12 Things About You

1. You have a trail of moles behind your nape that I simply adore. I can trace my fingers on it for hours and I’d still find it fascinating.
2. You smell nice. You smell clean and neat and fresh and I love how your scent fills the car after you jump right in.
3. You have the best biceps I’ve ever seen up close.
4. Your mouth makes the perfect “O” shape when you puff smoke.
5. You fidget when you sleep. Your body twitches every now & then; maybe because you’re dreaming of basketball.
6. You’re so cute when you turn up the volume and sing along to Lenny Kravitz. Or any other song for that matter.
7. You bang my car door, which would usually piss me off, but with you, I always make an exception.
8. You used to count the seconds I was away. Do you even remember that?
9. You always don’t know what to say but you have a knack for getting rid of my IQ points with just one look.
10. You scare me because you make me feel that this could be as good as it gets, and that sucks.
11. You make it seem so easy to walk in & out of my life.
12. If you only had the tiniest bit of knowledge of the lengths I’d go through for you, how I would cross heaven & hell for you, how the only way I could hurt you is by hugging you too tight – then you wouldn’t need anyone else but me.

 

 

12 Things About Me:

 

1. I like wasting my gas on you. P55 a pop but I don’t mind.
2. I like it when you call me baby. Somehow it makes everything seem better.
3. I can tell when you’re lying; sad to say but it’s one thing you do quite often.
4. I always melt & get weak on the knees when you hug me from behind and you nuzzle at the back of my ear. Always.
5. I will always hate Boracay because of you.
6. I can’t bring myself to hate you, even after what you did; I’m not even remotely mad. Although I like to pretend that I am. I guess it’s easier that way.
7. I’m not sure if it’s possible to let you go. Been trying to do so for the past couple of years and yet I’m still here.
8. I still count the seconds you’re away.
9. I wanted to make you see that it was me whom you needed. I wanted so much to be the one who made you happy.
10. I miss you beyond comprehension. I miss you so much, it hurts.
11. Just seeing your “In a Relationship” status is enough to make my innards hurl. Seeing you with her is another thing; it’s like having broken ribs, you can’t see that they’re fractured, but in reality every breath hurts.
12. Even after all is said and done, all the crappy things that happened in between; I’ve never wanted anyone this bad for this long.

 

Ze Wedding of Ze Year

Happy couples make me squirm, but just because I’m bitter, doesn’t mean that I can’t be happy for my best friend. I was asked to deliver a speech and I purposely made it as void of emotion as possible because I didn’t want to ruin Je’s mascara, but this is what I would’ve wanted to say instead of the lame-o speech I delivered:

“Je and I have known each other for seven years but we have only been friends for six. Now you ask, why only six years? Because she & I hated each other’s guts during freshman year. She thought I was a complete bitch and needless to say, the feeling was mutual. God knows how much I wanted to pull those butterfly clips from her hair. It’s funny how things turned out; now I can’t imagine having gone through adolescence without her.

Je & I always had a blast and when she left for Vegas, I temporarily forgot how to have fun. I’ve to admit, a part of me didn’t want her to succeed abroad so she would have no choice but to go back home. Yes, I’m a selfish person, sue me. Though I never discouraged her decisions back then because at the back of my head I thought she could always take the next flight back to Manila, just like how you’d flag down a cab. But at this point, I guess it’s safe to say that there isn’t really any turning back because here you are getting hitched.

The first time you broke the news to me, I immediately thought that this is another one of your impulse whims & that you’d get over the itch in a couple of months. Years passed and yet you have done nothing more than reaffirm your commitment to Jose. I probably share the same sentiment with your mom & dad because right now I’m feeling bittersweet. There’s a part of me who’s overjoyed because my best friend has found the best man to complete her fairytale story, and still there’s this fraction in me who feels dim at the idea that my sister is now officially one half of a whole. I always thought you were the twin God was supposed to send and somehow you getting married changes things. Just like how your mom & dad wishes that you’d be their little girl forever, how I wish we could all be nineteen all over again, drinking booze during exam week & puking our brains out all over the parking lot.

Things did change big time. The Je I’m seeing right now is far from the person I used to hang out with everyday. She is more refined, more mahinhin, and better in all aspects. I guess we have Jose to thank for this, so Jose, thanks for taming out wild child hehehe. (This is where you were supposed to laugh, people!!)

I remember during our Theology class, we had an exam to determine what we were most likely to be when we grow up. Je & I were considered as “most likely NOT to get married”. It still cracks me up to this day because we both said “Sino ba naman gusto magpatali?” Our plan was to break as many hearts as possible and rule the world until our biological clock kicks in; then we’d seek a sperm donor to impregnate us. Never did we imagine that one of us would be walking down the aisle.

Well, it just goes to show how unpredictable destiny can be.

Je, I still don’t have a gift for you because I have no idea what to give. All I can say is how thankful I am for having been blessed with a friend like you, Imah, and Mon, you guys are my backbone. Now that you’re married, I pray that Jose can be the backbone that you essentially need. I pray that you be insanely happy together. And I pray that you found everything you ever wanted & needed in him. Derive strength from each other, never stop saying I love you, and keep on proving to our Theology professor how wrong she is. Mabuhay mga adik!”

Haay..

Dammit!

Seriously, I need to let you go. Can you please stop being perfect because this isn’t healthy anymore. The sleepless nights are wreaking havoc on my pores, so I’d rather you be a downright prick towards me. Oh that’s right, it didn’t work because you have been a prick to me countless times before and yet here I am, still dismally enamored.

Don’t be a selfish sonofagun and let me move on already, ok?

Emo Blab

He is my favorite mistake. A dilemma I wouldn’t mind having over and over again. It seems as though that is the case, because I have been infatuated with this one person for the longest time, and it still puzzles me how it refuses to rot away into the confines of my forgetful head. I have been hopelessly head over heels with this guy all throughout my college days and the succeeding years after. I’ll never get over him and I’m resigned that we will never be back to being just friends. Even after if he migrated to another planet, the intensity is still there, and no matter how many times people tell me he’s going to break my heart or how many times he does – I still let him in.

There is probably a very good reason why he and I can’t be together.

One day, it will all make sense in the grand scheme of things. One day, I will finally understand why there is always a hindrance between us. But right now, I will just have to settle with the fact that there is literally two oceans between us and that there is someone else waiting for him; someone who actually lives in the same continent as he does. It’s quite possible that he is the only man that I cannot have for reasons beyond us both.  God doesn’t make impossibilities all that often.  There’s probably only this one in my life…and I went and fell for him.

 

But for what it’s worth, I wanted that someone to be you too.

 

I wanted so much to be the one who made you happy.

Conversations with the Universe

The Universe:    Oh, it’s you again. What do you want this time?

Pau:       Just help me understand why he & I can’t be together? I mean, here I find a guy whom I think the world of and there’s this huge probability that he thinks the world of me too, but every time we get around to the part when we’re about to fall ridiculously hard, you come up with something to spoil it! What gives??

The Universe:    What part of “you’re not meant to be” don’t you understand?

Pau:       Everything.

Okay, can you at least give me one good reason why?

 

 

The Universe:    Because he lives 74,032 miles away, in a place where it snows ten months a year, plus he has a girlfriend with perfect bone structure & stunningly good looks. So that’s 74,033 reasons already; raise it to the power of the nth degree multiplied by infinity. That’s why you aren’t meant to be.

 

 

Pau:       But he said he had feelings for me too. And if only the situation were different, we would’ve made each other insanely happy. Can’t you remedy the situation; make him stay in the Philippines instead? And can’t you give me perfect bone structure & stunningly good looks too? It kills me just thinking about what might have been.

 

 

The Universe:    Don’t believe everything he says, he is after all, just a man. Look, from where I’m standing, you have to take it as it is: a series of flings that went awry. It’s only good while it lasts, and they don’t last.

 

 

Pau:       But I think I may be falling for him, as much as I try not to.

 

 

The Universe:    Sweetie, he’s a two-timing, lying prick who doesn’t see your worth & will only take you for granted just like what he did for the past six years so go look for someone else it’s inevitable that one will fall for the other, but that doesn’t mean both at the same time. Eventually, one of two things will happen. Either he realizes that you’re worth it, or you realize that he isn’t. But in the end, it’s bound to fail. Why do you think your car gets scratched every time you two go out? That’s a sign.

 

 

Pau:       Dammit! I’m sick of your miniscule logic & preposterous concept of destiny! Make him stay here or else imma go Big Bang on your ass!

 

 

The Universe:    How dare you talk to me that way, you filthy tub of lard! I shall smite thee with my ultramagneticelectronicbeam harakiri thingy and you will be cursed with bad skin, a sucky love life, and you’ll be allergic to chocolates FOREVER!!

 

 

And that’s the story why everything in my life is so screwed up right now. I earned the ire of the Universe which is why I am broke (my Globe is cut & my credit cards are way up in the stratosphere), about to be a bum, soon to be evicted from my parent’s house, sick with kidney stones, and in pain both literally & figuratively.

Of Floods and Men

The most ironic thing happened to me today. I’ve spent four years in UST, a legendary place known for waist deep floods brought about by the slightest drizzle and the constant peeing of  hooligans on the streets, and I’ve never – as in never – had the unfortunate chance of actually bracing one myself. UST is infamous for its floods, not only because of its consistent occurrence, but because of the variety of floating objects one might come across. Let’s see, there’s your usual trash like water bottles, sanitary pads, plastic wrappers and whatnots; then there’s the more exotic type like feline cadavers and human body parts reeking of formalin, courtesy of your handy dandy Medicine Department. Why, it’s enough to earn itself its own category in Fear Factor: dive into the murky waters of Dapitan and win $50,000!

 

I don’t know if it’s just pure dumb luck or is it my uncanny sense of the weather, but every time it floods in UST, I always find myself somewhere else – comfortably watching on TV the stranded coeds wading through the bacteria and phlegm infested streets of España (or Venice if you want to be sosi, minus the Italian accent and the gondolas). My friend pointed out that sooner or later, my luck will run out, and when it does, I’ll find myself stranded in that god forsaken place, wading through tumultuous currents of grime, cursing under my breath and wishing I had studied in La Salle instead, and being the mascot for TV Patrol’s coverage of said natural catastrophe. Well, needless to say I’ve yet to submerge myself in the trench that is dubbed as A.H. Lacson and in doing so, I’ve managed to brag to all my friends that I escaped the stigma that haunts every hormonally challenged Thomasian. So imagine my surprise and horror when after almost three years of graduating from that institution, I found my feet immersed in around five inch deep flood water, in the middle of no less than the country’s financial district.

 

“OMG! These are new Schu shoes!” (I love saying that). Being the purveyor of all wordly and shiny things, I would rather risk acquiring leptospirosis by crossing the muddy waters of Makati on barefoot than actually ruining my very pretty stilettos. So that’s how I spent my Thursday afternoon, inside my car dousing alcohol on my feet while waiting for the torrent to subside. Yup, my luck had finally run out, so if in case you saw a crazy looking lady that has great potential to star in a Stresstabs commercial wading in rainwater while holding a laptop bag on her left hand and a pair of intricately delicate three-inch heels on the right, that would be me.

The Best Damn Coffee Ever

We were supposed to meet up for coffee. Just to catch up on things, no pressure, no worries – just plain friends doing what normal, friendly people do.

It was kind of awkward at first, we did this half-beso, half-hug greeting. We exchanged pleasantries, talked about mundane things like work, the beach, his far-fetched dreams of having his own resort; He’s going to La Union to check out the surfing scene and the possibility of investing.

He kept getting tongue-tied which I find endearing; he would stop mid-speech, scratch his head and just flash a knowing smile at me. I knew he wanted to talk about us, but then again there is no us so there’s nothing to talk about. I tried to be as platonic as possible. But during the middle of dinner, he started playing with my fingertips, just like he used to. I tried to remove my hand but he caught it.

We both fell silent. We were just looking intently at each other; he was trying to read me like an open book, and I was trying to memorize each line & crevice on his face. I like staring into his eyes; there is a certain depth & fervor, and I wouldn’t mind getting lost in its infinity.

And then he inched in closer and nuzzled my ear. He still knew where my weakness is. He made fun of the way he’s giving me goose bumps and lightly traced his finger on my skin. Then he rested his forehead on my cheek. I didn’t realize up until now that it was possible to ache for someone this much.

 “Would you mind if I just held on to you like this?” And then he wrapped his arm around my waist and pretended to fall asleep on my shoulder. I could feel his breath at the back of my nape; it was the best feeling I’ve had in such a long time.

And just like that, my defenses crumbled like a tower of Uno Stacko. I let him have me again. Yes, I didn’t even put up a fight. I’m a moron, I know.

Coffee is never innocent, I tell you.

Coffee will break your heart.

Coffee is evil.

Coffee will make you do things you swore you’d never do again.

All the reasons and more why I love coffee. J

 

Bye Bob

I had been looking forward to going to this party mainly for two things, one is so I can get my mind off Canadian Boy and the recent dismal turn of events, and two, so I can see Bob yet again & give him the cold shoulder again when in reality I’ve been blabbing incessantly about him to my loyal audience, Zach & Galo.

The thing is, I don’t have anyone to go with, which is a big problem if you have inferiority complex like me. I didn’t really know anyone there, except for Bob who will probably be too busy canoodling with some girl to even notice me, and tut-tut who is actually a colleague of mine but is kinda aloof & suplado. I was still gauging if I should go to the damn party, mingle with the industry & hand out my resumes, and maybe swig enough tequila shots & finally muster the courage to tell Bob “I cras you”. Or, I could just go home & write another blog entry, just like what I’m doing right now.

Anyway, the day started just like any other day, boring & sordid. Things were perking up come dinner time, The Monster and I headed to Powerplant for an impromptu rendezvous. I got Canadian Boy a Team Manila shirt as pasalubong. Yes, I realize it should be the other way around, but I can’t help it. I wanna shower him with gifts. J

Now The Monster and I have been friends for almost seven years and aside from sharing the same birth date, we have the same passion for gluttony, so naturally we indulged in our favorite sin. First, we had Yang Chow, fish, and spare ribs at Mongkok, then had the Owmigawd cheesecake with coffee at The Cake Club, and then finally had a huge nacho bucket at Gram’s Diner. During the course of our binging, we devised a plan so I can figure out if I should go to the party or just watch whatever was showing at the theatre: ask for a sign and leave it to divine intervention.

I texted both of them with a very specific question and whoever replies with the best answer shall be dubbed thee as Sir Mix-a-Lot. No wait, the reply should determine if I should drag my ass over to Jupiter Street or not. The first time my cell went beep, we were both giddy. Imagine my disappointment when it was just the teller from our bank sending a random joke. Which wasn’t funny. Must be a fluke or something, because we were never really in texting terms, the teller and I. Actually, this is the first time I got a text from her. Second time my cell goes off, it was another random text from an estranged friend, Shyla (yes, that’s her real name not a pseudonym). To get a message from her is so rare, maybe once or twice a year lang, and for her to text me at that night at the exact time we were holding our breaths with anticipation is just plain weird. Third text I got, we were still hopeful. Turns out it was my Good Boss asking how the party is; told her I’m still in Rockwell waiting for The Sign. Then she replies: “whatever happens, I would rather you go for tut-tut over Bob”. Yeah I know, everyone’s been saying the same thing. But the thing is, I have this tendency to gravitate towards jerks and Bob is the biggest one I can think of right now. Yes, another one of my idiosyncrasies. But he’s not that big of a jerk, really. I see potential in him.

Moving on, The Monster and I were getting restless (read: foaming at the mouth with anxiety), it was almost midnight & we were running out of people to gossip about and still no word from them. We were already walking towards my car when my cell suddenly lights up and lo & behold! I was so friggin’ excited, but it turned out to be just a message from another estranged friend, mukhang wrong send pa. Okay, now I’m annoyed.

WTF?! What is up with the cosmos tonight?? I get a series of out of the blue messages from people I have never heard of in ages. These are the last folks I would have ever expected to give me a holler; I swear it was too freaky to be a coincidence anymore so we just called it a night.

I was already in EDSA when I thought of texting the Good Boss that I had decided to go home instead when upon reaching for my mobile, it showed no signal. I pulled over to the side and restarted the damn thing with the hopes of catching some of them Sun Cellular rays pero it was futile. I tried sending a message and making a call but it kept saying Connection Error and No Network Detected. Fart.

The universe is playing a cruel, sick joke on me. For starters, I get a series of unexpected texts from totally random people who I never deal with at the exact same period I’ve been anticipating any progress from this jerk who doesn’t give me the time of day & treats me like crap. And then secondly, Sun Cellular suddenly just fluctuates and breaks down right at the most crucial of times. It would have been okay since I have a Globe too but it got cut today, just this afternoon. Of all the days, it had to be this day. This same day, the cosmos hatched a plan with them telecom networks to conspire against me.

I. Lost. All. Communication.

On the night that I was waiting for two uber important, highly essential, extremely needed texts, the universe decides to pick on me. What exactly are you doing up there, He-Man?? Don’t you have other, more important life altering events you have to attend to, like global warming or the Rick Astley concert?? Stop picking on my love life, it’s bad enough as it is!!

Right. Maybe the Masters of the Universe found my relentless pining comical & amusing. Okay, I’ll never really find out if Bob or Tut-Tut replied to my text because as of this moment, I still don’t have signal. Either way, it was just too obvious to ignore, the galaxy doesn’t want Bob for me too. Hence, he wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of shutting down them networks or having my line cut. The sign couldn’t get any clearer than this.

So now I’ve decided that I’m not going to cras Bob anymore. No more looking forward to weekly meetings, no more googly-eyes, no more worrying about his cholesterol level. I’m over it. Yup, from now on I shall see him in the same frequency and intensity as I see a fruit: plain, boring, and madami sa palengke so there’s no urge to covet. I’m closing down The Bob category. Well, not really closing down, more like moving on to more important things to write about such as ink cartridges and pencils.

Bye Bob. You missed out on a lot.

I Cras Him Sooooo Bad

Frodo and I were thinking of creative ways in which we’d like to expire since dying of skin cancer would be so… typical.

Moi: “Ooh. Since you like reading and shit, I bet you’d die due to multiple injuries caused by paper cuts.”

Frodo: “And since you keep on making a complete embarrassment of yourself, yours will be death by bitchslap.”

Yes, one of these days you’ll come across a tabloid headline screaming “Babae Natagpuang Patay Dahil sa Dami ng Sampal”. Don’t react with a quizzical look. It’s probably just the result of me doing something downright stupid like coming up with the lamest of conversation pieces, obsessing about every minute detail on why this certain jerk did not text back, and constantly stuttering & cringing all at the same time, because I know that even if all my friends smack me on the face with the hopes of me regaining my lost IQ points every time my Pathetic Mode goes on auto-pilot, it’s a lost cause because I always, as in always, say something unintelligent whenever he hovers around me. I am never going to regain my bravado and the jerk who keeps me awake at night has probably crossed me off his list & has most likely concluded that I am the most shallow & most superficial person he has ever met, and that my driving skills (or lack thereof) should be enough for the Supreme Court to file an RTO, and that I may possibly have the wit similar to that of a walnut, no – make that a pea.

My time is up. Six weeks have come & gone, and what started out as something hot fizzled into something lukewarm, and eventually ended up as my own universe’s ice age. What was supposed to be the grand finale, the fruits of all my labor, the icing on the cake, the cherry on top, turned out to be cul de sac. All that effort to look effing hot and I got neither a compliment nor a lewd stare; at least not from my crush. I don’t understand, every straight guy was eyeing me; even girls were checking me out, but it’s his reaction that matters and I just got zilch.

The Sensei:         But he was so busy the whole night, it was his event after all. He was frantic; he didn’t have time to observe/flirt/compliment/gaze at you.

Me:        Fuck that bull crap! We’re supposed to be making out in the common room by now! I curled my hair for him, shaved my legs, and had some professional ghey guy do my make-up. I. PUT. ON. MAKE. UP. Do you know how rare that is? Plus I bought these really gorgeous shoes that scream “hotness”, but did he notice? Did he even care? Ugh, I don’t think so. He was too busy talking to the mowdels, those German half-breeds who probably have never used discombobulated in a sentence. Ugh. Nagseselos ako.

 These are my very cute shoes that scream *hotness*.

 

I just don’t get it. I was all dolled up for the guy. Sayang, he didn’t even care. What’s worst is he didn’t reply to my text. I was up waiting for my cell to go beep-beep and now I feel like I’m such a pathetic dork, even Ugly Betty has better game than me. So there goes all my conniving & sinister plans, everything went kaput. And we’re not even friends, just… professional contacts. I don’t take rejection easily, it’s eating me up inside I swear. But the thing that bothers me the most is why he just stopped. The chemistry was there, the googly-eyes, the subtle touching – all the ingredients to concoct for My Boyfriend No. 3 – but then he just slammed on the brakes. Maybe I did something? Said something vile? But what?

Maybe it was my maniacal driving maneuversismsss?? He did say he got really scared a couple of times, i.e., when I almost hit a guy/car/post/pothole/pylon/balut vendor.

Wimp. 

But eetz okai.

Really.

It’s his los.

Bollocks. 

I am such a *bad* lier.

This is how I really feel:

Canadian Boy Has a Girlfriend Already

“Can you hear that?

Move closer. “

 

“I can’t hear anything Doc.” I feebly said.

 

“Can you hear it now? “

 

“Nope. Nothing. What am I supposed to hear, doc?” again, I struggled to let the words escape from my mouth.

 

“Inch in a wee bit closer…”

 

“Nothing still?”

 

“Pauline, If you can’t hear anything, then all my fears have been confirmed. My diagnosis tells me that you have Acute Aorta Lethargic Psychosis.”

 

“Wh-? Doc, in English please.”

 

“I’m afraid to tell you, but your heart is dead.

 

In place of what used to be a pumping heart that goes “thud-thud”, is now a dead stump of emptiness and disheveled lies. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing else here. The upper and lower ventricles have probably been clogged with bitterness and superficial excuses for the longest time, and the aorta must’ve been lost in the abyss of pathetic misery. No amount of electro-shock therapy can resuscitate this heart, although you can try bombarding it with dismal consolations from its concerned friends and relatives. The years of abuse and neglect have finally taken its toll. And its multiple fractures have worsened its condition, ultimately causing it to bleed to its untimely demise.

 

I’m so sorry Pauline. We did all we can to save it. Now, will please sign these papers so we can process its funeral. Would you prefer a cremation, or just the ordinary bury-the-dead-under-six-feet-of-dirt thingy?”

 

“Uh- I want the ordinary thingy, Doc. My heart’s probably too congested with fat, it might blow up the whole crematorium.”

 

“Ok. Write your name above the dotted lines. And sign on the x. And oh – what do you want to put on your heart’s epitaph?”

 

 

“Here lies Pau’s heart: mangled beyond repair by the one person she gave it to.”