I Am The Walrus

Ten Minutes Before Leaving Manila I was….

1… in a gray top (that says “Save the Nation Through the Oblation”) and camouflage shorts and gray tsinelas

2… lagging two travel bags and a mailman bag. I overpacked, yes. I planned to jog on both mornings that I was there but failed. Horribly.

3… pissed about two other people on the plane (but this dissipated in time. They’re friends, what’re you gonna do.)

4… sitting beside my techie friend and fiddling with his iPhone. “Jailbroken ito” he’d boasted. Uh, okei.

5… starving, having unanticipated that we’d be boarding the plane by 1130, arriving in Caticlan by 1pm and Bora island by 230pm. 

6… trying to recall the last time I got on a plane and what I did during take off and if I needed to use the paper bag in front of me.

7… thinking about how Cojie would behave during a plane ride and if he’d like it

8…. wondering if there’s an ATM in Boracay

9…. trying not to laugh when the bored Cebu Pac stewardess taught us how to use our lifevests.

10… praying the plane won’t crash because that would be a big bummer.

 

Celebrity Sightings

1. Bernard Palanca

2. Rajo Laurel

3. Abby Cruz (Paolo Bediones’ girlfriend)

4. Andrew Wolff (di na nadala ito hahaha)

5. Mo Twister

6. Mojo Jojo

7. Marc Nelson

8. Bamboo Manalac (he was in concert)

9. Papa Dom of Tropical Depression (he was in concert too)

10.  Kat Alano (don’t know her? yeah, me neither.)

 

Officemate Sightings (harhar)

1. JF, the tiny AE who laughs real loud

2. CU of MSG’s Chinese Mafia

3. MSG alumna AG

4. The hearththrob (according to him haha) of radio sales, ND

5. Tall and svelte, partying in Heather’s, QTV’s JS

And finally

6. Whiter than white TdL

7. My new seatmate JL

8. Aforementioned techie with the jailbroken iPhone JZ

9. The only girl I know who can take and takes a good picture, GQ; and

10. MSD alum ML

because they were with me haha. 

 

Grub & Gulp

1. Mang Inasal (pecho and achara and fried rice)

2. Jonah’s Shakes (mango banana and Jonah’s pizza)

3. Guilly’s Island (frozen margarita)

4. Sidebeach (wala namang sidewalk haha) stalls of inihaws (hotdog and daing na pusit)

5. Eat-all-you-can seafood (shrimps, clams, oysters, porkchop, eggplant)

6. Eat-all-you-can mongolian grill (I went crazy here)

7. Cafe Mediterranean (beef gyro and marinated olives)

8. Samba (pitcher of margarita, fries, calamares)

9. Some breakfast place near our place (can’t remember the name)

10. Starbucks (Mint capuccino for day 1, Latte for day 2)

 

Reasons why I’m exhausted

1. Watched/danced/sang with Tropical Depression and other reggae bands in the concert event of MTV called Rasta Rhythms. Bilog na naman ang buwan.

2. Posed ala-FHM on the beach because TdL’s boyfriend is a photog-wannabe. I think those pictures will never see the light of day.

3. Office gossip in the middle of the ocean. Hahaha.

4. Island hop (we missed puka beach, though. Waves were cruel because of the stupid storm).

5. “Listened” to Bamboo’s concert sponsored by Smart. Too many people in the venue so we decided to stay at the resto behind the stage and listen to him howl while we sipped on (almost waterlike) margaritas.

6. Frisbeed (we lost the frisbee boohoo)

7. Had a tattoo of a yin-yang sun on my shoulder which my son vehemently contested when I got home.

8. Bought pasalubong galore for my family

9. Continued office-gossip in Starbucks heehee

10. Danced alongside (not WITH — there’s a difference) smelly foreigners in Summer Place. Could see half-naked caucasian woman dancing on the DJ’s counter.

 

Ten Things I Learned from this trip

1. What people REALLY like in Boracay is walking around with barely any clothes on and it’s ok. And that goes for both beautiful people and … um…. those that are not.

2. You can’t wake up early in the morning to jog in Boracay. Those plans are only for places like Tagaytay or Batangas. In Bora, you can’t. Because you just slept.

3. You also can’t live blog in Bora. There’s just too many things to do. So next time, I have to leave you, laptop.

4. Water-resistant and waterproof are two very different things (my watch died).

5. We have such a beautiful country. Why are we screwing it up?

6. Based on photographic evidence and reliable feedback, I have nice shoulders and I should always flaunt it.

7. You can still have fun in Boracay even if it’s raining.

8. I don’t think I would have enjoyed Boracay if it weren’t for friends. These friends, in particular.

9. “The Real Coffee Place” — for calamansi muffins.

10. Must conceal any future tattoos from Cojie.

 

This trip is brought to you by…. (Brands that peppered the beachfront in my 3-day stay)

1. Smart

2. Nestea Fit

3. Nescafe (with the guys and the hot bods heehee)

4. MTV

5. Premium Condoms (Did you know that Asia Agcaoili, endorser of Premium condoms, is pregnant? harharhar)

6. Ginebra San Miguel

7. ETC

8. Jack TV

9. Century Tuna (we missed the hot bods finals because our friend was a die-hard Bamboo fan. So she paid for our fries and calamari. hehehe)

10. PAL Express

 

Ten Minutes before I left Caticlan I ….

1…. was very disappointed with breakfast. Small serving of tocino, sucky coffee, cup of rice, and an egg. For P250. “Beachfront kasi” GQ said. For ambiance, you pay twice the value.

2…. was weighed before departure. I gained 4 pounds. Yikes.

3…. entered the pre-departure area which had pay-per-view of the Pacquiao fight on Solar Access.

4…. was non-chalant about the whole Pacquiao thing but happy for the rest of my friends who were beside themselves, thinking we would miss it because our flight was at lunch.

5…. saw an old officemate, AG. “Ang payat mo!” she exclaimed. And to think I had just gained 4 lbs.

6…. thought that though Manny Pacquiao has been asshole-like in the last few months, there’s no contesting that he’s an amazing athlete.

7…. thought that Ricky Hatton fought like a street bully. (I was maka-Manny for the duration of one hour)

8…. clapped and cheered with the rest of the people in the pre-departure area as Hatton fell on his knees in round 1. (One of the Korean tourists had to be paged because his plane was leaving and he was still glued to the TV)

9…. stood up and rejoiced with the crowd when Pacquiao delivered that visibly very painful blow to Hatton’s jaw and the Brit fell like a log. Timberrrrrrr!!!!!!!!

10…. realized I had an awesome trip

Let me begin with a high-pitched “Uuuuuuyyyyyy!!!!! Kamustaaaaa????!!!!! Tagal natin di nag-usap!!!!!!!” since my last entry was three weeks ago. Ugh.

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I am gym-ing. I like my little gym. It’s a few blocks away from work. It’s cheap. Everybody just leaves me alone. It’s freaking hot — perfect for sweating (what’s the point of pumping iron if you won’t sweat?). And a few steps away is Tomas Morato.

I look forward to the end of the work out when I get to hop under the scalding hot shower, close my eyes, and let thousands and thousands of tiny little drops of blazing hot water pat me in the back — because no one else would.

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Cojie turned six. He is, among other things, territorial.

I bought him a box of clay this weekend and he was absolutely ecstatic, especially when his Kuya Jerry taught him how to make little clay dice.

He then displayed his dice on our bookshelf and wrote (without anyone teaching him how to!) on a piece of paper: “BAWAL HAWAKAN ANG CLAY”

But then he changed his mind, took down the piece of paper, scribbled on another sheet, and put up this sign “PWEDE HAWAKAN ANG CLAY PERO MAGHUGAS NG KAMAY”.

Madali naman pala kausap e…..

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My poor kid is also super bored at home. And it’s only been two weeks since school was out. So when I take him out to the mall or buy him a happy meal, the twinkle in his eyes is almost…. scary.

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I saw this quote somewhere. Can’t remember where, but it was funny.

“It’s better to lose a lover than to love a loser”

NOTE: HELLO EXES. Didn’t mean anything by this. No pun intended. You have to admit, it’s funny.

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Speaking of exes, I have a beef to settle with ex no.3. He told me TEN YEARS AGO that Rai Rai Ken, the japanese resto, was horrible. “Don’t go there” he said “Horrible food” he said.

Last week, since I didn’t eat dinner before going to the gym, I decided to keep it conservative and have japanese food. I trodded over to Rai Rai Ken and had awesome miso soup, sashimi and shrimp salad roll.

The moment the miso soup touched my lips, I murmured. “T*ngina mo _______”. I’m never taking restaurant advice from an ex ever again.

(Went back to have lunch there the following day. I had seafoods hotpot and couple of salmon rolls. It was so damn good. )

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It was cool for Royal Tru Orange to briefly bring back the “Ito Ang Gusto Ko” ad of Francis Magalona as a tribute to him. I thought that was nice of them.

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It saddens me that a lot of the people I care for likes ABS more than GMA. And that I can’t sway them over to my side because the affection is so deep, it’s almost sexual hahaha.

My Ate is a big influence in my life. Though I’m technically an only child, I was raised a middle child, between an older girl cousin, Ate Chinchin and a younger boy cousin, Bojie. I grew up worshipping the cool older “sister” who was (and still is) pretty and smart and hip. She was such a big influence in my life that once upon a time, I was ten years old, and my little cousin (her brother) approached her to ask for her help with an essay and from across the room I hear her say “Si Ajie na lang, mas magaling siya sumulat kesa sa akin“. And I was like “Wow, really?”. So that kicked off my (pseudo) writing career.

(She probably just wanted to pawn off our annoying little brother to me, but why would I want to think that?)

My Ate was also a big musical influence to me. Because of her, I loved Tears for Fears, Duran Duran, Gene Loves Jezebel. In 1990, as she went off to college and me to high school, she brought in the household rap music.

Of course the adults of our home absolutely loathed Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer and Andrew E, save for one artist. “Ah, yan ba yung anak ni Tita Duran at Pancho Magalona?” my mom would say.

My Ate introduced me to Francis Magalona.

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Between 1994 to 1995, there were three cassette tapes (yeesh!) that I wore out until it sounded like the artists were singing with a pillow over their faces. Those albums were Ultraelectromagneticpop, Circus and Cutterpillow.

Interchanged with those three was Francis Magalona’s Freeman.

The Freeman album would first explode with Baw-waw-waw, my favorite Francis Magalona song (for some weird reason). I’m not fond of dogs. I don’t eat dogs. I’ve never been fed dogs. But that song just has a way of invading your consciousness with great acoustic, great percussion and of course, great good ole Tagalog rap.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvaSUXecPzk

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My Cutterpillow cassette tape was purchased along with two free tickets to the Eraserheads concert at the UP Sunken Garden. My parents were morally pissed off because I said I’d be home by 12 midnight but instead came home at 1am. Eh, it’s the Eraserheds, damn it.  I was turning nineteen.

As Baw-waw-waw was to Freeman, Superproxy was to Cutterpillow.

Even if 80% of Superproxy is Ely Buendia, that tail-end 20% rap of Francis M. was the upgrade.

Superproxy was the theme song of the angsty 90s generation, just with its starting line. “Sawa ka na ba sa mga hassel sa buhay mo? Ayaw mo na bang mag-isip para sa sarili?” It was the soundtrack of my early college years, spending days and nights solving math problems I doubt anybody really cares about. (The integral of a cubed plus b quared plus c? Who the f*ck gives a sh*t?).

Then Francis Magalona goes “I play video games all day. Zipidee doo dah, zipidee day,  hip hop hooray”. And you quietly snicker as you purposely screw up your calculus quiz. Ah screw it, I’m going to Masscomm.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pDeR3SfvFk

(When news broke that Francis Magalona died, I didn’t cry. I was at lunch with some friends. When I came back to my desk, the guy sitting next to me started to play Superproxy on his computer, and that’s when I cried.

The next day, Saturday, during the Eat Bulaga tribute, the same first few bars of the song played and I thought “Ely’s in Bulaga? Ely can’t be in Bulaga! The E-heads concert is tonight!”. You know who came out to do the song? Chito Miranda. He couldn’t sing at first, he was choking back the tears, he was obviously crying. At which I bawled like an infant.)

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Francis M also collaborated with another of my favorite bands, Parokya ni Edgar. It was entertaining to see Francis work with Ely and the rest of the E-heads because they were equals — like Frank Sinatra dueting with Elvis Presley. Parokya ni Edgar on the other hand, was like Frank Sinatra and … Justin Timberlake heehee. As much as they tried to look cool, it was obvious how much Chito and  the others worshipped him.

In Inuman Sessions, Francis M infused the bordering-on-moronic (but enjoybale nevertheless!) song Yes Yes Show with hard core Rock N Roll just by starting off his rant (along with awesome electric guitar — thanks Darius!) with “Ang magkaaway ipagbati, gumitna ka at huwag kumampi”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjJnQoRAiE8&feature=related

He also did the song “Bagsakan” with Parokya ni Edgar and Gloc 9 which was the higlight of the album Matira Matibay.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8HHNIlcsek&feature=related

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Gary Valenciano brought with him footage from his Major Impact concert in 1990, of Francis Magalona singing Mga Kababayan and I got goosebumps. Well, of course, because he’s gone. But…. because I looked at his backup dancers, and I distinctly remember those steps hahaha…..

“Di ko alam kung pano tatapusin ang kanta, kaya ganito na lang bigla na lang mawawala….”

Two people broke up this week and I can vouch for at least one of them that she’s devastated. Crying has become an involuntary response, her eyes had been hurting so much from crying everyday that she had to buy eye cream to keep the swelling down.

There are good breakups and then there are bad breakups. Bad breakups usually involve criminal activities such as cheating, stealing, slander/libel or murder. Good breakups are just two people who have agreed that it’s not working out anymore, or that it doesn’t seem to be working out right now and perhaps it’s best to pull away from each other for a while.

But good breakups aren’t entirely good. You’re left with the feeling of hope, which can be either false or real hope. I can, again, vouch for one of the two individuals that she still feels hopeful but as the days go by, that tiny candle is slowly losing oxygen.

Right now, all the girl wants to do is turn off that part of her brain that triggers the memories.

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Valentine’s Day was make-up day for me. In the last two weeks, at least five people have told me the following:

1. “We have a presentation on (certain date) I hope you don’t mind, perhaps you should wear makeup” (from my boss hehe)

2. “You know, you’re pretty naman e, you just need to enhance your features with make-up”

3. “Ime-makeover kita! Hanap tayong makeup!”

4. “You look great in your Christmas office party photos (I was wearing makeup)”

5. “Make-up…. make-up…… dumdeedumdeedum….something about the weather…. make-up”

So I decided that I will finally have to invest in this damn thing.

I trudged over to Beauty Bar in Shangri-la to meet Fafi and Joy. When I came in, I pretended to fiddle with the lipstick and the brushes and the eyeshadow, but was stopped in my tracks when the saleslady came up to me to ask what I needed.

“Uh, guys, a little help?” I called to my girlfriends.

I felt like a room that needs cleaning. Fafi, Joy and saleslady looked at me like they wanted to rearrange my face. “She needs concealer that’s a lighter shade than her skin” said Fafi. “You don’t need eyeshadow, definitely eyeliner” piped Joy. “Get the blush, she needs blush” said the saleslady.

They sat me down — slouched as always — and proceeded to test the items on my face. Concealer to cover my darn dark spots. Loose powder. Blush. Eyeliner. Lipstick.

Here’s what I hate about wearing make-up — it’s obvious that I’m wearing make-up. I’ve been in an almost make-up-less atmosphere for the last nine, ten years in GMA and I’ve lived by the philosophy that I was hired, and I’m being paid, to think and not be pretty. Apparently, with the recent events at work, that is no longer true.

I looked at myself in the mirror after the saleslady (I remember her name — Micah!) was done attacking my face. Wasn’t so bad. I liked the eyeliner effect around my eyes, it made me look bitchy hehe. And the blush and the lipstick weren’t too pink nor too red, it was as if I got out of a really hot bath or sauna.

Here’s what I bought. I’m writing down the brands too because somebody out there might be using it and I am in dire need of tips— whether I should change my brand, or if it’s a good brand, or what brand is better, and so on.

My make-up kit (Ta-da!):

1. Natural Rice Oil-absorbing Rice Powder (Original Ancient Chinese Secret Formula…. oooh)

2. Prestige Blushing Duo — Blush & Highlighter

3. Prestige Light Response Self-Adjusting Undereye Concealer

4. Prestige Waterproof Automatic Eyeliner (Flanel Gray)

5. Prestige Lipstick - Mocha

6. Eyelash Curler, Blush Brush, Loose Powder brush

Prior to my purchase, I did some crazy research and came across brand names like Mac, Shu Uemura, Bobbi Brown, Bare Escentuals (can somebody enlighten me on mineral make-up?), Too Faced, Smashbox, among others. I’ve looked them up too and they are chi-ching! But I’d love to hear success/horror stories so I know what to use, help a girl out.

So…. weight loss, check. Hair treatments, check. Facials, check. Make-up, check. What’s next? Botox, perhaps? Harharhar….

Melancholy apparently brings out the writer in me. I’ve been sad the last few days. Proof is in the dark circles under my eyes that have gone from gray to blue to purple.

I’ve been crying a lot. But I don’t want to tell. I’m still hoping someday I can tell the world of that story because it’s a wonderful love story, but I still can’t.

It’s true that Valentine’s day serves no real purpose — love should be celebrated all year round. Boyfriends should give girlfriends flowers every damn day even if it would endanger the existence of the rose plant species. Husbands should take their wives out on dates and make them feel sexy and wanted every damn day even if it means upping the country’s population. But it’s an effective marketing ploy and everybody benefits from it — even the networks hardyharhar.

(I’m supposed to plug the movie When I Met U out of loyalty to GMA but Richard Gutierrez annoys me and I loathe KC Concepcion for deep-seated reasons)

I’m a girl. I want the flowers. I want the chocolates in a heart-shaped box. I want the free dinner (heck, who doesn’t?). I want a guy to tell me I’m beautiful and I want a guy to stare at me like he needs to. There, I said it. And come Valentine’s day, I want it even more.

But alas… tragically (naks), this is the nth Valentine’s day that I will be celebrating it alone.

Well, not really alone. When I came home from work last night, my son gave me a piece of paper with the words “Valentine Happy” scribbled inside a red heart and the words “Mama” and “Cojie” on either side of the heart. My son has lovely handwriting, did you know? It’s weird because neither me nor the sperm-donor a.k.a. his father had good handwriting.

Also, for about three years now, I’ve been celebrating Valentine’s Day with my girlfriends Fafilicious and Joy the Jowable. We just hang out somewhere, sip on coffees and make fun of ugly couples harharhar.

Sigh.

I sometimes think maybe there are just people built for certain functions. There’s a woman meant to be a wife. Meant to be a mother. Meant to be a sister. Meant to be a daughter. Meant to be a girlfriend. Meant to be a friend. There are those who can be all of these, but there are those who will only be one or two of these at a time. Or for the rest of their lives.

I think I’m an awesome friend. I’m good at daughtering. I’m average at mothering. Maybe I’m not really built to be a wife, thus the lack of relationships. I look at friends of mine who are married and they’re just a different species to me. For one thing, they’re not as….. crazy as I am hahaha.

Or perhaps there’s a skill I have yet to learn? At 32? Damn. (I just realized now that the statement above appears lewd and obscene but it definitely isn’t.)

I’m at a Taco Bell and there’s a couple in front of me enjoying a burrito. Clackityclackclackclackclack….. I’m out of endings. I’m stuffing my laptop back in my bag and heading home.

Feb 7, Saturday, 845am

We finally arrive at the chapel, Madamayan driving in her gown and white heels which she was trying to hide from the bride all day because she had strict instructions that we’re supposed to wear silver shoes.

I loved the wedding chapel. It seats only about 80 people, like a classroom, only bigger. When the choir started singing, I looked at the bride and groom and they were singing along, as enthusiastic as the rest of the choir. Oh yeah, that’s how they met. They have been singing for the same church choir for the last six or seven years.

It was the most uncomfortable mass of my life. My face packed with makeup, I can’t slouch in my gown, I had to carry a stupid bouquet of flowers, and I had a camera I can’t use because I can’t run around because of my stupid gown. So if anyone out there is getting married and you plan to give me a role, can you sign me up somewhere else? Like a Bible reading? Or a dance number?

So the groom, Joyousnoel, was ecstatic about the kiss at the end of the ceremony because Singerica is such a prude. We’ve been going out with them for years and years and I’ve never seen them kiss, not even a peck on the cheek. Joyousnoel is a perfect gentleman, but I know deep down he is (or wants to be) an exciting luvah. So when they got to the kiss in the end, and Joyousnoel kissed his new wife, he relished it and enjoyed it but was gentle about it. It was perfect.

I love Singerica, but she has her eccentricities. I have to admit, sometimes she’s hard to get along. But she’s funny as hell and she laughs at my craziness, so we hang out. And I love that Joyousnoel just accepted her eccentricities, her tantrums, her prudence! And the pride in Joyousnoel’s face when he hugged his wife for the first time — it was like all the trials they went through just fluttered away.

Me and Glutina start crying. Eye make-up! Eye make-up!, I joked. I’m crying because Singerica is crying and Joyousnoel is crying. Happy for them, sure. But I know you know what I’m thinking.

 

1030am

Can we just get to the buffet now? Stupid tradition, we have to catch the bouquet. Or pretend to catch the bouquet. Instead we all kept dodging it.

I conspired with Madamayan and pretended to be in deep conversation with her as the whole bouquet toss was happening. “Is that a bird?” I pointed to the sky. Madamayan laughed. Bride tosses the bouquet and it falls on a bush. Everybody laughs. She tosses it again and the event host catches it. Good for her.

The irony, though. I know each and everyone of those bridesmaids — all four of us. All four of us are dying to get married. Just itching for a wedding. Excited about falling in love and being in love and powering through a relationship just to walk down that aisle. But catching the bouquet kind of pressures all of us into a deadline which we will, most probably, not meet.

Bouquets shouldn’t be tossed anymore, just awarded. With a certificate signed by God saying “You will get married in x number of months”. Now that’s a bouquet I’d fight for.

 

1130am

Intimate chapel, intimate reception. We went back to the hotel for the grub, which was good. Two points for Legend Villas. The buffet was nice — salad, chicken croquettes, calamares, grilled fish with lemon sauce, roasted chicken (didn’t eat that), roast beef (hate beef) and for dessert, french pastries (eclairs! yum!).

There were only about 10 tables and by now everybody knew everybody else, having spent the last 3 hours together. Big weddings truly are for people who want to announce to everyone in their social circle that “Hey, somebody wants to spend the rest of their life with me. Check it out!”. Small weddings are really for celebrating with people you love.  

The event was hosted by my friend GenQ — we’ll call her that so it’s nice and funky, like Rihanna or Beyonce. GenQ came in a nice blue dress that was partially backless that the conservative bride had disapproved earlier. So that’s Madamayan’s white heels and GenQ’s backless dress — we love Singerica but we don’t do what she says hehehe.

Along with GenQ is her husband HaroldQ who is, in my book, a professional photographer because it’s only in his camera that I look prettier than I’m supposed to be. HaroldQ tells me he thinks I would look good on a photoshoot lying down in bed, my arm over my head or something like that. Right. Who would buy that magazine?

Singerica and Joyousnoel sang Bakit Ba Ganyan. Galing ng blending! harharhar. I’m surrounded by couples like this everyday, seemingly different people, whose differences often turn to arguments, but there’s always one thing that brings them together. Glutina and her boyfriend Grumpaul (he’s been grumpy lately, but I love him) love videoke like no one else I know. They dance and sing with arms flailing, even if they’re out of tune. When I see them singing videoke, I understand what brought them together.

Joyousnoel and Singerica are more serious type of singers — kind of like Isay Alvarez and Robert Sena. And as they sing, you know these two people are entering into this wedding not just voluntarily but enthusiastically. They really want to spend their lives together.

When the parents are called in to make their speech, I reach for my hanky again. I am crying way too much on this wedding. But this one, I can explain. I remember my mom saying she dreams of putting on a nice barong gown and walking me down the aisle with my dad, offering me to the man I’m going to marry. Once in a while, she tells me she still believes in that dream. Ah, screw it. I don’t know anymore.

 

1pm

Yes! Take me to my hotel room! Get me out of this gown! When the ceremony was over, we kissed the bride and groom goodbye and hurried our way back to our rooms. Give me tsinelas or give me death!

I used up a small pack of cotton to take out the thick makeup on my face and when I looked in the mirror, I recognized myself again. Hey there, dark circles. I missed ya.

HaroldQ brought out his laptop and showed us the pictures he got from the wedding and we all laughed our asses off. The doorbell rang and it’s the bride and groom, back in their house clothes, like nothing happened. As the slideshow of photos started, we watched a series of solos of the bride, to which Joyousnoel quietly remarked “Ang ganda ni Rica, ano?”.

We checked out at around 3pm. Glutina’s meeting up with Grumpaul (grumpy but still has time for his girlfriend), Chestelle went off to buy bread for her mom, and I got a text from my own mom, saying my son misses me and wants a Pokemon happy meal.

Everybody went home happy.

Feb 6, Friday 11:26 pm

I’m at The Legend hotel with my friends Glutina and Chestelle. They’re soundly sleeping since we have to wake up at an ungodly hour so we can get ready for our friend, Singerica’s wedding tomorrow.

It’s only a matter of hours before she will be officially changing her last name from Tiu to Rafael. I don’t know about the rest of married life, but having to change the way you write your name, as it is, is a big deal for me.

I am a bridesmaid. At 32. Like being a flowergirl at seventeen. I have no idea what a bridesmaid does. At around 1030pm, Singerica, the bride, came in our room to tell us what to do — misalettes, souvenirs, guestbook. To which I quipped “Ay, akala ko maglalakad lang hahaha“.

I’m supposed to walk down the aisle alongside the vet host of Born To Be Wild but apparently he had to go shoot an episode and won’t be able to make it. Dang. Now I have to take the arm of some guy named Joema.

January was kind of a sucky month but February is looking a lot peachier. And not just for me, for a lot of people in my circle.The boyfriend of one of my friends will be coming home this month, just days before Valentine’s day, after having spent months in Congo. My cousin might might might get a good paying job in Indonesia. And now one of my closest friends is getting married to a good man who has also become our friend over the last five years.

Things are looking up for me too, but I still can’t tell you.

Blog again in a few hours.

 

Feb 7, Saturday, 4:48 AM

Didn’t sleep. Couldn’t sleep. Too worried about catching the bouquet and having one of the groomsmen put a garter up my thigh. Not because I’m a prude, which I most certainly am not hahaha, but because the groom said they were “mostly unattractive”.

Must have coffee. Not used to being awake this early on a Saturday without some sort of 2-hour trip involved.

Gay make-up artist to arrive in an hour. Will update later.

6am

Breakfast. Thank God for buffets. I had cold cuts and cheeses and whole wheat bread and butter and two cups of coffee. Glutina, whose feeding habits I can never understand, ate pansit and some cold cuts and bread and puto pao and finished with some papaya and watermelon. She was going to go back for oatmeal but I expressed my disgust. Eating should have a process of some kind.

Breakfast buffet at Legend is excellent. Can’t say much about everything else, but the buffet is wonderful.

Our friend Madamayan who was supposed to spend the night with us came for breakfast already glammed up. She had puto and papaya. What is wrong with these people.

630am

Hairdresser Nixon arrives with his flamingly gay posse toting makeup kits and I’m immediately intrigued. The last few weeks, certain individuals — important individuals — have encouraged (yes, not forced) me to explore the possibilities of enhancing my features via makeup. I am seriously considering it, I promise. I’m thoroughly researching it the way I studied weight loss properly before I executed it.

As expected, makeup artist covered the dark circles under my eyes which I’ve had since I was seven, I think hehehe. Concealer galore!

Then. Blue eyeshadow. Ohhhkkkeiii…

Then. Pink lipstick. I rolled my eyes.

Two blowdryers were at full blast as the haridressers started their work on our friend who had also arrived. At which, the power went out. Yes. We short-circuited the place. Twice. Minus points for Legend.

Glutina with her glutathione-enriched-like complexion was a breeze to put make up on. Chestelle’s kinky hair was ironed straight. I had pink lipstick. Life’s not fair.

(Wedding ceremony when I wake up)

I don’t usually blog in the middle of the week but I just had to. When I logged on to Friendster, I saw my friend Sheryll’s shoutout read “Happiness is worth fighting for”.

This girl flew to the US to meet her online boyfriend, a white guy from Arizona about ten years her senior, and now she’s been with him since November and is probably getting married (if not had gotten married).

I both admire her and am scared for her but she seems genuinely happy.

I’m too much of a coward, I guess.

Ironic that a teeny tiny third world country like ours seems (so far) unfazed by the US recession. So far, everyone I know still has their jobs, still can afford their daily dose of Starbucks and still can drink their body weight every Friday.

Someone very close to me works for the hotel industry in the US and, as you know, during these hard times, recreation is the first one to go in anyone’s budget — be it corporate or individual clients. He’s one of the many Americans who are looking at their future with doubt and its causing so much anxiety, which is all too understandable.

I’ve advised him that there really is nothing else to do but stay positive and be thankful for the things he has now. And I’m reminded of my friend’s blog a while back when she practically confessed that she finds my positivism annoying hahahaha.

But really, there’s just a point when there’s nothing else to do but sit back and let the universe do its work for you. No matter how hard you try, no matter what you do, there’s just a time when you’ve done all you can and you just have to leave it to God.

My friends have come to me with a variety of issues:

1. “Wala akong boyfriend. Di naman ako pangit”

2. “My boyfriend doesn’t want to get married yet”.

3. “I’m the only sane person in my family, to think I’m the youngest”

4. “My job sucks, my salary sucks and my boss don’t understand.”

5. “I have the most difficult client in the roster.”

6. “My boyfriend is wonderful but my parents don’t like him because he has children.”

And my advice is the same, all the time. STAY POSITIVE. There’s always a silver lining, there’s always something to be thankful for.

Just having your whole family safe and in good health all day every day is something to be thankful for.

Having food to eat on the table everyday. A roof over your head. Clothes to wear.

Money for massage and a pedicure. Or, for the guys, a Lacoste t-shirt.

And people who love you. Oh, my dears, it’s always worth celebrating when you think about all your friends and your family who pause from their busy lives just to say “Hoy, pare, buhay ka pa ba?”.

During crises like these, whatever their form — financial, emotional, spiritual— it’s convenient, hell it’s even fun to turn to self-loathing and wallowing and trapping yourself in a bubble. I understand that, I love to wallow. But like Obama said in his speech, it’s time to dust off oneself and … make this country great again. Huh? What? Yeah, you know what I mean….

I always share to people my daily ritual of going out of the house first thing in the morning and looking up the skies. Whether it’s all blue, kind of cloudy, or raining like hell, I say thank you. Thank you if it’s blue because I love blue skies. Thank you if it’s cloudy then it means it’s not too warm to walk. Thank you if it’s raining because I have an excuse to wear tsinelas to work.

You just need to take a step back, take a deep breath, look at what you’ve accomplished, and as for all the other worries, just say “Hey, Man (God), it’s all you. It’s up to you. I trust you. You haven’t failed me yet. You did that separating-the-ocean thing for Moses, I’m sure you can help me out of this rut.”

And, as I’ve told you (you, Hotel guy, and you, all my friends) I’m just here.

 

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Addendum: Thought about this while at the supermarket. I realize that the reason people find my positivizing philisophy annoying is because I also “tend to” (hehehe) provide — nay FORCE! — a solution to other people’s problems because I like to fix things (or think that I fixed something hehehe). And I apologize for that. Truly, my words can only go so far. Hell, my life’s not perfect either (if you only knew hahaha). But let me assure that it comes from a good place and if I had a magic wand that could solve our collective dilemmas, I will.

You just have to keep on keepin’ on. Yes, I quoted Joe Dirt.