Do you have to be dirty?

In less than two weeks here in the island I finally caught something---and it's not crabs or syphilis, (can you still get those?) but it's this annoying dry cough. One thing you'll notice with the locals is that most of them are always either trying to clear their throat or suppressing a cough and when they do cough you'd want them to cough out their whole lung and replace it with a clear one. I know it's a mean thing to say, but if you hear me now, you'd say the same thing about me.

I am trying every herbal remedy I can think of so I don't get worse, but I blame our neighbors over the fence as the cause of my malady. There's about a million people living there in an area the size of my apartment in Dallas....they're like their own country minus the flag. Their number one product is kids and the word "work" or "ethics" applied only to their long dead parents. They follow no rules and they fear no one and nothing, not even dengue fever --or they'd try to clean that sewage in the middle of all of them. Humans will adjust and adopt whatever he's exposed to, but my question always has been: Do you have to be dirty if you're poor?

Not abused but abusive victim

I just got back from a trip to the office of Philippine Immigration. In the taxi on the way back home, the driver was listening to this radio program where people would call in for advice. One caller was talking about her abusive and very controlling boyfriend, where she said right off that their relationship has lasted more than it should because she "understands his being abusive." He will not allow her to have any contacts on her cell phone, he told her to quit Facebook and she has to have his approval every time there's a family affair that she needs to go to. OR....he threatens to leave her. When she does anything that he does not approve, he threatens to leave her.....and....guess what she said: "Everytime he threatens to leave me, I drop on my knees in front of him and beg him not to. I've always done that because I love him."

I arrived at my destination before the host was able to give her counsel, but I know what my counsel would be to her: I would tell her to tie a rope around her neck and jump off the bridge.
There's no hope for her---who does that crap anymore? Kneeling before a man, begging him to not leave you, because you disobeyed him for being on Facebook? I understand the psychological dynamics of an abused victim, but come on now-- on your knees begging an abuser to stay? That's too colonial. Can't she at least think of something more in line with Facebook generation? You know, when I see kids that are so rotten, my impulse is to discipline the parents. And so with this caller, I feel like slapping her across the head, maybe she'll wake up and realize that there's nothing wrong with the boyfriend--it's her head that needs to be examined. What you tolerate, you will continue to get.

What's New?

When my girlfriends come to me with their giggly selves talking about a new relationship, I pretty much expect that they're intoxicated. They don't want input, they just want to pour out and I can't get a word in anyway because they're either stone in love and can't discern Monday from Friday, or they're simply stoned and can't see what I see. Their words will start with, "Ohh my!" and it goes insane from there.
"Oh my, he's not good, he's the best. He's not just sensitive, he's the most generous man I've ever met." And telling them to shut up would be like telling romance writers to use less superlatives.

Ok, so I'm cynical, but not really. I'm calling it as it is. You see this often with celebrities where they would announce to the whole world, how in love they are and how marvelous this new person is. Then you count the days or you can be generous and give them a year before they announce to the world again, that they're now dating other people. And the same insane cycle starts again. And this same thing happens to my friends too, except that they're not celebrities, so they can only announce it to me. And I don't tread lightly, I tell them: "Cut the crap and the superlatives, but after 2 years let's revisit your vocabulary. I will bet you my neighbors welfare check that the superlatives will become expletives." With this counsel, they'll roll their glassy eyes, shake their love-drunk head and mumble under their breath...Ooh Ritchie I pity you.

I'm not against finding your Umami,I'm not against falling in love and throwing caution to the wind, but just so you know the difference between "love" and "commitment" because the difference between the two is like heaven and hell. And except for a new loan, we're easily excited about anything new. A new man especially, regardless that we don't know how to operate them.

Is it gray or is it dark?

Always, the holiday season brings me down on my knees. It disables me emotionally and I don't hide it, at least not too well. Yesterday, when I asked the AT&T technician when my internet connection will be back, he said. "We're trying to do our best, but what I suggest, is that you forget about it for now and busy yourself with Christmas shopping because I can't tell you when your internet will be fixed." I told him, what makes you think I shop for Christmas, or that I have people I want to shop for?

Even though I have lots of friends, I am a good example of those people who have become more isolated because of social networking now made less social by the internet and the cell phones. I reach out and touch the mouse before I do to friends. When my internet is useless on any given day, I go into a murderous frenzy as if I'm demon possessed, and when it goes down during this time of the year, I don't have the energy for any frenzy; I simply want to down a handful of Xanax then hide in my cave and come back out in March. But hiding is no fun if no one's going to look for you. Well, I know what I'm hiding from.... what I don't know is, what I'm searching for.

Me and the other minnows

Finally, I have my internet working again. This guy named Brad, the local AT&T technician who was working on my ticket, went on a limb to circumvent the system. Not only did he do that, he was so nice to talk to -makes you feel like you are important and that your request is not a bother to him. He's one of the little people in a corporate set up who still takes pride in their work --a trait that has almost become obsolete. And this is easy to understand. When an employer does not show loyalty to their employees, the latter will not bestow that loyalty back to them either. And guess who suffers? The little minnows like me. Well, I don't feel like a minnow today because I have internet....Isn't that sad?

Interruptions in Life

Today is my 5th day without internet, so I am at Mcdonald's using their free Wi-Fi. I have stopped fretting about my internet service or lack thereof. Let's face it, none of these people on the other line cares, regardless that AT&T's opening greeting is "How may I make you a satisfied customer today?" Isn't that a hoot?

Whenever I get into less than desirable and contrary situations, my first reaction is to panic and get angry. I don't want my boat rocked, I don't want anybody shaking my tree or cracking my eggs and I want everybody to be on the same page with me. Is that too much to ask? I have become very Westernized about convenience and efficient living, so going to the library or here at Mcdonald's to access the web is too much deviation from my routine. A comfortable routine of surfing at home.

I am leaving on the 6th to go to Cabo and I will be gone for a month so I am fretting about my internet getting resolved before I leave, but it is what it is. So while I am howling at the moon, I might as well be thankful that I can get up and order pancakes with sausage and eggs, regardless that this daily visits to Mcdonald's is quickly driving me to the poor house. That or the nut house and I don't know which is preferrable.

The New Black

My brain went on vacation and refused to come back to work. Every day when I sit down trying to string the words together to finish writing the book, I am reminded of our old carabao yoked to a sled pulling me and my friends. We were a bunch of malnourished 8-year olds, so we didn't weigh much, but the carabao struggled at every step in pulling us. I don't know, maybe the carabao was more malnourished than us.

Lately I feel like that carabao-dragging and struggling. To come up with a word or a sentence, is like reeling in a fish that's barely biten the hook - no telling if you'll get it out of the water. "It should be easy," a friend said. "because you're writing what you know." I wish. The story is there, but what about resonance and flow? Even Stephen King insists on resonance.

I don't need imagination as much as inspiration, but more than inspiration, I need my brain functioning to a useful level.I have learned to live with melancholy, but lately, depression is the new black that seem to consistently color my thinking. Some people, like Lord Byron or Virginia Woolf, when they got depressed, they became more poetic and wrote more. My new black is not that efficient. When I am depressed, I don't sleep, and when I don't sleep I get depressed and even though I am walking and living, I am really dead. And I don't rise on the 3rd day either. I simply wait until a different color shows up, and hopefully it's not gray.

*Picture lifted from this site:http://www.travel-philippines.com/locations/palawan/3-sabang.htm

Don't Just Do Something - Stand there

At some point in your life, you'll encounter people who will not give you the steam of their pee or give you the time of day even if they're standing by Big Ben. So what do you do with this kind of people?

I have this friend (at least I thought he was) sends me forwarded messages everyday, but when I asks him for information on subjects I am researching on, he just ignore my email. I understand people have lives and are busy, but what happened to simple decency of simply telling me he does not have the information I am asking for? No wonder he's got an F in business and family life.

The reason this is cracking my eggs, is because when someone needs something from me, I don't just ignore them. If I have it to give, I give it to them. There's a dialogue on Slumdog Millionaire that I love - when Jamal told the policeman that he had the answers - so he gave it to them. "When someone asks me a question, I tell them the answer." He said. That's what life is all about, if it's within your power to give, Give. There's a running commentary about the difference between a man and a woman and it goes like this: When a woman says, "I'll call you" she means she'll call you when she gets home. But when a man says, "l'll call you" he means he'll call you in his lifetime. And since I don't have a lifetime to wait for people to answer a simple question, I'll just employ Yahoo's blocking system and block this friend's email address from my life. Well, maybe not that drastic, but then again, why not?

I Wish....

1. I wish I have something better to do on a Saturday morning than just wish.

2. I wish Obama would stop the ghetto speak -"I'm busy with a mop cleaning after the last President" because even though it's sooo like Barry, it's soo past the campaign months to be talking like that, it's soo unpresidential and it's soo getting on my nerves. And George is soo past caring.

3. I wish people behind me at the grocery check out counter would read the People magazine (or any magazine, I don't care) instead of making me feel rushed.

4. I wish clerks at the grocery check out counter would be more conversational and friendly so people behind me would be distracted and stop being in a hurry.

5. I wish people everywhere would just simply stop being in a hurry. Why hurry, so we can hurry and wait some more at the psychiatrists' office? Or wait stiff at the morgue?

6. I wish I have other wishes more meaningful than wishing for people to slow down.

7. I wish the Republican and Democrats in Congress would disappear into thin air (or wherever, I don't care) and come back as Republicans and Democrats with morals. And conscience. Or better yet, don't come back at all.

8. I wish some UFO (or any vehicle, I don't care) would land in Montana and pick up all the people who claims to have a political affiliation but don't have a clue what's going on. Or better yet, pick up all those people whose only conviction for voting Barack in is that black goes well with a white house.

9. I wish I know why I said Montana, when I could very well pick Texas. Maybe because I don't want to be mistakenly picked up by a UFO because I don't want to ride the UFO. And I don't know if they even serve peanuts on the UFO.

Unfriend or Hide

It used to be that when you meet new people you ask them questions like: do you live around here? And what do you do? (or if you're Filipino - how much is your salary?) But really, why ask when you get answers like, "Just google me." With all these technology and networking sites in our hand, we have isolated ourselves more than ever. Yes, we are more connected yet very disconnected from the very thing that humans really need; the physical and emotional connection.

The other day at a dinner party, (I hate socials, so don't ask why I was even there) I was trying to make small talk, ( because that's what you do at socials ) and I caught myself asking whoever I was talking to, "Are you on Facebook?" I don't know why I asked that, maybe to sound like I'm hip at networking? I like Facebook because I want to know what's happening in people's lives, not that I really care, but simply because I am nosy. But lately, I'm frustrated when I open my FB because I end up having to scroll way down before I can get to relevant or important (if there's such a thing as "relevant" or "important" on Facebook) status of friends because of all the annoying games and horoscope that people are publishing as their status.

Yesterday, I took the time to really learn Facebook and see how I can get rid of these annoying statuses or cancel my account altogether. Unfriend or Hide them, Chat said. Good idea. And this morning when I walked in to work, a co-worker was in a bad mood, whining about " No one wants to plow my farm." I said, "You bum coffee from me all the time and you have a farm?" "No, Farmville on Facebook. And I can't get anyone to help me with harvest either."

As if my Facebook problem is not enough already, now this. I don't know what Farmville is or any of that , all I know is that it's annoying the crap out of me. So how do I hide my co-worker? I can't, but I can hide my coffee.

Communicate, Communicate

It is not good when we resent "something" or "someone" because our body reacts and manifests it in several ways. Anger, depression or anxiety is the common body response and it's very unhealthy to walk around with this baggage. We need to address the issue, find a resolution and resolve it. And resolve it quick.

So why am I huffing and puffing and boiling over and blowing up at work? Because I have not come to terms with this impending move of our office location. I feel that management should have consulted us (pee-ons) or at the least, informed us the minute they were thinking of moving and that they were planning to move to another location that would require us to expend extra gas and extra time to get there. I understand that in this present economy it is hard to get another job, but I feel that it's just common decency to give us advance notice so we can plan accordingly.

Like, in my case, if I had known 3 months ago of their plan to move, I would have taken another job offer, or accepted a marriage proposal from a man in Jibuti (I don't know where that is, I just know how to spell it) or eloped to East Timor or whatever. Or, move in with this man I met under the bridge who drove a wiggly stolen shopping cart (he said he didn't steal it, he planned to return it at another Walmart in another State - you know, like returning a Hertz rent-a-car?) loaded with his valuable cardboard boxes. But you know what I mean? Give us the option (to quit or go with the move) and not just assume that we're stupid and won't know that an extra mile means extra gas and that extra gas means we have to eat less.

Ok, so I lied. There was no job offer and no marriage offer and I am blowing things out of proportion because an extra 14 miles a day is not much compared to being jobless. Looking at things in proper perspective, my world has not collapsed, I still have so many things to be thankful for and one is, I like my co-workers and they like me and when I am blogging at work, like right now, they know not to come bother me bumming for more cream or sugar.
The other day when I told my friend about my resentment over this move he said, "Just go with the flow because your job sounds fun," "Yeah, it's about as fun as diarrhea," I said. And if I don't come to terms with this "move" and continue to sit here pouting and blogging, my boss may just make me have more fun at the unemployment line.

What's Your Calling?

A pitcher cries for water to carry, and a person for work that is Real - Marge Piercy

Next month my office will move to another location which will be 6 miles farther from where we are now. I am a bit sad and a lot angry about it. I'm not really angry with the company because they have to do what they have to do to survive in this economy, but I am mad at myself because as much as I hate driving that far, there's nothing I hate more than looking for another job if I choose not to move with them.

I am mad because this move is rocking my boat: I don't want to move and I don't want to look for another job, so once again, I am forced to look and reassess my life. On my deathbed and I am asked, "Is this the job you want to be found dead in?" My answer would be an emphatic "no." So why not change?

When Clare Booth Luce reflected about her life and confessed, "If I were to write my autobiography, my title would be The Autobiography of a Failure." What in the world is she talking about? Not only did she have money, she had fame as an American playwright, and influence as a US ambassador. And if that wasn't enough, she was also married to the publishing magnate of Time and Life magazine.

But I understand what she meant. When people say they're a failure, it's because they are not doing what God has created them to do or not following their true calling. Luce had to sublimate her passion for theater writing to accomodate the duty of a politician. Her husband wanted her in politics, she didn't. " I would say my worst failure, paradoxically, was a rather long-drawn-out series of relative successes, none of which were in theater. In other words, my failure was not to return to the real vocation I had, which was writing. I don't remember from childhood ever wanting to do or be anything except a writer."

Like Luce, I also know that I am not doing what I was born to do, but I am too lazy, too afraid and too set in my ways to change my course. So until I get the balls, I'll just be sailing in my paper boat in this plastic world.

Back When I could....

I am sad, I am frustrated because as much as I like to joke about menopausal women, I don't like the fact that I retain water more than I can with information. And because of that, I am on the verge of giving up the only pleasure I have in life, which is reading and writing. To some people, writing is an art, to me it's a craft, meaning I have to work hard at stringing words together. If stringing the words is hard work, imagine me having to find the words to string.
I used to sit on this chair until my legs get numb from not moving because of a riveting story I am reading. Now, I sit here and lay like brocolli just staring out to my patio bemoaning the demise of a relationship; that of a book and it's reader. (By the way, I don't care for stuffed whatever, but I use this animals to put on top of my stomach to help prop up a book)

At work the other day, Chelsea, my co-worker stopped me from my hypnotized state-"Ritchie, look here," she said I'm staring out the window too long and too much and snapped this on her phone camera. (Yeah, I know, even though I am paid like I'm 12, I still have obligations to fulfill.) I don't really know, what I'm thinking all the time, because I hardly have no memories anymore beyond 3 minutes.

On Wings...

When Live Nation messed up my seating arrangement in New Mexico for the Journey concert, I did not make a big deal about it. But my friends kept telling me, "everytime you have a complaint that is not resolved by the establishment, ie, airlines, stores, hotels..etc, you should blog about it."

Well, I for sure will not be quiet anymore because right now I could vomit from anger and frustration. I have often wondered silently to myself : which would I prefer, an always smiling Filipino but is inefficient and does not have a clue what "customer service" means or would I want someone who looks and sounds almost robotic but very efficient and understands that it's the customer who writes their paycheck. I definitely want the latter.

I went to Wings Travel in Ayala Saturday to see if they can get me a ticket to go to Sydney, Australia. The ladies there were very helpful and polite to look up routings and airlines and we finally reserved Singapore Airlines. From Sydney I have to fly to Coffs Harbour but they told me that they can't book that part of the ticket because they have to call Quantas and Quantas is not open til Monday which was yesterday. (First foul up) I told them I will handle that part, I will buy it from Travelocity, which I did. So yesterday, I went to get money from my ATM card, but my bank in the US flagged my withdrawal as "irregular activity" because I forgot to inform them to flag my account that I will be using it outside of the US. (A good security measure for me - their customer, though not under this circumstance.)

I did not want to use my credit card because Wings told me that it would be a different price if I use a credit card - 65 usd more difference. (2nd foul up) But instead of waiting until my bank removes the alert and have to go back to withdraw again, I called Wings at 415pm and told them that I will be using a credit card instead to get it over with. Then they dropped the guillotine on me when the lady told me that they will be closed at 530 and it's too late because Singapore Airlines has to issue the ticket and they will be closed all week after today. Now mind you, I was in constant communication with them since Saturday, Monday and today, no one told me about the deadline. Why can't they issue the ticket on Monday the 13th? No, it's too late because I am flying on the 14th, she said. Well, it's not my fault that they are closed all week, can they not make other arrangement to help the customer? That would be too much to ask.

Whoever owned that agency lost my business and my future business. Why? His employees were only trained to operate computers to find "vendors" to sell to me but forgot to tell them that the most critical aspect of a business is customer care. Knowing your product is important, but only secondary to knowing the needs of your client. Successful businesses in the West knows this very important fact: Only 4% of dissatisfied customers will go back to the establishment to complain while the 96% goes around badmouthing to their friends. And their friends badmouth to their...and so the chain goes on.

And why am I fuming about this? Because if I don't get a flight out of Cebu to connect with the one I already bought from Travelocity, I can just kiss my 325 dollars goodbye.

I am almost incoherent writing this, but as I pray, I am beginning to calm down and realized that there must be a reason greater than Wings Travels foul up why I should not be going to Australia.

Whine, whine, whine

I practice refrain, at least I try to - refrain from focusing on the negative. But my goodness, I called the service center to get my airconditioning unit checked and they told me that if it needs freon, it would need to be pulled out and brought to their shop. "So you mean to say I will be without airconditioner for a day?" Haven't they heard of bringing the freon and pump it to my unit? "No, ma'm, we have to do a leak test." I better shut up.

Now I hate to sound like a diva, for crying out loud I've been in worst heat, in fact when Chat was born she was sickly and yellowed because up until the day I delivered her I was peddling snacks to construction workers to earn money to pay for her delivery. But that was then, this is now. I have paid my dues and I earned my pleasures in life. When I chose to backpack it's because I want the experience, not because I can't afford to stay at the Four Seasons or the Ritz.

It's now 2 a.m. and the last 2 hours I have been trying to get connected to the internet using this Smart Bro broadband kit. The kit costs P1995.00 with free 5 hours, then you can reload minutes, 20pesos per hour. Sounds reasonable, right? Well, the free 5 hours and the extra 15 hours that I bought was used up just trying to get connected to any website. I would just be happy if I can get to my emails without having to wait for a week to open.

But here's some positive; my allergies are still bad but I discovered that Vicks vaporub gives me relief for a minute. So I now walk around smelling like I just left the "manghihilot" but then again, hilot is so not for the poor anymore. In fact, look at the menu and the price of a "hilot"on some of the high end spas in Manila and you'd start to miss your toothless-betel chewing-red cud spitting manghihilot neighbor who did it just on donations.

But all is well because tomorrow I am going to the Chi at Shangrila.

I need cheese with my whine

Ok, so I am here in Cebu. The flight from Dallas to Korea started out well when I saw that the 2 seats next to me were empty, until this Vietcong from another row jumped on one of them. He wanted to give his companion his seat so his friend could lay down and he to use the 2 empty seats next to me. I expect women to be less considerate to other women but I don't expect males to do that to women. Well, he did. He immediately plopped himself occupying the 2 seats with his feet almost touching me. I wanted to whack that Vietcong but I tried to be nice. I asked him if he could tell me about train travel in Vietnam. He said: "No, you go Vietnam, ride plane. Train no good, seat smaw". Then he put on his headset. Did I say I wanted to whack that Vietcong?

Then I land in Cebu and my troubles are only beginning. The heat is killing me. And I think I caught this colds from the airplane. I wish people would cover their mouth when they cough especially in confined pressurized spaces... like the airplane? Ever since I landed I have this colds and sinus congestion and a nagging headache. With this I am struggling to enjoy my day, I can't see straight. I had all kinds of plans before I got here like, going to Vietnam and or Australia to see my cousin, but now all I want to do is get back on the plane and head back home. But where is home?

I am pretty proud and happy of this postage stamp size apartment I have here in Cebu. It's really not that small, it's bigger than that. It's about the size of a volkswagen. But don't knock it, it's better than the hostels I've stayed in and it's easier to cool. Even though I don't like the window units, it cools me just fine. Until now. I have more to complain about like this netbook I am squinting at right now but my eyes are tired therefore I don't have any energy left for my other complains.

As long as I am whining...

Twelve years ago, Don finally agreed to buy me a computer after my friend in Cebu harassed me, "You live in America and you don't have a computer?" she got tired of receiving letters from me through fax. After a few days of tinkering with it, Don thought I was a computer whiz because I learned how to turn it on and off.

Computers are a blessing when they're working but right now I'm squinting at this tiny netbook fondling this ticklish touchpad because my desktop won't let me in to blogspot and my laptop's wireless card stopped blinking..meaning he ain't working either. If only my old Corona has internet.

.

Of Gadgets and more gadgets

In the early 70's when the US Congress was discussing about the emerging technology, their excitement pooled around "how much time it would save us". They were right and wrong. Yes, it freed us from doing laundry on a scrub board or from going to the river to wash, but technology also gives us more gadgets to manage thus making us more isolated. Instead of socializing with other women at the river, we now are stuck staring at our Blackberry's.

I have never bought a piece of electronic gadget unless a coffee maker is considered one. Everything I have was given to me. And because I have been complaining about my desktop and laptop, this week I received a new Netbook plus a new Canon digital camera and a Flip Mino camcorder. Don't ask me who, just know that it's a he. I am now blogging from this netbook because I could not blog on my desktop anymore, again,, don't ask me why,just believe me when I say it won't let me.

I don't read manuals except the Bible. So imagine my frustration when I have to try to figure out what to do with anything new. And now I have to learn to use the touch pad, my old laptop is an IBM (also was a gift) with that red button in the middle that you wiggle around, I was used to that. I cried in frustration the other day when I got on this netbook because everytime I touch the touch pad it was so sensitive that the screen just flashes in and out, I was so frustrated until my "donor friend" walked me through it to adjust it.

I can't afford to ramble on in my blog now because I spend more time feeling this touch pad, than thinking of what to say. I better get out of here and walk off this frustration.

Rub His Belly?

John and Chat left for Laguna Seca this morning. John will be in race car driving school for a week and Chat said she will be enjoying the beach view for a week. Me, I'm stuck with their stupid cat. I didn't ask for this assignment but Chat knows how to work me and appeal to my conscience; She was teary eyed talking about Tigger being left in the cat hotel while they're gone. "Tigger will be traumatized being put in that cage and he will be more depressed when we get back." I tried to avoid eye contact when she said that, but I said, "That stupid cat is depressed? Why didn't you leave him at Petco?, why did you have to take him home?"

Chat and I don't have the typical mother-daughter relationship (though she acts more like the mother at times) we're just crazy buddies. "Mom, I'll take Tigger back to Petco on our way to take you to the nursing home." With that comment, I agreed quick to babysit Tigger.
She gave me written instructions on what to do: he gets canned tuna every other day, he only likes to play with his toy bird, he needs to be brushed and wiped with this lavender smelling wipes. I thought this is crazy because we have this cat in Cebu that I kept throwing over the fence hoping he'd get lost, and now I have to do this for Chat's cat like I'm a spa worker?

I am not maternal, I know. But if I thought that was too much, her instructions only got more wild. Rub his belly, he really likes that. I don't even rub Buddha's belly, and it's supposed to bring you good luck.

Signs of Christmas Blues

1. Loneliness is sitting in your patio drinking coffee looking at the red firetruck and ambulance who came for your neighbor. And instead of worrying about your neighbor, your only thought was, "Ooh, the first sign of Christmas - the color red." And the husky paramedic.

2. When You shop for gifts for yourself.

3. When You eyed the pajamas and sheepskin house shoes for him then realized you already lost him 2 years ago.

3. When You tell your friends you can't attend their parties because you're going to another party. Your own pity-party.

4. When You start missing the not- fat guy in red - the Salvation Army volunteer standing in front of the grocery store. Like you, they long for company - even for a moment.

5. When You start googling the organization that gives free hugs.

6. When You suddendly wished you are short and small so you can sit on Santa's lap at the mall.
Or just anybody's lap really. Beard or no beard.

7. When You just came home from a laughter filled party with your friends saying "You're just so funny" then you go to bed and cry all night long. Because really, that's what loneliness is.