Lost love

Disclaimer: if you are a saint who never fell in love with an object (a car, phone, or whatever tickles your fancy), I strongly suggest that you stop reading as this blog would be very frivolous for you.

Warning: for those who get high by scoring deals and getting the objects of their desire, this blog is not for the faint-hearted. Seriously, it's not.

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It was love at first sight. When I saw it on the window, I hastily entered the store and stood in front of the pair. Reverently holding the platform wedges on my hands, I informed the staff that I'd like to try it on my size. After putting both shoes on, I walked around the store, feeling the soles and the way the strap hugs my ankle. It was perfect.

Then came the defining moment: the pair costs PX,XXX.00. Of course, this is normal, considering that it is a Charles and Keith pair. But at that time, my car needed new shoes (tires), mouth and ears (speakers and a head unit), a dress (transmission problems), and its birth certificate (registration). That was my most frugal month as I needed all the cash I can get for my car's repairs and needs.

As an impulsive buyer, it was very hard for me to do the adult thing and walk away from the store. After I did so, my mom and boyfriend teased me, saying I should've bought it.

A month or so later, I was rushed to the emergency room. I was sick and pitiful, and Mom took pity on me and said she'll buy the shoes. Free shoes on itself is always welcome, but that C&K pair has been nagging me for quite a while. I couldn't wait to finally own it and wear on a nice date.

Last weekend, we went to SM Southmall to buy the shoes. Unfortunately, I was promptly informed that the shoes were last season's stock (gulp!) and were already pulled out (gasp!). For every woman out there who fell in love with apparels and whatnots, you know how I felt then. I urged my family to try another branch.



We went to Festival Mall on the same day and I half-ran, half-walked to the store. I saw the pair, asked for it on my size, and promptly tried them on. They were the last pair and I happily snagged them.

My dream shoes and I are finally together.

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Mark and I had a date today. I wore my new shoes for the first time and planned an outfit that would complement my footwear. Mid-afternoon, the ankle straps broke my skin. No problem--this is always the case when breaking in shoes. I whipped out my pretty roll-up shoes and swapped them with my wedges.

After paying for the groceries, Mark brought our stuff to the car while I attended other errands. The shoes were on the pushcart. Blah blah blah, we went home.

That's when disaster struck. After unloading the groceries, the trunk was already empty but my shoes were nowhere to be found. I asked Mark where they were. He responded, "Sa likod." (On the trunk.) I insisted that my shoes were not there. Ever the unbeliever, he shut off the engine and walked to the back, looked at the trunk and went--"Shit. Naiwan ko sa pushcart!" (I left it on the pushcart!) At first I thought he was joking, as he knows how much I wanted the pair. But after thoroughly checking the car, I was forced to admit that the shoes were not there.

It turns out that because my shoes were placed in a black pouch, Mark didn't see them while loading groceries as it was already nighttime. After glaring at him, really, there wasn't anything I could do. My dream pair is gone.

*cue sobs* Of course, they were just shoes. But to me, they were something I wanted for a long time, finally had it, only to lose after a short period of time. Heck, I only wore it once! If that's not disappointing and maddening, then the world is not round. I was heartbroken. Of course, Mark said that he'll buy me a new pair. But given that I already had a hard time finding my first pair, who knows if I'll find another one then?

Maybe the shoes and I are not meant to be together. But in this case, when will you learn to let go? Of course, in case I cannot find another pair, I will concede defeat.

But first, I will raise one hell of a fight.

Back home: A day in the arms of my alma mater

Sometimes even when you're far from where you started, a certain part of you is stuck in the past and you revel in what happened and how it affected your life.  Such is the case when I walked through the paths of De La Salle University -Dasmariñas today with my boyfriend.


Our journey began when we flashed our alumni cards at the guard who mans Gate 2. "Isa lang po ang kailangan," he said, as he waved us inside the campus.  Giddy with excitement, we then parked at a parking lot previously prohibited to students. Alumni na kami, eh. :)

Three years after I graduated, Minxie finally visited the campus. Here she waits along with a twin in the parking lot near the DO's office.

After parking, Mark and I held hands as we walked along the rotunda.  Under the canopy of trees along the main street, we saw students as they go on their routines. Memory after memory surfaced as we talked about our past in the school. We were teasing each other about the D.O.'s, as they were especially strict before about PDAs. As far as I can remember, holding hands was allowed though.

Students

We then went to Mila's Diner, above a canteen we formerly called SBC.  We briefly attended the Broadcast Journalism's Grand Assembly and met up with a couple of friends, Kapatid Ai & Kuya Jay. After staying for 20 minutes or so, Mark and I left to roam around the campus. 

Kuya Jay & Aila. They've been together since forever! :)

We dropped by the Botanical Garden which was being constructed during my stay in the University.  It was the first time we saw it completed. And boy, it sure is beautiful. There are stone benches and arches and stone bridges.  Most of all, it connects the East side of the campus to the West. In other words, students don't have to go through the Lake from the Alumni building to get to the Chapel.

Me: All smiles as I enjoy the beauty of the Botanical Garden

And because this is a trip down memory lane, mind the gap. If you want to know what happened  in this lake, you'll have to ask me personally. *wink*

Of course, what visit to the University will be complete without going through the football field? Mark and I are athletes, and football is one of the sports we both play.  Despite not having any gear and being dressed a wee bit formalish (I was wearing suede boots with thin soles. Obviously, I'm not dressed for football), we kicked a football around along with other players.  They were all younger than us, but it was encouraging and reassuring to know that our kicks still have direction despite not playing for a long time. 

During our short scrimmage in the field, a fellow footballer kicked the ball too wide.  I suddenly found myself running after the ball--hair flying everywhere, my necklace bouncing on my chest, one hand clutching my iPhone, the other hand supporting the car key that's looped on my belt--catching up with the ball, stopping its momentum, and giving it a solid kick.  Twack! As it sailed to Gabe, I felt fulfilled.  For those few seconds, I felt the buzz of adrenaline. I felt alive. 

The football field. Oh football, how I miss you so. 

Of course, we also passed by all the buildings and said hello to our former professors, at least in my case since Mark couldn't drop by his course's faculty building as CEAT is now condemned.  During my stay in the University, CEAT used to be the most beautiful building.  Sayang. We even saw a canteen attendant who used to scold me for drinking too much soda--and she remembered us! We also visited our old "spots" in the University--the kubos, the batibots, the buildings--as we remembered our first few months together. 

Mark and I. :)

Visiting DLSU-D is a gratifying experience. We were able to reminisce and see how beautiful our school has grown. Aside from the physical changes within the University, we also felt the changes that happened within ourselves--how far we both have come after graduating from ULS. 

Most people say that belonging to an elite school does not guarantee success. In our case, yes, it did not guarantee our success. We worked hard to earn our current places and got where we are right now without compromising our values--but really, when you think about it, we learned some of these values in De La Salle. We were prepared emotionally by our courses to confront the "real" world outside the walls of the University. Among these lessons, the most important ones I remember are as follows: do not give up, fight for what is right, if you want something, stop asking for it and do something to get it. And most importantly, let Jesus let in our lives.

I guess this pretty much sums up the day. Animo La Salle!

The Resemblance between a Pitbull and a Cow

This one is from June 26, 2012.  In the loving memory of Boogie and Lance, our two babies who passed away at the same day. 


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Our little monster, Lance

My brother and I walked our big dogs yesterday. Armed with a useless water-drinking tool for dogs, and extra bottles of water for our babies, we started our trek toward the treacherous stray dog-infested realm. Imagine us as we started our journey, my brother leading his overweight fighting line pitbull Lance, with me following the rear with my huge overgrown golden retriever, Boogie.

We started out by passing the back streets to avoid cars and other what-nots. Upon the second street, mongrels started barking at Lance, but were too intimidated to approach him so they bullied Boogie, who just stared back. The other dogs were barking frantically, while Kuya was straining to hold back Lance from butchering them, and Boogie looked on the interesting spectacle.

We made it pass the second street without any major events, aside from Boogie taking a huge dump in the middle of the street and my ears still ringing from the barking.

We were then on our way towards the public market. We again passed by the back to avoid people and cars. Halfway upon our path, the stray dogs started yapping at Lance again. This time a bitch approached too near, and Lance immediately lashed out and bit her face. The female dog scampered away, whimpering. This ignited the anger in the dogs, and one of them followed us on our way, relentlessly barking at Lance, sniffing at Boogie, and walking behind our heels. I was getting agitated because the dog is sure to have rabies, and Kuya told me that it's okay and when we get a little further he's going to let Lance devour the dog.


When we were away from the market, the dog came too near for comfort and Lance bit him on his back. The dog was hurt and ran away as well.

Okay, actually, the dogs were not the biggest threat in our walk. It was the Mother Cow.

The four of us were resting on a nearby road, when Kuya noticed a full grown cow inching toward us with her eyes set on Lance. I stood up and led Boogie to the other side of the street to avoid the cow, but the cow stopped in front of Boogie and gazed at him. To my amazement, my golden retriever just.. Stared back! They were locked in a fierce no blinking contest, when the cow sidestepped nearer to Lance, and Lance suddenly attacked. Kuya instinctively held him back by the leash, but in the quiet of the road we heard the "clack clack" - the sound of Lance's teeth as he snapped at the cow. This went on for several minutes, until Kuya and I saw the whole herd of cows approaching us, and we decided to leave.

Were we invading their privacy? I hope not. But the next time we walk there, I'm bringing along a camera to show Lance, Boogie, and the cow, all in the shades of golden brown, as they stand side by side. Perhaps the cow thought that Lance was her missing child, because he's got the build of a cow. Or perhaps she saw Lance nibbling on the grass and she thought, what kind of a cow is that?

Boogie and I, wrestling on the ground.

Reading and the Words of a Writer

Because I'm so scattered brain that I post bits and pieces of myself in different platforms, I wanted to collate everything (or everything I can find, that is) and place them here.  This is one of those old pieces, a blast from the past from June 28, 2010.  


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Image Credit:  CopyWritingOnline

After reading for decades, some of you might think this is highly unusual, but I only realized this one nugget of knowledge last night.

Last night, I was taking a bath when I realized, how blissful would it be to sink into a tub full of hot water. We had bathtubs in our old apartments in the US and Saudi, but never in the Philippines. I continued playing with the water, when it suddenly hit me: after reading “The Samurai’s Garden” by Gail Tsukiyama, I wanted to purge myself into a steaming tub of water.

See, in Samurai’s Garden, the main character was a sick man. He was urged by their helper to sink himself into a tubful of hot water. The character then described the experience as blissful, and he was able to drift off into a beautiful, uninterrupted sleep.

Then again, it could just be my unconscious side telling me to get some rest. I shrugged off the thought that by reading novels, somehow little parts of the story would tickle my fancy and I would want to try it out for myself. 

Then today, it happened again. I was reading in bed, when I remembered a similar scene in Chelsea Handler’s “Are You There Vodka? It’s me, Chelsea.” I was suddenly craving for McChicken Nuggets, which Chelsea apparently dropped while giving to a homeless woman.

Oh-oh. The flags and signs are there. Am I turning into a person with no identity but what I read in my novels? 

As a writer, I realized the importance of my words and thoughts. I might be writing a simple fiction, but I have no idea how my readers would react to my words. Take for example an old manuscript I wrote back in high school. I was very surprised when an old boyfriend passed it around to other people and said, “Maganda kasi yung story. Pakiramdam ko ako ung bida.” 

True, the pen is mightier than the sword. The wisdom and knowledge imparted by other people will always remain with you forever. But what you do with that wisdom is yours only to answer. Will you exploit it, or nourish it to something greater?

I’ll have to end this pointless blah now, for my current book is waiting for me at the bed. So good day to you all, and I’ll lose myself again in a world of words and comfort. 

P.S.

For those who read my old story "Is it really me?", do you happen to have it? I lost my copy. :( 

All the Wanted Girls

Because I'm so scattered brain that I post bits and pieces of myself in different platforms, I wanted to collate everything (or everything I can find, that is) and place them here.  This is one of those old pieces, a blast from the past from June 8, 2010.  This one is for my girlfriends. Shadz, Cakes, Myka, Tuna, Star, Che, Haze, Rei, Jellie, Joan, and my other loves. 

The Trollettes 

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Here's a clear illusion of what type of girls are "wanted" by men.  Cheers to the clever, witty, and brilliant girls who only few can understand.

"The Girls that are Wanted" - J.H. Gray [1880]

The girls that are wanted are good girls
Good from the heart to the lips
Pure as the lily is white and pure
From its heart to its sweet leaf tips

The girls that are wanted are girls with hearts
They are wanted for mothers and wives
Wanted to cradle in loving arms
The strongest and frailest of lives

The clever, the witty, the brilliant girl
There are few who can understand
But, oh! For the wise, loving home girls
There's a constant, steady demand.

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There's nothing more gratifying than having friends who've known you for the longest time. <3 

My Tunafish and Star. Together, the StarFish. 

Paper, Sticks, and Stones

Because I'm so scattered brain that I post bits and pieces of myself in different platforms, I wanted to collate everything (or everything I can find, that is) and place them here.  This is one of those old pieces, a blast from the past from April 15, 2012.


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I sent my boyfriend an old photo and was trying to think up of a witty caption. I started with, "An elephant and a tiger danced the same song together", and ended up with this poem. I'll apologize in advance for the grammar mishaps and whatnots, for I have to sleep now and brave the Monday rush tomorrow. 


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Let's play my favorite game
You call it love, I call it names. 
So hold my hand and I will touch your nose, 
While you offer a beautiful rose. 


Let's play my favorite game
You call it love, I call it names. 
Let's date a while and then we'll see
What you can really mean to me. 


Let's play my favorite game
You call it love, I call it names. 
Stop yourself--you must not fall--
Because I will refuse to play ball. 


If you fall for me you lose the deal. 
Oh boy, you will never heal. 
You will sob bitter tears
And curse me throughout the years. 


But what's this, my heart is flickering 
The butterflies are dancing, my resolve is weakening. 
Could it be, could this be true?
Am I truly falling for you?


So let us play another game,
I call it love, you call it real. 
And so we shall hold each other to eternity and beyond
Because we have no rules, we're just in love. 

Rawr and Purrbi: Our virtual pets from an old game we used to play

Three Little Words

Because I'm so scattered brain that I post bits and pieces of myself in different platforms, I wanted to collate everything (or everything I can find, that is) and place them here.  This is one of those old pieces, a blast from the past from April 17, 2012.




Saying "I love you" is more than uttering three simple words.
It's your blanket when you're far apart,
It's your pillow when you're not together,
And it's the assurance you have even if you haven't talked in a while.
For when you say "I love you,"
It means you trust your partner,
And in that trust, you respect each other.
You may be in different continents, different time zones, different cultures.
At the end of the day you love each other, and that's what matters.

Three little words to my Munchkins: I love you.