Monday, August 27, 2007

you, you put the blue back in the sky

Pardon the corny lyric title...wala na akong maisip i-associate na kanta kundi yang kay Christian Bautista (tutal kamukha naman nya)!

How's this for spontaneity: he asked me out for watercolor painting on Saturday morning!
(o, jowi, buti hindi trip to manila zoo diba? bwahahaha! ;P )

It's funny to have this all of a sudden, what with the entry I just posted yesterday. I'm actually scared to bits since I don't have the talent for drawing or painting, but he says if the abstract artists could splatter paint on a canvas and call it art and get away with it, how couldn't I?

Bahala na nga. I think I'll just busy myself with preparing sandwiches on Friday night so it'll be just like a picnic...and if all else fails with my artistic attempts, at least the food will be great hehehe ;)

But the jitters could be due to the fact that this is probably the date I've been waiting for :)

Don't go for second best, baby

Don't you dream of lavish expressions of undying love and wish your special someone would desire you to the point of adoration?

I do, sometimes. It's because I get caught up in moments that I am in awe of the fortune bestowed upon me that I have this person who loves me and that I've found him early (enough) in life. And I tell him countless times that I'm happy we're together in words that could challenge the cheesiest heart-shaped Hallmark valentine card.

Once the orchestra decrescendoes the romantic score, he'd smile and give a quick "me, too" and start asking me if my car's due for another preventive maintenance check at the service center. The music zips.

It's not that he's not demonstrative (batchmates voted us the PDA-est couple when we graduated from college), but I guess he's just not up to playing Romeo every single time that I bring out my inner Juliet. I've gotten used to his secret acronym codes that he replies to me over the phone even if there's no one within earshot to eavesdrop on our conversations. His idea of romance nowadays is telling me to wear my seatbelt or to stop using the cellphone when I'm driving. He hates it when I rant about my bad day, and will not make an effort to hide it. He is especially clueless when I complain about my weight or my looks, and knows he will be damned if he gives any answer or none at all. On any given day these small things are argued about, and then forgotten -- until the next time it happens.

It's so much of a joy for me to tell him how important he is to me that I feel a bit disappointed when it seems like I'm the only one delivering the cheese. I've dedicated songs to him on stage, I volunteer to pay for dinner or meet him near his place on weeknight dates and drive him home after, I kidnap him for a surprise out of town trip on a whim. Sometimes I feel like Betty waiting for Archie to see me the way he sees Veronica. Worse, I even wonder if he's seeing a Veronica out there...

But I guess when he does the little things, he shows me that he thinks of me everyday -- when he reminds me to gas up before the fuel sign blinks, or when he shuns spontaneity and embraces the routine so we could mark our schedule for QT with our respective families. Even if he'd rather not listen to choral music, he has watched every major concert I've performed in, but I have yet to join any of his airsoft games. And he does his share of taking the bus or the MRT on some of those weeknight dates and risks commuting home late just so we don't lose time in traffic. And he receives my meek "sorry"s without the 3-hour melodrama.

Madonna hit it right on the nail when she sang, "satin sheets are very romantic; what happens when you're not in bed?" -- paminsan-minsan talagang may mapupulot tayo sa kanya other than cone lingerie.

I'm not a fan of tough love just yet; it's too early for that when you're in your twenties and there aren't any kids or conjugal property to fuss about. But I'm all for everyday, ordinary, acronym-coded love if it means it will stay forever.

Thursday, August 02, 2007

love love me, shock shock me

Cheese curls from a non-issue guy. Talaga namang pag gutom ka, kahit junk food papatusin mo for lunch.


"Hey! Di ka naman nagsabi agad na papunta ka na," I said, surprised, as
my hands search for the voucher he was supposed to sign around my desk.

"No problem. I just got back from the gym," he shrugs as he takes off his bluetooth headset and sits in front of my workstation.

" ka na lang ngayon ah?" I remarked, doubtfully, though I steal glances at his arms, looking for a hint of toned muscles. Wala pa. Pero mas maputi pa rin siya sa akin!

"Bakit? Ayaw mo?" he probed while my back was turned, still looking for that blasted voucher that got buried in the file cabinet and into the Bermuda Triangle.

"Would it make a difference if I didn't?" Haha. It was just too playful a mood to let it pass. I knew he was smiling even if my eyes were on the pile of client folders stuffed in my drawers.

"Syempre." Bored na ito. Game na nga, feeling pa. I looked at him and I raised an eyebrow and blurted,


"Hindi nga. Totoo."
I rolled my eyes and made belat (jusko di ko na alam kung pano ko sasabihin in straight English!).

"O sya, sige. OK yan para sa 'yo. It's good for your physical health, at...pati na rin social health, hehe. It's the new Starbucks -- the best place to check girls out while you're on the treadmill or lifting weights, hehe." I still couldn't find the voucher so I looked a bit unfocused, which he took as,

"Eh why do you sound so unconvinced? Maniniwala ba ako sa 'yo niyan?"

My eyes roll again. I drag my mouse over to the retrieval system, click the "Print" button and make a new copy of the voucher I lost.

"No, I mean it. It's good for you, while you're still young. Tsaka may girls nga to scope out. Trust me, I know."

"You scope girls out at the gym, too?"
We laugh, and he signs on the voucher.


Cheese curls, I tell you. But when this other guy walked into the branch, iba na ang usapan. He had his hair cut and it suited him perfectly, so much that I mistook him for a local star. In terms of junk food, Lay's Sour Cream and Onion Potato Chips. With Fritos cheese dip. YUN O!

"Yes, sir?", I ask as I walk towards him. He smiles and I recognise him as my 23-year old client with a seven-year-old son. My hair is so messy. His is immaculately in place. Nahiya ako.

"Deposit lang sana. Pero hingin ko na rin ang account balance." He has his ATM card on one hand, cash in the other. I tell him he could check it via the ATM, and the deposit should be transacted over the teller counter.

"No, sa iyo ko na lang itatanong yung balance ko -- pero pwede sa ATM? Oo nga pala, pero -- o, sige na nga, punta na rin muna ako dun. Pero babalikan kita." Ganun? Nalito siya sa haba ng hair ko. Sige hintay naman ako.

As he went out to the ATM, I approach the tellers who began to ask me who the hunk o' person was. I tell them he opened an account a few months ago, and he looked every inch the cute young boy that he was with his keanu-style hair, baby fat and oversized shirts back then. Now with a crew cut and a gray small tee complementing his leaner but muscular figure, I'm thinking, good can turn into better, and better into best...mag-gym na rin kaya ako? But my thoughts were interrupted when the teller nudged me to assist the client who was now at my workstation.

"Paano sumulat sa deposit slip? Hehe sorry ha. Di ko talaga alam eh. What's my account number?", he inquired with an innocently clueless look. He writes the number according to my instructions then goes to the counter for the deposit. Akala ko tapos na biglang bumalik ulit sa akin and asks for a credit card application form.

"I promise you I'll request for a credit card soon. Mag-iipon muna ako ngayon. Thanks for the help, ha, " he says with a smile that reminds me of Piolo Pascual, and he steps out of the bank.

Sa bilis ng mga pangyayari, hindi ko na nakain yung baon ko for lunch.