual name of her blog when it was so painstakingly obvious. She talked about her experiences with whatever it was that was the closest that she could do in matters of blog promotion. She also talked about her most successful series, Single Girl Diaries.

I did not tell her that I write a blog as well. Part of me was embarrassed because I have been doing a foul job at it. Part of me was still clinging to the self-preservation that no one must know my true identity. And here I am talking about being myself. I am such a hypocrite. Then again, I am a big mess of contradictions. I recently posted a true life short story on Medium and I sent the link to the person in question. Now, I am writing this and throwing my shield up for her to know who I am. What a mess.

So, main point is I am writing again. Hopefully for the long haul. When life happens then she blogs. I guess I was looking for some majestic breakthrough in mine so that I could have the motivation to write again. That conversation must be it.

How will I do it? How will I come up with things to write about?
I have not the slightest idea.
For now, I will just write.
I will write even if it is just gibberish like this post right here.
I will write until I write something that matters.
I will write until the gibberish matters.
I hope.

It feels good to type again, to be honest.
To my dear friend, thank you. And yes, I think you are right. You should write more. There are people counting on your work. Count me as one of them.

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.

Jack’s Pile by C.A. Vileta

I have done a recent achievement. I have joined Becoming Writer’s Annual Writing Contest. It is a contest that requires the participant to submit a 1,500 word story about the year’s theme, creatives.

My work is now published on their site and I could not be happier. Well, I’ll be happier if I won the contest of course.

My official entry can be found on the link. Please do put in your two cents. It would be much much appreciated.

 

Source: Jack’s Pile by C.A. Vileta

#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!