Desperate housewives

Got home late last night from a quiet intimate dinner with three lady friends. A friend wanted to show me the pad she is currently crashing in and I guess a New Year is as good an excuse as any. So she invited me and just for the heck of it, another common friend, and voila, a night of sharing intimacies over red wine, grapes, and kiat kiat.

I do not know if this bodes well for the new year - but boy, did I learn so much about their lives in four hours. Halfway through, I couldn't help but confess that I thought Desperate Housewives was far too twisted to be real; what I didn't realize is that truth is truly stranger than fiction. These ladies had lives that were not just soap opera material - they were grander that the standard soap opera.

No wonder many people could empathize with the real-life TV fare that the major networks seem to be up to. They not only mirror reality - it is reality. When the man in the street says that what they see on TV happens in real life as well, they are not engaging in poetic license, they mean it literally.

Funny thing is, up until last night, I have always thought that these ladies had it so good. I mean I never would have imagined that they too had their share of life's grief and that their shares were peppered with more spice than the usual. Not only does this show that looks can be deceiving - that people can look so put together and yet be crumbling inside; more importantly, it shows that everyone has her own trials in life, no exceptions.

I guess it is true then: life gives you a hand of cards, you make do with yours.

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