We've heard it said: Behind every man's success or failure is a woman. And we see it everyday unfolding right before our eyes. That muscular organ underneath our left chest only weighs about 11 ounces, and yet, it is the most uncontrollable thing in our body once it starts to beat for another person; be it hate or love.

A friend of mine falls for the wrong woman; he won't admit it, but early in the game I know he got swooped into the vortex of the affairs of the heart; confusing love with lust, the constant aloneness in an empty home now suddenly decorated with the presence of a young, vivacious girl who made him believe (again) that he is alive and needed after all. Of course, we all crave attention and we badly need affirmation, so I understand all this insanity that is going on right now in his life. All his friends can see it---he is being used for his money. And I am guilty because I once gave him my permission and told him that if he can live with that knowledge, then ignore all of "us" his friends and go for it. But it's hard to watch from the sideline how he is like a dumb lamb being led to slaughter.

All his friends rally around to attend and affirm him, but seems like attention and affirmation is not enough after all; the heart is still discontented even though it's situated right below the head and way above the groin. So I come to conclude that there's no explanation good enough to articulate why the head can't overrule the heart, except, that God did not allow enough blood for both the head and that thing between our legs to function at the same time.

I am about to crawl out of my skin from boredom. It's 10 a.m. Friday morning and I can't make up my mind on what to do; should I get in the truck and head out to see the redneck, call a friend and have lunch or go back to bed and feast on more Netflix.

I don't ever tell the redneck about when or what time I am coming to see him because I don't want to hear about his disappointment or frustration when I change my mind and turn around, half way there. He keeps telling me that he loves me  "for all that you are, you're crazy as a bug with a mood that can swing on a dime, but my goodness, you can get so frustrating at times."  Oh hell. I guess I live my life frustrating people and boring myself to death.

Chat gets back and detoxing is over.

Today is my 4th day of detoxing. I will try to finish the week without meat at all. Now, don't get me wrong about this detoxing idea---I am not living on juice alone, like how a real detox plan are normally done. I was and always a bread eater and I can go through the whole week without a full meal as long as I have bread. So maybe, I cheated a little.

Chat told me that if she catch me doing another selfie, she'd shoot herself. Well, this time I told her "I'm just trying to  "get the Anna Wintour hard look" (which by the way fascinates me)  she says: No, mom, you need to get a real job.  How rude.

I need to detox. Badly. But living with Chat, that's impossible to do. She's travelling all week this week so I'm doing my own version of detox. Soup and juices, no meat. But I have to flavor my soup with either, pork/chicken/beef or it would be too radical for me to even try without. Here's Kimchi soup.

I have been wanting some deer meat because I've tried it once when a friend had it in her house. I mentioned to a friend in Louisiana and here it is. Tenderized steak and sausages. The steak tasted gamey but I just marinated it for 10 minutes with garlic and soy sauce----all is cool then.

Plan and Passion. Two of the key ingredients if one is to succeed in any one chosen endeavor. Whether you include God or not in your equation, I am under the persuasion that He is involved, because I am strongly convinced that when something happens, good or bad, it is either because God caused it or allowed it.

If you remain steadfast and focused in the path that you have chosen, it is because there is passion. Passion is the engine that drives everything and gets one through the bumps and hurdles along the way to the finish line. God gave all of us passion---the only problem is, not all of us taps into that power.  And if we do, we use it the wrong way.

Do you know why people get obsessed and worship celebrities, pastors, priests, husband or wife or even our chosen pets? Because God placed in us a built-in desire to worship and follow---- so we will worship Him. But we have misplaced our worship, therefore our life is misplaced and out of focus. So let's go back to the heart of worship. Sorry, I woke up feeling like this.

I understand the moral imperative of the Affordable Health Care act aka the Obamacare. (although I don't want to use the word "obamacare" because I think it's an oxymoron). But regardless of your political leaning; liberal, democrat, republican or just like me non-thinker, (because I get a headache when I think) you can't avoid  math. No one is exempt from Math.

So let's do the math. And I'm doing this for me also to help me simplify it in my head. On January 1 2014, all insurance companies, by law, will have to accept everybody. And everybody means: a 500 lb, diabetic, 3 heart attacks person will pay the same premium as the one who is very healthy, whose only doctors visit is to get a prescription for her acne once every 3 years. So that's good, right? But insurance companies are not  soup kitchen  owned by mother Teresa.... If they are to continue doing business and make a profit, guess what? Increased premiums to cover the " very sick". "My employer will pay the high premiums" so you say. Guess what again. Your employer will now have to cut back on raises, or cut back on people in order to operate profitably. And in the process you may lose your job. Everyone pays! Unless  you are in the 46% who does not pay taxes in this country, a welfare recipient sitting on your buns waiting for your government hand outs.  Here's Math simplified to simple arithmetic: I and the rest of my working friends are paying for you.

I was reading an article about the book by Dr. Brizendine titled, The Male Brain. The author was asked why some men may be built to cheat. Here's her response:

In humans they have identified, so far, about 17 different lengths of [the vasopressin receptor gene]. There are several studies that have shown that those males with the longer version are more likely to be married, and their wives are more likely to say they have a happy, successful marriage and there hasn't been any infidelity. The ones with the shorter ones are more likely to be bachelors.

So it's safe for me to admonish women and say that the only part of the male anatomy we should be measuring is the length of his vasopressin receptor gene. And the size of his ego.

If you want to Read more: http://content.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1976274,00.html#ixzz2hK7qDHIc

It's a fact that 50% of marriages end in divorce, so why are single men/women rushing to become a casualty? If you're in the holding pattern of singlehood, enjoy that period of freedom and personal empowerment; don't hurry to become bound. Or enslaved. I had a good 10 years of singlehood and I still have fond memories of it, but as I get older, I am beginning to feel the need to have someone to call my own. Someone to be my shock absorber, someone to scream at or cry on, or laugh with. And most of all, someone I can count on to be there 24/7 when I need him and someone I know in my bones not only loves me, but likes me as well.  I am not ready to share the bathroom or the chips and dips 24/7, 365 yet, and I don't use the word "love" loosely on him yet----but I know I like my redneck.

Last night when I was talking to him on the phone I asked him to sing to me so I can sleep. I was joking of course, but he started singing anyway....seriously.  I knew then he was willing to subject himself to be my fool and laugh at himself too.  When I woke up this morning and saw gray hairs on my mustache, it didn't take me long to reconsider---I may just have to be ready pretty quickly to share the chips and dips with him and take a chance on becoming a casualty.

I want to be infatuated again, but this Lexapro won't let me. Do you remember that word of our youth, "infatuation"? You know, that distracting state when we can't work, eat or sleep because we're obsessed with a boy? I read that infatuation is like a narcotic drug and has the same measurable effect on the brain as that of being addicted to cocaine.  The brain is in an obsessed state and it will do whatever it takes to get to the source of that obsession.....the opiate of cocaine or a lover. But my brain is in a stable and quiet place, it's not looking for an opiate. It is lazy. So what to do?

I had a conversation with an acquaintance the other day and it went like this.

Him: Hey, I'm curious. I heard that an 18 year old Filipino girl doesn't have a problem marrying a 70 year old American man.

Me:  Correct. In fact, I know a few.
Him: Why is that?
Me :  Because we like white people and green bucks.
Him: And the girl doesn't feel awkward with that arrangement?
Me : No, because she's practical and she's used to it. That's almost the norm back in the Philippines; young girls being kept by old, rich Chinese businessmen or old, corrupt politician.
Him: Really? So how did you get here?
Me: When you see a Filipino woman, most likely she got here because she's a nurse or as a mail-order wife. I am not a nurse.
Him: Wow, maybe I can go there and get me my 18 year old. (chuckle)
Me: Well, if you're not on the FBI's child molester list, you just might be able to.

This is my observation and experience, so if a Filipino reading this is offended or disagree with me, I'd say you must have lived away from that country and sheltered enough to be oblivious to the shimmering reality.

The other day another girlfriend asks me: How do you get a good man? The answer to that is very simple---don't get a bad one. Seriously, I would not get into a relationship that I could not sustain. What I mean by that is, when I first meet a prospective boyfriend I always look for the basic traits that's vital for me to even go further than the first date. And you will know this right off even without probing too deep into his life. How do you do this? You don't talk----you let him talk and you listen carefully.

But how do you make a man talk, especially after he's been burned so many times? I ask questions. He doesn't like my questions or doesn't like me asking questions at all? Then I can't sustain this relationship----the game is over because I am the type who will ask questions, many questions and very personal questions. What is his relationship with his mother, his ex-wife if he has one, his kids, and most of all, who is God to him? And trust me, his answer to this questions will give you your answer as to how he would treat you and money down the line without directly asking him about money and how he uses it. It is a lie when people say money is not an issue when it comes to meaningful relationships. Sooner or later money will pop it's camouflaged head in your pre-marital or marital jungle and you stagger out of there saying: He's become so selfish. Nobody becomes, he already was, but you missed it. And how did you miss it? By not asking questions. Because you were afraid to lose him, so you lost yourself. And when you lose yourself, you lost everything.