we. are. so. back. together.
L's month-long "leave" is over. And we've learned some stuff from the time off:
1. We eat too much when we we're together.
2. We eat too much KFC when we're together (from now on, we'll trade the mashed potato for salad).
3. He doesn't eat congee. I love congee, especially good streetside isaw-goto variety.
4. He thinks I'm high-maintenance. I think he's too simple.
5. We have very very very little in common.
6. He's irked with my tops that are cut low on the chest—which practically make up my wardrobe because I barely have a neck. (L: "Wala ka bang T-shirt na normal?"
Me: "Wala, kase wala akong leeg.")
7. I hate it when he wears all black. Mukha shang GOON.
8. He likes the smell of baby powder on me more than any perfume except for Hugo Boss Deep Red.
9. "Click" is the ONLY film we both like.
10. We think Adam Sandler is hot.
11. He's homophobic.
12. We have big fights over the phone, but not in person.
13. We can play deadma (no text, calls, chat) for only one week max.
14. He's a morning person. I am sooo not; I am not even a daytime person.
15. He's surprised to find out that I'm sweet. Dude, I am, too.
16. He's a certified home buddy. I can't stand being homebound for more than two days straight, although I've been going out noticeably less now. (L: "Harangan man ng sibat, umulan man o umaraw, may riot man o rally, gigimik ka pa rin.")
17. I'm a blogger, he's a gamer.
18. I'm annoyed when he snores. He's annoyed when I say "annoying."
19. He's not my type (older, tall, outgoing, academic). I'm not his type (younger, petite, long-straight-haired, simple)
20. We love each other much more than we thought.
God, I am so cheesy.
The "leave" was confusing, to say the least. I was clueless. We stopped talking, then we'd start talking again. But when we talked, we argued. When we're not arguing, we're exceptionally, incredibly sweet ("Kala ko ba cool-off tayo? Ba't di halata?).
He still gave me a mean, soothing foot massage; I still sprinkle his back with baby powder. Ang labo.
Then there were the fights. Brawls. As in kung pwede kameng mag-WRESTLING, siguro ginawa na namin. Tutal pareho naman kameng malaki.
The good thing about these quarrels is they only happen over the phone, and we usually manage to patch things up before we hang up. Although there was a particular instance when I was fuming mad and he was in rage, too. I was crying in hysterics and told him face-flat in my most dramatic Koreanovela overdub to:
"JUST GIVE UP! I don't want any of these anymore. Ayoko na."
He said: "Hindi lahat ng tao katulad ni *****. Kung ganon, walang mangyayari sa mundo. Alam kong fall guy mo lang ako non, alam ko yung pinasok ko. But I stayed because I love you. Hindi lahat ng lalaki, iiwan ka na lang basta basta."
Gosh, wala akong nasabi. Papalag pa sana ko eh.
There's still a tinge of pain in both of us, a sad offshoot of my past. We don't know if we'd even last a year but we are SURVIVING. As long as we're still giddy whenever we see each other, we're cool.
What makes me happy is not the way he's remarkably patient with me; not the way he mastered the counter-tantrums; not the gifts he gave me; not the way he protects my cleavage from onlookers; not the hold-ups I get especially when I'm in his favorite li'l red skirt; not because he wakes me up so I won't be late for work again; not because he picks out and gives me all the chorizo in yang-chow rice; not because he fixes my PC; not because he carries my bulky, heavy, and fully loaded badminton bag na pwede ng survival kit sa gera; not because he rushes work EVERY Thursday to be with me; not the charming way he calls me his "Kitten."
I am most happy whenever I make him smile, whenever I make him laugh like there's ABSOLUTELY nothing wrong in this world. There is delight in seeing a big man giggle and that's when I feel most special.
God, I am so cheesy, but hey, for someone who used to be used this is absofuckinglutely great.
Seven stuffed months and counting, baby. Meow meow. I love you. 
Break-in news: L just denied that the entire I'm Sorry Baby Project has nothing to do with his decision which confirmed the recent developments. But as of press time, this writer insists The Pizza has a great involvement with the issue. More updates to follow, stay tuned.
mad girl's love song
by sylvia plath
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade
Exit seraphim and Satan's men
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
***
Oh, Sylvia! I really wish you didn't put your head in that oven. But smart girls are usually stupid anyway. Sylvia is a nice name, I might name my would-be daughter Sylvia, Sylvia Andrea. Not that am crazy about kids, or ovens. Although I have a certain fondness of making things up inside my head. Really, I should have been a Kitten instead.
musicats
Listening stations in record bars are one of the best places to people watch in. And to be judgemental.
You could pretty much tell from there which ones are hardcore (headbangs to metal, rock, alternative); spill-off hippies (listens to remastered Beatles, Hendrix, Led Zep); "interesting" (sways to world, folk, ska); probable junkies (dazed with jazz and floaty with reggae); dance-floor dudes and divas (grooves to hip-hop, RnB, and, well, dance); and fun to chill out with (knows the difference between house, trip-hop, ambient and everything else in between). And there are those who listen to Cueshe I'd rather not categorize.
So, which cat are you?
HOUSE CAT—"thugs thugs thugs thugs thugs meowww."
Listens to: anything that involves DJs and turntables.
Last seen wearing: "party clothes" and a stack of glowsticks in both wrists at some warehouse party.
Reminds me of: overdressed high-school kids with inch-thick makeup who cheat their way into over-18 partheees.
FUNK CAT—Wickipedia says "the word 'funk' was once defined in dictionaries as body odor or the smell of sexual intercourse... African-American musicians originally applied 'funk' to music with a slow, mellow groove, then later with a hard-driving, insistent rhythm because of the word's association with sexual intercourse."
Listens to: African Music Machine, Cane and Abel, and other groups only they know about.
Last seen wearing: Funky clothes?
Reminds me of: no one in particular, but the "First Day Funk" deodorant jingle keeps playing in my head.
WORKOUT CAT—"8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1. And 1, 2, 3, 4... water break."
Listens to: anything upbeat. The faster, the better; definitely nothing slower than the threadmill.
Last seen wearing: spandex.
Reminds me of: Vina Morales.
HEAVY METAL CAT—"Darkness! Blood! Genocide! Oil spills! Let's all fucking die!"
Listens to: the noisiest, heaviest, angriest music most people won't even call music.
Last seen wearing: an all-black ensemble, chunky silver-and-black accessories, black eyeliner, black nail polish, and a mohawk.
Reminds me of: Karl Kaufman, hehe. Ikaw agad naisip ko.
STEVIE WONDER CAT—"We are the world, we are the children... "
Listens to: Stevie Wonder.
Last seen wearing: a suit, sunglasses, and dreadlocks.
Reminds me of: Stevie Wonder.
STONED ROCKER CAT—"Hindi lahat ng adik, pumapatay. Pero dude, mas sosyal talaga yung mga adik sa Embassy."
Listens to: Rage Against the Machine, A Perfect Circle, The Strokes. Any music to get high to.
Last seen wearing: ripped jeans and vintage shirt.
Reminds me of: Fred Durst and Cartman of South Park. I dunno, the cat looks like 'em to me.
HIP-HOP CAT—"Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah."
Listens to: Black Eyed Peas, Snoop Dog, J. Lo, and Jay-R.
Last seen wearing: oversized jersey and tons of bling-blings.
Reminds me of: Notorious B.I.G. Di ba kamukha nya yung pusa?
TECHNO CAT—"Waiter, pa-order naman ako ng porkchop." Ooops, mali.
Listens to: stuff too fast to be qualified as a videoke song.
Last seen wearing: nothing.
Reminds me of: Keith Flint of Prodigy in the "Firestarter" video. And Jeje of Giniling Festival.
And of course, there's the...
I-CAT—Those who have MP3 player earphones stuck on their ears 24/7. Masasagasaan na, hindi pa alam. Gumuguho na ang mundo, hindi pa rin naririnig.
bossing, bossing!
Ang funny funny ng text chuva promo sa "Eat Bulaga" nung Tuesday, as in humahagalpak ako sa kwarto mag-isa.
May contest dun na magte-text ung mga tao ng codes to win cash. Tas un guy na nanalo ng 30k plus, taga Bataan pa!
Tinawagan ni ni Vic Sotto and Anjo Yllana ung mamang nagngangalang "Race" bago mag-"Laban o Bawi."
They put the winner on-air at TAWA SHA TAWA, as in galak na galak sha.
Sabi ni Vic: "Race, magkano napanalunan mo?" Sinabi ng guy ung actual amount ng napanalunan nya, maski butal: "P30,618 po Bossing!"
Eh ang ingay-ingay ng background, so Vic asked: "Sino kasama mo dyan?"
Sabi ng mama: "Ung nanay ko, Bossing! At ung tatay ko, ung mga kapatid ko! Pati ung mga pinsan ko, Bossing!"
Tawa pa rin ng tawa ung guy. Sobrang happiness sha. Tas biglang sabi nya:
"BOSSING, BOSSING! KAMUSTA KA NAMAN!?"
Sabi ni Vic: "Ah, ok naman ako. Ikaw, musta? Buti napatawag ka?"
Close eh.
Natawa rin si Bossing and Anjo. Hilarious talaga. Kamusta naman un na sha pa ung nangamusta? Buti di nya tinanong kung jowa talaga ni Vic si Pia Guanio. Tapos thank you sha ng thank you kay Bossing pagkatapos.
Promise, i'll leave my job to write for "Eat Bulaga." I'm sure mas malake sweldo dun. Hehe.
By the way, hindi ko feel ang mga bagong EB Babes na pinalit nila sa Sex Bomb Dancers. In journalistic parlance—kulang sa "libog."