MEComposing

I don't really know what to write...

there is this jubilation for an orgasm/sleep article because i wrote that when i was really inspired... hopefully you guys will read it at Subjective Mag come March...

there is this realization that I haven't bought anything yet for my beloved sis... but then again, having promised her new wardrobe before she leaves for the US, i guess she can forgive me...

there is that night of palpitations and stress, because my brother was being my brother, and i sometimes have to be honest that he inspires me to be a better person not because he's a good person, but because he seems to me so irreverently useless that i somehow have to make up for his continued presence in this world...

and then my colleague, my lunch-mate for almost 5 years now, and his worry over the possibility of cancer cells having metastasized on another part of his respiratory tract... and seeing fear again in his eyes as he tells me that he doesn't think he can see himself through another bout of treatment... both emotionally and financially...

and due to the cold nights, there's me always being horny, sometimes in mercilessly inappropriate times and conditions... and recurring memories of favorite sexual experiences haunt me, as if daring me to better them... or at least repeat them... but i haven't really time to engage in a sexfest that will make whores blush, since am very busy with so many other things...

like getting well... though am sick again

and school... realized i already love my kids... and i wonder why i kept syaing i always wanted to be a teacher when i realized that i've also often said that i'd never want to be a teacher... because my heart will be breaking for every year/sem that a group of students would be bidding me adieu...

i miss climbing mountains... i miss the sun in my face, and getting sweaty and weary... i miss jogging at the Boardwalk in Manila Bay, getting all those catcalls and whistles from the security guard... which often made me wonder if they'd watch my backpack for me so I won't have to be running with it... but never being one to use my feminine charms...

there's also the national government creating problems for my company, which has resulted to a panicky boss demanding different iterations with our financial plan, considering so many scenarios, etc... that i think if i die, she'd also commit suicide because nobody else can produce the statements she needs... or can reassure her that we used the correct assumptions...

i miss taking pictures of my body... am tempted to save for a nice hotel room just for a whole day photo session of my body parts... wearing different outfits, in different poses... time is kinda running out for me, and i better take great pictures of myself now for posterity...

besides, like what i say, i can explain to future kids and grandkids why their uber sensual LOLA has nudie pics at age 27...

but not why their LOLA has naughty pics of herself at age 50...

so really, better do it now while time hasn't yet completely taken over my hips... while my behind is still proud and my tits prouder...

(i really would have made the perfect courtesan, methinks, but that's another line of thought)

i've started exercising again at home... just stretches mostly because i've lately been too tired... i really intend to lose weight and jump back into size SMALL... not for any vain intent but for the sheer simplicity and convenience of buying new clothes without having to try them on...

i have yet to use my pink, fuzzy handcuffs by the way...

and try swallowing more (maybe, semen is really an acquired taste).. but the thought of that makes me shudder even as i type...

and stop praying that certain insipid little creatures in the form of really insecure adolescents would just drop dead...

this and other preoccupations result to an unexplainable mix of emotions... so right now, i can't even say if am happy or sad...

but it feels good to know am alive.

it's not your generous lips
not your penetrating gaze
never the smile that
lights up your eyes
nor the warmth of your embrace
that convinced me
i belong with you
i love you not for
the grand displays
of affection thought for me
planned, prepared for
exhaustively
that the public see
all the gifts,
and coming to my rescue
the care and nurturing
never the things that you do
but yes, indeed they count too

i love you not
for what you do
or how you make me feel
rather, i love you
because with you
i am ABLE to feel

gosh.. hopeless... the poem was beautiful when i first wrote it... in my head... last night... but i of course, forgot the lines and the thought... but i couldn't end the day without attempting...

Memories have a smell... those liminal moments months or years or decades ago, where, when you do think about them, you actually get to smell your surroundings again, remember the exact thoughts and feelings you were thinking and feeling then...

Ergo, i've often said... songs that have touched me have a smell... because they're one of the few things that are sure to propel me back in time... and make me long somewhat for who I was then...

And of course, make me smile at how far i've gone... and how much the world has changed... while some things have remained the same...

Somewhere In My Past by Julie Vega would always bring me to that night, when I was watching the late actress' funeral on TV. I must have been around 6 yrs. old then, too early to really be fanatic about something... but I cried for her.

Sad movies would always be a favorite... I remember back in college, I alone got the song perfect after a professor tested us on our listening and retaining abilities... My secret? Heck, i've been hearing the song sung to me by my favorite aunt all my life, whether she's telling me to keep off the floor she's polishing, or coaching me to eat what food she's prepared for me, or just stroking my hair to sleep.

And Eternal Flame by Bangles would always be the summer afternoons at the apartment complex where my aunt lived, with me standing on the stairs fronting the complex, looking around the neighborhood and just waiting for the day to end, before going in to eat dinner that my grandma cooked. It would always be summer vacations spent in Bacoor with them... of looking forward to the town fiesta and the Pailaw at the Plaza... of my then crush, a boy named Joey Villapania (?)...

I saw the Sign by Ace of Base would be one of the danc-y tunes my baby cousins would be dancing to, wowing me at how they're growing too fast too soon... and making me realize that I didn't much like vacationing there anymore...

Basta't Kasama Kita was my first slow dance... and a first step into the cruel and exciting world of boy-girl relationships...

I've been waiting for you and Crying in the Rain would always be the songs pasted on my wall... from a song mag, at age 13, when I started sleeping with our radio beside my pillow... being lulled to sleep by the canned music, my favorite always being Make it Easy (on me) by Sybil. It was also during this time when i'd first really fall in love... and when the melodramatic me would often imagine myself breaking up with my guy, and having that song for a break-up song... and yes, we met at the height of Humanap Ka Ng Panget, which is why I can't ever hate that song, no matter how jologs it seems to me now.

Prom Night would always be Please Forgive Me and not Got to Believe in Magic... and prom would always be the greatest crush of my life...

Never Say Goodbye by Bon Jovi is my theme song with my bestfriend back in high school. She was the one that said it's her theme song for me, and it kinda just stuck... so please don't ask explanations about any of us "losing more in some backseat". And saying goodbye to my high school friends and Paco Catholic School in general woud always be best reminded by For Just A Moment, that theme song from the movie St. Elmo's Fire.

Oh and by the way, I still know the steps to Ice, Ice Baby , THE dance song for me for highschool, though STARS comes a close second. And I still can't sit still when I hear How Gee (?), 2 Legit to Quit, Bring that Booty (over here), Rave Stump, Shine, X-TA-C, and other dance songs of that era. I'd forever miss Dr. Alban and would always adore Milli Vanilli songs.

Not that high school and college wasn't about Battle of the Bands and concerts too... I couldn't appreciate Eraserheads then but was already a fan of Side A. Set You Free was being performed on our grounds as I watched a friend cry because she knows it's about time she confronts her unfaithful and miserable boyfriend.

I Don't Wanna Talk About It would be the song my college friend Allee would be singing oh-so-finely to us for four years. It didn't really have any other significance aside from the fact that it's a very simple song... and we all loved its melody.

NGO volunteer work would be I Will Be Here, where I met Alvin, who will always be one Special Memory. He'd forever make me a fan of The Company after this... and when love deemed it right to separate us... we both realized how true it was that There's No Easy Way to Break Somebody's Heart.

Someone told me that " If Ever You're In My Arms Again, i'd love you much better..." but it wasn't meant to be... so i guess, just like that dreamy trip to Corregidor, That's The Way It Is...

And then I realized that I'd Rather have both good and bad times with JRA... and know that ours is an Everlasting Love...

There are a lot of other songs i've attached some memory to... old chants from old games and old songs we've modified for fun... songs which were just sooo popular at that time... or songs whose lyrics were just so reflective of how I was feeling...

And of course, i'd be forever Dancing Queen to a lot of friends, am sure...

A white car (sorry, i don't know the make) with two people in it was about to leave the car park. Driving it is a 30-something Fil-Chi guy, and beside him, a woman who was also in her 30's.

Suddenly, a red (or green?) CRV was hindering their exit, and an Arabian-looking guy, complete with dark olive skin and bushy beard, came out and started yelling at the driver of the white car.

"You jerk, give me back my wife. Laura, get off that car this very minute."

The couple in the white car was stunned... for who knew how many seconds.

Then the white-car driver recovered his senses and started shouting back.

"You fool. She doesn't love you anymore. I'm the one she loves and she's staying with me."

The lady in the passenger seat can now be seen trying to hide under her face with her handbag... but the men continued shouting expletives and claiming her. Death threats were even being exchanged now.

The white car-driver swerved and squeezed and maneuvered his car out of the carpark, where carpark attendants were left staring after them... stupefied.

The CRV followed suit... both cars driving away in a fury.

*~*

Laura, of course, is my widowed friend.

The man in the CRV is our friend Mark... and the man driving her away was Alvin.

Yes, we're all friends.

Yes, they were just playing with Laura.

Yes, it was perverted humor.

Yes, the men intend to forever role-play and embarass my friend in public.

Yes, Laura has vowed to not have lunch or dinner with them for months.

*~*

They actually just had lunch together. Mark said he'd bring Laura back to her office, and got worried when he lost Laura. He actually called Alvin and asked if he was with Laura, and asked Laura to leave Alvin and ride with him instead.

Listening to them talk about it... listening to Laura complain... and then thank heavens that it did not happen in a place where she's more known (lest colleagues or clients overhear and say to themselves... THAT CHICK, SHE'S SUCH A SL*T.. TSK TSK)... I still couldn't help but smile to myself...

And wonder at how great it is that our friends are rallying around her, taking care of her, supporting her, even babying her...

Of course, she's such a great person to command the attention...

But i love the love we share and the friendship that we have in this group that was mainly forged within an adult message board.

Alcos really protect their own... :) And yes, we do it in perverted ways... but the heart of the matter is... we love our own.

*~*

It's still actually funny for me, but since my friend recently lost her high school friend from that Sykes shooting... in seemingly the same scenario... I guess I can't ask people to share the same sick humor...

... the more insuferable she became.

*~*

Got this from an e-mail.

Gretchen Baretto has made it a habit to go to The Spa in RCBC Building, and would insist on boarding the elevator with only her four bodyguards.

One time, as all five of them were inside, an older lady also boarded the lift.

Gretchen told her bodyguard, "Bodyguard, will you please tell this old woman to step off the elevator?"

The 'old lady' replied, "Bodyguard, kindly tell this social climber to get out of my building..."

Turned out, the old lady was Yuchengco's daughter, and she's banned Gretch from the building.

*~*

And I seriously doubt that it isn't true... because this really beautiful actress has never been known to possess a beautiful heart.

I was updating my mountaineering blog when the blogger virus/glitch hit me again and made me lose my template as i was publishing. Good thing I'm not so busy at work, so I was able to look for the same template at Blogskins and pretty much recovered the look I wanted.

What's more, I started another blog... I've been real envious of photoblogs i've been checking out, because some pictures can really speak volumes and stand on their own... so... welcome Caught in my Eye....

I got the Eye eklat from Eye, of course... and I came up with the name because I do not hope to tantalize viewers with my photographic skills, but rather, share pictures of me and pictures taken by me which I feel are full of LIFE, LOVE and MIRTH.

If I ever shoot great pics like the ones in other photoblogs, so be it.

And yes, i'd still post pics here and on my mountaineering blog.

*~*

I'm sleepy but sinfully happy as i've been feeling lots better... hopefully, I can make it to the activities/gimmicks I have lined up for this weekend.

My favorite aunt was regalling JRA with stories of my childhood/babyhood... she couldn't help but laugh everytime she tells of how, even when I was bawling my heart out, i'd always stop when asked to sing, and then i'd pick up where I left my tears and start crying again...

And then she commented... that is why mothers (or parents) can never ever really get angry with their children, or turn their backs on them... because in their hearts, they'd always remember the childhood antics and baby cuteness of their children...

*~*

My Dad's fave story of me is that time we attended Mass in Antipolo Church. My Dad, carrying me in his arms, leaned over so I can dip my fingers in the Holy Water... and supposedly make the sign of the cross.

I did make the sign of the cross... only, I did it not to myself, but to the statue of the Blessed Virgin holding the shell of Holy Water.

Maybe I figured, her hands were full and she needed help.

*~*

My cousin's fave story is how, every morning when am in Bicol... my maternal grandma would walk the length of the seawall with me in her arms, to catch the early morning sun's rays...

One time, she fell off the seawall...

But I was unharmed... because she cradled me in her arms and landed on the rocks, with me lying on her chest.

*~*

Mom would also often tell me... how, after Mass in Paco Church, my Dad was hit by a car...

I was in his arms and the impact found me hurtling in the air...

To land on vegetables being sold along the sidewalk.

Yes, I was also unharmed.

*~*

It's also family legend already, that story when I was found under a buffet table... all red and filled with rashes... inebriated to the core and not even 3 years old... in one family gathering where someone didn't notice that he or she was giving me PUNCH and not JUICE...

And of course, how insanely mad my lola was...

*~*

As a token role reversal... I keep telling of how my bro and I once had a trash can between us at the foot of my parents' bed, as we were eating butong pakwan (watermelon seeds), and taking turns feeding a happily cooing Grace who was sitting on the bed.

She got too excited and fell head first into the trash can.

My bro and I were stunned for a minute before we scrambled to help our sister out of the trash can... but not before laughing at her first as we watched her wave her legs in the air...

Luckily, she laughed happily again on the bed. And we kept laughing and laughing and laughing about it.

And that's the only time I can remember being UNABLE to eat butong pakwan.

*~*

Got this from my friend Lorie. If you have time, please take this test...