#just saying 2

I honestly think I could become one of those professional wedding planners for couples who are on a tight budget.

And maybe even a marriage counselor, too. (maybe for a little extra)

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

Budget list-making is f*cking fun, I kid you not. I could do this sh*t all day, baby. All. Day. (Actually, it's all I've been doing for the past few days now *tee-hee*.) It's so addicting. And it's only NOW that I appreciate online bargain-hunting. Seriously. That sulit.com.ph site does NOT play. Man, bargains are frikkin' awesome. They excite the Hell out of me. I don't get how couples can spend so much on weddings. I told my sister I don't care if I have to DIY most of the wedding stuff ---- like...  if I have to grow my own flowers and make the bouquets and boutonnieres myself... or if I have to artzooka the invitations myself. And I honestly no longer mind if I don't have a gazillion guests... or if I wear an off-the-rack wedding gown... or if my cake is two-tiered and not three (I don't even remember ANY of the wedding cakes I've eaten at weddings!)

I just want to get married (again) to my husband because he's awesome. And if this is one way we can "dedicate" our love to God and our family and to the people who've made a difference in our lives (because seriously, a power couple wouldn't be a power couple without an amazing support system), who allowed us to touch and inspire them (and to help us with our wedding *giggles*, then I'm all for it.

Bring out the red plastic cups!

More importantly, I just want to get married within our means. 'Cause honestly, I would rather buy another TV than a three-tiered cake. Because they cost the same. And you can't watch Law and Order on a cake. And you can't watch Shutter Island whilst drinking Rum and Lime and getting drunk on the floor with your husband whilst trying to understand why Leo was crazy and who the Hell Andrew Laeddis was and why Leo was dream-jumping in Inception... with a cake.

Just saying.

#justsaying

Disclaimer: This is not a debate.

More like a rhetorical question, really.

I just wanna know if it's "wrong" (or better yet, WHY it's wrong) to discuss... nay... share information about delicate issues online

LIKE ABORTION, THERE I SAID IT!

while that dude who duped helluh people into putting all this money into billboards and stuff talking about a rapture that didn't happen wasn't as censored and they let him publish a book and run his mouth on radio.

Apparently it's not wrong to talk about the apocalypse (even though it made people want to off themselves and commit suicide ---which is a sin, right?--)... but it's wrong to talk about an issue (whether people want to believe it or not) that is REAL and HAPPENING and SOLD IN WOODEN CARTS... without people assuming that you condone it or that you're some Satan-lover. And I thought we were an open-minded, learned people. So why do people get so squeamish talking or hearing about it? Whatever happened to intelligent discourse? Does intelligence go out the window once "religion" is involved? (Ok that sounded like something Richard Dawkins would say.) I mean, exactly how many eggshells do we have to walk on?

Just. Saying.

VINYL ON VINYL

Because he and I share a love for vinyl.

Can't wait for these to arrive to add to our collection (Princess Leia, Yoda, Skrull, Baroness):





(Shout-outs to my girl Ruth who is now also on the Mighty Mugg bandwagon =)

And two new additions to his collection:

                             The guy on the left, my twin cousin Junior, hahahaha!!!


                         Because DJ Arbiewon is a great digger, he found this for me!

.....

And hopefully in 2014...

Vinyl Indigo Callanta Toledo (boy OR girl --- but Psyche wants a brother. =)

THE CROSSOVER

Can't wait to see my beautiful sister Mika in a few hours so Roni and I can have her on The Hangover Club (airing next week) and we can talk "wedding" talk (but not on the show cuz I don't think anyone would want to listen to a bunch of drunk girls getting all giddy about dresses and motifs and what not). It'll most likely be about sex again. Or maybe relationships. But who's to say when we've also got Raf and Casas giving us The Bad News on a "cross over" episode... brought to you by sarisarisounds.com. =)


                                       The Bride and her maids, hahahaha!


My sister's getting (civilly) married in London this December! *seethes with excitement* Wish I could be there to see it. *sigh*

Shoot. Roni and I should just fly out and go.

How Cosmopolitan Magazine changed my life.

I was reading one of my old Discovery Channel Magazines the other day and there was this story about how this one scientist saw an orangutan in a cage being sold at this market in Borneo. When no one bought the orangutan, the scientist saw the vendor just throw the animal in a pile of garbage looking to be dying of dehydration. The scientist took pity, got the orangutan, and nursed him back to health. After that, he put up a rehabilitation center for the endangered orangutan.

Of course there are other stories more inspiring ---- stories where people’s (and not orangutans’ though we apparently share 97% DNA with the intelligent species) lives are saved. Stories that inspire us to move.  Stories that are, in their very nature, moving.

Sometimes I think about my life and how nice it would be to do something awesome like that. Something huge. Something life-changing. Something worth sainthood. (Ok maybe not the last one.)

When I was young (and maybe even a tad shallow), I once dreamed of gracing the lovely and ultra-feminine cover of (get this): COSMOPOLITAN MAGAZINE.

*buries face in hands*

Not only that, I even thought of my own cover blurb to go with my glamorous cover (oh god here we go): Michelle Callanta ---- Woman of Substance (Just above an article entitled How to find HIS G-spot or Why good girls like bad boys?)

Right????!!!!

Of course I’d need to have done something AWESOME that merited a cover. Only… I didn’t know what that was though. Maybe if I became an environmentalist or something. Or one of those war correspondents.

Something. But that wasn’t important. I just wanted to be on the cover for something i-don’t-quite-know-what-but-it-sure-as-Hell-must-be-awesome.

I even remember the cover that won me over ---- it was 1998, Heidi Klum wearing this pink dress from I forget who. (My Googling skills are not all that great). Regardless of the designer, I wanted to OWN that dress.

                                           Oh look! ORGASMS GUARANTEED!

After that, Cosmo was like… winning the Pulitzer for a girl like me back in the day (though strangely, I’m not quite sure what kind of girl I was to want something like that. Maybe I thought I, too was a FUN FEARLESS FEMALE. If I wasn’t then, I surely worked my way to become one... though I probably didn't go about it the right way to become "fun" and "fearless", but that's not the point. =)

So I got to college and I told a girlfriend about my unforgivably (though amusingly) superficial hopes of becoming the next Cosmo covergirl. She replied, “Why be on the cover of Cosmo when you can be on the cover of Time?”

Before she said that, Cosmo was as ambitious as it got for me.

Now now don’t get me wrong:

Cosmo is awesome.

Cosmo taught me a lot of things growing up. (What. Up. Bedside Astrologer.)

Cosmo has a special place in my heart.

Cosmo was the reason I wanted to work for a magazine.

(If I couldn’t be on the cover, at least I could have my work inside its pages.)

I mean… I’m not exactly fashion-forward. Heck, I don’t really like fashion all that much unless it’s something I like for myself. I wasn’t all that into looking glamorous all the time either (and I’m sure this isn’t what Cosmo preaches that you have to be both fashion-forward and glam but that’s how I saw it as a young-un).

I did think I would be a pretty good sex/relationship writer. (Thanks to my wanting to become fun and fearless, but again, that's not the point. =)

But I needed a job right away. And there wasn’t an opening at Cosmo.

But there was one at Gadgets. (At that point, I thought I’d settled to just working for any ol’ magazine so long as it was… a magazine.)

Then I got pregnant.

And maybe I didn’t know it at the time… but I guess God thought of showering me with these serendipitous blessings all in one go because I’d been miseducated all along.

And so I became a single working mom at 23.

Still fun. Still fearless. Just no longer as driven (by the delusion of grandeur, mostly) to want to become an environmentalist. Or a war correspondent. Or even a saint.

I had a much higher calling.

Ok… no.

Not higher.

More like…

Louder.

Though I guess you could say it’s higher in a sense… as my daughter’s voice can get pretty high when she’s excited about something.

And I suppose it’s higher too in a sense… as I’m uplifted when I look at my partner and see the same ring on his finger as mine.

Higher… as I soar when I can help the people I love by simply existing, sober or drunk.

So no, I don’t think I’ll be stirring any movements anytime soon. Nor do I think I’ll be dedicating my life to sainthood.

But I sure as Hell will be taking care of my own… with the humble hope that I raise a wonderful child, inspire an amazing man, and stir the hearts of those dear to me so that they can do the same for others…

So that THOSE others can go off to become scientists who put up rehabilitation centers for orangutans.

                           How come orangutans don't get as much hype as pandas?

CLASSICAL CONDITIONING

In the spirit of our love and humble beginning, my husband and I still, as much as possible, email each other when we're at work (even when we're already texting, chatting, calling, or simply waiting for the other to get home so we can "communicate" some more)...

Today was no different... and I thought of sending him a beautiful quote by Milan Kundera.

"Oh lovers! be careful in those dangerous first days! once you've brought breakfast in bed you'll have to bring it forever, unless you want to be accused of lovelessness and betrayal."

It was simply a lovely and loving reminder... to be taken in jest and with a grain of salt. (Because yeah, sending sweet poems and songs and quotes is something he and I still actually like to do because we're corny and inspiring like that. =)

His response to my email?

What do you mean? Is this because i didn't cook baon? But i asked you if you still wanted and you said it's ok and that we should just have brunch right? Coz i would have happily made you baon. You know that, waff. I always enjoy cooking (the little amount of "frying" that i can) for you.

?!/@$%$^&??!@$?!!


Can. I. get. an. L.M.F.A.O.

<------------------------- what a pathetic excuse for an emoticon.

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

Seriously.

I was laughing myself to tears when I read that out loud.

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

Does that make me a terrible person?

*shrugs*

*giggles*

*guffaws*

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

Milan Kundera also wrote, "You can't measure the mutual affection of two human beings by the number of words they exchange."

Quality over quantity, I say.

My husband totally cracks me up.

WOMEN WHO BEND...

"Women bend. Men break."

Roni, Beverly, Danee, Mary Rose... and to all of my other girls who straight-up CSI-slash-FBI-slash-homeland security the sh*t out of their relationships... here's to you.

'Cause you know we do more than just bend over backwards. =P

LIFE AFTER MAY 21

Just one kiss from you
That changed my life
In just a minute, girl
It was just
That kiss from you
That showed me life
Can be so beautiful...

***Here's to another day of life and loving...

'Cause I'm a Rock n Roll Girl

QUESTIONS FOR SARISARISOUNDS DJs


1. Guilty Pleasure Artist/Band and/or Song OR Favorite Local Artist

Man, I used to listen to a lot of Roselle Nava and Donna Cruz back in the day (that’s how I learned to speak Filipino aside from watching Thalia-telenovelas). Now you CANNOT tell me that they weren’t a guilty pleasure one time or another. Can I get a “isang tanong, isang sagot” up in this??? That was like my highschool anthem… a time when boys were dense. Ok they still are.

Favorite local artist is… Regine Velasquez. Then Miscellaneous. =P

2. Local celebrity crush

Papa Piolo is a beautiful man. Dunno if I have crush on him though. I did once have a crush on Sam Concepcion circa 3 years ago when he was still all tweeny-bopper and cute and “un-touched” HAHAHAHA! Now he’s reached the height of his puberty and stuff. That just don’t appeal to me anymore.

3. Alternate band names (Band names that made the short list) OR for the non-musicians: If you had a band/group, what would you name it?

I actually helped name one of Nino Avenido’s bands, VHE. We all just got drunk one day at Circus Studio (I think after a shoot with Greyhoundz) and they were thinking up band names for their “neo-grunge” band and we came up with all sorts of dumb sh*t that mainly included the word “keps” as a suffix ---- Repakeps, Tea-Keps, Clapping Keps, Flaming Keps, Knee-Keps, Grey Keps, Out of Body Keps, Alice in Keps... until I asked what kind of music they played and Audz kept saying “it’s very hard to explain” … ergo… VHE.

http://michellecallanta.multiply.com/video/item/37/LORD_OF_KEPS <------ the video! =P

If I had a band, I’d name it… oh I dunno. The Creamy Bosoms. Or “Dimples Doblete” courtesy of Tito Gary aka Garon who apparently plays for COG and I never knew that after all this time I’ve known him and gone to his birthdays.

4. Who would play you in a movie of your life/band/music?

I’d want Shannyn Sossamon to play me. She has such a real face, you know? She has that type of look that makes her prettier the more she dresses down, or the shorter she cuts her hair, or the less make-up she wears --- a very raw beauty with natural features that just speak for themselves. Like an underrated Angelina Jolie. Even the way she answers the questions thrown at her is so down-to-earth... like she's saying it like it is. I see a lot of myself in her. =)

5. Post-gig cravings

(As a fan girl of Miscellaneous?) Kentucky. Fried. Chicken. For some finger-lickin’ goodness.

6. (Recording for Sari-Sari) Recording staples (food, drinks, entourage, etc)

Vodka. Redbull/Cobra. Chips. Cigarettes (for the breaks). Water (for when I start to get drunk). My co-host Roni. My manager/director/script writer/husband DJ Switch. And whoever SARISARISOUNDS serves up for us to get down and dirty with.

7. Gig motto (whether it's your gig or a gig you want to go to)

So long as there are beer stubs or a bar tab, I’m good.

8. What flavor of ice cream would you be?

Cookies and cream[y] bosom.

9. If your life was a song, what would the title be?

Insouciance.

10. Describe the perfect date.

You’re with someone you REALLY like, like uncompromisingly or un-blindly. A person who gives you butterflies in your stomach or plasters this weird smile on your face. A person whose skin burns you when you accidently (or not totally accidentally) brush or graze it. Perfect dates, I think, have a lot to do with who you’re with and not necessarily what you do on that date. Hell, you two can be at Kowloon drinking Redhorse and eating siomai til 6am (winks at husband) --- and though that would not normally constitute a very romantic date by our standards --- it could trump all of the other expensive dinners or weekend getaways you’ve gone on, compromisingly and blindly… so long as you are with someone you really like. And likes you back.

11. Phobias

Claustrophobia. And loud, obnoxious vexations to my spirit. People who reek of pretense like “Man, even God can’t save you from being fake.” (Ok maybe the last two aren’t exactly phobias, more like allergies but yeah.) I have more pet peeves than phobias. =)

12. What is your earliest music-related memory? OR for the musicians: What was the song that made you into a musician?

MY PINK BARBIE CASSETTE TAPE THAT CAME WITH MY ROCKnROLL BARBIE. 

13. Name one thing that many people don't know about you (e.g. That you're really shy in front of crowds, that you are a dive instructor, hidden talents etc.)

I think people don’t think I’m approachable. But I am. I seriously am. I just appear intimidating. But once you muster up the courage to know that [I’m approachable], I can become your Dr. Phil in two-seconds and three beers. And for all of the freakiness I say on our show, I’m actually pretty reserved when it comes to sex. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

14. Most favorite place in the country

In the loving arms of my husband and daughter, my home. Then there’s Los Banos, Laguna because that’s where I did a lot of my “growing up.” I wouldn’t be hosting a show such as The Hangover Club without that magical place of 30-peso 500mL Redhorses and 20-peso full-on siomai meals.

15. If you could go on a road trip right now, to anywhere, with anyone, where would you go and who would you take with you?

Like right now as I’m sitting here at my desk at my office waiting for the magazine proofs to be printed out and handed to me to edit on this lovely Friday afternoon, if I had the opportunity to get the f*ck out of here and go on a road trip, I would take DJ Switch of Café 808 and drive up to Sea Park Beach Resort, La Union.

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

Get to know your favorite SariSari Sounds DJs at sarisarisounds.com ----> original filipino music

What she does when she [thinks] no one's looking...

Even though she makes no effort to make herself un-heard. =)

And yes, she's known how to work a dvd player since she was 2 and a half.

......

......

CHICKENHEAD

To those chicken heads who had the audacity... nay... the sheer dumb-f*ckedness to actually go out of their way to message my little sister on Facebook and ask her if she could buy them a BlackBerry (under the stupidly whack-ass assumption that she would get them one because her hardworking, hard-earning boyfriend got his friend one, who was just as big of a chickenhead to ask for one in the first place, but that's just MY opinion) ----- even if it was just a joke... even if it was just to spite her...

All I gotta say is...

"You can pay for school (Hell, an international school even) BUT YOU CAN'T. BUY. CLASS."

And you know Jay-Z don't play.

Crass. Ass. Chickenheads.

I'm so f*cking annoyed. These same chicks who scream "I'm independent, I'm a queen. Yada yada yada." Same f*cking CHICKENS.

Get an education. Better yet, go take daddy's money and buy some f*cking manners. Or even better BETTER yet... GET A F*CKING JOB and buy your own goddamn BlackBerry. OR.... find your own well-off boyfriend and ask his ass, since you're already so gross that way to have to ask.

DRUNK DRUNK DRUNK

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it - it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.
But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is
singing, everything that is speaking... ask what time it is and
wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: "It is time to be
drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be
continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

---Charles Baudelaire

.......

I love how at the end of every really really really long night... of merriment, intoxication, reckless abandon... (save for the mad rush to hold your vomit in your cheeks and keep some sort of dignity by not blowing on someone's shoes or two feet from the toilet you somehow failed to reach)... you find yourself having these mad epiphanies on love and life and what you want to do with it and what really matters and all of those things your rhyme and reason won't allow you to discover or to realize with the inhibitions of sobriety.

When after a night of "Woohoo! Yeah!! This is my song!! *cue Trey Songz - Say Ahhh* whilst opening your mouth, vodka-redbull in hand, dancing with epileptic fury" ... you conjure up this incredible, outtanowhere sense of calm and just straight up confess the desires of your palpitating heart.

Drunk people have the awesomest confessions.

(I mean, imagine making out with helluh people and straight up partying, living it up... only to say how much you'd like to find a nice girl... to get married... and to get away from all-this-sh*t... at the end of the night.)

That's truth right there. (Although, no one said you couldn't have fun whilst searching for the truth... or "the one" right???? I mean, come the f*ck on. Ain't nothing like the chase... or the search. =)

.....

Then there's the next morning when you swear you're never gonna drink again... and pound away at your already pounding head, wishing away all of the dumbf*ck things you said and/or did because of your happy inebriation.

That's awesome, too. Like our man Charles B. said, "It's the only way."

                                         The Real-Life Hangover Club

What an "I Do" will cost you.

"Blessed are the meek for they shall inherit the earth." <------ so what's up with that, huh?

.......

I've been married for 2 months and 3 days now.

We still have our ups and downs. Still have our doubts (not adultery type shit, more like, "I hope you can one day get over being bi-polar" type doubts, but that's really just my problem). Still have those same petty squabbles you'd think were only monopolized by boyfriends and girlfriends --- as if becoming "husband" and "wife" makes you immune to being "trivial". I don't know if being married makes anyone better than any other couple who's not. And now that I'm actually married, I think all of those grandeur thoughts I used to have about marriage and weddings and all that stuff have become more simplified.

I'm watching the Root of all Evil.

And seriously... for all religion is worth... the only thing I really can't get over is how we have evidence of dinosaurs and still insist that the Book of Genesis is correct. If it weren't so frustrating, it'd be funny.

We're saving up for our church wedding next year.

Man, I always wanted a wedding.

But when little girls dream of their dream fairytale weddings, I don't think they included a financial breakdown of that sh*t. Hell, I don't remember ever whipping out a calculator when I was eight nor did I hope that my husband to be would be able to pay for all of the elegance and beauty I had designed in my head. (I think little girls assume that "love" will cover the expenses, hahaha! Had I truly believed that then I should've just gotten paid for all the "love" I gave away and saved up for this "dream" wedding. =)

My husband says he owes it to his family to have a church wedding. In my case, I think I just owe it to that little girl in me to have a wedding... even though that "little girl" isn't paying diddly for it, nor is she the one working her ass off to get it. I mean, what more could she want right? She's married to a great guy. She has a lovely, intelligent daughter. She's not starving. She has a roof over her head. She has an awesome family. She's charming and pretty and independent and strong-willed (yes, I'm not even gonna be modest about it).

*sigh*

I don't mean to sound crazy.

But it's just not making sense to me.

And this isn't me being disenchanted. Or even UN-romantic.

I just need a little indulging here.

I mean, I watched the Royal Wedding. (After my friend, Dianna told me to turn on the TV just to have a look at Kate Middleton's dress, after I told her I wasn't watching it because I would rather take a nap.)

It's as beautiful as it can get as far as weddings are concerned. Unlimited resources. An absolutely grandiose and magnificent ceremony.

Strangely, all I could think about was how Princess Diana and Prince Charles had the same awesome wedding... and look at how that marriage turned out. It made me sad. Amidst all of that beauty... it just made me sad.

I could only wish William and Kate aren't doomed to the same fate.

......

My husband says it's ok if ever we lost our rings (not ok ok, but just ok)... that other couples have lost and replaced their rings helluh times... that it was just a symbol, nothing more really.

Aren't weddings like just symbols too? Like surely, if people noticed we had lost our rings... or that we weren't wearing them, wouldn't they be off-ed by it? But for us, it wouldn't mean a thing because we understand, ring or not, we were married... and we might've promised the priest we'd be married and declared it to our family and friends, but ultimately, the only person I have to keep that promise to is to my husband and vice versa.

Right?

.......

I did have this idea once to get married at the Banawe Rice Terraces (something about it being called "the stairway to heaven" and I figured, you couldn't get any closer to God than that.) I mean, sure, not everyone would be able to witness it... and we wouldn't be able to show it off.

I just thought it'd be a cool experience, ya know? Like yeah where'd y'all get married? The Rice Terraces. Was anyone there? Nope. Just us. Being married by God.

'Cause I believe in God, y'all.

But man, I don't think He expected people to actually shell out helluh money just so He could bless that union.

Then again, you can't get gifts if there isn't a party to go to.

And I guess it wouldn't hurt to have a wedding if we could have memories that looked like this.

                                                 Like frikkin' rockstars.

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

And here's another important issue raised by the very brilliant Almie Rose, a woman truly after my own heart.

A wedding reception is a party. A wedding ceremony is something else, and if you want to keep that guest list limited, then I understand. But let’s not kid ourselves, your wedding reception is a big party for everyone to celebrate you and your husband/wife/partner. That’s totally cool, but how can you tell me I can’t bring a date? Because you’re paying for dinner? When I throw parties, I provide alcohol and food too, and if someone wants to bring a date I’m like, go for it, because that’s what you do when you want your friends to celebrate with you. If you don’t think more is merrier, then keep your reception to family only and your best friend.


PLUS ONE OR GET NONE <------- Click for full entry

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

BECAUSE TONIGHT, I WANT THINGS TO CHANGE.

NEW YORK, I LOVE YOU

......


Because sometimes...
to say "I love you"
and to hear the words
returned to you
is enough
nay...
is all it takes
to move you to tears

To [re]move the burdens of your heart.

.....

[Married] people really need to remember that.

SARI SARI SOUNDS - the official launch

For those who have had a chance to listen to sarisarisounds.com and believe we are really on to something here:

Come out and play with us and see the voices behind OPM's newest and truest advocate.

Meet the DJs <------------------- Shot by Sari Sari Sounds DJ and official awesome photographer (you can only guess, hahahaha!)

Of course, Roni and I will be there to represent The Hangover Club... getting ready for yet another hangover the next morning.


THE HANGOVER CLUB photoshoot <----------------------- Where we do "looking drunk" really well. (Actually, after posing with empty bottles of beer, we decided to drink for real and pull a 5:thirsty.)

.....

See you all on the 27th!!!! =)

.....


This week's schedule for THE HANGOVER CLUB is Friday the 13th, 3:30pm (I dunno why we can't get our sched together but yeah. 3-ish is a safe bet. =)


And...

I really...

Really...

Like this song. (Because it's been a long time since I've gotten smashed like THAT and because that's real vomit in the video. =)

WHITE OLEANDER

“You cannot think you will cut yourself free from me so easily. I live in you in your bones, the delicate coils of your mind. I made you. I formed the thoughts you find, the moods you carry. Your blood whispers my name. Even in rebellion, you are mine.”

......

I tried not to make it worse by asking for things, pulling her down with my thoughts. I had seen girls clamor for new clothes and complain about what they made for dinner. I was always mortified. Didn’t they know they were tying their mothers to the ground? Weren’t chains ashamed of their prisoners?

.......

I realized they didn’t [call out for] their own mothers. Not those weak women, those victims…They didn’t mean the women who let them down, who failed to help them into womanhood…bingers and purgers, women smiling into mirrors, women in girdles, women on barstools…not the women watching TV while they made dinner, women who dyed their hair blond behind closed doors trying to look twenty-three. They didn’t mean the mothers washing dishes wishing they’d never married, the ones in the ER, saying they fell down the stairs, not the ones in prison saying loneliness is the human condition, get used to it. They wanted a the real mother, the blood mother, the great womb, mother of a fierce compassion, a woman large enough to hold all the pain, to carry it away. What we needed was someone who bled, someone deep and rich as a field, wide-hipped mother, awesome, immense, women like huge soft couches, mothers coursing with blood, mothers big enough, wide enough for us to hide in, to sink down to the bottom of, mothers who would breathe for us when we could not breathe anymore, who would fight for us, who would kill for us, die for us.

.......



Beauty was my mother’s law, her religion. You could do anything you wanted, as long as you were beautiful, as long as you did things beautiful. If you weren’t, you just didn’t exist. She had drummed it into my head since I was small. Although I had noticed by now that reality didn’t always conform to my mother’s ideas.





.......

Everybody asks why I started at the end and worked back to the beginning, the reason is simple, I couldn't understand the beginning until I had reached the end. There were too many pieces of the puzzle missing, too much you would never tell. I could sell these things. People want to buy them, but I'd set all this on fire first. She'd like that, that's what she would do. She'd make it just to burn it. I couldn't afford this one, but the beginning deserves something special. But how do I show that nothing, not a taste, not a smell, not even the color of the sky, has ever been as clear and sharp as it was when I belonged to her. I don't know how to express that being with someone so dangerous is the last time I felt safe...


To my beautiful mother...

TO ALL MOMS ON MOTHER'S DAY

Please. Take advantage of technology.
And the talents of your wonderful friends.
And make sure to capture the most special moments of you and your child's life.

CALYPSO: Dianna Jeraldine Capco

***Dianna, I didn't know that there were these many comments! I checked your site earlier to see if my photos with my sister were already up... and I saw this set again... and HOLY FRIKKIN' COW. I was so stunned to see all the nice things people had to say. I'm fighting back tears as I'm typing this (so my colleagues here at the office don't think anything's wrong with me... and realize I'm not actually working. =)

But really. Thank you. It's such a lovely Mother's Day surprise ---next to my own mom coming in earlier today to bring me 2 bags of mangoes, outtanowhere--- and I'm absolutely speechless and... still fighting back the vapors at this point.

Thank you. Thank you for capturing, so wonderfully, a moment in my life that defines a very big part of my happiness, triumph, and success. Thank you for allowing, nay... encouraging me to share this piece of my heart with you.

Michelle, you are one of a kind. One day, when Psyche grows up, she will always look back on these experiences and will proudly say to the world that you are her MOM!

Oh God, I'd want nothing more!

.....

And as of late, I can proudly say that Psyche considers this song her favorite lullaby:



I've tasted love beyond all fear
And you should know it's love that brought you here
And in one perfect night
When the stars burned like new
I knew what I must do
I'll give you a million things I'll never own
I'll give you a world to conquer when you're grown...

REMIX to Summer

               Two of the things I'd like this weekend... or at least some time this month.


***Taken at the Kickers Spring/Summer 2011 Launch ---- the night I drank a bit too much and was "almost" denied access to the MRT for reeking of alcohol. *smacks forehead*

And here's the kind of remix I want playing in the background while I'm swimming in our new pool, drinking a Pale, and savoring the aroma of grilled basil chicken:

A Mother's Prayer...

Because Mother's Day is THIS Sunday though I always figured it to be the 2nd or 3rd Sunday of May and I actually had to Google it (because far be it for me to miss my own holiday) and because Psyche was crying last night wanting to be with me only I couldn't hear her wailing from the other room because I was watching Law & Order... knowing I should've played with her un-clothed Barbie dolls with her when she asked.

I promise tonight I will. I really really promise. (Please God let me get home safe to my child tonight so I can play "Barbie" with her...

And may I realize that Mother's Day is every day.)

........

A Mother’s Prayer for Her Child By Tina Fey

First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the Damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the Beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half And stick with Beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes And not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, Youdammit.

May she play the Drums to the fiery rhythm of her Own Heart with the sinewy strength of her Own Arms, so she need Not Lie With Drummers.

Grant her a Rough Patch from twelve to seventeen.Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, Give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, For I will not have that Shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a Mental Note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen.




***"Psyche" by M.R. Gavin