Man Are From Mars, Women From Venus

A man will pay two-dollars for a one-dollar item he needs, but a woman will pay one-dollar for a two-dollar item that she doesn't need. A woman worries about her future until she finds a husband, but a man never worries about the future until he takes a wife. A successful man is one who makes more money than his wife can spend, but a successful woman is one who can find such a man!!! :P

What is LOVE?


In France...


LOVE is a Comedy


In Germany...


LOVE is a Drama


In England...


LOVE is a Tragedy


But
In India
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LOVE is a National Game, Everyone plays it.. :D

When Fantasy Becomes Reality

My love start in Facebook, I’m sure many of you didn’t think that cyber love can become reality right? Well my LOVE actually does come true and it all starts in Facebook. When he adds me as a friend in Facebook, I think “Who is this guy?” then I approved him, not knowing who he was. I start to look at his wall and his pictures. I smile alone and I don’t know what the reason was. Then one day he tagged me in one of his picture. It was Bak Kut Teh, a Chinese medicated soup. I thought, “Why is he tagging me?” Then I ignore the thought, thinking that it is just tagging, nothing special. We start commenting on his friend’s wall and we chat. Things go on as usual, as he did not online often. One day during my revision on BSE (Breast Self Examination), I tag the male breast cancer to him and other friends, and we started commenting. His friend is my son in virtual life (Facebook only), then in one of his comment, he said can I be the Daddy as I said that my virtual son does not have a virtual Daddy, then I said “yeah sure”, but my virtual son said he wants another dad. Funny comments I thought, smiling to myself. During father’s day, I send him message saying happy father’s day. I think it is cute (smile), and in June 30 he give me his phone number and we start text messaging, it was fun texting with him, I feel happy and feel I want to spend more time with him. As times goes by, we text messaging and calling only, that’s our routine (LOL). He wants to see me before he leave but I got class on that day. He said he wants to take care of me, he wants to be my Boyfriend but I ask him time before I decided and he agreed. 2138 at 8th July 2010. I finally make my decision, I agreed to be his girlfriend and he was really happy, although we never met each other before but my soul telling me that he is the one. Our relationship runs smoothly, my friend said “Aren’t you afraid that the love you shared with him will vanish tomorrow (11th Dec 2010)” I’m afraid that her words will come true but my feelings strengthen my heart and I pray so that everything will be fine and our love will remain the same when we meet at 11th Dec 2010. Yeah it’s true when I meet him, my heart pounding fast although I never meet him before my heart could tell to whom they belongs. I am so happy until now our relationship grew stronger and stronger although distance kept us apart but our Love remains.

A Holiday Love Story

Two years ago as I hung the ornaments on my tree and put my ceramic Baby Jesus in the manger, I had more than the holidays on my mind. A diamond ring sparkled on my left hand. After years of teaching me contentment and comfortable singleness, God had led me to say yes to Bill Page – a godly man who was an old friend, a widower, and a pastor. On December 30, 2001, Bill and I married. So this month I want to share with you a love story – but not the one you think. When my first husband died 16 years ago, many people quoted Psalm 68:5 and Isaiah 54:5 and tried to comfort me by saying, “God will be your husband.” It didn’t work. I repeatedly told the Lord, “I want You to be my God. I don’t want you to be my spouse. I want a flesh-and-blood husband.” God did not get mad or withdraw. He stayed close and waited. As my grief lessened and my single parenting intensified, I turned to the Lord as never before – as I had turned to my husband before he died. And God’s Spirit responded, speaking comfort and giving direction. I experienced the reality of having a divine partner. As the years went by, I took for granted the intimacy I shared with God. I didn’t analyze it or think about it; I just lived it. But this year was different. I had been remarried for three months when my first awareness of the change came. Praying as I drove to my teaching job, I sensed an indefinable change. God was still there. He was listening, and He loved me. But earlier that morning, I had talked with Bill about many of the things I was now praying about. The “no other one” intimacy with God I had as a single woman was now filled by my flesh-and-blood husband. When I figured out the difference, my prayer changed to thanksgiving for the privilege of experiencing God in a unique way because of my needs as a single woman. Two months later, however, I wasn’t so thankful. I was preparing to speak at my first women’s retreat since getting married, and I felt afraid. Would no longer having my single-life neediness for God affect the depth of my speaking? After wrestling with my thoughts for a couple of weeks, I burst into tears one night. Bill asked what was wrong, and I did my best to explain. He had been a widower for a couple of years, so he had a sense of what I meant; and he realized that my additional 13 years of being alone had left a strong reality of a divine presence. It helped to be understood, but his next comment helped me even more: “You know how you’re going to speak on the topic of ‘New Every Morning’ from Lamentations 3? Well, God is allowing you to live that now. You’re experiencing Him in a new, married way.” My husband’s words changed my fretting to thinking. As a single person, the same Holy Spirit who so often had spoken directly to me, now often spoke through my husband. I thought back to the mornings I’d talked to Bill about my retreat topics and content. Each time, he’d made comments that helped me focus my sharing. God was just as near and helpful, but now He had another way to help and direct me – through my husband. The retreat was great, and my positive attitude toward my husband even rubbed off on many of the ladies; and they, too, began speaking well of their mates. It was a new addition to the results God produced when I spoke. Every single person has an incredible opportunity to find God in a unique, intimate way. So when you decorate your tree and wrap gifts this holiday season, take a moment to thank the Lord for His Emanuel – the God-with-us child born 2,000 years ago – and realize that your love story with Him is the greatest one ever told.

The Adam And Eve Story

After the fall in Garden of Eden, Adam was walking with his sons Cain and Abel. They passed by the ruins of the Garden of Eden. One of the boys asked, "What's that?" Adam replied, "Boys, that's where your mother ate us out of house and home."

Delivering My Baby

A woman entered the hospital to deliver her 15th child. "Congratulations," said the nurse, "but don't you think this is enough?" The woman replied, "Are you kidding? This is the only vacation I get each year."

The Guilty Wife

The local courtroom was packed as testimony began in the sentencing hearing of a woman convicted of murdering her husband of 20 years by poisoning his coffee. The defense attorney knew he had his work cut out for him trying to make his client appear more sympathetic to the Judge, especially since she had been so "matter-of-fact" about the whole thing all during the trial. "Mrs. Roth," he began, "was there any point that morning where you felt pity for your husband ?" "Well... yeah... I guess..." she replied. "And when was that?" pressed the attorney. "Well...," she replied, "when he asked for his third cup."

A Love Affair

Mrs. Gobhi was almost in tears. "Oh Palak," she said to her maid, "I have reason to suspect that my husband is having an affair with his secretary." " I don't believe it for one minute !" Palak snapped. "You're just saying that to make me jealous !!!"

Why Brides Wear White?

A little girl at a wedding asked, "Mommy, why do brides always wear white?" The mom replied, "Because they're happy, dear." Halfway through the wedding the girl whispered, "Mommy, if brides wear white because they're happy, then why do men wear black?"

My Love My Soul..

Meeting you was fate, becoming your friend was a choice but falling in love with you I had no control over....I remember the first day when i saw him in class. He was wearing white shirt and black pant. I just looked at him and was impressed by his personality....... days passed........... and just a hello hi sort of conversation continued. In November he sent me an SMS. I messaged him and asked " who are you". He called me and informed. Then we used to send forwarded messages to each other. Sometimes he used to comment on those messages and i felt very nice. One day he added me on orkut. Daily i used to look at his pics for hours. I dont know why i used to look but i felt something for him. Then we started chatting and there was a sort of excitement. We even started talking on phones. The whole day i used to wait for the night so that we can chat. we became friends but my feelings for him grew more and more as the time passed. Then one evening he called and asked "can we meet?" . It was an unexpected surprise for me which changed my whole life. I said yes!!!!!!!!!! and we met at lake. It was cold out there. He came running..........my heart started beating at full speed. We started walking ...........he was a bit fast. I wanted to tel him to be lil slow but i didnt. I became speechless. I wanted to look into his eyes but i looked here and there...............infact on everthing except him. We came back to parking area and he sat on my kinetic ................and i sat behind him and took a small round of that area. That was toooooooooo romantic but i was pretending to be normal. We went back to our homes ............And i recalled every moment spent together again and again. We met again at lake. He was with his friend. We ate petty and my hands started shivering though i was warm enough....... he jumped and told his friend...........i felt shy as if i did something wrong. His friend went and we both sat.......lake never seemed to me so beautiful as i felt at that time. We both were sitting closely..... I wanted to say You are what I never knew I always wanted........ Next time we went in a garden. He had to go back home also but he was not in a hurry. He asked me suddenly " What is going on between us". I became confused ......smiled and didnt gave any reply. He asked me again and again but i was silent. I couldnt sleep at night..........! I was in love! After he came back from his home, we met again in a garden. It was dark all around ....... He said that nothing can happen. All my hopes were shattered. I came back home and cried a lot. I felt as if i am worthless.............not good for anything. Every time i used to open my orkut account i could see him. So i decided to delete him so that i can forget him. He used to message me n i used to reply. I always felt nice whenever he used to send me a message. I again added him on orkut and said sorry with the add request. He called me on new year and said we will meet when he comes back. I again started thinking about him........we met.......on 26th January at his residence. We played all sorts of games. Then suddenly he said " what if i kiss you?" . I became numb........ I said " i know you will not do". He remained very busy with his office work so i never forced him to meet me frequently. We met on 10th feb (his birthday) for five minutes. It was drizzling. I didnt wanted to say bye but i had to........ We met again in March on Holi. That was the turning point of our relationship........where our eyes said everything to each other. The most eloquent silence.........where only love existed. We met again and again and came more close..............more...................more n more. Actually, there is no remedy for love but to love more. Whenever I meet him.... I feel the same charm as I felt on the first day. I want to be with him forever n ever n ever............! Amen!     

If You Love Her Enough...

My friend John always has something to tell me. He knows so much that young men have to have older and more worldly wise men to tell them. For instance who to trust, how to care for others, and how to live life to the fullest. Recently, John lost his wife Janet. For eight years she fought against cancer, but in the end her sickness had the last word. One day John took out a folded piece of paper from his wallet. He had found it, so he told me, when he tidied up some drawers at home. It was a small love letter Janet had written. The note could look like a school girl's scrawls about her dream guy. All that was missing was a drawing of a heart with the names John and Janet written in it. But the small letter was written by a woman who had had seven children; a woman who fought for her life and who probably only had a few months left to live. It was also a beautiful recipe for how to keep a marriage together. Janet's description of her husband begins thus: "Loved me. Took care of me. Worried about me." Even though John always had a ready answer, he never joked about cancer apparently. Sometimes he came home in the evening to find Janet in the middle of one of those depressions cancer patients so often get. In no time he got her into the car and drove her to her favourite restaurant. He showed consideration for her, and she knew it. You cannot hide something for someone who knows better. "Helped me when I was ill," the next line reads. Perhaps Janet wrote this while the cancer was in one of the horrible and wonderful lulls. Where everything is -- almost -- as it used to be, before the sickness broke out, and where it doesn't hurt to hope that everything is over, maybe forever. "Forgave me a lot." "Stood by my side." And a piece of good advice for everyone who looks on giving constructive criticism as a kind of sacred duty: "Always praising." "Made sure I had everything I needed," she goes on to write. After that she has turned over the paper and added: "Warmth. Humour. Kindness. Thoughtfulness." And then she writes about the husband she has lived with and loved the most of her life: "Always there for me when I needed you." The last words she wrote sum up all the others. I can see her for me where she adds thoughtfully: "Good friend." I stand beside John now, and cannot even pretend to know how it feels to lose someone who is as close to me as Janet was to him. I need to hear what he has to say much more than he needs to talk. "John," I ask. "How do you stick together with someone through 38 years -- not to mention the sickness? How do I know if I can bear to stand by my wife's side if she becomes sick one day?" "You can," he says quietly. "If you love her enough, you can."

Living A Lie...

I've always known that I was differeThe Helpnt from other boys. It started at a young age perhaps at age 6. The Help I've always been told that I was different to other boys but these comments came across as more of a criticism rather than an acknowledgment. From a young age I was in love with barbies and dress up in womens' clothing. I simply love all feminine things-anything I see as pretty I latched onto it. I remember seeing hot guys in music videos in the late 80s but I never assumed or thought of myself as gay...just different I guess. In 1997 I found myself having these attractions to males which was confusing because previously I had loved girls, they were the gender that turned me on...now this sudden change, I didn’t know what to make out of all this. I felt a range of emotions; anger, disgust, self loathing, confusion and I felt scared and lost. I wanted to tell someone but I was too young back then. I thought I was being "naughty" in having these attractions. It wasn’t so much in the attraction, but it was what I was attracted to that was the problem. I felt scared of people hating me, treating me differently and perhaps not being nice to me anymore if I told them I was gay. My self loathing went on for 3 yrs until in 2000 I felt tired of hating and beating myself over something that I had no control over so I just accepted that I was gay. Then in 2002 I came out to my parents and told them the sad news. They refused to believe it. They thought I was trying to get more attention out of them . Later they reckon I was confused, or that I read too much books and that it has brainwashed me. But when after all the yelling and tears and dramas in the house, they finally believed me but my father said I had to be straight or he'll disown me and that I'll be kicked out. I have no choice. I was still going to school, and I had no money to rent a room so to speak so I just agreed to be straight-a lie of course but what can I do? I have no job , not enough friends let alone have any money so I needed to lie just so that I can have a ongoing roof above my head. Maybe I'll move out one day once I have a job. But for now I’m eating food in his house, living in his home, so I'll have to obey his rules. Sad but true. That's the beauty of life. (lols!)

Love In A Paper Bag

It was Molly's job to hand her father his brown paper lunch bag each morning before he headed off to work. One morning, in addition to his usual lunch bag, Molly handed him a second paper bag. This one was worn and held together with duct tape, staples, and paper clips. "Why two bags?" her father asked. "The other is something else," Molly answered. "What's in it?" "Just some stuff. Take it with you." Not wanting to hold court over the matter, he stuffed both sacks into his briefcase, kissed Molly and rushed off. At midday, while hurriedly scarfing down his real lunch, he tore open Molly's bag and shook out the contents: two hair ribbons, three small stones, a plastic dinosaur, a pencil stub, a tiny sea shell, two animal crackers, a marble, a used lipstick, a small doll, two chocolate kisses, and 13 pennies. The busy father smiled, finished eating, and swept the desk clean into the wastebasket- leftover lunch, Molly's junk and all. That evening, Molly ran up behind him as he read the paper. "Where's my bag?" "What bag?" "You know, the one I gave you this morning." "I left it at the office. Why?" "I forgot to put this note in it," she said. "And, besides, those are my things in the sack, Daddy, the ones I really like - I thought you might like to play with them, but now I want them back. You didn't lose the bag, did you, Daddy?" "Oh, no," he said, lying. "I just forgot to bring it home. I'll bring it tomorrow." While Molly hugged her father's neck, he unfolded the note that had not made it into the sack: "I love you, Daddy." Molly had given him her treasures. All that a 7-year-old held dear. Love in a paper bag, and he missed it - not only missed it, but had thrown it in the wastebasket. So back he went to the office. Just ahead of the night janitor, he picked up the wastebasket and poured the contents on his desk. After washing the mustard off the dinosaurs and spraying the whole thing with breath-freshener to kill the smell of onions, he carefully smoothed out the wadded ball of brown paper, put the treasures inside and carried it home gingerly, like an injured kitten. The bag didn't look so good, but the stuff was all there and that's what counted. After dinner, he asked Molly to tell him about the stuff in the sack. It took a long time to tell. Everything had a story or a memory or was attached to dreams and imaginary friends. Fairies had brought some of the things. He'd given her the chocolate kisses; she'd kept them for when she needed them. "Sometimes I think of all the times in this sweet life," he mused, "when I must have missed the affection I was being given. A friend calls this 'standing knee deep in the river and dying of thirst." We should all remember that it's not the destination that counts in life, but the JOURNEY. That journey with the people we love is all that really matters. Such a simple truth so easily forgotten.

Table For Two...

There was a new restaurant that opened in St. Ellen's St. It had a medium sized sign that read Le Croix. It seemed to have fine food, that had been cooked by the finest chefs they could possibly find. And the service was fair. The waiters and waitresses seemed to be fitting for a five star restaurant like this. Many have come back because of the fine service and exquisite food. But for one particular man, he came for one thing and one thing only. This beautiful waitress named Amy. She had gorgeous chocolate brown hair that only went up to her chin. She had blue sapphire eyes that any man can get lost into. Cherry colored lips that can make any man want to crash his own lips with hers. And a body so irresistible, jealousy flows into any woman that sets eyes on her. He had known her for a while, but just kept asking them to let her serve him. But so far, that is as far as it had ever gone. He would come there, even if he would only order a salad or two. And he had come to realize that it was time to make a move. Tonight, he was going to ask her out. And in a very unusual way. He had thought this through and decided to stick with it. Apparently, he had never done this before. Later that night, he had dressed himself nicely. Of course, he wanted to look nice for the woman he had loved for a while. Love? Is that what this is? For heaven's sake, they don't even know that much about each other. Or in her case, nothing about him at all. Either this is one of those 'love at first sight' things, or he was just crazy. Most likely just crazy. But it was too late for that now. He had already gone in. All he has to do is to be smooth, play it safe, and stick to the plan. It was a simple, and yet unusual plan. O, if this actually works, this will go directly into the arsenal of all single men. He just knew it. “Yes sir? Would you be dining with us tonight?” the waiter by the entrance asked. He nodded. “Yes.” “Alright, table for one--” “Actually,” the man cut in. “For two please.” “Right away sir,” the waiter said. “Please let me show you to your seat.” Alright, first step done. He followed the waiter to a seat. It was just by the window, it had a magnificent view of the city. And the moon was shining brightly tonight. The perfect night to do this. “Right, now just sit tight and I will have someone to serve you tonight,” the waiter said. “Um, actually I already have one in mind,” the man said. “Oh, and who may that be sir?” “Uh, may I ask for Amy to wait on me please?” The waiter smiled. “So you are the one she was talking about.” “Eh?” “Never mind sir. I will tell her to serve you tonight.” He nodded. “Thank you so much.” And with that he went off to find Amy, leaving the man to question. 'She talked about me?' he thought. 'Wow, that's nice. But, she actually remembered me?' “Excuse me, sir?” His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a very familiar voice. He turned to where the voice came from. Oh god, it was her! Amy! Alright, now to put the main part of his plan into action. Almost. “Oh, hello,” he said. “Nice to see you again sir,” she said with her usual caring smile. “Likewise.” “So Tony told me that this was a table for two am I right?” He nodded. “Correct.” “Are you expecting your companion to arrive soon?” “Actually, she's already here.” She looked around. “She is? Is she waiting in another table?” He shook his head. “Nope. Would you like to sit down?” That's when she knew who that certain someone was. And she now knew why he kept coming back. And why he kept asking for her. But it really didn't take a genius to figure that one out. She could feel a blush overcome her cheeks. “Oh. Um, I don't know.” “Please?” She saw the look in his eyes. Did she really have a choice? Not really. She smiled and nodded. “Sure.” He smiled back and pulled a chair for her. They talked for nearly twenty minutes before Amy really had to get back to work. But that didn't end there. Before she went back to work, she gave him her number. Inside, he was overjoyed. And suddenly, hungry. He ordered a salad and left after he paid. He would call her later that night. Weeks have passed and he and she had gotten to know each other more. Soon, they started going out. And with no surprise, Le Croix had been his favorite restaurant since. And whenever he went there, he would ask the waiter by the entrance... "Table for two please."

Kiss In The Box

The story goes that some time ago, a man punished his 3-year-old daughter for wasting a roll of gold wrapping paper. Money was tight and he became infuriated when the child tried to decorate a box to put under the Christmas tree.

Nevertheless, the little girl brought the gift to her father the next morning and said, "This is for you, Daddy. He was embarrassed by his earlier overreaction, but his anger flared again when he found the box was empty. He yelled at her, "Don't you know that when you give someone a present, there's supposed to be something inside it?"

The little girl looked up at him with tears in her eyes and said, "Oh, Daddy, it is not empty. I blew kisses into the box. All for you, Daddy." The father was crushed. He put his arms around his little girl, and he begged for her forgiveness.

It is told that the man kept that gold box by his bed for years and whenever he was discouraged, he would take out an imaginary kiss and remember the love of the child who had put it there.

In a very real sense, each of us as humans have been given a gold container filled with unconditional love and kisses from our children, friends, family or God. There is no more precious possession anyone could hold.

Rescuing Hug..!

This is a picture from an article called "The Rescuing Hug". The article details the first week of life of a set of twins, Kyrie (red dot) and Brielle (blue dot). Apparently, each were in their respective incubators, and one was not expected to live. A hospital nurse fought against the hospital rules and placed the babies in one incubator. When they were placed together, the healthier of the two threw an arm over her sister in an endearing embrace. The smaller baby's heart rate stabilized and her temperature rose to normal. They both survived, and are thriving, in fact, the two girls went home to share a crib, and still snuggle. The twins are happy kindergartners now. The hospital changed their policy after they saw the effect of putting the two girls together, and now they bed multiples together. Let us not forget to embrace those whom we love and never underestimate the power of a hug!

The School Bus

Long last, I am now a senior. I’ve been going through a student’s daily routine for almost three months. At least, we have these three days break. Our very much awaited retreat. My classmates would gladly talk about whom they would want to seat with, what would their baon be, and the things they would want to do. We are all super excited about this. But my thrill falls upon the riding of the school bus.

It would be my first time, but I was always enchanted with its curtains, its mirrors and its seats. Last year, I would stare at it and see my reflection. I was always this awful and in this school grounds I am nothing. It wasn’t easy at all. I would want you to see me but you would not. You have already deserted me, and I’m without help. You have taken miles forward but I am rooted to this.

You rode this bus a year ago. You were seated on the third row near the window. I came to school that early just to see you leave. I was dreaming that you would direct your eyes on me, but you never did. I will be seating on the same spot today. Maybe you are still there. I can live your memories; your gentle face, your sweet smile and your silky hair. I hope a single strand has been left.

The cool breeze of the air-conditioned bus makes me shiver. It was reasonable enough that you’re wearing your pink jacket that day. Good thing I brought my black. If you were just here, our colors would match. Maybe we can talk until we reach Tagaytay. Well, what an illusion! Right now, perhaps you are still sleeping with your college friends in your dormitory and all of you had never known me. I will just spend my time sleeping in the same seat you occupied, after the group’s prayer is accomplished. I am a weirdo and I can just simply do anything I want here. I can be asleep until I reach there.

The first sunlight of dawn then touches me. I was awakened. Now my classmates are all impatient. I can hear them complaining restless because of the long trip. I sigh and get myself silent. If you were just here, what would you feel? Would you complain too? Or would you simply smile at the world like you always do?

Five kilometers traveled. You are inundating my thoughts. You are the same person who left me in bitterness and tears. You are the same person who drowned me to yourself. You did not even learn about any of this. It’s your little actions and graceful moves. It is all it takes to let me live.

Maybe you are now building your busy life. In ways I know not. In ways you know not. There is someone behind you; someone who loved you and someone who still loves you.

You may not even know me, but my love knows you. It will always see you no matter where, when and how. I am a man and I know it will. I will stand for it. I am a man and seasons may come, but I will still be this man. Either in or out of the school bus.