My name is Jocelle Dela Cruz, a law student in Polytechnic University of the Philippines and the author of the blog "The Legally Blunt". I was born on a hazy day of August 23, 1991. I have small yet tantalizing eyes, aquiline nose, fair complexion and an average built of height and weight. My family and other relatives are fond of calling me Jocelle, but I prefer Jhay-cee. I grew up in a populous yet lively neighborhood in Tatalon, Quezon City.
I best describe myself in 3 C's -- Courageous, Capable and Crazy! I know that perfection doesn't exist in this world but I always make sure that everything I do is out of my 100% effort because in all means, my name is at stake. I enjoy reading mystery novels from authors like Sidney Sheldon, John Grisham and James Patterson. I am also very fond of romantic-comedy movies. Becoming a lawyer was at first my Mom's dream for but as I go along the journey, I learned to love and claim it! I decided to put up this blog to share how it's like to be a one hot crazy law student chic.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
Date an Immature guy they said, It will be fun they said ...
You should date an immature guy. You can find them in every size, shape, colour, and age anyway. Don't even be surprised if your immature guy is in his 30's and you are his lesser in age by a half a decade or more. Age is no real determining factor for the man plagued with unprecedented, eternal immaturity. You can find them in all sorts of places. At blockbuster, on his bike, at the corner store buying a bag of chips, or by the lake, mindlessly skipping rocks in to the water. But chances are you'll probably meet him at a pub, when you're already drunk and willing to cut him just enough slack for being so inept (only because it makes for a better excuse later down the road when you find yourself sitting completely shell-shocked at the realization that you’ve been grueling over a child trapped in the heavy guise of a man, or even worse, bewildered over the fact that you always knew this but chose to live in denial).
To date him, you won't have to worry about finding him; because he'll find you. So just sit around looking pretty, playfully sipping your martini with your girlfriends until you catch the sharp glare of his vacant, shark-like eyes lingering on the sight of your bosom from across the room. As he approaches notice how his stare moves in a perfunctory fashion towards the space between your eyes, in an attempt to grab your attention, since, the immature guy will never really look you in the eye. A simple gesture such as eye contact is beyond the scope of his interaction. Or perhaps, somehow, deep beneath all of his boyishness is a soul who knows it’s terminally condemned to a lackluster existence just aching to break free of it but in full acknowledgement that it never ever happen. One would hope for the latter, since it might imply even the slightest level of pre-conventional moral reasoning. Either way, it doesn’t change his nature. When he comes over to talk to you, immediately allow your brain to fog over and become absent from any thought, motivation or inspiration. Get used to this state, practice it. This will make you appear mildly interested instead of coming across as a total bitch, when he blurts out his generic pick up line probably related to what type of drink you have or how pretty your earrings look in the light. In those painstaking moments when he first opens his mouth to woo you, there is only one thing you have to remember to survive the conversation without feeling the compelling urge to throw your drink in his face:
Forget all about yourself.
Forget all about your own wants and desires, standards, ideals and pretty pink childhood fantasies about meeting Prince Charming and marrying him in a beautiful field of grass on the most blissfully perfect, sunny day. Give up the dreams of living happily ever after with your one and only soul mate, having a family and passing down mutual wisdom and deep insights to your children as they grow up and you both watch them, hand in hand, as lead they blossom in their own successful lives, following in the footsteps of their parents.
Forget about these things, goddamit, because all of your efforts at this point in the night will need to be siphoned in to stroking his ego. Stroke his ego with the same vigorous efforts that you'd put in to rubbing out a fresh red wine stain on your favorite white satin blouse. When he opens his mouth to speak, bend in a little closer and flash your cleavage as he begins to tell you about every single fucking high school sport he used to be play. Make eye contact and bat your lashes while he explains, in his best possible diction, why he ended up studying some random subject in University because he has no real intellectual interests and doesn't actually know what he wants to do with his life. Touch his arm lightly when he mentions his mother and how terribly close he is to her. Giggle and make a comment about how cute that is. *Take note about how you feel when he says this one particular statement.* Keep stroking. Allow him your number and the very next day when he calls to ask you out for dinner, agree, and repeat the aforementioned. This time, keep stroking well in to the night, until he's all stroked out, and falls asleep in your arms. Cook him delicious meals and eventually this guy will realized you've satisfied his every need; to be praised for his mediocre sense of humor and wit, pleasured, coddled and fed. At this point he'll think of you as the golden girl of his dreams.
I use the seemingly contradictory terms “immature” and “man” together because the “immature man” is in a constant, dichotomous internal struggle to balance his highly elevated testosterone levels with his incompetent inability to put it to any good use. He assumes getting a girlfriend/wife to sport around on his arm and make his parents proud is all that he needs to exert his manliness. You’ll eventually find this man vying for all of your quality time and consuming it with his own dilapidation. Prepare yourself for countless upon countless of hours of mindless TV watching and sports commentary. Don’t expect to engage in any meaningful conversations during commercials about how much of a rip off it all is or how much of a waste of time it is that you’ve spent watching TV. In fact, don’t be surprised if you never engage in any meaningful conversations at all and eventually find yourself forgetting what it even feels like to mindfully connect with another person, as you’re consciousness slowly freezes over and your heart grows numb.
Never mind any of those depressing things because you’ll have absolutely no time to wallow in self-pity. While he is busy playing his video games, or going to the gym, or doing chin ups in the doorway, you’ll find yourself running around like Martha Stewart trying to make your lives normal and livable, tend to the house, work a 9-5 job, consuming your thoughts and energy with what you two will eat for dinner that night, and then trudging, your sore, tired feet to the grocery store after work every other day after printing out recipes at the office. In your lamentable state, your memory will sudden flash back to the painstaking moment when he first told you how close he was to his mother. It will suddenly all make sense to you that the feeling you had when he disclosed that information wasn’t your heart fluttering by the thought of how cute that is and how much you’d fallen for him. It was actually a tiny, little red flag flapping violently within you, like a pirate’s flag amass a large ship coursing through a treacherous hurricane in the high seas. This is when you realize that the immature man only became a man long enough to secure you in his life as a symbol of maturity to replace his mother thereby making him appear less “immature” in his superficial, highly egotistical macho mentality. So don’t pine over the fact that you’ll find yourself having to pull all of the weight in the relationship, manning both the duties of grocery shopping, cooking to feed his large wolf-like appetite (as he insists his work-out regiment absolutely most imperatively NEEDS to contains X amount of protein), cleaning the bathroom because he pays no attention to detail, and setting up every household account since he has absolutely zero concept of responsibility or taxes for that matter. Be prepared to be the only one planning all of your social events, anniversaries, and host dinner parties in which YOU are the one left sweating your ass off in the kitchen while he kicks back on the couch with a beer and gleams at you from the corner of his eye when his best friend is watching as if to show you off the whole world. Assign him a few foolproof tasks like taking out the garbage and calling the television company when the cable signal goes out so he feels like a man (I never said to stop stroking) to avoid unnecessary domestic disputes. Spend ridiculous amounts of hours in the same room never picking each others brains, never challenging his point of view, or contemplating the meaning of life. Don’t be surprised if you’ve become more familiar with which teams made the playoffs and which players have been benched because of injuries more so than what’s currently going on in the Middle East.
You will be so wrapped up in this existence that you wont even realize that you’ve lost your soul. It will take you months of being engulfed in obsessive, materialistic activities such as online shopping before you realize that the last thing that made you feel any sort of thrill, devastatingly, was the pair of shoes you found for a good deal on EBay. By this point, you’ll be so far gone you wont even remember what it’s like to feel any sort of genuine, feeling, be it true passion or pain. You wont even realize that the immature guy sucked the light out of you, the inspiration and the creativity, until you, like a transformer, become a stoic, empty, shell of a woman.
Whatever you do, don’t keep tabs, because if you do you’ll realize you have far more points than he does and therefore are being severely taken advantage of. It seems horrible, but it’s easy to do. And don’t worry because life will be ok. You will survive to the end and fulfill basics desires you know, such as fitting in to society, having kids, and dying old with a companion. Everything will be OK as long as you just stop thinking, feeling, and most importantly, stroke away, stroke away…
Stick to dating immature guys and never EVER date a man who has grown up psychologically. A numb, meaningless, soulless waste of a lifetime where you reluctantly are forced to call all the shots, make all the decisions, and maintain a reputably status in society for the both of you with an immature guy is better than dating the man who has grown up. Here’s why. The man who has grown up, in all his rarity, will bulldoze his way in to every area and aspect of your life, both mentally and physically. He will do this because he’s actually aware of the fact that you there are other planes to your existence between the mounds on your chest and the vast space between your eyes. You will no longer be able to live with your current, untouched belief systems because from the moment he comes in to your periphery, he will infiltrate your mental space, stroking your ego and picking your brain, until he’s got a pretty solid idea of all of your own person doctrines, theories, and mantras and has already imposed his own perspective on it. Not only will he have a pretty good ability to figure you out, he’s got himself figured out. He knows what he wants and he’s not afraid to say it. This unique attribute in itself will shock you and leave you speechless. He has no time for television and he knows about what’s going on in sports but he isn’t obsessed with it and furthermore, his gotten over his childhood fantasy of becoming a pro baseball player because he’s actually in tune with his own strengths and abilities and has already accepted the fact that he’s better at crunching numbers than chasing balls. The mature guy has an acute awareness of you’re needs, and of the mutual give and take of a relationship. He’ll surprise you with his acute awareness of balancing responsibilities, effort, and energy spent on love-making.
The man who has grown up will permanently taint your memory of all the other boys you’ve ever dated, younger or older in age, blasting them far off in to outer space never to return to your mind or heart. He will raise the bar well above average, officially casting away a large sum of the rest of the men on this planet by heightening your awareness of their immaturity, their bullshit lines, and stark stares. He may leave you speechless as to what you actually want and desire. Above all else, he’ll consume you with desire. He will open your eyes and change your vision. He will challenge your current beliefs. He’ll listen to you, actually listen to you, and then he’ll have something to say about it. He will open your eyes up to ideas, feelings, and thoughts, you solely believed could never be shared. The way he makes you feel will have you questioning your own sanity. This will drive you insane. He will sear his way in to your mind, memory and heart. I could go on, but hey, I'll just date an immature guy instead.
And so, you will no longer be able to accept the life I described above.
Don’t date the man who has grown up for one simple reason: He will change life and dating as you know it and you’ll never give in to stroking the immature guy’s –anything- ever again. So as Charles Warnke, would say “So out with you girl [guy] who reads [is mature]… I hate you. I really, really, really hate you.”.