I waited patiently for an opportunity, and when it was undoubtedly my turn, I reached for it. Just at that moment, this girl, sitting in front of it and done signing her name in, snatched it away from my reach, handed it to someone else, and turned to look me in the face.

Slightly shocked, I pretended not to notice. My typical reaction: The lack of one.

I brushed it off at first, as I always do, thinking it was nothing. But of course I was aware of her from that day onward.

When someone catches my attention, I search for his/her friendster profile. I don’t consider it a major spying deed because I know others also do it, especially with their crushes. Who knows, maybe even she’s been checking out my profile, reading my blog.

At first I could only guess, but once I wrote about how I really wanted a car and to learn how to drive. I checked again and the contents of her profile changed. Something about how she loves learning to drive with her boyfriend, about stepping on the brakes at the right moment and stuff. I wrote about tank tops, and next meeting she was wearing one.

Later, I wrote about her and what I thought of the issue, the unedited version of this article, and something else appeared on her page: "You’re not as high as you think. You may feel like it, but you’re not. Remember that." And that’s when I was sure she had been reading.

Another thing I found written in her profile, the line I reacted and wrote on, read: "If nothing were impossible, I would make all posers and fakers extinct." I wondered if that was it.

I asked my bestfriend, Ianne, whom I turn to whenever I need an unbiased opinion, if I seemed like a poser.

"No."

"Of course you don’t think so. You know me. What if you didn’t know me?"

And after a moment of thought, she replied, "Ay... pwede."

This girl I’m talking about, she’s pretty and the type who prides herself in being real. She’s not the only one of her kind that I know of. Pretty but simple "real" girls who abhor their fellow pretty girls who, to them, seem more high maintenance, more demure, who wear make-up, pretty girls who seem aware of what they have, and who seem to enjoy their place in society.

You want to know what I think? As I told Ianne one day, "Ang hypocrita naman nila. Kahit naman sila alam nilang maganda sila."

If there’s anything I find more irking than plain iniquity, it’s hypocrisy. I actually prefer those who can tell me, without batting an eyelash, that they’re beautiful, that they’re this and that (as long as it’s true).

Between airheads and the pa-humble, pa-real people, I very much prefer airheads. Some of them make good friends, really; I’ve had a few. At least whatever there is to be annoyed about them is all on the surface, not hidden behind a humble, easy to get along with facade.

And you can’t just make me believe that you’re real and down to earth. Why not? Because I’ve been there. People started to notice my looks when I was in 6th grade. I never said a word; on the surface, I didn’t change. But I let it get into my head. My conceit and pride were hidden, but they existed.

And another reason why you can’t get me to buy such acts is because I know just how hard it is to keep your ego from inflating.

I let it get into my head. Little did I know that I actually depended on it already, the fact that I was considered beautiful.

One day, I lost it. Not physically, but in some other deceiving way. The guy I really liked fell for another; I realized that this time around, I had absolutely no suitors and admirers; people stopped telling me I was beautiful.

I know all these were shallow, but that was exactly what I was —shallow. I was crushed, really crushed. I had no self-esteem to speak of. No one told me I was ugly, but that wasn’t the point. I’d gotten so used to being a step above the rest, and now I felt I was fading into the crowd, starting to look regular. That, for me, was ugly.

Thank God, I got through that hell. I learned my lesson. It was hard, very hard, being shattered like that, wanting to kill myself. But even up until now, after having gone through all that, it’s still a challenge for me to stay level headed.

I find myself praying hard every now and then whenever I notice that I have once again started to put myself on a pedestal. My ego maintenance is something I have to do every now and then. And that’s why I don’t like it when people put on "I’m down to earth" shows, because I know how truly hard it is to keep your feet on the ground, especially when you do have something to boast about.

And if you ask me, keeping a sensible and reasonable head is hard enough without trying to seem like Ms. Humility. That’s why I just tell people what’s on my mind. When they ask me if I’m smart, I smile and say yes. Same goes for all my other assets.

I tell my close friends about the days when I turn a lot of heads, about the guys who notice me, the girls who envy me; I even write about it in my blog sometimes. I just tell what there is. I don’t do it every chance I get, though, because that would be plainly showing off. I simply don’t pretend. When I don’t pretend, I’m able to watch myself better, therefore there are less chances of me breeding ego monsters inside without even being aware.

I’m not down to earth, by the way, and I wonder if I ever will be. You guys might’ve picked that up already. I have a feeling down to earth people were either born that way or have gone through some serious fire.

These girls? I wish they’d just cut the "I’m real" crap, admit that they’re beautiful, and that they actually enjoy and are proud of it. I mean, doesn’t it sound ridiculous? What they’re really saying when they say they hate the glam girls is: "I’m pretty, you’re pretty, but you’re not humble and real like I am. You actually care that you’re attractive. Yuck! I’m too real to be affected by my beauty." Now tell me that doesn’t make you want to roll your eyes.

Truth is, real people are too busy living their lives to think up categories of the people they want to get rid of. They just like and dislike. Categories that would cause them to hate those they haven’t even talked to should be hassles.

What about down to earth people, you may ask? Well, all the more. Humility is all about thinking others are better than yourself. Categories of people to hate? Truly humble people just don’t do that.

So there you have it. The bottom line is, as I just said: cut the crap. That is, if you don’t want to be posers and fakers in your own way.

And oh, don’t judge. I’m not just talking about myself, but of others as well. People aren’t always what they seem. In fact, they seldom are.

I shall end this with yet another one of my quotes. Drop the false humility act. If one day God decided to hit all the proud with lightning, you’d still be one of them. You might even get a second strike for being a pharisaical phony.