nang dahil sa Ms. Universe

Matagal na 'tong nasa draft mode and can't think of anything to write anymore :)

I caught the telecast of Ms. Universe 2008 last night. I know, I know, I’m one week late already, but it’s been like that for me the past couple of months. I didn’t even realize The Hulk was already showing until last week also. Talk about delayed :)

I remember eagerly trying to catch beauty pageants back when I still had a lot of time on my hands, waiting for the Q&A portion and attempting to answer the judges’ questions. I would laugh out loud at contestants who give seemingly stupid answers but knowing deep down, I wouldn’t have a better answer had we switched places. But the questions would keep knawing at me and I just have to get up in front of the mirror and practice my should-be answers :)

I also remembered the days when my sister and I would try on my mom’s clothes – high heels, dresses, office clothes, accessories, make-up, whatever we can lay our hands on – and parade up and down our hallway, pretending as if we were newly-crowned beauty queens.

Didn’t we all have that fantasy? That we were someone else? That we live a different life from the life we currently have? That, as kids, we wish we were older, looked more glamorous, had jobs, had money to buy what we want. We despised having to pretend-nap every afternoon and hated having someone else tell us what to do when we *think* we know what’s best for us. I remember our “barkada” writing a hate letter to one of our playmates, without even understanding what the curse words really meant.

Do I still wish I was someone else? At times, admittedly, yes. Out of longing, jealousy, frustration over what my life is able to offer, disappointment at myself, for various reasons, really. Do I wish I was older? Hmm… I think I am old. It’s funny how we thirst at the thought of growing up and end up hating our childhood fairies for not being as indulgent as we hoped they would be, yet a time comes when we’re simply forced to grow up and we get thrown out of our 20-something comfort zone. It’s a perfect example of too many things happenings at one time. Too many what ifs. Too many what could have beens. How do you deal?

I can’t speak for everybody, but I’m happy I’m old. Maybe the growing up happened too fast too soon, but maybe it was necessary. Maybe it was even high time. And the what could have beens? They won’t remain could-have-beens, I promise myself that. I refuse to label them as such. I’ll still get them :) All in due time :)