August Birthdays

On choices

Life is the Higher Being’s ultimate gift to all of us.  But what we do in our lives is entirely up to us. He did not make us good or bad by birth.  Nor did he prepare an instruction guide to tell us step by step what to do in our lives. What we are now is the upshot of the choices we made, big and small.

What you did this morning, how you treat your pet, your friends, the way you converse with other people, what you wear, the people you admire or hate, what you think—all of these define who you are. All of these are the choices you make on your own.

But that’s how life goes and it has a funny way of teaching us a lesson.   When you make a bad choice, you learn. Yes, it can be painful and it might scar you, but it will make you stronger, if not a better person.

Go figure.

Do you know how it feels to be out one night, drinking without limit, never really caring if you can still walk your way home?  It’s Friday and no one really cares if you piss on your pants or puke on your shirt because you’re too wasted. You have the weekend to nurse your hangover, right?

Then your phone rings. It’s your boss.

He says you have to cover an event tomorrow at 6am sharp. The one who is supposed to do it died (that’s what you heard!).Fuck, says you in your mind. But he is the boss and you are basically his slave, so you say “sure, no problem”.

Then you start to regret that you went out tonight. Why, of all the days, did you decide to party hard tonight? Life would have been easier if only you stayed at home watching  the telly.  

Oh shit! How are you going to get home now?

It’s too late for remorse dear. You are all wasted and drunk as hell. I bet you are thinking that this is your worst night ever. And tomorrow?

Well…tomorrow, you will wake up and have the worst hangover in your life.

So, congratulations. Job well done.

In Full Bloom

When you give her flowers, you can (at the very least) expect to see her smile. And you will never be disappointed.

Most men probably think that flowers are just a waste of money. They are cliché. They are expensive. They don’t do anything. You put them in a vase and they wilt in a few days.

But why do women love them (most especially if it is delivered as a surprise)?

I do not understand how receiving flowers can evoke such positive reactions among women.  It does not really matter if it is a single stem or a dozen of them.  Every time a woman receives flowers, I’m pretty sure she is flattered, if not ecstatic.  Maybe it’s the flowers themselves. They smell good and they are so pretty!  Or maybe not. Maybe it’s the thought behind receiving them.

I don’t know the magic behind those flowers, but they sure makes a woman feel that she is loved and that she is beautiful.

PS. Thank you for the flowers, Roma. I love them soooo much! :-) 

Ameer Raffael

You are so adorable! I love you to bits!

Finding Romeo

Fairy tales! Who didn’t grow up reading stories of Snow White, Cinderella, Belle, and Ariel? When I was young, my mom reads them to me all the time. Each story ending in “happily ever after” made me hopeful that one day I will find my own prince… the one who will sweep me off my feet , ready to give me the world.

But NO, I didn’t find him. There were a couple of frogs but there was no prince… not even a knight. 

You know who I found? This guy.

People around us were not very optimistic about this relationship. We’re too different they say. He is such a geek. He is too simple, which is one thing I will never be. He loves the outdoors and I love malls above all places. Our food choices do not match. He is a healthy eater, I don’t even eat vegetables.  Oh yeah. We don’t have much in common.

But it’s been a year. And so far, I have nothing to complain.

He is hands down the most intellectual person I know. Even his random snippets of wisdom leave me awe-inspired every time. He is very patient and understanding.  He is such a sweet soul. Sometimes, I have to check if my teeth are falling off because of too much cavities. He’s very spontaneous.  He never ran out of ideas on where to go and what to do. I really enjoy each conversation, no matter how silly. He makes sure I’m always happy. And I am. Full-stop.

Okay, tama ng pambobola, lumalaki na ulo ni Roma.

This is just the beginning of the rest of our lives together.  Are you ready babe?

(No) Father’s Day

I spent the day trying to keep myself busy. All I want is for this day to just come and go like any ordinary day. But no matter how hard I try, I still can’t shrug off the uneasiness and the anxiety I feel.  Today is Father’s Day. For most people, this day is to honor their fathers and celebrate paternal bonds.  In my case, this day is like a slap in the face, painfully reminding me that I never had one.  

When people ask the whereabouts of my father, I feel awfully defenseless. I used to pity myself because I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t have the slightest idea where he is. I didn’t know the story. My mom didn’t tell me about him. And I never had the courage to ask her. 

 As a kid, I made up what I thought my father looked like just to make it easy for me to imagine him in my little daydreams. There were times when I imagined him coming back to us and staying to live with us. Sometimes, I imagined a confrontation between us which will end up in reconciliation. It was silly and pathetic because those never happened in real life.

When my mom finally told me about it, I was surprised. All along my father was disguising as the godfather I meet once or twice a year.   I felt cheated and manipulated.   I was angry. More than the deception, I was mad at my father because the thought of the three of us living together as a family became impossible. Why? Because he already has his own family.  And one can never have two.

It broke my heart.

But cliché as it may sounds, time heals all wounds. As I grow old, I get used to the idea that I can never be with my father. Whatever loathing I felt towards my father is gone. The wound is still there but it doesn’t hurt (that much) anymore.   

Most days, the memories are distant. It seems that everything has been forgotten. But this day… this is one of those days where I lapse.  I used to hate every time I feel this way. But now, I am embracing it with arms wide open.  I don’t care how painful and bitter are the memories for these are the only things I have now. Wherever he is, I wish him and his family well.  

Are you thinking of me too right now, Papa?

Until we meet again.   

*posted a day late

Cheers to My New Baby!

A man is never satisfied.

True enough, even though I already have numerous online accounts, I still signed up for i.ph. Why? I have no idea. It’s not as if facebook, twitter, and multiply are not enough! I just want is to chronicle very bits of my oh-lala life ala Olsen twins.  I just hope I will be able to keep this up despite the million things I have to do.  

Here is a little trivia about the blog title. Full monty is a British phrase dating back to the 1980’s that means “the whole thing,” or “completely nude”.  *Side note: I love trivia, so I’ll be dropping one or two every now and then. Seriously!*

This blog will be everything about what I like and I don’t, what I do, where I go,  who I love or loath, my fears, my advocacies, and my dreams. Bottom line: all about me.

Love me or hate me.