BEFORE you knew.

Do you remember the moment...
Right before you actually knew...
That you liked your partner?

Or the moments right before you had a self-awareness of your partner being someone you truly thought was worth being with?

I do.

(And yes, this is going to be a corny blog and I'm sorry if I don't have anything angst-ridden to write about today... but I'm sure I can conjure something up before this blog ends. =)

But going back to my original thought...

I think about it sometimes... when I'm sitting beside him in the car. Whenever I rub his neck and head as he drives, or I plug in my iPod and start singing to Fiona Apple or Cat Power or Joss Stone whilst using my phone as a mic (as I ALWAYS need a mic, even if it's a pretend one). I look at him... and I think about how we got to where we are. How I ended up in his car. How he ended up holding my hand. How he and I ended up being crazy in love and what not.

Do y'all think about that? Do those things cross your minds?

Because it crosses mine. And it's fun. It's like one of those hypothetical, philosophical What the F's that just blow the mind... but in a good way.

I remember texting him. I think it was me who texted first. Probably. Before I knew I liked him. Or at least, liked him liked him. I texted him something about being drunk and having a killer hangover. I was at my desk at the office. I texted him about all the vodka I'd had the night before... and how I was nursing a hangover with campbell's soup and musiq soulchild. He said something about soup and raphael saadiq. Then the other time he texted me first... just to tell me that the song Anything by SWV feat. Wu Tang Clan (a song which I'd suggested that he played) was a great Sunday driving song. I responded by telling him that I was glad he liked it... and that I was already getting drunk at 3 in the afternoon.

Of course, all of that seemed rather commonplace and trivial at the time (because I was seriously drunk 90% of the time, hahaha). I mean, those messages didn't even amount to much... not a meeting or a potential date. They were just... informative text messages.

Thinking about those messages now... in retrospect... I think about how that seemingly trivial correspondence was exactly what founded our relationship. Like how it would've been if God had screamed in our ears while we typed those messages, saying something like, "She's THE ONE, fool!! You're being so nonchalant but she's the fucking one! Oh boy, you are so gonna get it." after which He laughs His hearty, but loving "because I am all-knowing like that and you are just a mere stupid mortal" type laugh.

I enjoy the way the universe works like that.

And that's really all I wanted to say. I was just seriously wondering if other people think the way I do. It's pretty fun... to want to understand your own relationship... to why you are where you are and how. To try to pinpoint a pivotal moment. I guess it's something obsessive/compulsive people like me do. To deconstruct love just to have the pleasure of putting the pieces back together... just so you can see the bigger picture.

Which reminds me...
I'm supposed to buy a 1000pc. jigsaw puzzle... for myself.


.....


PS. I have a slight hang-over whilst typing this. Goddamn you FLAMING DR. PEPPER and the devil-bartender at Bugsy's Makati... Mark aka Motherfuckin' Hades. (But love love to my next favorite couple, Roni and Prince... for the intellectual talks on couplehood and why we Callanta girls don't like ugly deadpan ex-girlfriends with huge gums and those who work at Bloomingdales, hahahaha!!!)

I drink hatorade to sober up. =P

PPS. Above picture was taken around the time Paolo still failed to realize just how AWESOME I was after he met me. My last SNL as a Paolo-free woman, hahahaha! (Whoops, some guy was trying to hold my shoulder. Yikes.)

What makes the daily grind worth it.

                                                      My silly monkeys.

Baby baby bebe.

My well-meaning boyfriend said that maybe I should start writing about other things other than myself… so that (from what I understood from his explaining) I wouldn’t sound so… redundant. Or something like that. I think he just didn’t want my writing to turn bland or stagnant. And I don’t think he likes that I use “appease the dissonance” often.

Of course, after his having said that, my defense alarms immediately went off. (Because obviously, I am the type who needs constant appeasing.)

Ok. Last week, at the Pinoy Blogfest my company held, I learned from one of the keynote speakers that if you wanted to blog, just make sure you put some disclaimer stating that you are a blogger and not a wanna-be journalist who tries to pass information off as true and credible.

So everyone, I’m a blogger. And my blog is a [not-so-personal] personal web log. It was meant for me to write about… well… myself. And if I sound redundant then… I’m sorry. But I don’t think I could ever get sick of myself. And besides, working as an editor for a magazine that comes out monthly is what I consider my recommended dose of “formal writing.”

…..

Now this morning, I was all love and giddiness and rainbows and sunshine. I was in the bathroom seriously pondering my next lovey-dovey blog about how great it is to be loved in return and to be adored and revered  and all that good stuff. I was thinking about how I was gonna incorporate Friendster as the better social networking site over Facebook because at least, for a time, Friendster allowed you to add testimonials… and those testimonials were probably the best ego-boosters ever (no. 1 reason why I still keep my Friendster account). How it helped my self-esteem when I was feeling absolutely wretched and ugly and uninspired. I began to think about how people used to really take their time to tell you how awesome you are. And how all that is just fucking amazing ---- to have someone/several someones love you. As amazing as a heart beating on its own, with no batteries. It just fucking beats. (Ok, the last few statements where I went all anatomical, I thought about recently and figured the realization was worth sharing despite its misplaced incoherence.)

I was gonna write about all that today.

Then I saw something I shouldn’t have seen. (How the fuck was I to know that the folder entitled “vCARDS" was an address book? I thought they were Valentine’s Day eCARDS, I kid you not!!!)

I had managed to dislocate my chakra.

But seriously… I THINK “BEBE” FOR A PETNAME IS THE DUMBEST PETNAME EVERRRRRRRRRRR!!! Shit. I have a friend named Beb. It was short for Genevieve. But we all ended up calling her Beverly instead because it was funny. And… I call everyone “Beb”… especially the ones whose names I’ve forgotten. It was a default code for John and Jane Doe. (C’mon, don’t act like y’all haven’t done that, too.) I mean, I get “baby.” But “Bebe?”

You have got to be kidding me.

(Sorry to those who are someone’s “bebe” girl or “bebe” boy. I think it’s stupid. But hey, I ain’t gonna hate on love.)

Tangina that.

 

How can you have a relationship with fucking gums? Ugh.

Shoot.

Maybe I should start writing about something else.

 

….

….

….

 

I saw Eric Fructuoso a few weeks ago at Music Trivia Night over at Attica. It was the most surreal thing. HE WAS 1/3 OF THE GWAPINGS, YO!

I totally went into a flashback 90s vertigo.

Then I remembered my first ever Filipino crush.

PATRICK GARCIA in…

 

ROLLERBOYS.

(Oh shit, I just found out that Eric Fructuoso was in that movie, too. Ahihihihihihihi.)

 

Then it was Spencer Reyes. HAHAHAHAHA! (I bought a wallet-sized picture of him at the palengke when I was 14.)

But apparently, it wasn’t as bad as what our Ed. Asst. did…

She wrote Patrick Garcia a letter, using the address provided by the local “teen beat” magazine.

Everyone had found out she’d done it when the mail was returned to her. All the while, she thought that Patrick never got around to responding to her or that her mail had gotten lost. HAHAHAHA!!!

 

The things you do when you’re young.

Thank you thank you!

First of all, I'd like to thank everyone who was able to attend last Saturday's Pinoy_Blogfest 1.0 and for staying the whole day just to see the event through... all the way up until the open bar ended at 8pm. I personally learned a lot from our guest speakers... like how to monetize on your blogs (though I don't think I'll be doing anything like that anytime soon, if ever as I still retain a level of modesty when it comes to my blogs) as well as the code of ethics with regard to "citizen journalism."

It kinda made me want to rethink about keeping all those hateful blogs I used to write about the people I didn't like lest I find myself in some messy libel suit.

*shrugs*

But it's just soooooo fun to b*tch and rant sometimes. Good thing I'm not a journalist. =P

So yeah.

Thank you to all my fellow bloggers who took the time out to support our event as well as our guest speakers for imparting their knowledge and know-how to us eager beavers.

***Special thanks to Mr. Paolo Toledo for being there... from 7am to 7pm. What a trooper. (You're the best, waffle =) Thank you to Ms. Kim "Kaladkarin" Lim for following as well. And for being such a silly little penguin.

(whilst raiding the open bar and awaiting the raffle)
Kim: I want a laptop bag.
Me: I want a laptop.
Kim: Hmm... I want a lapdance.
Me: I want a lap... hmm... lap... lapan.

(oh and for my english-speaking friends, "lap-lapan" means "torrid kissing" hehehe!)

....

Shout-outs to Chef Kel Zaguirre of the Richmonde Hotel for the amazing Portobello Mushroom burgers that he demo'ed for the guests. (I'll make sure to drop by Eastwood Richmonde Hotel for more "healthy but delicious" dishes.)

And of course...

To Yolando and Norman of TUNAY NA LALAKE (tunaynalalake.blogspot.com) for gracing us with their presence. =)

             with Ed. Asst. Danee Torres and TNL moderator Norman Wilwayco
                                       


I'm proud to be a "real man" under your standards. =P

Another manic-depressive rhapsody.

Disclaimer: I'm not mad.

....

Do you ever catch yourself thinking about just how much you've matured? Like, when you consciously decide to do or not do something, you kinda have this self-satisfied, smug afterthought where you go, "Hmm... that was f*cking mature of me. I'd have never responded this way before. I'd have torn that motherf*cker up 5 years ago."

Or something to that effect.

Now I don't know exactly when maturity kicks in... maybe when you reach a certain age or have a kid, you may start "toning down" previous passionate adherences.

But man do old habits die hard.

Then again, they can be a little too much to lug around. Like excess baggage. See what also comes with youth... is strength. And if you asked me some odd years ago, I'd have never hesitated to get into a fight (verbal or physical) with anyone I believed (whether rationally or irrationally) was disrespectful to me.

Or simply annoyed the living f*ck out of me.

Ergo...

I am getting old. *sigh* And there really is no fighting stupid social networking sites.

Now you know what I like about my multiply? I can retain my self-centeredness. I can put whatever the Hell I want... and since multiply updating sucks and not alot of people are on it anymore, I can detach myself from [most of] the world... even though my sisters and friends encourage me to try FB so I could spread my nonsensical blogs to more people --- to which I think is a small price to pay so that I may avoid having the opportunity to look at the endless gums that have become a bane in my existence.

Gums, people. I am annoyed by gums. I should NOT have a facebook. (And God I wish I could put up a photo but alas, I'm not as big a dick as I used to be... and I would embarrass someone I cared about dearly if I did --- but for those who wanna know, PM me and I'll email the photo to you, hahahaha! j/k)

Oh but aside from gums... I'm annoyed at those who like to keep "memorabilia."

Ok. Can somebody tell me if it's possible to delete entire albums on your FB? Because if it is [possible], which I'm sure it is --- THEN WHY DON'T THE F*CK DO THEY DO IT? God, hang-ups are so... tacky.

You know what? You can say, "Well Gee Michelle, you don't HAVE TO look." or "Maybe they're just trying to annoy you so don't let them."

Blahblahblah.

Uhhh... no. I'm annoyed. And I wanna give them a piece of my mind... the way I always have.

But maybe, at this point, I've given away way too many pieces. Sooner or later, I'd have lost my mind altogether.

......

Sometimes I think if it's worth all the trouble just to feel this way.

I've successfully just made myself melancholic.

......

I want to go here:

http://www.pinksandsresort.com/

Can anyone spot me? I think bi-polar disorders can be treated here.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

It's my partner's birthday today.

He's 27.

Imagine that. Took him 27 years to find me. Better late than never, I say.

So Clotho, Lachesis, and Atropos (the Fates... *ahem, factoid of the day*) tell him what he's won:
















(Taken at the Gadgets Magazine Pinoy Blogfest 1.0 held last Saturday)

You need a real woman in your life
That's a good look
Take care of your home and still fly
That's a good look
I'm gonna help you build up your account
Thats a good look
Better yet a hood look,
Ladies thats a good look
When you're in them big meetings for the mills
Thats a good look
You take me just to compliment the deal
Thats a good look
Anything you cop I'll split the bill
That's a good look
Better yet a hood look
Believe me
Ladies that's a good look

...We'll have you some "birthday sex" later. =P

Comparative of the day

Sometimes I think that being in love... is like being drunk.

Seriously.

The senses are way too heightened for normalcy. And contrary to popular belief, I am actually looking forward to a mechanical but blissfully ignorant life with my husband, 3 kids, a dog, fish, and huge garden, a brick home, and a white picket fence.

And waking up at 6am and sleeping by 10pm.

......

But we just have to have "one more drink," don't we?

LOVE NO LIMIT

It’s been roughly one year since Psyche’s father and I broke up.

(Pauses and ponders this realization)

Now I just got back from my fabulous trip to Boracay with my two younger sisters and our respective better halves, which I swear I will write a storm about before the week ends but I just thought I’d take the opportunity to reflect on the time that “doth hath” passed since the aforementioned… occurrence.

See… I have this thing with dates. (Ok, I’m gonna go on another seemingly incoherent intro so bear with me, I promise this will make sense once it unfolds.)

So dates. And I mean, calendar dates not movie/coffee/dinner then a dvd at my place date (which the latter, by the way, I don’t actually consider a “date”). But going back. Yeah. I like remembering what happened on particular dates… the randomness of them… trying to find some sort of parallelism in days and weeks and years and times. It’s like making my own little horoscope or Cosmopolitan bedside astrologer. I dunno. It’s just fucking fun. And I’m fucking OC like that.

So some time last year, this month… around this week, my daughter’s chromosome-donor and I broke up (and no, I’m not bitter… I just think “donor” is a better suitable adjective than “ex” when it came to his role in my life --- and I just totally realized that now in my incoherence so yehey for groping for words and never having a skeletal draft or linear train of thought). ----ooh and I think around this time, my current boyfriend was preparing to celebrate his 26th birthday over at hierarchy and some other place... and I did see the photos of that birthday and I thought, "Man, look at this guy having fun and totally not looking for me while I was catatonic on my couch listening to Taylor Swift's "Breathe" ad fucking nauseum. Guess the stars didn't align for us that night."

*shrugs*

Anyway...

So yeah. My relationship was ending some time this time last year. And I think it was one of those over-the-phone-the-very-thread-of-the-fabric-which-held-our-fragile-couplehood-together JUST.BROKE ergo let’s just stop screaming at each other and kindly get your bags and leave as quietly and ninja-like as possible.

You know how they say “When God closes a door, He opens a window.”

I never really got that.

I mean… what? He’s gonna make you fit through the window? Like, you’re not good enough for the door? Why couldn’t there just be another door to another house? Does He reopen closed doors? And seriously, why a window? Why couldn’t He open the back door instead?

Does He mean “window of opportunity”? Because if that’s what He meant… then it must’ve taken me a while to see it because… I think I was too busy trying to open locked doors.

….

 

Last year, one of my guy friends from college sent me a message after I texted that I was single again. I guess of all people to text, his was a response I looked forward to because… he never patronized heartache. He had a very good way of demeaning the dramatic. And I had just about hit rock bottom with Taylor Swift AND Colbie Caillat in one frikkin' track. It was girly drama overkill.

*cue R2D2 message alert tone*

“You’ve been in and out of relationships and what not… so I’m sure this is a giveaway for you.”

Some fucking friend, right?

Right.

It WAS a giveaway. And I seriously laughed.

Here was MY window to try again. To give my daughter something better than what she was forcibly born with. And to give me a chance to make mistakes and to learn from them and to further hone my own qualities and reassess my own values… and yeah, to have fun whilst having the luxury to be stupid and reckless and carefree… and finding someone to help you dust your knees for the countless times you’ve fallen.

I think there’s something really fulfilling about being able to “edit” oneself.

And new beginnings are just fucking awesome.

So now, let's just Love without a limit. And Ms. Mary J. Blige will preach it. =P

BLOGGERS of the world, UNITE!

Ok, I totally ripped that one off from the 1995 flick Hackers (which I thought was an awesome movie... which I kinda wanna watch again)

It was pre-nose job Angelina Jolie. =P

But I digress...

So I'm calling all bloggers (preferrably, the really "serious" ones, hahaha!) to check this out:

Click on the pic and you're good to go.

It's a whole day event so hopefully those who are interested can dedicate the time. The event will be tackling issues on new media and the like (which I think is something worth knowing more about) as well as featuring different topics regarding photography, gaming, digital living, etc. headed by top name brands.

It's a field day for bloggers. =)

So for those who are interested, kindly let me know (by leaving a comment =)


Hope to see you there! (That sounded helluh cheesy but I'm actually serious. =)

CAUGHT IN A BAD ROMANCE

It's a Black Saturday today... and I am in a shady internet cafe near East Avenue (man, I haven't been inside one of these in ages!) typing on a greasy keyboard with written letters scotch-taped on the keys (which made it difficult to find the home-row keys, by the way), sitting beside a young boy with red hair playing (what I think he just said) a game called "bitch vs. one piece"... and yeah, I probably heard him wrong but I'm not even gonna bother to have him repeat himself lest he curse me out or something (as that is what he's been doing while throwing his arms in the air after every online explosion.)

But this couldn't wait.

A few months ago, I was asked by a friend and managing editor of Metro Magazine to write an article for their "I-Woman" Section about dating bad guys. Now I didn't know exactly whether to be flattered to be asked to write for such a popular women's magazine... or a bit embarrassed that I was asked to write about something I wasn't exactly super proud about. (I mean, sheesh right? Who wants to relive a traumatizing romantic past and retell its history?) But since obviously, I was more flattered than embarrassed, I gladly obliged considering that everything I would divulge, I'd already reconciled and taken with a grain of salt. And also since I think stories of hope and triumph and strength over adversity and all that good stuff always makes for a good story.

Especially if it's true.

As mine was.

I suppose the only thing hard about writing it was the fact that I knew my boyfriend would want to read it. (Because I could seriously give a flying f*ck what other people would think). And also since I didn't want to hide behind a pseudonym. See, my boyfriend (God love him) holds me in the highest regard and treats me with the kind of respect I have never known or at least, recognized ever before from a partner. It almost makes me flush to think that he actually sees me as an angel in a way... and how he's happy seeing me as that. I mean, it's not a complete lie... I can be very angelic... but I'm definitely no saint, that's for goddamn sure. (And I ate meat yesterday, SO SUE ME.) But going back...

I thought it was my duty to be honest, to not short-change anyone with regard to what I knew and experienced. Because then, it would've just made everything that ever happened to me useless and in vain. Sharing it with other people makes it... the pain, the hardship, the many "f*ck-overs"... more like certificate-worthy experiences rather than just sick, painful lessons thrown at me by an unjust and merciless God.

And I didn't and don't ever wanna go out like that.

Besides, in order to shed light, one must endure the pain of burning.

So... for Metro Magazine's April 2010 Issue I proverbially "set myself on fire" with my "I-Woman" contribution entitled Caught In A Bad Romance.


.....
.....
.....

This is for two people I'm proud to have liked my work and my honesty:

To Paolo: for reading my un-edited draft... and telling me that it was written well... and that he loved me more than ever after having read it.

And to my sister Roni: who went out of her way to call me and tell me she just bought a copy earlier today and read it... and was proud of me for writing it.

(I am seriously tearing up right now.)

....

So if y'all chance upon a copy... and take the time to read it... I hope it imparts the kind of knowledge and wisdom that I hoped it would.