If He Isn't, Then Who Is?

Sounds really desperate.

But finally, yes, finally, Anna brought the DVD she promised to lend me a few weeks back. It maybe something really sappy but the title of the movie was plain irresistible and intriguing for someone LIKE ME. (Yeah, like there’s an unidentified, emerging –ism for the likes of me that sooner or later I will be spearheading.) Plus, I get to have a good chat with Bro. Paul this afternoon about my relationship status (which by the way is being joyfully single for now) that seemed to me more like a cross-examination, really. The title of the movie: He’s Just Not That Into You - based on the book by Greg Behrendt and Liz Tuccillo. (I can see some eyes rolling and mischievous whisperings that this is all too passé or inappropriate. Yeah, like I care!) Okay, so I would like to share some quotable (at least for me) lines from the movie which caught me offguard. Well, simply because I was not expecting those enlightening messages. Scene: Ben Affleck proposing marriage to Jen Aniston. More or less, this was the line. And please consider the pauses [I double-dashed to stress the point]. But actually, the line was the cherry on top of the ice cream. Ben was the ice cream. Hahaha. It was not a very creative proposal but I shed a tear.

"And I wanna make you happy. I need to make you happy for me that it even have a shot at me happy. Will -- you -- marry -- me?"

Narration [more or less again] on the last part which basically holds true. I would want to read these lines over and over to my girlfriends. Really, a wonderful guy is not necessary. But, in my personal point of view, I wish there’s one good partner for everybody. And me. Hehehehe.

"... If a guy punches you, he likes you. Never try to trim your own bangs. And someday you will meet a wonderful guy and your very own happy ending.

Every movie we see, every story we’re told, implores us to wait for it – the third acts twist, the unexpected declaration of love, the exception to the rule. But sometimes, we’re so focused on finding our happy ending we don’t learn how to read the signs: how to tell the ones who want us from the ones who don’t, the ones who'll stay from the ones who'll leave.

And maybe this happy ending does not include a wonderful guy. Maybe it’s you, on your own. Picking up the pieces and starting over. Freeing yourself up for something better in the future.

Maybe the happy ending is just moving on. Or maybe the happy ending is this: knowing that through all the unreturned phonecalls and broken hearts, through all the blunders and misread signals, through all the pains and embarrassment, you never ever gave up hope."

And oh! Here's a deadly line from Jen Aniston that would make guys zombie-still or rethink if they heard the girl right:

"Stop being nice to me unless you're going to marry me."

Cheers to my girlfriends!

Bleached!

Stupidity over simple things leaves a worse impact than you think. Especially when you had the same mistake once in the past. God, I never learned. Well, what I meant was, using bleach in laundry. I remember way back in high school, when owning a new pair of jeans signified a trendy statement and personally, a reward because of an achievement. My mom bought me this really classic corduroy khaki pants that got me really excited to wear and show. Coming from the mall, I went straight to wash it – the sooner it will be washed, the sooner I will get to wear it, I thought. Then it came to me, I should clean it thoroughly. I have this thinking that because it was handwashed does not mean it is already thoroughly clean. I thought somehow I have to disinfect it. And so the bleach’s role in the story. The bleach was supposed to be mixed with the basin of water but it accidentally dripped on the garment. Disaster! I have a new pair of corduroy khaki pants embellished with white-pink spots that looked like it was ready to meet the floor with water and polish. It met its ill fate to be a rag in an instant. And my face apparently needed some ironing more than my clothes because of what I did. Very stupid. Just this afternoon, I bought this really nice white dress embroidered with intricate black patterns of threads and beads! It was from the ukay-ukay, you bet! But really, it looked like it came straight from the shelves of Plains and Prints or Apple & Eve. The fabric is thick and its weave is similar to coffee bags. I love the total look when I tried it on – conservative yet cute. And because it came from the ukay-ukay, my OC tendencies struck again. I soaked the garment in water with powdered soap and yes, bleach! Bleach would get rid of itch-causing elements of the dress, I thought. I gave the soaking some convenient 15 minutes to get things done the way I wanted it to be. I took a quick shower first before I get to handwash the dress. But what an unfortunate idea! My precious purchase looked like it was inked all over with inconsistent curled patterns down from where the embroideries are up to the waistline. Black prints were there where they were not necessary! The dress looked really spoiled; evident of what a stupid washer I really am. I just threw my hard-earned PhP125 away. I cannot forgive myself. My brother’s girlfriend, who was envious I got hold of the dress first a while ago, was anxious about what I did. I was waiting for her to tell me how stupid I was, and yes, very generously, she told me so. My brother and even Jew came to the rescue, too. My brother gave it a shot at scrubbing one of the many unwanted black imprints but I’m afraid he would only tear the dress if I did not stop him. Jew handed me a bar of laundry soap and suggested I try vinegar too. Hmm, I may have demonstrated severe desperation there for a moment to deserve such attention washing just one piece.

Here are photos to show you my stupidity.

FRONT VIEW OF DRESS

BACK VIEW OF THE DRESS

TORSO (Closer Look)

THE INTRICATE EMBROIDER

THE BEADS (Heavy Ones!)

CAN YOU SPOT THE STAINS?

Down-trodden and feeling really irresponsible, I climbed upstairs to my room for adjudication. I pleaded guilty of stupidity alright, and to uplift my soul, I sentenced myself to watch DVD. I just watched The Other Boleyn Girl. I felt glorious afterwards. I was not the most stupid, after all. Hehehe. But still, I would be a lousy laundry washer. I would drive customers crazy if I were employed in a laundry business. Poor me.

BEDnesday!

What's with me? I'm becoming a rebel, which I seem to be enjoying. I'm blogging again at the expense of my office hours. One thing: it's easier blogging than painstakingly proofreading the *&^%$#@! modules which, according to my boss, need an overhaul. I demand a separate pay for this! Peace, boss!

Like the surging rain, my spirits are on high -- for blogging. And the rain, oh the rain! It makes me sing Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo, I love you. Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo, I love you. I love you in the morning and in the afternoon, I love you in the evening and underneath the moon; Oh, Skidamarink a dink a dink, Skidamarink a doo, I love you!

I stopped singing when the rain got even nastier, maybe protesting. I could see the strong winds carrying the rain away forming ghostly images rapidly chasing each other. The strong winds forcefully push flat the raindrops on my window. There's zero visibility from the 19th Floor even with my eyeglasses on.

Huhummm, I am being elevated to a dreamy state with these scenes. I love this equation: rain + bed + new book = perfect relaxation. But now, I could suit myself to blogging first. Maybe later, I would buy myself a new book. This one. It might give me a hint on what really is wrong with me. :)

Pledges

I'm wearing a cute pink glittery bow today. It matches my pink-spotted cheeks which I pinched thoughtlessly infront of the mirror until I felt they were close to burning if I did not stop. Just kidding. The bow matches the shade of my lipgloss too! I love my total look today -- fresh and ready to face the world! Apparently, I hope this is just the beginning of putting into action my pledge of reinventing myself and starting anew. I think I'm ready to face the battle against quarterlife crisis (whatever that is). I have not laid my cards yet nor thought of a game plan but feeling good about myself is definitely one critical step I should take. Way to go, Tin! (I'm talking to myself again. Beware. Hehehe.)

*****

Last night, I was repeatedly playing the song "Pananatili" on my laptop. Mac instructed me to study the song well for Allan Punay's wedding on June 28th. Like a student to her teacher, I obliged. I was intently listening to the song when suddenly it dawned on me, "Hey, the message of the song sounds like the Song of Ruth! Only it was Tagalized." And so early this morning, I googled for "Pananatili" and confirmed my realization. "Pananatili" is a beautiful song, not to disregard the music-video, which I posted here, that gave the lyrics justice.

"Pananatili", in the best way I could translate it, means staying or dwelling in English. It is yet another pledge of love -- of staying where the loved one stays, going where he/she goes, dying where he/she dies. The sweetest pledge of love I ever heard. It sounded highly emotional in Tagalog. As the Scripture says (in English):

Ruth 1:16-17 (King James Version)

16And Ruth said, Intreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee: for whither thou goest, I will go; and where thou lodgest, I will lodge: thy people shall be my people, and thy God my God:

17Where thou diest, will I die, and there will I be buried: the LORD do so to me, and more also, if ought but death part thee and me.

It touches my very core that I cannot help crying. I should not do this during the wedding!

*****

There were several times in the past when I was handed a World Vision brochure in different occasions. I was actually very eager to get involved but it came to pass and I never really grabbed the chance. Until a cousin approached me asking for assistance for the education of our niece for college. I must have been very insensitive not to notice that a relative is in need of financial aid. Why am I searching too far? There is nothing wrong with that, I suppose. But charity starts at home. So, point-blank, I pledged my support. It's the least I can do. But still, it's my niece's dream of a brighter future that's at stake here. I'm proud to say, I adopted a scholar this schoolyear, and I'm happy to do so. Carry on!

I'm all too excited to buy supplies for my nephew who is starting his first encounter of school at the Day Care Center. He has been deprived of parental love at such a young age so I guess it would not hurt much if we introduce him to the wonderful and definitely valuable world of studying! Studying means a lot to me. It's high time I impart that same values to the my younger loved ones. :)

*****

Consider this forwarded SMS by Thew one gloomy morning:

"For years I kept a sign in my room that helped me maintain the right perspective concerning yesterday. It simply said... "Yesterday Ended Last Night." It reminded me that no matter how badly I might have failed in the past, it's done and today is a new day to make things better."

And my pledge? I'm going to be a better person each day.

So help me God.

Recharge-able

Borrowing from Rev. Fr. Marco's message of thanks last Saturday afternoon, I am one with him in the belief that home is where you regain your energy. Whenever you feel the necessity to recharge, home is the best place to do just that. Very true.

This was the very same reason why I asked for a half-day off from work last Friday so I could come home early and hopefully catch up with the rehearsal for the responsorial psalm. Sadly, it did not pursue. But the pep talks and sharings were definitely worth wasting the time. And the rain! So much so it added relief to my burdened soul (What I was feeling was heavier than you can read it here. I could not explain why.) and drama to reinventing friendship and discovering new ones that night. It was also a bonus for me that I arrived just in time to see Jun Pyo on screen. Eeek, I giggle at the sight of him. It is that teenage sensation that brings out the glow on my face lately somehow. Boo. He is just plain gorgeous.

*****

When you sing your heart out, you pour out your feelings into what you sing so that your voice and the song will be delivered well. Just my thought. It has worked for me so many times. And several times, I ended up teary eyed too. That is because singing is one of the few ways I vent the bad feelings that are choking me. Really. And because sometimes, when you can't find the right words to express how you feel, songs were intentionally made to express them more than you can. Weird but often true. I hope Fr. Ed would understand now why I only responded in silence when he remarked "Feel na feel mo yung song ha!" I was feeling tensed at first but enough coaching from that seminarian who sang with me was all it took to diffuse everything inside me. He was very supportive and appreciative. Typical seminarian. Mabolatis.

Singing for me is synonymous to clearing the dark clouds ahead of me. It puts me back to perspective somehow. Try singing soulfully. It does not matter if you are out of tune. It's the heart that counts.

*****

Did you say swimming? Count me in!

I'm no good swimmer but I like drifting and frolicking in the water. And wow, the good conversations with friends while immersed in the pool. Nothing beats that. I left my tears in the pool, unbeknownst to them.

I would just like to say my thanks to those who took time to join me in the supposedly 'unplanned' overnight swimming after the Thanksgiving Mass of Fr. Marco -- Liway, Godo, Te Vilma, Te Dhang, Kuya Ernie, Mac, Regie, Janice, Larry, Jermine, Khayi, Joepearl, and Fr. Bot. Let's go to Baguio next time! Yeah!

*****

What is so wrong with Marlbert?! I did not commit to come to the house warming slash birthday celebration of his relative yesterday. He was merely insisting we should come. I don't remember having business with him not even with the birthday celebrant. And he would tell me they are expecting us. With the likes of Marlbert, there's no need to clarify. Yet unlike him, if I could refuse an invitation, I'd say there and then I could not make it. Better than saying I would come and then won't. Unlike Marlbert, I'm not the no-show type. (Yes, Marlbert, allow me this opportunity to grill you in my own page.) Underpromise, overdeliver. It was just surprising how people treated us when we arrived. Sure, they welcomed us warmly, I have nothing against that. Really, they were nice people! Overly warm and nice, in fact. But I have this impression that I underestimated what Marlbert must have said prior to our arrival. I have this funny, weird feeling that made me really uncomfortable at first especially whenever a person not present was being mentioned. Bad habit.

But hey! I enjoyed the bibingka! I super loved it! And did I say I enjoyed watching and talking to those nice people in there too? But I'm missing A___.

I'm not done with you yet, Marlbert. :)

(Note: I am posting this entry during working hours. I am so tired proofreading! I'm going back to work. I've recharged.)