smooch!

I woke up later than I’m supposed to, I forgot I have to cook for the kids today and prepare everything they need for school because their mom is not around.  I guess it was an aftermath of the ‘fight’ I had with chingan last night—I remember telling larisse to wake up early and prepare everything because I was pissed off at chingan last night.  Sometimes, no matter how I love her, she still gets into my nerves!

It’s a good thing I got awakened after a very, VERY, very strange dream!  Gosh! Until now I still couldn’t fathom just how and why I dreamt of that! Of him! Of him that way!  What was I thinking?! It was really weird! Of all people, why him?  I certainly don’t like him—I mean, not that I despise him but he’s–it’s just that, I don’t really find him attractive—alright, I’m being nice—he’s not attractive, period.  And if I were to list the guys I’d love to kiss he wouldn’t even make it to my top 1000! It’s so unlikely! And besides, I hardly know this guy—he’s just somebody I happen to get acquainted with—he’s not even a friend.  He’s just someone I exchange ‘hellos’ with.  We don’t even talk TALK—I mean, except when I bump into him and he’d ask me if I’ve seen the game.  I don’t even see him everyday—and even when I do, it’s just like seeing the guards at the lobby, or the cab drivers who take me to work—I mean, we don’t interact at all!  So when I got up this morning I was like—‘what the hell was that dream about?!’ 

Alright—the scene was like this—he and I were in bed—literally, not figuratively!  We were talking, reading a sports magazine and he was teasing me, telling me that my fave basketball team is composed of lemons–we were talking about shots and rebounds and everything basketball and then I snatched the mag from him and he rolled over until we’re too close for comfort and then, voila!  One lingering stare and then, mwah! He gave me a smack and I was like, what was that?! And then—he kissed me again! longer! And then I got up the bed and we were like, ‘whew! where did that come from?!’ Then I woke up!

I honestly don’t know why I dreamt of him that way!  And now it’s weird because I felt awkward when I saw him this morning—I hope not to bump into him tonight or I’m dead!

It’s not really the first time that I’ve dreamt of kissing someone other than my boyfriend in my dreams!  I mean, I’ve kissed guys I’ve a crush on in my sleep! And sometimes I would even force myself to continue my aborted dream the next day! In my deepest slumber, I’ve kissed Sean a million times, I’ve kissed someone from my past work too, I’ve kissed my best guyfriend, I’ve kissed Oscar dela Hoya, I’ve kissed Shintaro Valdez! I’ve kissed Dermot Mulroney!  The thing is, I have dreamt of kissing those guys because I am/was attracted to them!

But this guy—it’s just puzzling why we smooched in my dream!

Perhaps, I had way too much coffee yesterday! I’ll stay away from caffeine today—but then again, the guy who makes coffee at the net café is someone I’d love to lock lips with in my sleep!    

age ceiling

There was an unwritten–though frequently spoken, rule in my dating book.  No man above 34.  Well, it used to be 30 but I’ve had an ex who’s 7 years my senior so I figured it would be unfair to nix the idea of having to go out with him again some time in the future just because by this time he’s already 34– so, up the ceiling went.

So, what’s with the age ceiling?  I dunno exactly—I’ve always dated guys older than I am.  The only other times I’ve gone out with guys my age or younger was back in college and in high school.  My present boyfriend is just a year older.  I’ve two exes who are my age.  The rest of the men I’ve dated were from 27-30. 

Don’t get me wrong—age for is me is nothing but a number—and then some.  Older guys are exciting but cautious.  Experienced but guarded.  Learned but silly at times.  In short, they are the perfect mix.  The fusion of age, experience and wisdom makes them hard to resist.  But under normal circumstances why would a lady my age, date someone who could pass as her father? So I told myself—my age ceiling for guys is 34, end of story.

Until, I met this fat-yes, I’d dare say his waistline is 38 up!-yet, very charming, incredibly sexy (it’s not a physical word—at least to me), hot (he is!) and intellectually challenging 38-year-old who made me rethink my age ceiling for ‘guys-I’d-love-to-date-if-only-I’m-still-available’.

This got me into thinking—why are most of the women my age (late twenties) rarely turn their nozzles on eligible late-thirty-something bachelors and limit themselves to struggling yuppies and twixters (twixters: full-grown men <and women> who still live with their parents, who dress and talk and party as they did in their teens, hopping from job to job and date to date, having fun but seemingly going nowhere)?

Why is being with an older man getting equated with being an opportunist?  Why are women my age who date men in their late thirties and possibly early forties being scorned? Is it really such a crime?

I’ve a friend who’s about to tie the knot with her 40-something bf.  No, he’s not exactly like my Mr. Big in the looks department, and yes, raise your eyebrows if you must, he’s moneyed—BUT, BUT, BUT! My friend is not marrying him for his fat pocket—she’s marrying him because she loves him—yes, she does!  And for good reasons!  One, because he takes good care of her, makes her feel secure.  Two, because he has taught her and molded her into a better person.  And three, because he loved her like nobody ever did. 

Yes, I’m the one writing this—and yes, I have to admit that at some point—well, at least early in their relationship, I used to have doubts too.  But through the years, I’ve seen how my friend has blossomed into a matured, confident and responsible adult that she is now—thanks to Mr. Forty-something.

Envious, I am! Too bad, I still can’t have Mr. Big. But I’m not complaining.  I’m with someone who’s just as hot, just as incredibly sexy, just as charming and oh-so-kind.  And the best part is, grey hair and all, he’s just a year older.    

once a fan, always a fan

i’ve stopped watching PBA games three (or was it four years?) ago–when the core of my fave team alaska got traded to coke.  but even before that i have already distanced myself from the games–i guess my interest waned as soon as my beloved sean retired in 2001. 

i remember how crazy i had been over basketball–the times when i gladly stayed behind during family outings just so i could watch the games on teevee, the countless sports magazines i collected through the years, the PBA annuals i bullied my ate carlyn to buy for me, the many times i shed tears each time alaska loses, the story i wrote for my dear sean, the visits to torre de salcedo (sean’s pad), the memorable conversations i had with him in person and over the phone (read:  he used to call!) and the friendship i still have with him right now (he’s in sacramento, coaching the lady scots of the highlands high basketball team while he’s busy playing dad to ‘livi’, his daughter –damn! could have been mine! hahaha!–and managing his uniform/garment business here).

from time to time, i still check out the sports pages and keep track of the team standings–i love tim cone and even if don’t root for his players anymore, alaska remains my sentimental favorite.  but i no longer watch the games as religiously as i used to in the late 90s, when jolas (he was my first love!), johnny (in my book, the best point guard the PBA has ever had), jeff (he could have made it real big had he stayed with alaska–but he’s making waves now that he’s back, so it’s okay!), bong, poch, kenneth (he came to the team after jeff left if i’m not mistaken) and of course, sean (the love of my life!) were still playing for the uytengsu franchise.

all the while i thought i’m over basketball for good.  for a time i ceased following the PBA–until new players caught my fancy (john arigo and brandon cablay–and yup, eugene tejada–if only for his tattooes!) but it just wasn’t the same anymore. 

last night, nanay and daddy (both rooting for purefoods) were watching the ballgame.  alaska vs. purefoods, the aces leading the series, 1-0 prior to the game.  alaska was leading when i caught a glimpse of the score but paul artadi (i used to fancy him during his ue warrior days!) scored basket after basket until they were able to tie the score.  i found myself watching intently–as though the fan in me has resurfaced.  i kept telling nanay and daddy that alaska’s going to lose because they always do when they’re leading early in the game!  but i was wrong!  jeff was his usual steady self and tony dela cruz (i used to watch him when he was still with shell ONLY because i find him handsome) was awesome–i didn’t get to watch the remaining minutes of the 4th quarter because i was busy with my korean boyfriend, ‘julian’ but i felt glad when i saw the final score–it was a 9-point win for the aces. alaska now leads the series, 2-0.   

i’m not sure i’m going to watch the pivotal game 3 on friday but what i know is, somehow my love for the aces has been rekindled. seeing them play as though they were the exact ‘96 grandslam team made me want to see them play in the finals.

well, i guess it’s true what they say–once a basketball fan, always a basketball fan!

status: married

casanova has really settled down and he’s proud of it.

and i’m damn proud that he’s finally admitted it to the world!

i wonder if he can still remember the bet we had some years back–you see, casanova has once labeled me a ‘commitment-phobic’ and i got even by branding him him a ‘gamophobic’–one who’s afraid of getting married. well, well, well…i guess we both lost! he beat me to the altar when he tied the knot on january 1st last year. i was in shock when he broke the news to me and he made my burden heavier because i was NOT to tell anyone!

but now–it’s out in the open! and i’m happy for him and his wife! add to that the bundle of joy they’re expecting.

it makes me smile knowing that even in the age and day of cynicism, love can still prevail. :) 

grateful, i am!

i’m working on a new project–an AVP for epilepsy. reading about epileptic children just broke my heart.  each tale left me feeling sorry that those precious kids have to go through the tough ordeal of battling pain and suffering so early in their lives…

but somehow, learning about their fate and having a glimpse of their day-to-day battle made me realize that just how lucky i am–how fortunate i had been…

i was born a preemie and it must have been tough.  i was placed in an incubator for weeks, i was told.  the only recollection of how fragile i had been when i was a kid was the weekly trips to the pedia with my lola.  my bouts with asthma from time to time–my not being able to play as much as i wanted to because i could get sick when i get too tired. but looking back, it wasn’t so bad…

and there was this notion about preemies being either mentally challenged or intellectually gifted–i guess i was lucky enough to be neither. the only downside it seems, is my eccentricity.

now that i’m an adult, i’d say i’m not exactly in the pink of health–what with my skin asthma and my usual allergies along with my tummy troubles but again, these conditions are bearable to say the least.   

i may not be gifted with beautiful skin but it’s okay–i can breeze through daily life without needing someone to watch over me and be wary of seizure.  i’ve gone through rounds of ultrasound for my erring tummy but i never have to undergo countless blood tests, EEG and CT scans. 

my diet is sinful by choice (pending harmful effects later in life)–no high-fat, low-carb restriction on me.  i can eat whatever i want.

i guess sometimes it really takes a peek at someone else’s misery to appreciate just how blessed we really are.

perplexed

it’s been like this for weeks now–i dunno know exactly what’s wrong, what’s going on…what i know is, i don’t seem to be as happy as i was before…

the fights are trivial…the issues too petty to ponder on…and yet i always have this nagging feeling inside me…

i honestly don’t know what i want, what i feel exactly–i’m clueless.   

when i’m with him, everything’s okay–everything’s fine.  i laugh hard, we laugh hard.  we enjoy ourselves.  we always have a great time together…

but when i’m alone, when he’s nowhere in sight–when he’s not by my side i feel strange…i used to miss him terribly when we’re not together but now it’s like seeing him has become just a routine–not something that i look forward to…

are we being estranged? have my feelings changed?

i wish i know the answers.

i hate this. 

troll :)

troll. the mere thought of him makes me smile.

first love dies. but…

i’ve never dreamed of him in ages–i mean, it’s been so long and i’ve gotten over him lightyears ago–seeing him in my deepest slumber is just absurd!

i wouldn’t have minded dreaming of him had my dream been about him and his wife and kid, or him and his (hopefully no longer) jobless state…that could have meant my subconscious was trying to peer on how he’s been doing lately…

but strangely, my dream had been a flashback to yesteryears…something that spoke of what i must have felt back in the days of bighaired me for what seemed to me like hours, i saw him and i talking on that very same bench in front of the SV tennis court (i wonder if it’s still there).  everything looked so vivid, each word so audible…same old lines were exchanged, same feelings reflected on my erstwhile youthful eyes…me beaming the widest as i felt his hand casually touching my arms…it was bliss!

from that scene to the next, my heart was racing, i could tell.  it’s in the way i looked at him, the way i smiled, the way i had my eyes locked upon his…

i could see him smiling at me.  flashing me that all-too-familiar boyish grin, his signature ‘unruffled hair’ glinting like stiff newly grown grass!

when i woke up i had the strangest feeling–my recollection of how everything had been between us has suddenly changed…my first taste of romance wasn’t exactly all heartache and pain…that dream made me realize that despite the tears i’ve shed, my first love has made me experience the bliss that came with loving. :) 

have u ever…

…felt like you’re causing someone’s misery because your happiness translates into a lifetime of sorrow for him?

…wished that love won’t ever fade?

…realized that the choices you made dealt someone a great deal of pain?

…thought of tearing yourself apart to a hundred million pieces just to appease somebody else’s pain?

…cried so hard that tears just went dry?

…reread old letters that transported you back in time and rekindled feelings long gone?

…sat down with someone and never heard him speak but his eyes gave away what you’ve always wanted to hear?

…felt drowning in a sea of conflicting emotions?

…laughed so loud without joy in your heart?

…felt the way i do now?

two cards and a cap

“a break up is like a broken mirror. sometimes it is better to leave it broken than hurt yourself trying to fix it. if you were able to fix it, don’t expect for it to work like before. the damage done will forever leave its mark unless you learn to see beyond the imperfections.”