withdrawal

Okay. After my last post, I realized I am too hooked on J-drama. Will cut off the programming starting this minute.

(As for Hiro.... he's not as easy to cut off. I must remember the following: he's married; he's a celebrity; he's miles and miles away; he doesn't and will never know I exist. Oh, and come on!!! I don't even crush on the celebrities in my own country!)

Okay. So henceforth, it will be a review of the corporate code, articles on asset protection trusts, reality shows, Oprah, maybe some un-addictive chick lits to bore myself to death, and ... some gym time.

Regular programming coming up!

Butler woes

That's it?!? That's it?!? What?!?

You have got to be kidding me. That was supposed to be the "Last Kiss", as stated in the episode title? That was their first kiss! And, what? It's also supposed to be their last; otherwise, why would it be entitled "The Last Kiss"?!?

Last kiss as butler and his lady because thereafter they'll be kissing as lovers? Last kiss EVER because of the law? WHAT?!? What kind of ending is that?!?

Horrible! Terrible!

Can somebody kick some sense into the director/s and the screenwriter/s?!? I need a continuation, special episode, succeeding episode, part two, another ending ---- whatever they can give me ---- of Mei-chan no Shitsuji!

They could just make a special episode wherein Izumi, as the Lucia-sama, abolishes the rule against lady-butler relationships and so Mei-san and Rihito can have the usual blah-blah DEFINITE happy ending.

Ugh. That one kiss was simply NOT enough. Come on! I mean, COME ON! You can't do this to me! Give me a definite ending or else I will be painting all sorts of other endings in my head all day and all night! I don't want that! The world does not want that (butterfly effect, remember?)!

Gahd! She did not even get to close her eyes when the kiss happened! Another scene! Another chance! Another episode, at least!!!

I beg you... (I could do a rain dance... or a "give-me-another-episode-for-that-Japanese-drama dance". Anything!)

Or, you can just ship Rihito to me. With his butler's garb, or without. I'm not that picky.

communication

Here's me talking to you. Here, where you couldn't blurrblurrblurr me when i start to reason out.

I don't mind it when you tell me my hair is ugly. Or that my dress is not in style. But why the double standards when I try to turn the tables on you?

You say it's because you're a man and I say, so what? Just because you're a man doesn't mean you can be a total slob and, much less, be a judge of what's ugly and what's hot on me.

You assume all things about me: that I think this and I think that. That my intention was this and my intention was that.

I don't even mind that you try to impress your thoughts upon me. I know you're just trying to help. But, please, give me room to have my own perceptions also. I am merely human. I have opinions about all sorts of things. And although you won't agree with most of them, they're my opinions nonetheless. I will ask for your opinions (and I do) when I feel you'd know better.

This does not mean I love you less. I'm just tired of just taking it all in without saying what I feel. I do not try to change you. Please do not try to change me also, not even my laughter.

This is me: I laugh out loud. I am very candid. I do not want to change or suppress my laughter because you think it is not a woman's laughter. Wake up. I am a woman, yet I have this big, hearty laugh.

I can't change everything you want me to change. And I do not want to.

I won't do everything you want me to do. I am not a dummy. Please respect that.

So when you start telling me I think this and that and that even though I'm saying this and that, what I really mean is this and that, then be prepared to be treated like that also. It's not fair that you are the only one who can do all these things and get away with it. We are equals. Please recognize that.

So, here's me, just telling you what's on my mind. Here, where you cannot interrupt me or make me feel guilty for thinking and saying all those things.

I hope someday soon you'd read this.

i put the cross on the roads

I never believed one arrives at a crossroad by chance.

Our steps are our own. And even if we say that our eyes were blindfolded as we walked, it was still our choice to walk to whichever direction we did.

So let us not blame chance for confusing us. We brought this upon ourselves.

walk my thoughts

I'm fascinated again with 9 Crimes.

I want a balloon.

The right time and THE right time

The clock strikes 12. The alarm rings.

Lunch. Break-time. An excuse to leave your desk - legitimately.

Yet you sit there, unmoving, not waiting for anything at all. You're just... wondering at how much difference it can make. It. No one knows really what it is. For you, it is a lot of things. And a lot of things, converged at one place, at one time, can surely make a great difference.

People mill all around you. They oddly stare at you, wondering why you're left there, contemplating. The clock had struck 12 already, after all.

Yet you stay.

The clock strikes 12. The alarm rings.

Cinderella story. Curfew. Grounding opportunities when you're not home by then.

But that was past, and now, the party has just begun. You're a loser if you go home before then. So to save face, you endure a couple more minutes of grinding, loud music and rounds of tequila shots.

Does this bother you? No. Not quite. You just stare quietly ahead. Looking, but not really seeing the other people. Is it indifference or haughtiness, others ask. You know it may be both, but not quite both.

Time changes everything. And how difference time makes!

The clock has struck 12. It has set things and people into motion. But then again, it is not your clock.

So you stay.

the special days

I got cast in a play, in the lead role of "The Pussycat". It was a big day for me: "The Owl" was supposed to kiss me in front of the whole world. I practiced day and night for this moment. I made sure to wear my pretty white and red dress under my paper pussycat costume. I perfected my crawl.

But you weren't there to applaud me.

I graduated from Kindergarten today, with a bunch of awards under my arms. I delivered a speech in front of the whole world, in a white satin dress my nanny and your secretary picked out. I even wore my hair down. For hours, I practiced my speech in front of the mirror, so that I would not choke on my lines. You would be proud, definitely.

But, oh, you weren't there.

I turned 10 today - I'm practically an adult! I'd been very good: performing exceptionally in my school work, talented to boot, and well-liked by my teachers (not exactly by my peers, but they do not give out the grades anyway so who cares?). You told my nanny to prepare a big bash at the school for me, just like the one I had last year, and the year before that, and the year before that... The principal even agreed to have classes suspended. I wondered what time you'd come.

But you couldn't make it. So you sent Jollibee instead.

I graduated from grade school today. Salutatorian. Impressive, huh? I got a lot of other awards too.

But I wasn't the valedictorian so only my cousin and his wife would attend the rites.

I graduated from high school today. I was the salutatorian, yet again. I was not expecting you so I invited my cousin instead. He showed up and was really proud of me.

You showed up, too, but you were still not happy since I was only the salutatorian. My cousin had persuaded you to come and since he's your favorite nephew, you came. But you left early - after you told me that second honors will never be good enough.

I graduated from college today. With no honors and only one medal. I invited my friends and my cousins and their families. I did not invite you at all. But my thesis partner did. Funny that you even showed up at all. You might be getting soft. I invited the one person I knew who'd annoy the hell out of you. And it worked. We did not talk the entire time. We did not even ride together - to my graduation and to the restaurant and back to our house. I pretended you were not there, except to pay the bill. You've been doing that to me ever since, haven't you?

And so, you were not there. Except to pay the bill.

I graduated from law school today! Such a great accomplishment on my part. I invited you since this was your dream for me. You debated with yourself rather endlessly on whether you'll attend or not. It was only a couple of days before the actual graduation day that you finally decided you would. It was on graduation day itself that I actually realized you really really would. And you were smiling this time, especially when you walked up the stage with "the person who had been with me through the best and worst days of my life for more than two years now".

It was the happiest day of my life, having the two of you on the stage with me.

I passed the bar today! We passed the bar today! After getting the news, I texted you. You called. I was smiling from ear to ear. But, wait... You had a disappointed tone. No, I did not top. No, this was not the official announcement yet. Yes, I'm sure I did not top or else they would have told me. Yes, I'm actually happy. Shouldn't we all be? *Click.*

No congratulations. Even up to this day. Passing was not enough to make you happy.

I'll take the oath on Wednesday. I have two tickets for you and your wife. Yes, the car's all set and the driver is as you requested. But, wait... Oh, the preparations are all for me. How sweet. So that I won't have to drive alone. 'Cause you can't come on Wednesday since you'll already be here on Tuesday for a meeting. Naturally, you can't stay for another day since it's campaign period. Of course, a board meeting is much more important than the oath taking of your only daughter who's going to be a lawyer now.

Of course, you wouldn't be here. Of course.

*Pause*


When the time comes for me to wed (if it ever does come), I would practice walking down the aisle by myself. When the time comes for me to give birth to my first, second, or even third child, I would not expect all of her granddads to be there, unless I'd want to wait for Hell to freeze over.

I'll build my own family and I promise to be there for my children during the good, better, best and bad, worse, and worst times of their lives (no, I would not deny my own future children of their parents). I will be happy with and among the people who would gladly be there for and with me. I will make these things (and more) happen. I will be.

Of course.
(I wouldn't have expected otherwise.)