Christmas is close, peeps. I just remembered the movie The Holiday with Cameron Diaz, Kate Winslet, Jude Law, and Jack Black <3.
I have found almost everything ever written about love to be true. Shakespeare said “Journeys end in lovers meeting.” Oh! What an extraordinary thought. Personally, I have not experienced anything remotely close to that, but I am more than willing to believe Shakespeare had. I suppose I think about love more than anyone really should. I am constantly amazed by its sheer power to alter and define our lives. It was Shakespeare who also said “love is blind”. Now that is something I know to be true. For some quite inexplicably, love fades; for others love is simply lost. But then of course love can also be found, even if just for the night. And then, there’s another kind of love: the cruelest kind. The one that almost kills its victims. Its called unrequited love. Of that I am an expert. Most love stories are about people who fall in love with each other. But what about the rest of us? What about our stories, those of us who fall in love alone? We are the victims of the one sided affair. We are the cursed of the loved ones. We are the unloved ones, the walking wounded. The handicapped without the advantage of a great parking space! Yes, you are looking at one such individual. And I have willingly loved that man for over three miserable years! The absolute worst years of my life! The worst Christmas’, the worst Birthday’s, New Years Eve’s brought in by tears and Valium. These years that I have been in love have been the darkest days of my life. All because I have been cursed by being in love with a man who does not and will not love me back. Oh god, just the sight of him! Heart pounding! Throat thickening! Absolutely can’t swallow! All the usual symptoms.
I know. Sappy. But I was able to catch Madam’s attention for 10 minutes with it.

Lately, I’ve been following Manuel Quezon III’s twitter account. I love it. Lots of quotes that would remind you of how life is. And here it is:
Perhaps love is a minor madness. And as with madness, it’s unendurable alone. The one person who can relieve us is of course the sole person we cannot go to: the one we love. So instead we seek out allies, even among strangers and wives, fellow patients who, if they can’t touch the edge of our particular sorrow, have felt something that cuts nearly as deep.
By Andrew Sean Greer
Check out his blog for more other insights or his tumblr account.
I’m currently reading Karen Moning’s new book, Shadowfever. Just in a couple of pages and I found this quite enticingly true. Pardon the cynic in me.
It’s funny the things people say when someone dies. He’s in a better place. How do you know that? Life goes on. That’s supposed to comfort me? I’m excruciatingly aware that life goes on. It hurts every damned second. How lovely to know it’s going to continue like this. Thank you for reminding me. Time heals. No, it doesn’t. At best, time is the great leveler, sweeping us all into coffins. We find ways to distract ourselves from the pain. Time is neither scalpel nor bandage. It is indifferent.
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I have sincerely admired Tom and Lynette Scavo of the Desperate Housewives. It is most probably because Lynette is quite strong and she still tries to work at home and admit how her children drive her to crazy highway but still she loves them to bits. It is also how Tom and Lynette has gotten over the adversity in life – from her Cancer, her in laws, and Tom’s illegitimate child.
In Season 7, the team behind Desperate Housewives introduces a new girl in town. Think of it as a replacement of Eddie, Renee played by Vanessa Williams (who played as Wilhelmina Slater of Ugly Betty) who was Lynette’s frenemy back in college. Who apparently slept with Tom 20 years back!
So in Episode 12, Lynette learns about Tom’s one night with Renee and finally confronts it by doing indirect jabs – ripping pants, too much salt in his coffee, dismantling Lazy Boys. When Tom discovers that Lynette has discovered, they were testing each other on Lynette’s freshly baked brownies full of laxative which resulted to Lynette finally voicing out what she felt on the whole incident.
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A kiss strikes like lightning; love passes like a storm.
Things you get from a little lovin’ of an Italian chocolate