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