because i'd rather post a funny email than try to explain mad passionate love ...


Once upon a time in the kingdom of Heaven, God was missing for six days. Eventually, Michael the Archangel found him, resting on the seventh day. He inquired of God, "Where have you been?" God sighed a deep sigh of satisfaction and proudly pointed downwards through the clouds, "Look, Michael. Look what I've made." Archangel Michael looked puzzled and said, "What is it?". "It's a planet," replied God, "and I've put Life on it. I'm going to
call it Earth and it's going to be a great place of balance." "Balance?" inquired Michael, still confused. God explained, pointing to different parts of earth. "For example, northern Europe will be a place of great opportunity and wealth, but
cold and harsh while southern Europe is going to be poor but sunny and pleasant. I have made some lands abundant in water and other lands parched deserts. This one will be extremely hot, while this one will be very cold and covered in ice."

The Archangel, impressed by God's work, then pointed to a group of islands and said, "What are those?" "Ah," said God. "That's the Philippines, the most glorious place on earth. There are beautiful beaches, rivers, mountains and forests. The people from the Philippines are going to be handsome, modest, intelligent and humorous and they are going to be found traveling the world. They will be extremely sociable, hardworking and high achieving, and they will be
known throughout the world as carriers of peace and love." Michael gasped in wonder and admiration but then proclaimed, "What about balance, God? You said there would be balance." God replied wisely, "Wait until you see the idiots I put in the government."

stupid

sometimes you just wish you can take back SMS you sent without really thinking. sometimes you wish that you had just ignored that heady intoxication you got from being with someone almost every single day. sometimes you wish you could just settle for the one who could give you everything you want, and more.

* * *

vanessa, who probably ran out of good advice, just sang a couple of lines to me:

He's everything you want
He's everything you need
He's everything inside of you
That you wish you could be
He says all the right things
At exactly the right time
But he means nothing to you
And you don't know why

* * *

the martian has probably the biggest fan club: vanessa and rey love him. rosan puts in a good word about him every single day. my students ask about him all the time (not to mention say him and make small talk with him when he drops by the office). my cousins, who totally snubbed trills when i brought him over, felt that their US vacation was ruined when they overheard from my mom that mars and i had broken up. my favorite grand-aunt shells out money for boxes and boxes of pizza when we drop by her house. even people who read this have been asking when we'd get back together.

i don't know. last night i thought long and hard. he's as dependable as an mmda hiding along that illegal u-turn without a sign. i know exactly when he'd text (6:45 a.m. to tell me to be careful on my way to work, 4:45 p.m. to tell me to be careful going to UP, 10:00 p.m. to tell me to either study or get some rest). i know exactly where he is (tuesday basketball at valle verde, friday bowling, saturdays with my bro and their other friends) and how he feels about me (he'd just propose, he claimed, saying that fine, i may not be his gf right now but he knows what he wants and what he wants happens to be me). i know that although i've been a bitch and have been evil and can be totally unbearable he'd still love me. i know that all i have to do is text him and he'd come running. i know that he knows exactly what i want for saturday lunch (kfc, 2-pc. chicken, rice, coleslaw, rootbeer, if you must know). he knows that awful weekdays can be cured with friday's cajun chicken fingers, a bag of gummy worms, and rocky road ice cream.

so why not?

because i'm stupid. because i crave for things i cannot have. because i want good conversation above anything else. because the weekly dozen roses lose their charm after a month. because grammar -- even via SMS -- counts. because ...


ANYTHING LESS THAN MAD PASSIONATE LOVE IS A WASTE OF MY TIME.

turning sappy

I'll be all right
As long as it matters
As long as you're here with me now
-gin blossoms

* * *

public service announcement

classes in UP have been cancelled.

no law school. no evidence. no waiting until the teacher decides to show up. no pretending to like the subject. no speed reading cases you should have read weeks ago but was too enthralled in csi to do so.

it's all good, i tell you.

* * *

scary

bb, in one of those rare instances when we get along, had a chat with me while munching on the ube piyaya that the martian brought back from iligan.

bb: kawawa si jackie no?
me: oo nga eh. i wanted to give blood.
bb: ha? eh kaoopera mo pa lang.
me: oo nga. di pwede daw. si mars na lang.
bb: si mars? grabe.
me: bakit grabe?
bb: imagine mo, ganoon ka niyan kamahal.
me: huh?
bb: nagbigay siya nang dugo, not even for you, but for a former student at that. ganoon. sobra yun.

that got me thinking. apparently, he's not only willing to buy stuff i crave, put up with my awful temper, and go to the parlor with me. he's also into giving his blood - blood!!!! - to a student's grandmother.

wow.

but of course bb had the last word, "pero make it clear ha, friends lang. friends lang. friends lang. boto ako sa kanya pero friends lang. iba gusto ko maging asawa mo."

ah ok. talk about your boss taking care of your personal life too.

why do i have to work?

while the rest of the metro manila population, and definitely the makati people, are resting in bed, celebrating their extended weekend, i on the other hand am at work. was very very hopeful last night when messages came pouring in about classes being cancelled, moreso when the official cancellation of classes came in. woke up early, logged on, and started chatting with my mom while trying to watch television and listen to a cd at the same time.

boss had to ruin it though by sending the official announcement: classes are cancelled but staff and faculty have to work.

darn. i bet we're the only school in the entire universe that makes its faculty and staff go to work even if classes have been cancelled already. i don't get it. do we have super powers that'll make us immune from whatever prevents students from going to class? take for example floods. kids are sent home at lunch cause the roads are flooded. so they go home in their f150s and troopers while we stay in school hoping against all hope that there are cabs willing to ferry us home.

i don't get it at all.

* * *

it doesn't help that i have a very bad case of tamaditis, coupled with a very weary me. it's monday and i'm tired already.

* * *

i think i have to stress this one more time.

jayvee --

the privilege of knowing where my blog is does not extend to informing certain people about it. to my knowledge, i informed three people of the previous blog and yet a certain undesirable someone who i know you are friends with came to know of it, causing way more trouble than necessary. it was good that i tranferred the blog already.

i will appreciate it if you keep this one a secret.

a spoon is not a scary weapon but painful.

* * *

on to happier stuff.

i got a bag of goodies from the martian when he came back from iligan. who would have thought that mango yema could taste so good? yummy yummy yummy.

* * *

got rejected to give blood again. this time it's cause of the operation.

poor martian, who just volunteered to drive me to the hospital, gave blood instead.

by the time we got home, he was woozy. dunno if it was from the loss of blood or from the fact that i drove his car, without a license, like a maniac just to make it home in time for csi.

the hell i care

makati might be a warzone right now but i don't care.

the rebels may have a five p.m. deadline but i don't care.

they could very well blow up glorietta and greenbelt for all i care.

cause i've got it good. and it's all good.

intruder alert

i hate how i'd rather watch a crappy movie with you than go to bed after a long tiring day.

i hate how i'd rather watch a great movie with you than the person i promised i'd watch it with.

i hate how i showed you around one of my favorite places in the world and how you fell in love with it too unlike the others.

i hate how you stare at me while i ate my tapsilog at rodic's and how you stole the icing off my devil's food cake.

i hate how you'd call me to say goodnight and i'd be too sleepy to give you coherent answers.

i hate how you'd tell me you missed me half an hour after i drop you off. (oh i definitely hate that you didn't invite me to have goto with you.)

i hate how being with you feels like wearing a favorite pair of stilettos -- confident and pretty but with a nagging thought that anytime soon you'd trip.

i hate how i'd put the phone on silent so that i wouldn't feel bad not hearing the message alert tone cause you're not texting but pleasantly surprised when i check the silent phone and there's one message received from you.

i hate how you try to make me mad at you so you can see me mad and laugh at me when i get all pissed and irritated.

i hate how in spite of this list i'd still rather spend time with you.

* * *

you've intruded, big time.

* * *

i just wish i've intruded in yours too.

* * *

the martian just had his first plane ride. funny how he kept texting all morning:

i'm heading sa domestic airport now. feeling a bit nervous and excited ü (4:03 a.m.)

i'm inside the airport now (4:15 a.m.)

boarding now ü good morning. take care and have a nice day ü (4:56 a.m.)

inside the plane now, i feel really nervous and realy excited ü (5:07 a.m.)

touch down ... i'm here ü (6:47 a.m.)

it's a good thing i sleep like the dead. otherwise ... hmph.

making my pink lemonade

"you see," he goes on to say authoritatively, right arm draped over the back of his chair, legs extended in front of him, and a smirk already forming on his face, "you've got all of these lemons, some of them not even good, and you're just staring at them. on the other hand, pam has made her lemonade and i have got my lemonade stand already."

i slumped even further. his smirk just got bigger as he said, "you're not even trying to tell me i'm wrong!"

oh i will. you just wait. it will a lemonade unlike any other. it'll be pink, and it'll shock you, and ...

... and yeah, i gotta start slicing those lemons real soon.

* * *

vanessa -- can i just tell you that i had chocolate marble waffles yesterday? mwahahaha.

my two passions in life

it won't be long now. in an hour and a half, i'd be lecturing to a class of fifty or so kids the first of three three-hour lectures on the legal foundations of education. i just love this opportunity to merge my two passions: education and law. i plan to kick ulan sarmiento's ass as far as this is concerned, maybe in five years' time.

you see, he happens to be the only (? i'm not really sure but he's on the board of virtually every catholic school in town) authority in so far as education law is concerned. he wrote this huge commentary on the manual of regulations for private schools. he visits various schools to lecture them on their rights and responsibilities. he's funny and he makes "fun" of the law by making jibes such as, "i can be quoting these provisions and you wouldn't really know whether i was saying the right thing or not."

dude, i would know.

he makes light of the teaching of law, saying how he's just five cases ahead of his students and how he'd review the codals and hour or two before class. it figures; he wasn't taught law in the grand manner.

* * *

i know i'm being totally vain about my school, but hell yeah. we may totally suck at basketball, but we try to manage in a whole lot of other things.

* * *

to borrow something pam wrote in her blog way way long ago,

if i rush at this relationship it's because i fear for it. i fear you have a door i cannot see and that any minute now the door will be open and you'll be gone.
-jeanette wilson, written on the body

that would have to be my greatest mistake every single time.

what is it with my best friends and marriage?

am i the designated single person in other people's lives?

i have one best girl bud and three best boy buds.

my first male bud decided to secretly marry his girlfriend before leaving for london.

my second male bud sort of proposed to his girlfriend before they left for toronto to pursue a career there.

my best girl bud is getting married a month and a half from now.

and now this. my third male bud, the person i vowed to do all my extra-marital affairs with (should i choose to do so, but strictly hypothetical crap), the person who had an even lousier concept of commitment than i had, the person who i run to for virtually anything, including planning the very painful death of an ex who vowed to make the rest of my life in UP miserable, had to break the news of his marriage via my tagboard no less.

*waaaah*

will i grow old and alone? will i forever be the chick they claim they wish they dated but never did? will i forever eat maxibon and super special siopao with vanessa to analyze the presence of yet another boylet in my life?

no. please no. no no no.

* * *

but then again, i can always go do plan b: kabit nang congressman.

how do i deal?

one of these days, i'm gonna meet one of them metrosexuals and life will probably be easier. cause, really, being with one -- i think -- is quite similar to being with your very stylish, very cool, and very affectionate gay best friend who happens to fall for hot chicks like you instead of eye the same men that you fall for.

cause honestly, i can now say, with all conviction, that men do not make sense.

* * *

no wonder they invented the rules. apparently you have got to play them in order to win them over. it can be very stupid (imagine a rule that goes be a creature unlike any other. yeah, yeah. i read the rules. i happen to have a copy at my office desk ) but when you've got a string of failed relationships on one hand, and a very devoted puppy dog (every girl has one, trust me) who caters to your every whim in spite of the fact that you have treated him, well, like a dog, you begin to believe that playing games and being flighty and stiff at times, coy the rest of the time, and generally dishonest about what you're thinking and feeling most of the time is really the way to go.

* * *

moreover, if jaemark who comes off as very sensitive and loving boyfriend can confess to you that he too can turn his feelings on and off depending on what's showing on television just like your brother who juggles three women at the same time, well then, men are all alike.

* * *

i really should follow my own advice and stop seeing other people. they just frustrate me.

Soaring high in the sky,
He may be small but only in size.
AstroBoy, AstroBoy,
He is brave and gentle and wise!

Stronger Than all the rest,
this mighty robot will pass the test,
Oh villans fear him, so we cheer him,
The amazing AstroBoy!

When you need someone strong,
Our robot friend will never be long.
AstroBoy, AstroBoy,
He will try to right any wrong!

When there's danger near by,
No matter who, what, where, when or why.
He'll defend us, he'll defend us,
The amazing AstroBoy!

thanks for the intro, pam.

the big fight

in spite of what you've been posting on your blog, or what you've been saying to your family and friends, or what you've been pretending to feel, in reality, you're beginning to fall in love again. you've come to realize that it's really not the master's degree that you're looking for, or witty comebacks to your jibes but the rock solid dependability that he has grown to represent in your life. he's your anchor, and when you smash your car onto a pick-up truck's back, and it's raining outside, and your hands are still shaking because you dont' know whether you're more scared of the accident or of your mom killing you because you had an accident, he's the first person you call.

you know he's not like the others you've dated. he doesn't flake out on you. he loves you more than life itself. he has little index cards filled with tidbits about you, like how you hate red roses and how grasshopper mint pie happens to be your favorite dessert. he remembers that tax is on saturday from 9 to 12 and that part of your job requires you to go on school visits every two weeks. he's the one who in spite of having been shouted at and ignored, would take you to the mall cause you feel like you want to be friends again and want to bond.

as the song goes, he's everything you want, he's everything you need.

but last night, he just kept ignoring calls and text messages. three hours later, he goes on to tell you he just had too much fun. sounds familiar. yeah. it sounded so much like the one you loved the most but broke your heart into tiny little bits.

so i had to say, i'm sorry. i know we were trying to work things out again, but no. you did the one thing that could send me crawling back to that dark dreary place where love is something that people try not to feel, or even remember. and last night, i did.

kasalanan maging pangit

i guess she noticed it too -- some of the 25 best-dressed women featured in preview were more rich than fashionable. and they should be. as i've always said, kung mayaman ka, kasalanan maging pangit.

case in point: ever notice how people notice you (and how lovely your haircut/color is) after you've stepped out of the salon? or when you've finally bought those lovely but very expensive pair of shoes you've always wanted to buy? these things take money, which if you're rich, i believe you have in abundance.

on the other hand, the person who has to make do with sm clothes and marikina shoe expo shoes would have a bigger challenge that the woman who steps out in jimmy choos.

so maybe they should feature real women, women you see in the streets, women not armed with stylists and a deep friendship with rajo laurel or rhett eala. women who went to their proms and grad balls with clothes they themselves designed and not conceptualized and executed by joe salazar. they should feature women who, with a one thousand peso budget, can come up with an outfit worthy of a second look. women who may not be carrying monogrammed bags but still command our attention. those are the women i want to see.

and when they finally feature these women, then maybe they would be able to really say that they have found the 25 best dressed women..

very expensive tuyo

i've been addicted to gourmet tuyo since one of our neighbors decided to give away colorfully wrapped bottles of it for christmas. in 1993 it was something new, i think, and since my entire family never liked tuyo to begin with, they gladly handed them over to me.

so gourmet tuyo became my favorite food of all time. i'd always get a bottle whenever we'd go to the grocery. it became my best friend too, especially went i went back to school and had to cook my own food. it was instant gratification after long classes in law: i'd buy a cup of rice, put the bottle in a bowl of warm water, fry an egg, and within minutes, enjoy a meal fit for a queen.

well, last night was one of those nights. i had rushed home from the grocery to catch csi. was awfully hungry when i remembered that i bought tuyo. i cooked rice and within twenty minutes i had my mini-feast.

that is, until i got a teeny-tiny fishbone lodged in my tonsil.

a cup of rice, five bananas, one liter of water, and 10 hours later, damn fishbone was still stuck. if boyfriends stuck to me as much as that fishbone did, i'd be married with kids by now.

went to the emergency room in desperation this morning. EENT did all sorts of things to my throat:

(1) flat stick to see if it was visible to the naked eye. nope.
(2) long thin stick with a camera probe. yup it was there. brought out his forceps to do his thing. oops, gag reflex.
(3) ten gags later, he resorted to spraying something to prevent gag reflex. did not work.
(4) probably tired with the entire thing, he used this big metal thing to hold my tongue then went on to declare that fishbone is no longer there.

no, no, no, i protested. how could it be when it's difficult to swallow still?

in his infinite wisdom (which did not include the ability to tie his own shoelaces) he proclaimed that source of pain was not fishbone but the inflammation caused by the fishbone. he whipped out his prescription pad and made a list of medicines to make me all better.

medicine cost more than my gas allowance for a week.

evil evil fishbone. evil evil tuyo.

* * *

incidentally, in my twisted mind, doctor looked like a very cute geek. if the pain does not go away within two days, i will demand that they bring me right back to him. he can kiss me to make it all better.

*kikay*

sigh...

the one

what is it with women that we always keep thinking that he'll be the one. of course we'd be all pakipot and mahinhin and all that rules crap but once we fall hopelessly, madly in love with the lovee, we conveniently forget the checklist, drop all expectations, and believe that he is the one.

it doesn't matter if he didn't graduate from a good school (hence cannot be a good tutor to your future children) or cannot even dribble a basketball (totally killing the only sport you can play), once we've said he's it, we're able to convince ourselves that he's it.

which is stupid really, cause given the fickle nature that most women have, or at least i have, the moment the relationship with pseudo-"the one" turns a bit sour and another potential "the one" comes strutting along, well, the eye wanders, the mind conjures up all the stuff back from the checklist and you brandish it like you would a contract saying, "you don't have this, and this, and this ..." and bring up the often used line, "you don't love me like you used to."

i wish i could be like a guy. my brother, hot stud that he is, has three girls. one happens to be a very successful manager in a cebu-based boat company. she earns twice as much as i do, is very competent at her job, and is quite cute. the second one graduated from physical therapy with honors and is pursuing med school. the third one's in canada, has bought a home for her family, is sending her siblings to school there, and is doing quite well for herself.

the amazing thing is that whenever one of them would do the tampong pururot thing, he'd give them the line -- fine, leave.

and they don't. he never chases after them, has denied that valentine's is a holiday, and conveniently forgets anniversaries, birthdays, and christmas. he's been together with them for two years (or more) already and they're one happy polygamous family. i bet they all think he's the one.

what is it with men and women these days?

i swear... singleness is beginning to sound like a good deal.

did i just sound so lola in the previous post?

gawd.

i'm old.

you did what?

how could you have been so stupid?

how could you have gone to chico's? how could you have gone when both of you haven't been there before and you didn't really know what to expect there?

how could you have moved on to padi's at 11 p.m.? how could you have danced with men you didn't know, sat down with them, and ate the food they set before you?

how could you have violated curfew -- knowing very well that after curfew they don't really look for you anymore and you could be dead and they'd be none the wiser -- just to go dancing and dancing and dancing?

how could you have shared a cab with two strangers?

how could you have allowed the cab driver to bring you all the way to espana?

how could you have gone out without a cellphone?

you two were very very very lucky. you better be thanking god non-stop for the next couple of months.

cause honestly, what you did was pretty stupid. and had they brought you to ongpin, the next time i'd know anything about you would be when i read your name in the metro pages.

i know that there's so many things we're at odds with, but with you doing these things plus you doing that other stupid thing which might leave you a very pregnant kid make me want to just hit you with a bat to knock some sense into you!

spaghetti pababa, spaghetti pataas

been hounded by thoughts of spaghetti all week.

tuesday: read a book to pre-school kids about how daddy makes the best spaghetti. uh-oh craving started. even though i was very full from my late afternoon merienda, i allowed myself to be prodded by tpie to order a plate of spaghetti from NYPD.

wednesday: spaghetti at NYPD no good, i ordered another plate of spaghetti, this time from pancake house.

thursday: oh my oh my ... snack at pre-school i visited was exactly the spaghetti i've been craving for: sweet, with hotdogs. kiddie spaghetti for short. but was reduced to serving spaghetti to kids to assist the very very harassed teacher.

friday: another pre-school, another plate of spaghetti. this time, the teacher gave me a pre-school sized plate with about three fork-fulls of spaghetti. noodles were overcooked, ketchup was used, and there was not even a hint of meat. uh-oh. ate it under protest.

grrr. grrr. grr. later... i gotta buy jolly spaghetti later.

the wayward finger

rosa + traffic + stupid drivers in stupid cars = roadrage = rosa's finger flying up in rage.

tsk tsk i say. twice i've made the mistake of giving the driver the finger while driving inside UP. so so wrong when (1) the car does not have tint so i'm so visible from the outside and (2) the driver might actually be one of my teachers in law.

so i made the promise to tame tame tame tame my wayward finger.

and this morning, while driving in ortigas, with men-who-wouldn't-have-stepped-foot-inside-a-vehicle-had-they-not-been-drivers behind the wheel i was able to resist the urge to give several drivers the finger.

and ha! what do you know --- they all study where i work!

hmmm.... nah, have promised to kill all evil thoughts yesterday when i asked God for a quick favor.

he granted the favor. the hand with the wayward finger now just grips the steering wheel tight.

retail therapy

i still think about the ex, but for the last 48 hours, brain space is shared with the knowledge that i now own the fino bag that has kept me salivating -- to the point that i've been to two malls i don't frequently visit -- for more than a month now.

yeah. trust a girl's perceived feelings for an ex to be overshadowed by a new bag.

* * *

allow me to plug my new shampoo and conditioner.

lovely, lovely hair today. the bottle's attactive, the scent's attractive, and the price is attractive. what more can a girl ask for?

so i thought of crossing out what i posted yesterday.

so i thought having a nice tapsilog dinner at rodic's would wipe away the memory of an ex who never liked hanging out at UP.

so i thought that the words of wisdom of a much older classmate would help me see things in the proper light.

so i thought remembering all the un-nice stuff he did would make me realize he's a stupid dork who doesn't deserve my love.

so i thought that recalling all the wonderful, beautiful, romantic, and gush-worthy stuff mars did for me would make me realize that there are millions of better men out there.

so i thought wrong.

all i can think of is how i used to be able to bury my face on his chest and savor all the soap-smell i want.