A lesson from the Pointer Sisters.

"I hope you can still find things to be excited about,” he said, in an oddly misplaced fashion as we walked aimlessly around the mall. We were shopping for the initial, minor necessities for our apartment --- latex paint, curtain rods, a dishrack. Unbeknownst to us, there was a huge mall-wide sale, that particular day being its last day, so there we were, amidst an incredible sea of eager beavers hoping to score that ultimate bargain --- where you get WHAT YOU NEED, IN AWESOME CONDITION AND QUALITY, AT A DISCOUNTED PRICE.

But personally, I thought we looked more like hapless cattle than eager beavers.

…..

Moving in together was something we had decided on only several months after our relationship began. Of course, as of late, we’d have only been together almost 10months so I guess you can say we had already figured out a lot of what we wanted out of our relationship in a relatively short period of time. (While I argue that there are some who take years trying to figure out the same thing only to realize that they didn’t want the relationship to actually progress in the first place.) Like in that movie Definitely, Maybe, Isla Fisher advised, “Forget about the real deal. You don’t find it, it finds you… you know, when you are ready for marriage, a mortgage... the person that you are with THEN is the one.

Then Ryan Reynolds replied, “So it’s not who. It’s when?”

I don’t think this is entirely true when it comes to love and its success… remembering my father when he told us he had married our mother because that was when he was “ready” for a family. He was 30 and he was financially stable. I know a lot of guys who still use that rather sophomoric criterion today when it comes to marriage.

When I was 9, I told an inquisitive uncle that I’d be married when I was 28. I just deeply believed that it was a good age and that I’d be in a good place, sufficiently content and fulfilled after a pre-ordained life of independence and finally ready to take that next step to share my life with somebody else.

Even the detour I took having a baby at 23 didn’t really deter nor discourage me from that childhood faith.

So there we were, shopping for things I agreed I would contribute to the development of our new and improved home… finally using the wealth I had so compulsively accumulated (more like hoarded, really) over the course of 5years or so… having strayed slightly away from the shopping schedule I had originally made, buying the furniture sooner rather than later, (I figured that serendipitous sale made it an opportune time to buy that new sofa and TV rack… with his credit card, sure enough), and savoring the full awareness I had with regard to my shopping  ---- because finally, I had the money, the rhyme and the reason.  And all the sigh-inducing times I said NO to a new pair of shoes, or that new dress, or to some good food (that wasn’t fast nor processed), or that overseas trip, or that new gadget ---- I found at that moment, wasn’t at all that big of a sacrifice compared to the gratification (though delayed) of being able to buy that black leather sofabed at 20% off, putting it in our newly painted living room, facing the 32-inch flatscreen Samsung I had ordered from Dubai at 10,000pesos less than what I’d pay for here,  and looking forward to all of the cozy, future DVD marathons with family and friends.

Needless to say, I was excited to build a home. Our home.

And I was excited to be married and to live as a young, happy, vibrant married couple in that home.

….

“I hope you can still find things to be excited about,” he said, in an oddly misplaced fashion as we walked aimlessly around the mall.

 “After we’re married and we’ve built our home and everything.”

And in a semi-diva, yes I know this much is true, matter-of-factly-sounding tone, I replied, “Well… you gotta have things to keep me excited about.”

So you ask what excites a woman. Truly.

Sure. There’s the traveling around the world. There’s the baby-making (this is not in order of importance or eroticism). There’s even that dream of building a public library (with REAL books, none of that digital e-book, batteries not included type sh*t) and making it our personal contribution to the world.

Then there’s… love.

(Wow that was corny! Hahahahaha!!! Sheesh for a lack of more profound-sounding epiphany! =)

But seriously.

Love, man. To love and be loved so you find excitement in waking up to a whole new day of loving. To be excited about simply living. To not just find exciting things to do, but to have that excitement as children do.

And you know who taught me that?

My daughter.

She gets excited over a bag of diapers and surprisingly, shouts (what I once perceived to be) a rather over-exaggerated though unquestionably sincere "thank you, mommy"… not just for the expensive Huggies pull-ups… but for the love she understands I put into buying those diapers, for taking the time away from her to work to bring her home some pampers. Frikkin’ pampers.

But there it was. That gratitude. That excitement.

So I guess... if you know you’re loved, then you should always have something to be excited about.