To Be A Girl in a Patriarchial Society

I will survive the day without someone trying to...
Touch me.
Hit on me.
Or make inappropriate comments about me.
When it used to feel safer knowing male friends will attend a party,
Now I am more...
Alert.
On guard.
And ready to kick,
Prepared to diss man's every trick.
Whatever happened to platonic friendship?
Now I can't have tea without him asking for something to keep.
The world can't really expect me to form something deep
When all these monkeys are acting really cheap.

That Moment When I Made The First Move

I have always been the passive type of lover. As someone who never cared about anyone unless someone goes out of their way to spend time with me, feed me and my ego, and convince me that having them in my life is as normal as breathing, I usually just ignore everyone around me.

That's why it's hard for me to imagine that back in high school, I actually made the first move to let a guy I barely knew that I liked him. 

The event was brought about by one simple incident that happened a few days before. It was right after our ACP (Aerospace Cadet of the Philippines) class when one of the girls in my class made a joke as we stood near the school gate. Being the slow wit that I was, I only got the joke when everyone else left, and as I looked out the gate while finally getting the joke and a smile slowly spreading on my lips, I suddenly found myself looking at a guy from my batch who also smiled back at me.  Looking around me to check if there was anyone else, I was embarrassed to find that I was alone and that the guy from my batch probably thought I was hitting on him. But more than being embarrassed, I also found that I fell into some form of trance with his smile and that although I've seen him around and paid no attention to him before, suddenly I can't forget his smile. 

So much so that when our school held a recollection event for all the seniors in the batch and they asked us to give red ribboned candles for love, I acted on impulse and had my love candle delivered to him, never mind that we never had a class together nor spoke a word to each other in all our elementary and high school years in school. I didn't even think of what my friends or his friends will think, or what he himself will think or whether he has a girlfriend in our batch...I just wanted to give him something for his smile. 

Seeing You Again

Yesterday, for the first time since we met and since I have known you to be my neighbor, we crossed each other's path accidentally. I knew it was inevitable, with you living just a stone's throw away from where I live, and with both of us having just a 1-hour difference in our work schedules -you being speeded up by having your own vehicle and me being slowed down by public transportation and my tendency to buy groceries first before heading home.

Ever since we met, I had acquired the habit of always peering intently at the faces of motorcycle riders to see if it was you. Yesterday, it really was you. You were wearing your helmet, allowing me to just look at your eyes for identification. I had planned on what to do when I see you again -originally thinking of snubbing you or looking at you and then looking away pointedly and then later on thinking that my heart will probably be transparent anyway and that I'll most likely give you a sad smile in the incident that you cross my path and you are with your new love.

I did none of that. I looked up straight in your helmeted eyes and held your gaze for as long as I can, savouring the moment, drinking the presence of you all in, knowing that it was all I had and will probably ever have in a world where I have to rely on circumstance to see you again. I never saw your motorcycle to confirm if it was really you. I never had the chance as I was stunned to see you or the idea of you, asking myself if it was really you, unsure of myself, unsure of you. But what if it's not you, I asked myself. Yes of course, it is you, I chided myself. I'd know those eyes from anywhere even if they are quite sad. They mirror my own emotions.

Museum of Broken Relationships

I've long heard about the Museum of Broken Relationships. But today, I actually got to see it via this video I found on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ajplusenglish/videos/750086135132896/ The museum is a place to donate items that remind owners of their exes and each item comes with a story like the small dinosaur toy on which the caption read: "Remember how many skee balls we had to roll in order to win this?" 

Seeing the video inspired me to think of what my donations for the Museum of Broken Relationships would be:

• My red shirt                                                                                                                             

I wore this when I decided to travel 4 hours to surprise him on Valentine's Day. Afterwards, I refused to wash it because it smelled like his perfume and for a time, I always slept with the shirt next to me. 

• Movie Passes 

I scored passes and invited him to watch a movie with me for our 3rd date. Towards the end of the night, I tried giving him his pass to keep as a souvenir. He told me to just keep it. Maybe it was a sign I didn't see. 

• Loom Band 

This loom band was given to me by a friend who worked with me. But I will include this in memory of someone else -the boy I was in a relationship with at that time. We used to spend all our weekends together ever since we got together but there was 1 whole week when we didn't see each other 'cause I was so busy. Anyway, when we finally saw each other, he told me that in my absence, he had repaired my loom band which had gotten broken and which I left at his house. 

• Couple Photo Collage

Back when photo collage apps still don't exist and my Photoshop skills were very limited, I asked my best friend to create a collage of me and my guy's numerous photos and then printed it so I can give it to him as a Valentine's gift. 

This Thing Called Infatuation

When we first met, you were wearing one of your black shirts that you always wore the first few times we dated. I think they were your best shirts. They made you look thinner and hid your beer belly. I never saw any trace of them later on. Anyway, during that first date exactly a few years ago, I knew you liked me or what I represented to you at that first glance. I knew because you never complained about the bill even if I surprised you with a pretty expensive choice for that impromptu dinner date brought about by my sudden PMS craving for beef belly. Neither did I hear a peep from you when I picked an imported ice cream chocolate bar from the grocery and made you pay for it, too. I have been jobless for some time, thus penniless. I knew I got you coz when we were about to part, you were even humming a song.

When we first met I thought you looked fairly cute. Not bad, I told myself after my first glimpse of your face.

The second time we met, you were wearing an elegant black jacket sitting directly below the chandeliers at the lounge of the newly opened cinema in BGC. When you saw me, you flashed me a brilliant smile, so happy to see me, and I can't help but smile back coz you were so dashing and your smile so genuine. I started falling in love with the crinkles around your eyes which showed everytime you smile or laugh.

The first time I rode with you on your motorcycle, I buried my face in your back coz you were going too fast. You thought I was being sweet and sorta rubbed your stubbled chin on the back of my hand on your shoulder (which I thought was cute if not a bit odd)

I loved how your face would always light up with a smile by way of greeting whenever we met. The first few times, I smiled back, but I was back to my poker resting bitch face after that coz it's my most natural state.

Like your predecessors, I am once again in total bewilderment of how I can fall for you when you didn't seem to exhibit too much lovable traits. But for me, you were absolutely beautiful. All I have to do to forget all about your shortcomings is imagine the magical moment when I snuggled up hesitantly next to you to sleep, and you inched yourself all the way into my arms and as close as you can be before kissing me lightly on my forehead and falling asleep. I ache to be with you always, and when I was not with you, I imagine myself sending you kisses, hugs and an auric shield filled with love so that you may always wake up happy and in a good mood. At night, I wish to the stars and pray to the universe to always keep you safe and to let you know how much I love you.

When you started to withdraw your affections, I vacillated between letting you go and holding on, but reaching out to you somehow always won. I reasoned with myself: Can I really live with myself for not trying to understand you when you are the person I love the most in this world? Is this (shunning you) any way to treat someone who will be my husband? 

After this reasoning, I always came back to you. I sent you beautiful poetry or articles related to motorcycles or helpful links about your career and even childish Viber stickers. I sent you signs of my love patiently each night with a curtly keyed-in good night or a corny good night sticker just before I close my eyes to rest each night, never mind that you don't respond or just seen-zone it. "I love you and I will not give up" is my battlecry, and I ignored all the hurt you were piling up on me. I will not be calling out all your faults coz after all loving is not about me, but my decision to continue giving it to you even without getting any in return.

I had no idea when I intended to stop until one day when I decided to take a peek at your profile, and found that the only heart I had ached for every waking day for months --and which had been kept safely out of my reach-- now belongs to someone else.

From Denial to Acceptance: Going from Slim to Huggable

I have always been a waif for most of my pre-pubescent and pubescent years and up until college. Everyone in the family would always tease me "tikling" which I understood to be a tall, thin object because I resemble exactly that in their eyes. On my second year of college, I had the waist line of 23 inches and our pre-physical check-up for our swimming class in P.E. revealed that I only weigh 88 lbs.

I know that most of my friends and family are surprised at how big I've suddenly become. So to settle that, here are the compilation of facts and reasons on why I suddenly "blew up" for those of you who are wondering:

1.  When the movie Queen of the Damned was released, I remember one of my friends saying that they didn't enjoy it as much because "Aaliyah was too petite to be a queen". That simple comment had been engraved in my memory for future reference. 
2.  I remember browsing through photos of me from my bro's camera when I was a bit "chunkier" and I also remember feeling happy with my heavier albeit curvier figure. 
3.  Friends and family always tease me for my "lack of behind". Even got into an argument with an ex that ended in me almost hitting him with my bag and umbrella (he ducked) because he kept on insisting that I had my cherry popped already simply derived from his mom's theory that "flat-assed" women had their cherries popped. 
4. Back when I was with MTV, we had an intern who was bigger than normal in terms of height and size but also curvier which led me to appreciate bigger and curvier women. I observed that curves are more emphasized and exaggerated when you are bigger as opposed to being curvy when you are petite where it's easy to overlook 'cause you're so slim and small.   
5. When a beau told me "pumayat ka" two years ago, his face looked sad. 
6.  After being jobless and having no money to buy the food I wanted to eat for a couple of months, I was jubilant with having secured a job finally that I decided that the extra money I was getting should be spent on my stomach's happiness. After all, my mom would just throw or give away the clothes, shoes, bags, groceries or things I buy, but when money goes straight to eating out, well, I am sure that she can't take it away from my stomach anymore. 
7.  If there's a sickness called anorexia nervosa, I'm probably the opposite. Always seeing in my mind's eye my beau's sad face with the words "pumayat ka", I always imagine myself to be the waif I used to be in earlier years so I always eat more recently. Finished with my meal? I will get a 2nd serving of rice or around 5 more "subo's" to eat with my potato chips. I think I have also adapted a post-holocaust era mentality after being unemployed for what to me felt like eternity, so my eating up is me assuring myself that everything's okay. "There, there...You will never go hungry again, poor stomach!" 

As I have this ongoing delusion where I felt I truly am slim no matter what I ate, it never really dawned on me that I was already gaining weight. And now, here's what led me to slowly believe I am in fact getting bigger (although I was in denial through most of them)

1. A short-sleeved blouse that has turned sleeveless.
2. Lately, I always feel soreness in my lower back and my bum just sitting at my desk in the office. I just pass it of as a sign of aging but later on I realize that it may be because I'm not used to bearing the extra weight I've gained!
3. Similarly, there were times in the past when I can stroll malls from 3PM - 8PM and I'll just get tired feet. But now I notice that just a few minutes' worth of walk can make my feet sore regardless of what shoe I wear, and I'll have no choice but to go home even if I still have lots to see. Could it be because I am now heavier? :( 
4. Washing my face one evening and then looking up at the ceiling to feel something new cushioning the back of my head: Surprise! I now have fatty skin folds on my nape! 
5. I went to fit a dress and when I looked at my naked body in the dressing room mirror I can notice all the bulges that weren't there before! 
6. Finally, I used to have a tape measure on my room's desk where I can easily use it any old time I wanted to know if I am gaining weight or not. But it had disappeared for years now and I always forget to ask mom about it. When I specifically asked my mom for it the other day, I got the surprise of my life when I found I am 4 inches more than my "average fat tummy" measurement. 

Love of my life, light of my soul.

Bituing Walang Ningning The Musical Review

I have always loved watching plays and musicals. That's why when a colleague scored VIP tickets and invited me to watch a musical with her on a week day at the Newport Performing Arts Theater, Resorts World Manila, I immediately said yes even if I usually sleep early on weekdays, the venue was far from home and I had no idea how to get home by myself late at night.

The musical was Bituin Walang Ningning, a rendition from the wildly popular original same-titled movie of the 80's starring Sharon Cuneta and Cherie Gil and featuring the classic line "You're nothing but a second-rate trying hard copycat!" delivered by the latter whilst emptying contents of her wine glass to the former's face. The story revolves around a sampaguita vendor girl who is a huge fan of a singing star but later on rises to singing star fame herself with the help of her singing star idol's manager/boyfriend who planned the whole thing to coerce his superstar girlfriend into settling down with him.

As someone born in the 80's, I'm always excited and nostalgic for anything throwback in the era when I was born so I thought it was the perfect way to celebrate Throwback Thursday last January 7.

Me with Auntie (Jon Santos) and Dorina (Monica Cuenco)

That's why I was glad that they did not try to modernize the movie into today's era but portrayed it in the 80's. The teased big hair and fishnet stockings of Cris Villonco (who played Lavinia Arguelles); the classic poster carrying and waving of fans, Kuya Germs and his entertainment show, and the adorning of sampaguita garlands on the celebrity idol's neck were all very 80's, not to mention the flashing of testimonials of approval to the rising star Dorina Pineda (portrayed by Monica Cuenco) from 80's music singers Basil Valdez and many others in the 80's.

Because I was used to watching plays and musicals with old-fashioned, constructed real backdrops, I was disappointed to see that most of the backdrops of the play were projected into the screen instead of the actual back drops, but at the same time it made sense since in today's era it would cut costs to do that instead of having actual backdrops so that the artists and talents can raise more money. Still I missed the old school, carpentered back drops of yester years.

Despite not having actual backdrops as I had hoped to see, all in all Bituing Walang Ningning the Musical was a pleasure to see. I understand how the Resorts World production team need to import the movie from another era even though there are lots of other telescripts and movies to choose from because the script featured the hardships of unrequited love and harboring feelings for someone who loves another person (Dorina loving Nico who loves Lavinia, Gary loving Dorina who loves Nico and Nico finally loving Dorina whom he thinks is in love with Gary), in other words a "hugot" or "feels" twist to the plot, which is very popular in today's generation.

Me with Gary (Ronnie Liang) and Nico (Mark Bautista)

Apart from the "hugot" twist to the plot, what made both the movie and the musical epic was the 2 songs featured in the original movie composed by musical genius and fellow Aquarian Willy Cruz complete with heart wrenching lyrics and grand orchestra playing that can bring out the "hugot" and "feels"in everyone in the audience: the legendary "Pangarap na Bituin" and  the musical's hugot song offering, "Sana'y Maghintay ang Walang Hanggan". The musical also featured another Willy Cruz song sung by Sharon Cuneta that was not featured in the movie, "Kumusta Ka".

Basically, the difference between the movie and the musical was that the movie used popular English songs sung by foreign artists to be sang by Sharon Cuneta and Cherie Gil such as I Just Called to Say I Love You, I Can't Wait Forever, Total Eclipse of the Heart, etc. While the musical focused on OPM songs. Also, the theater version had more comic moments care of comedian Jon Santos (who played Dorina's auntie) and also featured punchlines delivered by the rest of the cast.

Regarding the quality of the talents' voice, the songs sung by Lavinia were not enough for me to fully appreciate Cris Villonco's voice. Meanwhile, I can hear a bit of the original Dorina (Sharon Cuneta) in Monica Cuenco's voice. Her voice can really go loud and powerful but there are times when it breaks a bit in the beginning although it goes full force in the middle. Of course her little inconsistencies is forgivable for a first timer in theater performances.

Even though I complained earlier about the projected backdrop for most of the scenes in the musical, I was quite happy with the backdrop they used for the two main scenes of the musical where Dorina Pineda sang "Pangarap na Bituin" and the stage was dimmed and suddenly filled with twinkling stars. They also made her wear a white dress that made her stand out in the dark night of the stage, and the long skirt of her dress was spread around her as she stood on top of the stairs while patterns of stars lit up and danced around her skirt to illuminate her in total Diva/Flores de Mayo Sagala/Star of the Night fashion. If the first main scene featured real looking stars from the skies, the final scene where she once again sang "Pangarap na Bituin" with her idol Lavinia had the stage filled with glamorous huge star-shaped headlights, much like the ostentatious, flashy stage backdrops of TV shows and performances in the 80's such as Loveli-Ness showdowns.

But even the flashing of the huge stars in the background did not stop me from tearing up as Dorina meets her idol on stage to give a touching dialogue and to hang a sampaguita garland on her neck just like old times.