My Blog

i will never deny that i am a frustrated singer.  if i hadn’t gotten my dream job, i wouldn’t mind struggling to be a singer and join the millions of wannabes in the world. don’t get me wrong,  i don’t have a great voice, but i believe that my guts would more than compensate for it.  there are three things i am quite certain  of: (1)  i can carry a tune, (2) i can tell if  i sing off-key, and (3) theatrics make up for the want of anything.

since it is almost impossible for me to pursue a career in singing, i have turned to the next best thing: videoke.  i have "conquered" almost all decent videokehan in the city (although lara and i have yet to feel our way to country gents, where lara says has a very good collection of songs, including broadway), and i wouldn’t mind collecting five-peso coins to feed any videoke machine. 

sometimes i get carried away and think that someday i can be a real performer.  i used to feel, so pathetic, but i somehow changed when i learned that one of my favorite authors maya angelou once was a singer wannabe who became a sensation because of the breaks given to her.  in her autobiography, she wrote how she had had the break in showbusiness.  somehow, her experience tells me that i can dream all i want and, when the opportunity presents itself, grab it and hold on to it.

in maya’s book, she recalled how excited she was to tell her friend that she was going to be a singer.  the friend just listened to maya as she tried to contain her excitement.  sensing the reservation of her friend, and perhaps desperately trying to prove herself, maya broke into a song (she would admit that she had sung it in three different notes, unintentionally i presume).  after that, her friend just looked her in the eye and told her straight in the face, ‘marguerite johnson,…you have got a lot of nerve.

  and so have i.

sometime in the ’90s, i had a crazy, intimate affair with a girl named ally.  we met once a week, and nothing mattered to me more than listening and learning more about her life.  i was a student then, and like any immature, inexperieced lover, i was too eager to sacrifice everything.  i missed group meetings, rehearsals, even meals just so i wouldn’t miss getting to know her better. she was my life, and i was hers.  knowing her was the best thing that ever happened to my life.

okay, okay so i exaggerated a bit!  i can’t help romaticising my experience with ally mcbeal whose eponymous show gave me all i needed to know to better understand myself.  at some point in my life, i was convinced that ally was my soulmate.  her dilemmas and concerns in life parallel mine.  just imagine my sorrow when i viewed the last episode of the show.  i was depressed for a while, and like all jilted lovers who don’t consider suicide an option, i moved on.  and to loosely paraphrase regine’s song, my experience with her made me stronger.  the lessons i got from the show will never be forgotten, for how could i?  my life experiences seem to fit in all the molds left by the show.

what makes your problem bigger than everybody else?

like ally, i am self-obsessed and a bit neurotic.  i seem not to have gotten over that phase of childhood when one thinks that the world revolves around him/her.  i whine just about everything and i enjoy doing it every chance i get. i complain that people take life so seriously, yet i also get uneasy when people are excessively happy. most of the time, i complain about my personal inconveniences: the lack of food choices in restaurants, the lack of plus-size boutiques in town, the non-existence of my social life, etc.  at one point, perhaps irritated by my constant whining, a good friend commented that my worries in life are pea-sized compared to the problems of other people.  so if someone asks me what makes my problems bigger than everybody else, i would probably give the same answer ally gave billy, "They’re mine."

sometimes the things that you regret the most are the things that you don’t do.

nothing can be truer than this.  there had been nights when i wondered how my life would have turned out if i had made different choices.  the what ifs in life are more tormenting because you know that you just can’t turn back time.

if you think back and replay your year and if it doesn’t bring you tears, either joy or sadness, consider your year wasted.

ever since high school, i’ve somehow maintained a journal.  re-reading my entries has been my year ender and i am happy to note that my entries never fail to give my tear ducts a good tuning every now and then. 

loving means learning how to compromise.

i have learned that if one needs to be self-less, one has to be truly in love.  sadly, i have not met that person whose demands, needs, and wants i am willing to take.  but i am hopeful that one day, i will.

we all want love to come along yet we apply all restrictions as to how it should come along.

this is classic ME. i never grow tired going to all novena masses asking for a little excitement in my life, but when a potential candidate comes along, i never run out reasons not to date the person. could it be that like ally, i too am incapable of being happy?  that i am addicted to drama?

i need to know that love still works.  even if i am alone, i need to know that when i go to bed at night.

despite the drought in my love life, i still continue to be hopeful.  no matter how i promise myself not to attend another wedding of a friend, of a relative, or a friend’s friend, i continually do so.  it’s not that i am masochistic, but no matter how excruciating it is, i need to believe that its magic still works; after all, hope is what gets me (and most people) going.

i saw my good friend mark the other night, and somehow our meeting reminded me why we are good friends: we both love long talks.  i remember when were much younger, we’d lose track of time and realize that we had been talking non-stop for hours. 

talking with mark is always a delight.  with him, topics can neither be too trivial nor too deep; this is why our conversational pieces range from the mundane to the most philosophical ones that our brains can accommodate.  when i talk to mark, i feel no danger of being judged.  i can talk nonsense and i’d run no risk of being tagged shallow.  i can tell him my twisted views on life and relationship and not be labelled nonconformist or deviant.  perhaps our long talks have preserved both our sanity and somehow cushioned us to the blows that life brings us.  yes, one can never totally prepare for life’s surprises, but our sharing of our experiences, fears, hopes, and aspirations allows us to get by life with much ease.

when i was in college, i met another kindred spirit in oliver.  like mark, oli is someone easy to get on with.  i don’t feel inhibited to talk to him about anything.  perhaps, of all my friends in college, i can say that it was oliver who understood my weirdness the most.  sometimes i felt i put too much baggage on him, but he was gentle enough to put up with me.

i may not have the perfect life.  i still struggle with it paycheck to paycheck.  i have insecurities like everyone else.  but if there’s one thing that i am truly grateful for no matter how excruciating life can get, it would be having very good friends like mark and oliver.  but then again, i ask myself, how come i don’t connect with my other male friends the way i do with oli and mark?

don’t get me wrong.  i have many male friends, but the level of conversation that we almost always have doesn’t go beyond the surface.  we joke, exchange brutal banters, talk about work, compare notes on what’s hot and not.  but as to go deeper, as in talk about our own personal struggles, fears, and hopes, the chance is as impossible as getting the real age of keanna reeves.

in his article entitled "seamless souls," peter nardi wrote that male to male friendship is quite different from female to female friendship.  he described male to male friendship as side by side and female to female friendship as face to face.  this description claims that a female friendship has more room for intimacy.  i was so tempted to refute this but given the number of male friends i have who are not abashed to appear less "macho," i am compelled to rest my case.

i feel saddened how our society has become obsessed with labeling because it is this obsession that has hindered men to be more open, more sensitive, more emotional.  how can you expect a man to be totally honest about his feelings when at a very young age he is told that it isn’t manly to cry?  given that kind of conditioning, how can you expect him to openly acknowledge his weaknesses to another soul?

a lot of people associate intimacy to feminity, and therefore, most men dare not cross paths with that word.  few have courage to defy society’s expectations, and they’re branded "queer" and naturally tough men don’t want that. but then again, if you are so secure with your masculinity, why do you have to be affected by what other people say?  does your masculinity need the validation of many?  statistically, there are more men whose death is caused by suicide.  due to repressed emotions?  most likely.

i wish there were more marks and olivers in the world.  relationships wouldn’t be difficult to handle, emotions would be easier to handle, life would be more worth living. 

for those men who insist on acting it tough to the end, consider what lola, the main character in the movie kinky boots, has to say: "…ask any woman what she likes most in a man.  compassion, tenderness, sensitivity.  traditionally, the female virtues.  perhaps what women secretly desire is a man who is fundamentally a woman."  if this won’t convince you to let your emotional wall down, i don’t know what will.

al jarreau’s voice has always fascinated me.  when i was  younger, i often fantasized having a voice like his. i don’t hear much of his records now.  i even doubt if people my age know about him.  last time i saw him, he sang a duet with paris–not the camera-hungry hilton, but the american idol finalist.  during their performance, al, although visibly older, showed the same intensity that has endeared him to jazz enthusiasts. 

since that performance, i had actually wanted to listen to my old records again, but i only got to do it last night.  and boy was i glad i did!  there were so many outstanding tracks in his record, but what struck me the most was his rendition of "happiness" –a song horrifyingly butchered by a TV commercial now.  perhaps, i like the simplicity of the song.  or maybe, it’s one song that i really, really need right now– given the emotional state i am in.

anyway, the song inspired me to come up with a list of things that give me "happiness" these days.  are my ideas profound?  i doubt it.  in fact, a lot of puritans may disagree with my views on happiness.  but do i care?  HELL, NO!

well, happiness for me is

• buying a bag of cadbury chocolate with almonds and letting every piece of chocolate melt in my mouth.  there’s only one description for it–orgasmic (and promise, i don’t even completely understand what the word means).
• listening to nina simone late at night.  people say that music is soul food, and bless nina’s heart, she has made me "soulfully" obese.
• having a foot spa.  i swear, it’s very uplifting when you have your calluses removed.  some may consider it whimsical, but come to think of it:  you’re on your toes almost all the time.  you stand to go to places, you dance to flirt with other people, you kick people when you’re angry and if you’re the non-violent type, restraining yourself from kicking is a double effort on your feet’s part.  i guess, of all the body parts that need pampering, it is the feet that deserve it the most.
• eating pizza at pizza hut.  never mind that their service charge and other charges can be someone else’s meal budget; an occasional trip to the pizzaria wouldn’t leave you bankrupt.  well, if it does, you can always pass by the store, look at their newly painted walls, smile, and say, "i’ve contributed to that."  my friend once said that it’s pointless to eat in expensive places because at  the end of the day, you know where what you paid for would go.  i beg to differ.
• talking to friends.  the joy of eating out is not the food, but the company you’re with.  okay, okay.  the food counts too, but i don’t think you’d enjoy eating, even with the best food on the table, if you’re with somebody you loathe.  it’s just an invitation for indigestion

i had my regular dose of music this morning when i realized how music has influenced my life.  it never fails to amuse me that every time i play something on my player, my choices are always impeccably matched to my mood or feelings.  it’s not as if i really choose what i listen to; i just randomly get CDs from my stack. 

i have probably sung, even cried to, a thousand of songs.  every time i hear something sad, beautiful, and melodic, i always include it in my soundtrack.  i must have declared so many songs my favorite that a friend of mine said she’d lost track how many times i have used the phrase "my favorite song."  in fact, that’s probably one of my most overused expressions along with "shut up!" and really?"

i have always attempted to write about the soundtrack of my life, but my attempts proved to be futile because i’m a bit fickle (ok, ok.  almost always).  so what i’m going to share with you below are songs that i have been singing this month. 

don’t let me be misunderstood by nina simone.  this song is about a lover asking his/her partner to understand him/her for being imperfect.  although this is pretty much a love song, there are times when i feel like singing the line, "Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood," in a really theatrical way. 

Last week, my friends and I were having a chat in the office when the topic about love was brought up by one of us.  i shared to my friends that one of the definitions of love that i really like is from some philosopher who said that it is "two lonely people holding hands and looking at the same direction."  after i said this, my friend commented,"wow, ikaw na war?  i didn’t know you have that side."  "Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood."

I gave a modified true or false test.  my instruction was for students to read each statement carefully and determine if the underlined word or phrase makes it true or false.  if the underlined word makes the statement false, the student is supposed to write the correct word or phrase on the space provided to make it true; otherwise, students just write TRUE.  A student asked, "Sir, should we change the underlined word if it is true?  "Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood."

I say something unconventional, and people judge me for it.  "Oh Lord, please don’t let me be misunderstood."

when i see you smile by bad english.  i’ve heard a bad version of the song and it made me appreciate bad english’s version more.  i love this song because once there was a smile that made my life brighter.  but that smile might be brightening someone else’s day today.  (hold your thought!  don’t say "Ewww!"  just indulge me!)

waiting in vain by bob marley/annie lennox. well, what can i say?  here’s one song for the endless waiting.

no ordinary love by sade. i have often wondered if we are capable of loving unconditionally.  joan, my colleague, said that only God can do it.  what if you fall in love with somebody and you give your whole heart to that person? never mind that your love is not reciprocated.  never mind that you take pleasure in being readily available to that person, albeit, being underappreciated.  "i love you; you don’t have to love me back."  if that is not unconditional love, it definitely is no ordinary love either.

hello by kuh ledesma.  a few years ago, i met again, after some time, the person i have always regarded my soul mate.  i was apprehensive because i didn’t know how i’d take our meeting. our meeting went well; thanks heaven, i didn’t embarrass myself.  after that, i’ve been singing

                           hello, you haven’t changed at all

                          you still have that same look in your eyes

                          and when you smiled, i felt my heart beating fast

                         and i knew right there and then

                         something that i thought was gone came back

                         after all these years i realized

                         that i still care for you

guess i will always be singing this.

love is stronger than pride by sade.  there are times when my friends and loved ones get to my nerves.  i really get hurt easily but i have really learned how to compartmentalize my feelings.

                            i can’t pretend that i intend to stop living

                           i can’t pretend that i’m good at forgiving

                           but i can’t hate you, coz i love you

                          love is stronger than pride

why by annie lennox.  when i first heard this song, it blew my mind.  when annie sang the first line,"how many times do i have to tell you that i’m sorry for the things i’m done," i felt like she was expressing what i was thinking.  when relationships end, the most important question you can ask is why.

lately, i’ve been craving for everything sweet.  i do not know, but everyday this week, my feet have been leading me to  sweet shops.  yesterday, for example, my friend guia and i went to chantilly and ordered two big slices of chocolate roll.  i enjoyed my slice immensely, but guia, after two bites of the cake, complained that it was too dry and hard.  having noticed guia’s disappointment (i felt so sorry for her because cakes are supposed to cheer you up), i suggested that we go to goldilocks, and there i ordered another chocolate goody. i am not actually concerned that i crave for sweets: to say that i have a sweet tooth would be the understatement of the century.  i am more concerned on what makes me crave more these days.  you see, i’ve been trying to lose weight because of a crazy bet i made with my colleagues, and modesty aside, i am a lot lighter these days–i can even dare to wear semi-fit shirts (still the biggest size, though.  grrrrr).  however, if i don’t control my tongue and drool everytime i see cake, i will bloat in no time at all.  this is not a good sign.  past experiences tell me that i ‘m heading for fatville.  the last time i ballooned to horrifying proportions, i was stressed.  and it seems like stress is paying a visit again–something i dread since i am an emotional eater.

what could be stressing me out?

i think i’m working way too hard.  ask me where i hang out, and i can honestly say, "in the office."  when i pass by places like sted’s and see young students lazing around, i scoff out of envy.  i have never done that before, and i feel like i’m missing out on something.  i’ve always taken my work so seriously that i am afraid my idea of enjoyment would be something people can’t relate to.  sometimes i wish i could loosen up a bit and act my age for once.

these days, i dread waking up in the morning.  i just feel like going somewhere and doing nothing. 

like any other student, i was a bit skeptical about the ideals inculcated to us by our teachers.  for instance, i can still vividly remember how in one of my christian ethics class, our teacher told us that people, by nature, are good.  i wouldn’t have much trouble believing that one if i could not hear the news on the radio or see the gory pictures on tv.  i see too many murders, i hear too many scandals, and i hear about the shameless looting of funds by government officials.  these are enough reasons to lose faith on the goodness of people.  my perception of life is seemingly validated: this is a dog-eat-dog world, and if people want goodness, they may want to crossover to the next life, the eternal life.  i was so sold out about this idea until i learned about the touching experiences of my cousin.

it was a damp morning when my cousin liezl arrived in dumaguete.  after two years, my cousin is back in the city to finish her studies.  my cousin felt like a stranger to the city having been gone away for two years.  since it was a new start for her, she brought with her all her things, confident that she could temporarily leave her stuffs in my apartment.  unfortunately, i was indisposed in another city and would have arrived at a later time.

aside from the fact that she had no place to stay, my cousin realized that the more pressing problem was that she had no place to stash her things.  she was ready to panic when the tricycle driver she flagged down offered his home to her.  since she had no other option, my cousin agreed, and to her surprise, she got an accommodation far from what she had imagined:  the driver prepared her breakfast and let her use the bathroom.

when i got back to the city, i accompanied my cousin to collect her things.  there, i was more impressed by the driver’s generosity.  his home is a humble abode that has an architecture of a typical "bahay kubo."  it would not take a minute to know that the driver is economically challenged, yet he had the heart to help a fellow in need.

in another experience, liezl met another angel on the road.  while she was in cebu, she left her mobile phone in a taxi.  she knew that there was something wrong, but she never panicked.  she coolly dialed her own number using her friend’s phone, and the next thing she knew, the driver was telling her that he was on his way to return the phone.

i realize now that in the world of twisted people, plagued by the evils of society, there are still good people like these drivers; that in spite of the hardships of life, one can offer something to somebody.  the tricyle driver offered his home to my cousin, but he offered me a far more important value: an understanding of human kindness and compassion.  the taxi driver gave back my cousin’s phone, but he gave me back my trust to the human spirit.  and for that, i thank them.  even though i am not as lucky with people as my cousin is, i am happy to know that there is still hope for the people in these trying times.

I saw this entry while i was reading and re-reading my journal notebook.

note: while i was rummaging through my stuff, i found this article i wrote when i was still in college.  after re-reading it for the nth time, i realized that my life hasn’t changed a bit.  if i were to update this article, i would only need to change the year of the title.

SINGLED OUT: HOW I SURVIVED THE ’90s LOVELESS

if there was an organization called Kapunungan ng mga Loveless sa Pilipinas, i would be the first one to express allegiance to the group.  If such a group did exist and they would select the Most Loyal Member, without a doubt, i know i would romp away with the award without even trying hard for it and without going through the tedious process of screening.

i am what  you would call the "unhitched" in a generation when changing partners seems to happen as fast as changing underwears.  in a prom, i would be the spectator in constant search of something while everybody else is on the dance floor, touching one’s partner and moving to the rhythm of the band.  i am the fifth wheel in every double date of friends, always the spare tire, always the best man and never the groom.  i am what rupert everett’s character in "my best friend’s wedding" would describe, "devastatingly handsome who knows how to have fun," only that i am neither handsome nor ugly, nonetheless a regular guy who realizes that life could be fun.  i am everything but the knight in shining armor, and i’ve realized this after painful reconsiderations.

truth of the matter is, months ago, i graduated from being a teenager and now, i’m moving to a more mature phase in life.  the common factor of both chapters of my life is that i spent the first one and the next one alone.  yes, alone but never lonely.

i am proud to say that i am travelling the road less trodden–the road people mistakenly consider the path of loneliness.  of course, the road has never been an easy one as i encountered bumps of criticisms, curves of stereotypes, and potholes of unexamined judgments.

it must be human nature to fear being solitary.  everywhere i go, be it on the street or alone in a restaurant, i can’t help noticing the sneering stare of people, as if i had become the joke of the century.  some people may find dining alone ridiculous; many may feel naked walking alone, but it is in being with one’s self that one can capture the quintessence of life.

admittedly, there are low points in being loveless.  sometimes i get tired of going home late at night and finding out that nobody’s there waiting for me to ask me how my day was or just to greet me goodnight (kahit tawag man lang!).  at times, i turn green with envy when i look around and see lovers display affection publicly.  worse, when i watch mushy romantic movies, i don’t have someone to hold on to except the side of my chair and suddenly, the theater would feel so cold and i get tempted to ask the couple next to me, "pwedeng maki-hug?"

one night after a long day’s work in school, i went home and turned on the radio.  what was on the airwaves was the voice of regine velasquez belting out, "i just don’t wanna be lonely."  i sat for a moment motionless, and the next thing i knew i felt like strangling regine for singing that.  but these bouts of love-sickness are passing.  you feel them a moment, but they would subside as you realize how overwhelmingly beautiful life really is.  you can’t just opt to take your own life because you’re loveless.  drown your sorrows with alcohol?  nah, it would be too expensive and besides, walking through the valley of self-pity would lead you nowhere.

the ’90s has proven to be a breakthrough in everything.  people are starting to lose their inhibitions and decide to live boldly as technology continues to change by the day.  the world seemingly becomes a place not for the weak and i, being loveless, realize that life must be lived to the fullest and with the most positive outlook that life would turn out fine.  people and things help me get through day by day and give meaning to me to rise up each morning and look forward to tomorrow.  should i be asked how i stay happy, i could only give these answers:

prayer. the true pillar of my existence is God.  every day, His words get me going, and understanding that He’s always there gives me an assurance that i will never go through life alone.  if i ever feel lonely, there’s always Him whom i could call on.

family. believe me, they may be the most unappreciated people in our lives, but they truly are our unsung heroes.  as i journey through the drama called life, one thing i learned is that my family is my strength and pedestal.  they’re on-call 24 hours a day, and if i ever get sentimental over things, they’re always there to lend emotional support.

friends. they may be the source of insecurity when you see their love lives blossom, but they’re the ones who drag your feet when you’re not feeling like going out.  in my case, they’re the ones who encourage me to go out with them dateless and they’re the ones who cheer me up when i’m in the lowest key of my life.

music. songs have always been there for me that without them, life would be completely dull.  music has become therapeutic when all my chips are down.  i appreciate different kinds of music, but i can really identify with rhythm and blues because they capture my emotion perfectly.

when i reached the point when i wasn’t so sure about myself, it was whitney houston’s "one moment in time" that convinced me i’m a winner in my own right.  when i got a heartbreak and vowed not to fall prey to the trappings of love, it was jaya’s "i still believe in love" that eased my pain and opened a wider perspective on love for me.

movies. watching films allows me to forget harsh realities.  the very reason why i go for light movies is because i want to escape reality for a while and get lifted and inspired.  movies like "notting hill" and "shakespeare in love" leave a mark in my heart and make me believe in love.

don’t get me wrong, people.  i’m not against love or relationship and i haven’t given up on it.  the way i see it, a relationship is a commitment.  it’s not just having someone beside you so you could feel good about yourself.  it’s not even close to having the grooviest person so one could display him/her publicly.  being in a relationship is about loving and caring for a special someone, walang gamitan, to boost one’s image.

readiness has a lot to do with it.  as of now, i’m flowing with the current.  if cupid won’t hit me for another year or won’t hit me at all, then probably that’s my calling.  if i ever fall in love at 60, then so be it.  anyway, there’s no law mandating people to get into a relationship at a specific time frame.

maybe cupid closed his eyes when he tried to strike me with his arrow, hitting the person beside me.  well, lucky me, i survive being loveless in a society where what matters most is how often you change your partner and at what pace you do it.  but in some cases, it’s good to take phil collin’s song by heart, "you just can’t hurry love."

a korean friend once told me that i have such an unusually small mouth for my face.  i don’t know if she meant it as a compliment or an insult, but i have a strong suspicion that it’s the latter.  looking back, i swear she gave a sardonic laughter after she said it, but then again i could be imagining this.  anyway, after she told me this, i took a moment to study myself in the mirror–a habit i can shamelessly say i’ve acquired since God knows when–and confirmed that indeed i have very thin lips.  this doesn’t bother me though because i know that even if i had mick jagger’s or steve tyler’s famous pout, my life wouldn’t change a bit.

a famous person once said, "the pen is mightier than the sword."  well, in my case, my mouth–as small as it is–has been my greatest weapon.  i would have been an easy target for bullies in elementary and high school, but because i knew how to talk my way out to almost any situation, thankfully  i avoided being the punching bag of these horrible entities.  sometimes i get amazed at the capacity of my mouth: there are times when i am convinced that it has a brain of its own.  it can lash out bad words as easily as it can sweet talk.

albeit, i can consider my mouth an asset, there were also times when it got me into trouble.  in high school, i slighted somebody i barely know because my mouth was too quick in describing the new transferee to our school as someone "who doesn’t look smart."  obviously, i said this without thinking, and many thought i was being unfair.   having realized my blunder, i risked being beaten black and blue by apologizing to the person.  i wonder how i did it, but what i said to him must have been impressive because despite the fact that i lashed out on him behind his back, he still voted for me in the student organization elections.  in another instance and this just happened recently, i unknowingly humiliated a colleague and friend by something i said.  worst part is, i didn’t know anything about it until our mutual friend told me about it.  sometimes, i beat kris aquino in being tactless.  kris seemed to have mellowed a lot, a feat i wish to emulate.

you see, my relatively small mouth doesn’t need to pucker up a lot to make it look like it has an attitude.  to paraphrase a line from the movie, spiderman, my mouth is my blessing and my curse.

if there are two events that i dread attending, they will be funerals and weddings.  i hate going to funerals because of the intensity of the drama there, and the lachrymal showdown has never been my thing.  i hate weddings for an entirely different reason.  i can’t fully explain it, but when i attend a wedding, it never fails to give me a post-ceremony depression.  perhaps, weddings make me envious.  or maybe i’m just so cynical about the whole love thing.  anyway, years ago, i vowed never to attend weddings, but year after year after year, i get invited to be a groom’s man, a role which i am fated to play the rest of my life, or i’d get to be the commentator, a role which i have almost perfected and one that i could play to the hilt.

last saturday, i attended the wedding of my dear cousin slash best friend, liezl.  i had thoughts of boycotting the wedding because i knew for a fact that after her wedding, our relationship would never be the same again.  we would be very busy catching up with our adult lives that we wouldn’t have enough time to just sit down, talk, and laugh at the silly situations life throws at us.  but i figured her wedding was one of her big days, so what the heck, i decided to indulge her.  i even went the extra mile by accepting to be the commentator.

while i was watching her walk down the aisle, i felt a chill down my spine.  it was an indescribable feeling.  part of me wanted to shout (in a really theatrical way), "itigil ang kasal!"  but when i saw my cousin’s beautiful face (i swear, i haven’t seen her more beautiful), when i sensed the serenity and happiness that she felt, i knew that the only thing i could do was to be happy for her. 

losing liezl to marriage is somewhat unexpected.  this is a crazy thing to say, but in our family, the two of us were seemingly predisposed to single life.  we had somewhat accepted our fate that a few years ago, we made a promise–no, a pact that should neither one of us get married, we’d set up a house together, so when we’d retire, we’d have a house where we could have afternoon tea and cake.  we didn’t close the possibility that one of us would get married though.  so we extended our pact with a clause that should either one of us get married, the married party shall reserve a room in his/her house for the single one.  at this point it is clear who is who.

although i felt a bit abandoned by liezl’s decision to get hitched, i am genuinely happy that she has found somebody to grow old with.  guess, i just have to quote ally mcbeal when she said, "when i see two persons in love, they remind me that love still works."