I Have SCENE It 2: Personal ID

Seen: Bored with just deep sea water and swelling waves meeting our boat on our way to Cagbalite Island in Quezon Province, (Yes, waves do not scare me even if I really cannot swim. I dwell on my body's bouyancy and divine providence should the boat capsize.) Manong Boatman's arm tattoo caught my attention. I should have called him by his Personal ID written on his arm, only I do not know how to pronounce it, I might embarrass myself. Learnings: Did someone ever tell you that each human is unique? And so are names maybe. A name is a reflection of one's individuality. Hmmm, I always thought the name 'Cristine' sounds pretty. (Ahk!)

I Have SCENE It 1: Vote Wisely

Seen: From a fan-flyer of a political candidate in my town. While I was reading his credentials, I have to reread it a few times. Then I gave up. You go figure. Learnings: Say what?! Make it simple, dude. Mind you, he won the elections topping the elected councilors list. Actions speak louder than -- words?! =================================================================== "I Have SCENE It" will be my photoblog -- catching momentous spirits, weird angles, funny captions and signs. This is not intended to mock at people, albeit degrade someone else's morale because of erroneous activities luckily 'scened' by my camera. That is why there is the 'Learnings' part. We are humans after all. Laugh at the photos if you like, then ponder later on.

Tears, Stop Falling

Tears, stop falling. I don't want them to know I'm hurting, I'm a weakling. Please stop falling. I don't want to lose the heart. I want to keep on trying. Tears, stop falling. You add up to my sorrows, This miserable feeling. Please stop falling. My dignity's at stake; I will keep on fighting. Tears, stop falling. I may not see tomorrow Yet I won't stop dreaming. Please stop falling. After this lonely night, Is another lovely morning. Tears, stop falling. My mistakes do not mirror The whole of my being. Please stop falling. I got to love myself more Than anyone living. Tears, stop falling.  There must be a good reason To explain everything. Please stop falling. Someone out there wishes To again see me smiling.

Grow Old -- With Your Wives, Men!

The acoustic guy is back on the stage as I write this entry. He is now singing Grow Old With You and I thought, how appropriate.  I can't help but think about the wives of dirty old men - these men who promised to grow old with their 'other half' but are still looking for 'another half'. This is not my first time. In fact, statistically speaking, this is my sixth. From my point of view, if I were under a case study, I would consider it a significant number, hence, not to be disregarded. Yes, I have had received six indecent proposals from six old married men! But owing to my parents' efforts to raise me as a decent and respectful individual, I always manage to say a firm 'No.'  What's with me? This is not to brag about being offered proposals such as this. But I really cannot help asking myself that. I don't know what they see in me. I maintain a safe distance from them all. Their age and socio-economic status are never dragging factors for me. I never give them special treatment. I treat them equals with my guy friends who never mistake me as someone to fall for, thank God! I don't understand at all. Maybe the age is not much helping them to discern that it isn't right to entertain the thought of dating another woman other than your wife. And maybe the status is not much of a help either because they're so full of it they think they can buy just any other woman! Well thank God I'm not just any woman! Thank God I'm never caught in a situation to hesitate and consider options! Because when you're faced to become a factor in destroying a family, there is no other option but to avoid being one. That option is the best solution.  Hmmm, the song came to its end now. It made me think again, 'Who could be that man who will grow old with me?'

Hypnotized

Okay, I know this sounds crazy but I still want to believe that 'faithfulness' is still on top of my priority values. But then again, when the strong force of temptation is right in front of you, displaying such allure and whispering angst of boldness, it becomes a difficult effort to resist. I'm talking about the new definition of temptation as: noun, of extinct species, tagged with such names as lee min ho, johnny depp, timothy olyphant, jerry yan, jason statham, robert pattinson, and allan alcantara I have to include the last name because you see, I see My Sweet at par with the celebrity-temptations on my list. Whenever, and when not, we are together, can't resist the urge to kiss him. (Oh no. Kiss and tell this is.) He's just my perfect leading man. I sure hope he's not an actor, egad! I need to get back to work and shut off this hypnotized mode I'm in. Argh. I miss My Sweet now.

My Room and My Self

For a couple of years of regularly coming home to the province, I chose not to sleep in my room. I occupied my brothers' room instead. At first, I only wanted a new-yet-familiar room. It gave me that exciting feeling but still welcoming. Until it became a habit.  Just recently, when I came home again to attend a friend's wedding the next morning, Mama told me I should sleep in my room. I asked why. Mama would probably say because it's my room yet she simply replied that she had the sheets in the other room cleaned. Funny that I have to ask why I should sleep in my room when it is my room. Suddenly, I realized that I learned to detach myself from what I own, what I have.  As I entered my room, I felt an old kind of warmth welcoming me. I looked around, nothing much has changed. Despite the fact that this room was often used by my sister-in-law and my niece when they visit the house, it still looks the way I remember it to be. My enlarged photo hanging above my dresser is still an eyecatcher. Posters of my favorite anime character - Sailormoon, remain stuck at my cabinet doors, badly faded. The Venetian blinds I used to play with while studying are slightly pulled up when I would have preferred them down. Except for the broken TV and the remote-controlled electric fan, everything stayed the way they used to be. I could tell from what I see and feel that I belong here. This is really my room. In analogy (here we go again), my returning to my room reflects a symbollic return to myself. After so much bemusing and wandering, trying new things and meeting new faces, learning and failing, it gives me much pleasure that I still have a grip of myself. Knowing myself creates this security in me. I may have gone to places, but when I'm lost and confused, I would just have to sit back and think of myself. Because myself is the only person I can rely on, love and help most. Myself is the only person who could help me. Sometimes I forget that significant fact. And sometimes I decide to forget myself and look for someone else to cling on to. Only in the end, o would only have myself. I still have to muster that so that everytime I would be challenged by this cruel world, I could easily drag my big self to face it.  Welcome back to your room, Tinao! Welcome yourself back.

The Proposal

Far the stretch of the shore

Enveloped by skies of darkness

Songs playing who knows what for

Breeze enfolding with tenderness

These things bring no less but more

To that moment when you professed

Your love underlining what’s in store

For both of us ahead, more or less

Was I only dreaming when you asked

‘Will you marry me?’ that night

Or did that moment came too fast

I thought I did not hear you right?

But in my heart, I felt, at last

My prayer’s granted tonight

Because it then came to pass

A love’s here to keep, if I might

No dreams, no movies, no fantasies

Would compare to how you made me feel

We danced, we embraced, then we kissed

You cried, I smiled, we would stand still

You told me this was your fervent wish

I thought I was born to make it real

So underneath the stars, I said, unease

‘Yes, I will marry you!” with a thrill!

I really don’t mind if you don’t have much

So long as you are there for me

To have and hold, or to get in touch

When miles away you are to me

Near or far, in cases as such

Of my love you are always worthy

For we share a love where two’s a match

And where a ring’s not much necessary.

- by Tinao | May 14, 2010

Sasabado Heat and Hits

It's one of the icky, inconvenient Saturdays of summer when I'm leaving my half-day period at work aboard an airconditioned bus. The plus of hopping in a public vehicle from Ayala at past half of noon: you get to choose your seat where you're most comfortable -- and where you get to avoid the aircon blast stiffening your hair and making you catch a cold when you get out. The long 45-minute trip back home would usually be an opportunity for me to get my nganga-sleep. You know, that kind of sleep when you're just too tired from work and you rest your head back and minutes after you're sleeping with your mouth open. Disgusting but natural. Deciding on how beautiful you would look while sleeping is not really one of the 'optional' things we have on earth. I was ready to doze off, until a Korean lady hopped in from Megamall. Let's call her 'Sasa', in reverence to this Korean lady who made my Saturday delightful. Sasa hopped in the bus but chose not to sit herself amidst the many vacant seats. She just stood beside the driver, held onto the rail while the bus drove on. The konduktor (he who collects the fare) told her that there are still many vacant seats at the back. Sasa replied 'I'm off at the next stop.' To which the konduktor said, 'Ano daw?' The guy next to me, in kindness, clarified what she said 'Bababa daw sya sa Ortigas.' To this the konduktor insisted that she take her seat and Sasa obliged. But then the driver was alarmed, the bus is taking the Flyover route, which means that it will take Sasa farther from Ortigas if she's off at the next stop rather than if she drops off before the Flyover. And so Manong Driver told the konduktor to tell Sasa to get down before the Flyover. To this, the obedient konduktor approached Sasa scratching his head and said, 'Ma'am, me up, you down!' The bus was immediately filled with the passengers' roaring laughter, including my own. The lady beside Sasa courteously explained that she has to get down or she'll walk farther going back. So Sasa got down. End of the story. It was a delight, not to be sarcastic, to hear the konduktor speak in English. According to him, he was caught in a do-or-die situation where he gave all he has got. He made all the efforts to communicate, no matter how others may think he was committing nonconformity to the subject-verb agreement. Screw that. What matters is he was able to relay his message, and Sasa, to an extent, understood the message. It counts to communicate. It brings you to where you want to go.

Mine!

Someday. Two months from now. Zero savings. Snap! Snap! Come to Mama.:)

Sweets from My Sweet

Two days before this lousy celebration of Valentine's Day (hehehe), and following my usual routine of going straight home after office, I received an alarming SMS from my brother which imperatively read "Sis, tawag ka." When you receive such a message, you begin to wonder if the sender is caught in a compromising situation and in dire need. He's my brother, so I rang. How stupid of me that at that moment it did not brush my head that my brother has this nature of spoiling things. The next few moments of speaking with him over the phone stripped off every element of a surprise being a surprise. He just told me I got a package and it's from Allan, my sweet. So the surprise idea was already transmitted to my brain. But as to the content of the package, it had me twitching in excitement and my head bleeding with guesses. I had one guess correct; the others in my mind bubbles just popped into thin air.

So cute and really sweet.

This one I guessed right but I never expected this much.

The Valentine presents filled my heart with gladness I felt it nearly exploding. Thank God it did not, but my tear ducts did. My sweet has his ways of making me feel loved amidst the distance. Thank you, Allan.

Because You Said So

In the past, before contracts were even invented and parties concerned learned to write their signatures on capsules or papers, people got to transact or deal with others by way of TRUST. There would only be verbal, undocumented agreements but still, there was such a thing called 'palabra de honor' or [so did my Spanish class taught me] word of honor. Up until today, you gain friends and more importantly, TRUST when you tell someone you would do something and you deliver it well. You keep your word. You do as you say. As a result, there is a harmonious relationship between parties -- you with your friends, brothers, sisters, parents, colleagues, or your partner. And what happens when you do not do as you say? There is a broken agreement. There is a created tension. There is disappointment, frustration. You give the other person a reason not to trust you the next time. In court, it's more or less called the breach of contract if everything was placed in paper. It's very frustrating. But when caught in unavoidable circumstances, there's always a way to make up even before you break an agreement, even before you come to that point of not fulfilling what you said. If you can say ahead of time that you cannot do what you said, you could tell the other person beforehand. And if you really can't avoid the occurrence of another urgent matter that would hinder you from keeping your word, you could negotiate afterwards and, compromise. I'm sorry. I'm feeling a little upset now. Goodnight.

My Valiant

I was google-ing for 'Lingayen Educational Center' when I came upon a link that features the death of Valiant, a very dear friend and classmate of mine from high school. Then it brought back so many fond memories of us in high school -- mostly I would imagine him beaming and could not stop himself from smiling or giggling. The memories are so Valiant-like.

His name was Richard Valiant Correa [Primicias].

U.S. TO GIVE FULL MILITARY HONORS TO FIL-AM SOLDIER KILLED IN IRAQMANILA, JUNE 14, 2007 (STAR) - The US government will provide full military honors to Filipino-American Army Sgt. Richard Valiant Correa, who was killed in Iraq, during his burial in his hometown of Lingayen in Pangasinan tomorrow. Correa, 25, was killed by an improvised explosive device during a dismounted patrol near Ilbu Falris in Iraq last May 29. Correa served in Iraq under the 10th Mountain Division of the US Army’s 2nd Brigade Combat Team, based in Fort Drum, New York. “In recognition of his valor and dedication, Sergeant Correa will receive posthumously the Bronze Star Medal, which is the fourth highest US military award for gallantry in action, as well as the Purple Heart Medal,” the US Embassy said in a statement. US Brig. Gen. Harvey Landwermeyer, assistant division commander (support) of the 2nd Infantry Division, Korea, and a funeral honor guard from the 8th Army Korea, together with military representatives from the US Embassy, will attend Correa’s burial. Correa was born in the Philippines on May 20, 1982. He spent two years of his early childhood in the US, then returned to Lingayen and in 1999, graduated from the Lingayen Educational Center. At 17, he moved back to the US and starting in 1999, served in the US Air Force for four years. In July 2004, he re-enlisted in the US Army. – Pia Lee-Brago

http://www.newsflash.org/2004/02/hl/hl105756.htm

Tonight I Cry In Silence

My pains, my troubles

I whispered to the darkness

'Cause your absence doubles

My hunger for happiness.

The darkness always replies in silence

And embraces me with sympathy.

It eagerly awaits and listens

Whenever I want company.

For what use are words

If we are worlds apart?

What significance is a call

If we haven't much time to share, from the start?

I'd like to tell you everything

That bothers my mind and soul.

But I end up saying nothing

Unsure if I can trust you at all.

If I tell you now, would you listen?

Would you even care?

Or would you probably hasten

'Cause they're calling you out there?

Another day, another night

I always wait in vain.

But I also always try to fight

With all my might, the pain.

For what more is painful than not

Having you here beside me?

When you are the only one I got

who knocks me off completely?

So tonight I cry in silence

And whenever there's no you.

I tell the darkness, in pretense

That tomorrow I'll be with you.

-- Tinao

Cardology

Cardology - the art of making my heart melt by simply sending me cards -- in a surprising or clue-ing manner.

Traditional, yes, but when I receive cards from loved ones, my heart goes giddy-ly happy and sings shalah-heh-shalah!

I got this really special card from Allan for Christmas. Only it arrived a little late for last Christmas or a little early for this year. It does not matter because I super love the card! It has our photo on the front cover which I think is so sweet and the words inside were just, ah, perfect to take my breath away.

Thank you, Allan. I still think you're the sweetest thing on earth. Sweeter than chocolate.

How to Eat Pandesal with Hot Choco

When confused, food naturally becomes a good company in lieu of, well sometimes, a person. That's why they coin something called 'comfort food'. Exactly what, food gives you comfort.

On my way to work today, I passed by a store which sells pandesal (the traditional bread of Filipinos which means 'bread of salt', thanks to my Spanish clas s in college). The store is called The Bread Bag. It opens as early as 7:00 AM. I looked at their menu, and I felt greedy instantly. I must be really hungry. :)

So how to best eat pandesal? With HOT CHOCO! Coffee will do too! 1. Pandesal in the bag for sealed freshness and the hot choco to match it.

2. Hot and healthy. It's wheat pandesal!

3. Break thy bread, share if you may!

4. And now the best part: Dip it! Yummy!

Enjoy pandesal everyday.

New Beginnings

Anytime is always a time to begin if you want to. But the New Year is a classic point of hoping, planning, and deciding to make things anew or simply welcoming changes. I cannot believe it's 2010 already. It seemed like it was only yesterday when I resolved to be a better and not a bitter person. I told myself I would be forgiving and ever-learning. I committed to enjoy my life each day, and not to expect things about tomorrow because it might not come. These were what I had on mind when I welcomed 2009. Now that 2010 is here, I still want to become a better, forgiving, and ever-learning person. I still do not want to expect about tomorrow, but rather, carpe diem! Expect not, keep hopeful. Add a little faith, if that is the most I can do. Stick to my family and swarms of true friends -- those people who stuck with me unsolicitedly especially when I was wretched and lost. Late last year, I took another shot at love, sure. But there is nothing wrong with loving myself more, which I do now. There is nothing wrong with protecting oneself -- it is the most basic human instinct. Besides, if I did not learn from my past [terrible] experience, I do not know if I could still count myself human. Father Bok cited me as an example during his Homily last night. [He did not mention my name though.] He recounted how I would cry with so much emotional baggage when asked about my former boyfriend. But even in between sobs, with so much faith, I told him that everything's not yet finished. The best is yet to come. He told his audience that, now that 'she' [referring to me] has a new boyfriend who is abroad, she apparently is happier. He added that the new boyfriend makes her happy. Father Bok's statement makes me want to stand up and certify that fact. People with me at the choir's nook would glance and smile at me. They knew I'm on the grill. It does not bother me though. It is not finished. Live. Laugh. Love. Make each new beginning hopeful and do not stop till victory is at hand. God is faithful! Happy New Year!

Farewell, EITSC!

It feels strange having to say goodbye to someone you love, aye? Especially when you don't feel like going but you must go. It just brings tears to the eyes. Today is my last working day at EITSC. For more than 2 years, I have grown to love what I do and who I do my (or not my) job with. I worked with various people in here and I must say, I enjoyed working with them even if it means having to disagree with their ideas and debating on work issues more than half of the times. My apologies to some people I screamed at and who may have thought I'm a katipunera from my past life. I think I learned how to handle certain things maturely now. It was just me and Ms. Ga in the office. And while I must turnover things responsibly, we took breaks [and fotos] in between work to share views on just about anything. And by breaks, I mean these --

And since it was only the two of us, we decided to take our lunch out, her treat. It's her farewell gift to me. We did not really want to take long walks so we agreed to have lunch at Earle's, the American way. Pfft! We were not really hungry, you can tell!

We took our time walking the paths along Buendia. I'm afraid I won't set foot on the pavements of The Columns more often after this year so we took advantage of the opportunity at hand!

And just as I was waiting in line for my turn at the nearby bank's ATM, we chanced upon an interesting Honda car. Suddenly we were like little boys drooling over a really good toy. I am not really sure what the exterior material is made of but it's like fiber glass. Asteg!

I am so going to miss EITSC. This must be how Mav, Ms. Ree and Lala felt when they left EITSC... and me. Drama! All the best for all! Happy new year!

I Got A 'Baby'

Allan gave me a 'Baby' for a birthday present. No, not the cute tiny creature moms love to cuddle. It's an Apple iPhone 3Gs! Too much trouble for him, I think, to buy me such a thing but he said 'It's nothing. Anything to make you happy.' Oh God, I told you he's the sweetest thing! My Sweet. Thank you! Thank you!

I'm calling it my 'Baby'. I'm still at the insatiable point of exploring the features of my Baby. Except for the initial disappointment that I could not immediately use my existing simcard because it's locked for some reasons yet, I'm happy there's an iPod in it! Now I could listen to songs, songs, and more songs! I'll be off to Greenhills this Friday to have it open-lined. I'm crossing my fingers it won't be bastardized.

My Sweet, I can't thank you enough. I love you!

Sunday's Best!

This is a great Sunday! Minus Love (my cousin who already went home to Pangasinan), my homies are comfortably at home and the thought of having ourselves gather for breakfast is just fantastic. I went to hear the 7:30 AM Mass today. I left the house like a thief because I was careful not to wake my housemates who were still under their sheets. It’s Sunday anyway and I think everybody deserves to rest – even God rested on the seventh day! When I returned from Mass, Regie was already awake but still indecisive to get up. In a weary voice he asked where I went and I told him I heard Mass alone. He scoffed at my reply because it was unusually early and I would most likely tag him along to hear Mass with me. In my defense I said, I wanted to get back to sleep early too and I think he understood because he decided to sleep again. I did not sleep right away. I felt like emailing My Sweet first so I did. Then I heard my stomach growled. It would be bad to go to bed hungry, I thought. I decided I would cook breakfast first. My brother SMSed that he is on his way home already and I’m sure he could bear with my cooking because I know he would be hungry too from work. Omelet was my top choice for our breakfast menu, with onions and tomatoes. We have not had eggs for more than a week. Besides, I do not make bad eggs at all, just average output. In addition to steamed rice, it would not hurt to add another carbohydrate-inducing option, albeit an instant food favorite at home, Lucky Me Pancit Canton! These would count at 'satisfying' for empty stomachs. While cooking the omelet, my brother’s arrival signaled getup time. He has a special talent for distracting people at sleep, which he could not apply on me. The house was bouncing, and this has not been the case for so many weeks now when there were only two or three people at home. Today, everybody is at home. Today, everybody is up and alive. And with all honesty, it is a good and relieving sight for me. Just thank You, God. As soon as I finished cooking, we all gathered at the table for breakfast. I asked if there is a new DVD we could watch afterwards. Regie said only Christian’s [Bautista] music CD is new on the rack. Ate Melyn suddenly blurted a laugh and echoed ‘Christian! Christian!’ – at which point Peter and my brother jointly laughed too. Maybe I was still hazy or already feeling sleepy but I cannot miss the laughing trip so I asked what the matter is. Without really coercing them to share what they were laughing about, my brother volunteered to recount his most embarrassing elementary experience – pooping in his pants! Ate Melyn, Peter and my brother went to the same elementary school. My other brother, Christian, was Ate Melyn’s classmate. One school morning before their flag ceremony began, another student came running to my brother Christian and, lacking discretion, disclosed the news: “Christian! Christian! Amay agim, si Cleo, akatae!” Translated to English, “Christian! Christian! Your brother Cleo pooped in his pants!” Hahahaha. More hahahaha! My eldest brother must have felt nearly disowning our brother Cleo at that point. Even if it was against his will, my brother Christian brought our brother Cleo home with two umbrellas covering his behind. According to my brother Cleo, it was the longest walk he has ever done, with multiple stops in between to suppress nature’s call, but always unsuccessful. He left a trail along the way like Little Red Riding Hood, only those were not crumbs. Ewww! Then the table turned to me. My brother Cleo also recounted my embarrassing experience when I sat in a class for a week in their school because my school was on an earthquake-break then. Out of frustration to write the cursive of ‘R’ and neglected by a cousin who was sitting beside me to teach me how, I unnecessarily bawled when the teacher asked the class to submit the written exercise. I was not an official part of the class but being the go-getter that I know I am, I was really disappointed. My disappointment was expressed in my unstoppable weeping. My brother Cleo’s attention was called so he could bring me home. “Gala la ta unsempet ta la,” (Come now and let’s go home.) he said while tugging at me. I was crouching with my head between my knees trying to hide my face when I answered, “Agko gabay. Dakdakel ni sali.” (I don’t want to. There are still many feet around.) I was referring to the feet of the pupils of that elementary school. They gathered around me like spectators of a show – a show of my embarrassing behavior. They were laughing at me and waiting for my next step or another delivery of a punch line. My brother pulled me out of the school grounds and I no longer resisted. I knew then I could no longer save my face. I never came back the next morning. I was remembered as a crying baby in that school. We could not stop ourselves from laughing. It was a hearty breakfast with my cooking and funny elementary memories. Certainly this won’t be the last.

*****

We ate our late lunch at Mang Inasal where I had three (yes, 3!) cups of rice. Screw the diet now. Starvation is an immediate problem, plus my head is near explosion for thinking of what to get My Sweet for Christmas. Even my guy-homies were not really of a big help.

*****

The sweetest thing on earth for me – My Sweet Allan, just called. I missed his first call. I was doing the dishes and sharing good laughs over a documentary film on the television when he called. When I went up to my room to check on my phone, there was the missed call. It was just 6:00 PM, earlier than his usual call time. The funny thing is I was actually expecting his call at this hour. He has ESP! Allan’s been acting strange lately. He has been calling me every night (if that is a weird thing) since last week. I am actually loving the calls and it makes me upset whenever I miss his calls. But is it not costly for him to make the calls? I never have the nerve to ask. I only want to make the best out of our conversations. But I told him that I want to call him some times too, only I am not sure if he’s in the middle of something at work or what. So I never really tried calling him since he returned. The previous phone conversations have been sweeter each time and did I say strange too? He is talking about puzzle pieces that I have to put together, if you know what I mean. He would talk about his plans upon his return in May next year. He would give out ideas which apparently are clues to something. I am not so dumb not to get the picture but he scares me. In a good way, I guess. I only want him to come back to the Philippines safe and healthy and swine-flu-free. I miss My Sweet Allan. I love him so much that I wish tomorrow is already May.

The Wedding Singer

I have been singing at weddings from the tip of the Ilocos Region up to the tail of Southern Luzon since 1998. Boy, I have come this far. Maybe I should be considering it as a serious career by now. But, no thanks. I would say I have not reached the professional level yet, and most of the weddings I sing for were of relatives and friends -- people who could honestly appreciate and endure my voice for the sake of, well, kinship. The recent wedding I sang for was last November 30. It was a wedding of the daughter of my teacher-aunt's District Supervisor to a gentleman from Dagupan. I thought there was a convention of public teachers or so. They were dressed in their best olive green gowns, and much as I hate to say it, they put on their best shining, shimmering accessories which they only get to wear during these occasions. So okay, I would pass being the queer-eyed critique for the worst and best dressed teachers, oops, principals. I was late for the bridal march so Regie took the lead for "Angels Brought Me Here'. The couple were already at the altar when I arrived. I saw the bride wiping off her tears. That wasn't a first time scene for me. I mean, I have seen several brides weeping when we sing them songs especially if the song is the couple's lovesong. I have seen a couple cry too! Is that what they call the tears of joy? I have this funny feeling the brides might be thinking they're about to make a big mistake and they can't turn back. But hey, it must be really love. I was told once, 'You must get there to understand what it is.' Hmmm. Okay, okay. Speaking of getting there, I nearly choked on my food when I was cornered by my cousin while having lunch. She said, 'You're singing for a wedding again. Will you always remain the wedding singer? And who would sing for you when your wedding comes?' Answer: deadly silence with rolling eyes. Interpretation: I have no freaking idea. She's actually freaking me out whenever she puts me in the hot seat. She grinned. And that means she had me thinking like Plato.

*****

Phone beeped. An SMS. I checked the clock, 10 minutes past midnight. Am I dreaming? No. It was a message from Jhia. 'Tin pwede din yung Two Words ni Lea Salonga.' She was suggesting the song of Lea for her bridal march. And yes, like the suggestion cannot wait for tomorrow. I thought she might be expecting a reply so I hit her back with 'Mabagal ang transition ng words. I sing that song for the exchange of vows.' Then it was a peaceful night after my message was sent.

Jhia is getting married on May 2010, with Jaicus. He asked, she said yes. The proposal was made in Singapore with Jhia wearing sleeveless blouse and well, her usual self. But she did bring a dress to Singapore, only she was not expecting the proposal to be delivered soon before she could change costumes. Hahaha. But I love how the proposal went -- when Jhia least expected it. Because proposals are supposed to be surprising, aren't they? So Jhia, you had it.

Congratulations to you both! And yes, I will sing at your wedding.