Are we raising generations of bimbos?

Single blessedness is not always fun. Once I had a bumper sticker on my emails - Being single is being like a vacuum cleaner, it sucks when you are turned on. Friends and relatives would kid me around, and you know how those jokes come across as being half-meant- why am I still single. Even my exes ask me that so sometimes I always had a perfect answer for that, either I haven't found anyone that might be worth getting serious, and chances are those I actually connected at some level are too transient for a grounded, serious relationship. If that explanation fails, a shrug and a noncommittal smile should work.

And that's a major reason why I dread attending weddings. They always want to pry into your own dating career.

With so many beautiful faces everywhere, there is a dearth of people that actually has something beyond that beautiful shell from the outside- when all they have inside are hollow sick excuse for a human being. People who couldn't say anything substantial beyond their appearances. You see them everywhere- online, offline and heck, maybe in-between. It is just plainly sad. I remembered, back in the uni, I modeled twice for a hair care product, we went clubbing afterwards. I was particularly interested with this pretty young thing, and I was so engaged in a conversation- and then the shock happened after the thing opened her mouth- "You are so intelligent!" I, mean, come on- I was talking right here, expecting to get something out of you, maybe actually listen- throw me a freaking bone! And it goes the same almost everywhere- it was a sad realization that while we can have the most beautiful people around, there is nothing going on up there. And the sadder part? There are actually people who looked like idiots hamming it up in the cameras thinking they were freaking gorgeous. God, what has metrosexuality brought upon this scourge upon us. Surf through the social networking sites, you'd notice that there are these sluts splashed their *shiny, happy face photos*, thinking that if they get the camera angle right, they could make it to the next Sunday's issue of the Lifestyle section. That's hot, but sorry sweetie, you are not gonna be the next big thing. Men, straight or otherwise are not exempt either, with half naked photos of torsos- dude, those love handles aint gonna disappear even if you sucked it in hard enough. This bimbo phenom was echoed by my friends everywhere, especially the expatriates. One goes, "The problem here is that there are too many beautiful women but they don't have anything to say." Wont it be nice to have a conversation before and after sex and to wake up to realize that you have just made love to a human person that can actually think and speak?

My point is through this whole rant: nothing really but to bemoan the fact that the whole dating market out there is plagued by walking zombies, train wrecks, dolled up faces with the lights turned off. God, if there is one, please rescue me from this banal superficiality.

I had given up on the whole drama, the whole love shebang for now. I always said, when love comes, it will manifest in its own weird way. Having been through hell and back, getting into a relationship much less maintaining one is not all about bed of roses- it is not always a walk through the park during rain, holding hands and staring at each other eyes. It is about maintaining a bond that goes deeper than the facade of every person, it goes beyond the small whims, and the grand madness of it all.

As I wade through life, I've been fortunate at least to be with the best and the worst- each, teaching me that there is more to life than chasing dreams, but actually living those dreams each day. I started writing this entry with nothing in mind but the complaint that there are such slim pickings out here, some might accuse me for setting my standards way too high, tell me - nice smile, nice eyes, good attitude, availability, a healthy sense of humor, and a good dose of intellect - is that so much to ask? Or as I feared it, we have raised a generation of bimbos reared on cheap evening tabloid newscast, soap operas, variety shows and video arcades?

This blog has been long overdue I guess, I am taking a short breather from my other usual posts. I had been in the doldrums lately, swimming through the undercurrents of future, present and past relationship mishaps. Who knows, I might get lucky? But hell, for now, let me grab that martini and make you a toast, to the words of Drunk Daniel, "Tomorrow, my friend, is another day."