| Ketsup and Fries |
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| Posted by Cezar Vicera Grasparil | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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src="http://pagead2.googlesyndication.com/pagead/show_ads.js"> Ketchup and Fries: a modern fairy tale By Nadia Cruz Camit, Contributor 02/14/2007 When I was 10, I was an avid fan of the TV series called The Twilight Zone. I remember vividly a fascinating episode, where a guy from the 17th century actually falls in love with a girl who lives in the modern times. They are so far apart, distance- and time-wise, but they could hear each other's voices and communicate through mirrors and rivers. I was struck by this particular episode because it's a very odd and incredible love story. How can one actually fall in love with someone that he can't physically feel nor touch? For a moment, I thought it was kind of over the top and hilarious. Until I experienced it myself-20 years later. It isn't exactly the same, because we belong to the same era. But we live miles apart. I have fallen in love with a man who lives 8,564 miles away from me. He lives in a land called Maidstone in England. We didn't talk through mirrors and rivers but through a fruit called Apple. Apple Mac, that is. My story isn't exactly as creepy as that of the Twilight Zone, but I think it's worth sharing. You see, I'm the most introverted person on earth. I thrive on books, music and DVDs. I hate parties. I hate socializing. I hate going out. I don't smoke. I don't drink. I don't like shopping for clothes. I hate Fridays. There are only three people who kept me company-I , me and myself. People are actually surprised about the fact that I deliberately chose to spend Christmases, New Years and even my birthdays alone. My most memorable New Year was when I enjoyed a whole pizza while having a marathon of Desperate Housewives. I would work like a woman with a dozen children even though single. I thrive on stress. I live and breathe in it since the moment I stepped into the world of advertising a decade ago. Thank God my work as a copywriter don't involve socializing with clients. All I have to do was bury my head in tons of job orders in my work station and conceptualize. Though I admit that work is oftentimes rough, it pays the bills, and makes me buy as much books and CDs I wanted so I am perfectly happy. I have always hated kids. I hate the sound of their tantrums in the mall. I would pity mothers who had to deal with their nagging plea for toys and ice cream. I hate Halloween because it would involve a bunch of kids knocking at my door, begging for candies. I would just leave my goodies outside with a sign "NOBODY'S HOME, TAKE ONE." With the kind of personality I have, no one would ever think that I would one day find true love and eventually marry. As my mum would say, "You have an attitude only a mother can love." Until one fateful day, a photographer sells me his Powerbook for half the price. He bought the latest version of the Mac, so he wants to get rid of his old one quickly. I've always wanted one for myself, so I grab it without second thoughts. It's income-generating for me, because with it, I can accept part-time writing jobs for magazines. A week after, an editor from a lifestyle magazine, asks me to write an article on the online video chat craze that has becoming a phenomenon in Manila. He's desperate, I guess, because most of his staff have gone on leave for the holidays. He is even more desperate, I guess, because of all people, he has asked me to write for something that involves socializing. He installs video chat programs in my computer, including a video camera. He tells me in a strict tone, "It better be on my desk next week. And it better be realistic." I charge him an arm and a leg, and he agrees, so I have no choice but to write it. It would, after all, enable me to buy more books. On the 7th of January 2006, 9:14 in the morning, I am staring at my computer, and to myself, "What the hell did I get myself into?" I don't have a clue about dealing with people in parties, and here I am, writing something about video chats. I have to stop whining and start working. First, I think of a name that would sound really respectable, and would represent at least a fraction of me, without having to reveal my identity. I would die at the thought of being caught by my colleagues in advertising in an online chat. Finally, I come up with the name Pianistfemme. French-sounding, music-loving, innocent girl, who lives in France. Perfect. I am completely incognito. I guess the only way to write about something is to experience it. So, with closed eyes, I enter a chat room called "arts and culture." I almost faint upon seeing obscene men and women, not actually "chatting." Thank God, there are actually a handful who know something about the arts. A conductor from Italy is actually discussing a Rachmaninoff piece. And I am actually questioning his views. Not bad, not bad at all. I never thought I would be hooked to a form of communication such as this, but it's perfect. It's perfect for introverts like me. My editor is surprised of how insightful my article has been. I am even more surprised to find such interesting people in this little online world. I meet such intellectual people from all parts of the world who could dig my thoughts on Shakespeare and Dickens. I did not have to meet them on a fancy café to socialize with them. I can be locked in my room, expressing my views. I become quite popular on this site. And everyone think I am nice, intelligent and charming. One day, I am just so overwhelmed by the amount of people trying to have one-on-one chats with me. My message box overflows with personal messages, and I am having problems with the program. "How do I stop my PMs? (personal messages). Help me please." I'm a Mac idiot, and I don't know how to figure out some programs. On that fateful day, I'm rescued by a man named Shade2_UK. This is the day that will change my life forever. Shade2_UK is patient enough to teach me how to work with my Mac. We start chatting about Mac programs, and I click on his video window. The first time ever I see his face, I feel like melting. Indeed, he's the most charming man on the face of the planet. "What the hell is he doing online?" I whisper to myself. A man as handsome as him should be out partying. As we talk for hours and hours, I discover that creatures like me exist on this planet. And Shade2_UK is one of them. He also loves books. He appreciates literature. He is not bothered with classical music. He also hate loud parties and loud party people. And the most surprising part: he's not gay. Our first conversation lasts for 18 hours straight. We forget about sleep, we fergot to eat, and we even forget that there 's such a thing as day and night. Believe it or not, we talk from the opposite ends of the world, but we feel like we ar so close to one another. He's an artist, a famous graffiti artist in his village. And I's a writer. We never run out of things to say. We debate about the arts. We discuss art films. I never thought I would say this, but after a long time, I enjoy the company of someone, apart from myself. He's quite a shy guy, and would always end up blushing in the middle of our conversations. So I call him "Ketchup Kid." I always have a yellow light on when I'm talking to him so he calls me "French Fry." He's fascinated with Star Wars as I am with the Simpsons. His name is Graham Upton. After three months, he traveled 8,564 miles to visit me in Manila. Last Christmas, I traveled 8,564 miles to visit him. I married Graham on the 10th of February, 2007 at the Holy Trinity Church in Makati. Now it surprises me why I'm no longer annoyed with children. Now I see mothers and with children crying, and secretly say, " I bet my kid can cry louder than that." A loner, introvert, anti-social who pukes at the thought of marriage has finally found her match from thousands of miles away and has finally found love. Too hard to believe? Strange things always do happen, you see. Add as favourites (19) | Quote this article on your site | Views: 591
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im happy for you... 







