GOING DOWN THE SPIRAL / JULY 15, 2010 =)

We arrived at 6:00 p.m., despite the horrendous traffic we had to wade through along Buendia, way too early for our 7:00 p.m. reservation. For our fourth anniversary dinner, Hubby Sweet had wanted to try out The Goose Station, Rob Pengson & Sunshine Puey’s new restaurant at the Fort, but degustation (get it?) did not really appeal to me. Midway through it, I envisioned myself pulling at my hair and screaming, “DAAAAAAAAARRRRNN!!! Can you please just set everything down so I can eat what I want at the pace that I want?!” Hahaha. How plebian. =D

That said, I also thought it was ridiculously expensive. P2,500 for a 9-course set, P1,500 for a 5-course set. I mean, of course I know Rob and Sunshine from all their TV and magazine exposures, but I don’t think they have established themselves enough in my mind as culinary gods worthy of such price. So I told the Hubby, what if we eat in Circle or Spiral instead? I mean, it’s practically the same price and there’d be different stations pa?! I mean, come on!

It didn’t take much for him to change his mind. Haha!

So there we were, an hour early for our reservation, but no biggie. Apparently, the buffet opens at 6:30pm. We would have to wait it out.

“Can we sit out on the deck?” we asked, thinking that the temperature in the then relatively empty restaurant was too cold.

The hostess looked up at the sky. It was relatively blue, but the gray clouds looming in the horizon seemed to worry her. After all, it hasn’t even been two full days since Typhoon Basyang battered the Manila Bay coastline.

“You may sit outside, Ma’am, if you wish. I can just retain your original table inside for now—just in case it rains.”

She walked us out and told us she’d be back shortly with a complimentary bread basket.

“It’s OK,” I stopped her. “No need. We want to reserve space for the buffet.”

“Beer for me, please, “ Hubby Sweet piped up, “Beer na lang. Chaka, meron ba kayong….roasted highland legumes?”

She smiled, recognizing the joke, “Meron, Sir. Sandali lang po.”

We kicked back on the deck. Despite the fact that we were not quite beside the pool, and that the air was not quite as fresh as if we had driven out-of-town, the wide-open space looking out to coco trees and blue skies still provided a different vibe. It was a well-appreciated pocket of calm within the metro, especially coming from work stress and the traffic gridlocks we were immersed in practically just half an hour earlier.

6:30 came soon enough. And then, the feeding frenzy began. Haha!

Actually, frenzy wouldn’t be the correct term to use as we actually took things SLOW. While waiting for our turn to be seated, Hubby Sweet made the rounds of the different stations. There was an oyster bar, a cheese station, a grilling station, an Italian station, a Japanese station, an Indian/Mid-Eastern Station, a Chinese Station, a Thai Station in addition to the dessert buffet.

From the range of food that he saw and reported back to me, we realized that the only way we will survive this dinner is if we: (1) choose wisely, (2) eat slowly, and (3) walk around a lot. Hahaha.

Choosing to dine al fresco—while more inconvenient because it meant being seated farther away from the buffet stations inside—quite serendipitously proved to be the strategically correct move. Now, I didn’t want to keep lugging my bag around while going through the buffet so we also decided that only one of us should stand at any given time so that the other can stay with our stuff while the other one was away. While he was still unwinding with his beer and peanuts, I decided to go inside. (Unfortunately, taking pictures of the buffet was not allowed, so I would just have to resort to listing them down.)

Early on, I decided on a strategy. From light to heavy. From bland to spicy. Oh, and yes, I thought I’d skip those that I already regularly eat somewhere else. We also decided to just go for different things and taste each other’s buffet pick. We figured it’s the only way we can actually taste everything.

FIRST ROUND: MINE!
Three Types of Breads: whole wheat dinner roll, pretzel, crusty bread
Different Types of Spreads: hummus, baba ghanoush, yoghurt, olive tapenade, etc., etc.

FIRST ROUND: HUBBY’S!
Kalimutan ang appetizers! Haha! The Hubby, apparently, decided to go straight for the jugular.
Grilled Lamb Chops with Mint Jelly (which turned out to be worthy enough to be declared Top of the Heap, the Best of the Bunch, the kind that we continue to dream of to this day….haha! ^_^)
Grilled Fish (also, reeeeeeeeeeallllllly good, although we continue to debate whether it was gindara or local “salmon”) =)


SECOND ROUND: MINE!
Pork Siomai, Beef Siomai, Sharksfin (Ack! Bad. =S) Dumpling, Cuchay Dumpling
Raddish Cake
Mini-Asado Siopao
Fine! I know I said I’d skip those that I can eat somewhere else but curiosity got the better of me. With memories of Emperor’s Court at the Renaissance in my mind, I needed to know if it will be soooooo much better than all the other siomai I can buy for P25 in all the kiosks that seem to have sprouted all over the metro. Haha! (For the record, it was. Then again, it was much smaller and much more expensive so dapat lang. Haha. =))

SECOND ROUND: HUBBY’S!
A Platterful of Crab Claws
Raspberry Vinegar

THIRD ROUND: MINE!
A small bowl of Sukiyaki
A ramekin of Edamame
A ramekin of Chawan Musni (My winner discovery of the day! Yey! It tasted strangely like balut soup—yes, the duck egg—except that it was all about steamed egg white with a treasure of sliced mushroom, chicken, fish cake, etc. at the bottom. I dishes that provide multi-layered texture and tastes in a manner that combine almost effortlessly into a simple, comfort dish. )

THIRD ROUND: HUBBY’S!
Prime Rib (end-cut) with Demi-glace

FOURTH ROUND: MINE!
Chicken Tandoori
Lamb Curry
Roti
Mango Chutney

FOURTH ROUND: HUBBY’S!
Four Slices of Fois Gras with Fruit Confit

FIFTH ROUND: MINE!
Nahilo sa fois gras at naumay sa tandoori and curry, so I decided to go for something relatively neutral (walang kokontra, haha).
Crab Claws
Steamed, then iced Mollusks (a.k.a., tahong! Haha. Gigantic, succulent ones. ^_^)
Oysters (Wooooooooooooow….more…I want more….@_@...haha!)
Raspberry Vinegar

FIFTH ROUND: HUBBY’S!
Chawan Musni (he was so intrigued when he got to taste mine, he decided to get one for himself)
A ramekin of Edamame
Several Yakitori sticks

SIXTH ROUND: MINE!
Still reeling from the fois gras (and I actually only ate half a slice!), I decided to defer taking from the Thai buffet . Instead, I got these.
Several Crackers

Slivers of about Ten Types of European cheese (the names of which I no longer remember—except for the plain goat cheese and the goat cheese with ash, haha. ;D)

SIXTH ROUND: HUBBY’S!
Thai Prawn-Pomelo Salad
Two other types of salad whose name escapes me now


SEVENTH ROUND: MINE!
Fresh Fruit Platter: Pineapple, Melon, Watermelon
Japanese Green Tea
Yes, I was still reeling from the Fois Gras. It’s either I’m really no longer as young as I used to be. Or I shouldn’t eat Fois Gras in quick succession after Lamb Curry or Chicken Tandoori. Haha!

SEVENTH ROUND: HUBBY’S!
Mango Sorbet
Green Tea Sorbet

EIGHTH ROUND: MINE!
Yes, humirit pa ako ng eighth round. Bakit ba! Haha.
Cold Stone Ice Cream with marshmallow bits, M&Ms, plus white & milk choco chips

EIGHTH ROUND: HUBBY’S!

Japanese Green Tea

NINTH ROUND:.....

Wala nang ninth round! Wala nang space. =D

Hubby Sweet looked at his watch. 9:45 p.m. By the time we surrendered (yes, "surrendered" seems particularly apt, haha), we have been eating three hours straight.

BAD NEWS:
Three hours! But still, not nearly enough time (and stomach space) to try everything. =(

GOOD NEWS:
Oh, yessssssssssss......we left with reason enough to go back. =D

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For reservations, call 551-5555 or 832-6988.

My personal tip. Go easy on the drinks. Not only did they take up stomach space, they actually took up about P800 of our bill. Wah! Lesson learned. Next time, tubig na lang. Haha! =p

THE IV / JULY 15,2010 =)

When I was a child, I used to wonder how on earth my parents got together. Mother and Father were as different as night and day, their interests as different as black and white.

Father would often joke, “Gumimick nga kami ng Mommy mo nung Friday!”, to which we would all react, quite surprised, “Talaga?! Sa’n kayo nagpunta?”

Laughing, he’d reply, “Ako, sa Glorietta. Siya…ah…ewan, sa simbahan yata.”

Wahahaha. Nice one.=D

Now, I never really understood how their dynamics worked (although the vast difference in their temperament and personalities did make for some pretty “interesting” conversations). When I was young, I tended to think of love and marriage in terms of rainbows and roses. I used to think marriage ought to be about two people who finished each other’s sentences, who walked hand-in-hand everywhere they went, who loved the same things, who hated the same things. Marriage ought to be about people who did everything together. My parents weren’t like that, and I used to wonder, actually, how they could’ve lasted as long as they did. I suppose with friendship and puppy love as the only real benchmark for human relationships, I tended to think back then, well, if you didn’t like doing the same things, you’d look for other people to call as friends, right? Why on earth would you marry someone whose tendency is to go East when your clear preference is to go West?

Then I met the Hubby, got married and all of a sudden, kaboom!

I realize now it’s because you don’t really start out thinking that you live on opposite ends of the spectrum, or worse, that you may actually live in parallel universes. When the relationship is new, you find yourself willing to try just about anything. So you’d eat pesto for the first very time and declare it really good (even though in your mind, you’re practically eating grass). Or you’d take thrice a week tennis lessons (even though you know deep inside that you only enjoy tennis while planted horizontal on your couch as you watch Rafa deliver death by forehand). The list is endless, of course, but the point is this. As you try to learn more about this person who caught your fancy, you would inevitably want to take part in the things he/she enjoys. To get to know him/her better, I suppose. To find out if you’d enjoy doing the same things too, maybe. And because you technically still live in different houses, there really is never enough time to try out everything. This Friday, we would do what you want. On Saturday, let’s try out what I enjoy. Your friends, for the most part, declare you missing-in-action. For the most part, hopefully, they also understood.

The thing is, in the process, you find out that there is more to this other person than the things he/she likes doing. Things like ambition. Like diskarte. Like a sense of humor. Like kindness. Like love of family. Like love.

And then you decide that you like enough of what you see.

So you make the leap of all leaps.

You get married.

To have and to hold. From this day forward until death do you part.

Thing is, after the wedding inevitably comes the marriage, and you find yourself settling in a place where you have all the time and freedom in the world to do “couple stuff”. And, initially, you do try to still do everything together. Until you begin to realize after the nth tennis match, that hitting a yellow fuzzy ball really isn’t your thing and that you’d rather just stay home and read a good book. Until you begin to realize after the nth pasta dish that, unless it’s the hotdog and ketchup variety, pasta does not really float your boat and that all you really want is good, old sinigang.

So your world begins to open up again. Of course you have to make sure that you do enough together on a regular basis (otherwise, you run the risk of ending up as two mere boarders forced to live in the same house), but, really, after a while, you realize that it’s OK to meet up with other friends who genuinely love tennis as much as you do. After a while, you decide that’s it’s really OK to eat out with other folks who, like you, find real comfort in a plate of Aglio Olio and a good round of crostini with spinach dips. After all, it would be a sad, sorry life to live if you had to give up everything you used to enjoy when you were single just so you could do "only the things you can do together with your spouse".

The point, I suppose, is this. Even as you open up your world to include other people again, you inevitably go home.

A boyfriend/girlfriend is there as a gimmick bud (with benefits) who can technically be replaced when the going gets tough (or boring)—which is why a husband/wife ought to count for something more than a hobby-mate.

Every cliché in the book is practically true.

More than just someone to do things with, your spouse is your anchor. Your north. Your light in the darkness. Your rock.

Never mind that you now occasionally play tennis with other people or that you now get your pasta fix with someone else. The thing is, these people and you, no matter how good your friendship is, go your separate ways at the end of the day. So while they commiserate with you in times of trouble and toast to you in times of success, at the end of meal (or the game, for that matter), they go home to a life separate from yours with its own set of worries and its own set of celebrations. They go home to a life where your stories are only incidental and someone else’s concern is king.

Only your spouse is bound to you in a way that makes your worries his/her own (whether he/she wants it to be so or not). Only your spouse is bound to you in a way that makes your success his/her own. He/she lives your life like you do, in the same way you live his/her life. There is no escaping it. And, no, it is not an automatic grant that magically comes with that little piece of paper that you signed. Beyond legalities and societal expectations, it is borne out of a deep sense of personal commitment.

To be each other’s anchor. Each other’s north. Each other’s light in the darkness. Each other’s rock. Every single day. No matter what.

Beyond finishing each other’s sentences, beyond walking everywhere hand-in-hand, beyond choosing to be on the same side of every argument, beyond loving the same things, beyond hating the same things, beyond doing everything together, that is the essense of marriage.

In the movie “Shall We Dance”, Susan Sarandon’s character delivered one of the most profound lines I’ve ever heard in cinema. It was definitely not foremost in my mind when I took the leap, but the moment I heard it, it struck a chord because I appreciated the truth behind it.

To the question, “Why is it do you think that people get married?”, she replied:

“Because we need a witness to our lives. There’s a billion people on the planet. I mean, what does any one life really mean? But in a marriage, you’re promising to care about everything. The good things. The bad things. The terrible things. The mundane things. All of it. All the time. Every day. You’re saying your life will not go unnoticed, because I will notice it. Your life will not go on unwitnessed, because I will be your witness.”

When I was a child, I used to wonder how on earth my parents got together. Mother and Father were as different as night and day, their interests as different as black and white.

Then I met the Hubby.

Took the leap. Got married.

Today, four years to the day I walked down the aisle, I finally understood.


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Happy 4th anniversary, Sweetie! Here’s to more years of noticing and witnessing. Kahit na ayaw mo na kumain ng pesto at ayaw ko nang mag-tennis. Haha. ;p

BECOMING REAL / JULY 15,2009 =D

Today, Hubby Sweet and I turn three. Three years married. =)

Leading up to today, I've thought about how I would encapsulize the three years in my blog. When one announces that he/she is getting married, people usually get caught up in the frenzy of preparations for the wedding. The dress, the entourage, the venue, the give-aways, the photographer, the videographer, the caterer, the honeymoon, etc., etc. You go through a gazillion bridal showers / stag parties where you are given advice about how to handle married life--none of which you fully ingest because you're too starry-eyed about the idea of finally walking down the aisle to wed The One.

So you get married, and expect that happy-ever-after will come effortlessly on a silver platter.

But marriage takes work. And marriage takes commitment. Commitment that one must make not once on the altar (as we have all been led to believe), but every single day (sometimes, even several times a day) for the rest of your life.

To have and to hold,
From this day forward,
In sickness and in health,
For richer, for poorer,
Till death do us part.

People get married thinking that only health and wealth can happen and that the possibility of sickness and financial strain is remote. But three years later, Hubby Sweet and I have lived through both good and bad. Through hospital stays (both his and mine). Through career shifts and issues with job security. Through the acquisition of two adorable pups who brought joy to our lives, only to be forced to face the sudden death of one. Through happy out-of-the-country/town trips with the family, followed by simple one-viand dinners at home because we can only afford so much after deciding to get a bigger house.

I've thought about how I would encapsulize the past three years and everything that we have gone through, and decided to go with one of my all-time favorite tales. (Highlights mine.)

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THE VELVETEEN RABBIT
by Margery Williams

There was once a velveteen rabbit, and in the beginning he was really splendid. He was fat and bunchy, as a rabbit should be; his coat was spotted brown and white, he had real thread whiskers, and his ears were lined with pink sateen. On Christmas morning, when he sat wedged in the top of the Boy's stocking, with a sprig of holly between his paws, the effect was charming.

There were other things in the stocking, nuts and oranges and a toy engine, and chocolate almonds and a clockwork mouse, but the Rabbit was quite the best of all. For at least two hours the Boy loved him, and then Aunts and Uncles came to dinner, and there was a great rustling of tissue paper and unwrapping of parcels, and in the excitement of looking at all the new presents the Velveteen Rabbit was forgotten.

For a long time he lived in the toy cupboard or on the nursery floor, and no one thought very much about him. He was naturally shy, and being only made of velveteen, some of the more expensive toys quite snubbed him. The mechanical toys were very superior, and looked down upon every one else; they were full of modern ideas, and pretended they were real. The model boat, who had lived through two seasons and lost most of his paint, caught the tone from them and never missed an opportunity of referring to his rigging in technical terms. The Rabbit could not claim to be a model of anything, for he didn't know that real rabbits existed; he thought they were all stuffed with sawdust like himself, and he understood that sawdust was quite out-of-date and should never be mentioned in modern circles. Even Timothy, the jointed wooden lion, who was made by the disabled soldiers, and should have had broader views, put on airs and pretended he was connected with Government. Between them all the poor little Rabbit was made to feel himself very insignificant and commonplace, and the only person who was kind to him at all was the Skin Horse.

The Skin Horse had lived longer in the nursery than any of the others. He was so old that his brown coat was bald in patches and showed the seams underneath, and most of the hairs in his tail had been pulled out to string bead necklaces. He was wise, for he had seen a long succession of mechanical toys arrive to boast and swagger, and by-and-by break their mainsprings and pass away, and he knew that they were only toys, and would never turn into anything else. For nursery magic is very strange and wonderful, and only those playthings that are old and wise and experienced like the Skin Horse understand all about it.

"What is REAL?" asked the Rabbit one day, when they were lying side by side near the nursery fender, before Nana came to tidy the room. "Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?"

"Real isn't how you are made," said the Skin Horse. "It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real."

"Does it hurt?" asked the Rabbit.

"Sometimes," said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. "When you are Real you don't mind being hurt."

"Does it happen all at once, like being wound up," he asked, "or bit by bit?"

"It doesn't happen all at once," said the Skin Horse. "You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand."

"I suppose you are real?" said the Rabbit. And then he wished he had not said it, for he thought the Skin Horse might be sensitive. But the Skin Horse only smiled.

"The Boy's Uncle made me Real," he said. "That was a great many years ago; but once you are Real you can't become unreal again. It lasts for always."

The Rabbit sighed. He thought it would be a long time before this magic called Real happened to him. He longed to become Real, to know what it felt like; and yet the idea of growing shabby and losing his eyes and whiskers was rather sad. He wished that he could become it without these uncomfortable things happening to him.

There was a person called Nana who ruled the nursery. Sometimes she took no notice of the playthings lying about, and sometimes, for no reason whatever, she went swooping about like a great wind and hustled them away in cupboards. She called this "tidying up," and the playthings all hated it, especially the tin ones. The Rabbit didn't mind it so much, for wherever he was thrown he came down soft.

One evening, when the Boy was going to bed, he couldn't find the china dog that always slept with him. Nana was in a hurry, and it was too much trouble to hunt for china dogs at bedtime, so she simply looked about her, and seeing that the toy cupboard door stood open, she made a swoop.

"Here," she said, "take your old Bunny! He'll do to sleep with you!" And she dragged the Rabbit out by one ear, and put him into the Boy's arms.

That night, and for many nights after, the Velveteen Rabbit slept in the Boy's bed. At first he found it rather uncomfortable, for the Boy hugged him very tight, and sometimes he rolled over on him, and sometimes he pushed him so far under the pillow that the Rabbit could scarcely breathe. And he missed, too, those long moonlight hours in the nursery, when all the house was silent, and his talks with the Skin Horse. But very soon he grew to like it, for the Boy used to talk to him, and made nice tunnels for him under the bedclothes that he said were like the burrows the real rabbits lived in. And they had splendid games together, in whispers, when Nana had gone away to her supper and left the night-light burning on the mantelpiece. And when the Boy dropped off to sleep, the Rabbit would snuggle down close under his little warm chin and dream, with the Boy's hands clasped close round him all night long.

And so time went on, and the little Rabbit was very happy–so happy that he never noticed how his beautiful velveteen fur was getting shabbier and shabbier, and his tail becoming unsewn, and all the pink rubbed off his nose where the Boy had kissed him.

Spring came, and they had long days in the garden, for wherever the Boy went the Rabbit went too. He had rides in the wheelbarrow, and picnics on the grass, and lovely fairy huts built for him under the raspberry canes behind the flower border. And once, when the Boy was called away suddenly to go out to tea, the Rabbit was left out on the lawn until long after dusk, and Nana had to come and look for him with the candle because the Boy couldn't go to sleep unless he was there. He was wet through with the dew and quite earthy from diving into the burrows the Boy had made for him in the flower bed, and Nana grumbled as she rubbed him off with a corner of her apron.

"You must have your old Bunny!" she said. "Fancy all that fuss for a toy!"

The Boy sat up in bed and stretched out his hands.

"Give me my Bunny!" he said. "You mustn't say that. He isn't a toy. He's REAL!"

When the little Rabbit heard that he was happy, for he knew that what the Skin Horse had said was true at last. The nursery magic had happened to him, and he was a toy no longer. He was Real. The Boy himself had said it.

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Happy third anniversary, Sweetie! The past three years may not have been fairy-tale perfect, but know that I am blessed that through it all, I had you.

I love you always,

T =)

STAR TURN! =D

Before I move on to the rest of the Bora posts, 'just need to make this yabang. Haha! =D

Check out Hubby Sweet's interview in the Stoked, Inc. site. (Pic also borrowed from the Stoked gallery =).)

Wakeboarding has taken over his (and consequently, my) life. Haha. His star turn. Read on. Click here for the full interview. =)

SLIPPIN' & KICKIN' IN LAGO / FEBRUARY 21,2008 =D

So the Hubby finally got me to take the 3-hour road trip back to Calatagan to watch him wakeboard. While I take sole credit for originally hauling him there (along with cousin Dooders and His-Special-Girl-MJ) because I thought I needed something exciting and new to try out, I pretty much gave up after two tries at the kneeboard. I soon realized wakeboarding ain't for me.

Hubby Sweet, on the other hand, got hooked. So hooked, in fact, that just as some of my friends are turning into golf widows (with their husbands hitting and chasing around a small white ball around vast green fields every Saturday), I have also turned into a weekend-widow-but-of-the-wakeboard-sort. Now, how cool is that?! Haha. =D

I don't go with him every weekend. I used to, but--rightly or wrongly--I have decided that I have better things to do. Besides, with all the late nights at work these days, all I really look forward to during weekends is SLEEP (yes, in BIG, BOLD LETTERS). *Sheepish grin =D* So the Hubby and I made a pact. I can have my regular Saturdays for sleep, House Better visits and whatever-else-errands I need to do for Barrioca and Buster J, but when there's a competition, I would have to find the strength to haul my ass off the couch and go with him to Lago. Hay...=) O, sya, sya. =D

After dropping the boys off at Lolo's and Lola's (haha), I slept all the way through the trip to Lago. I woke up to find the first welcome sight since I've been there last. Lago now has nipa huts/cabanas lining the lake. YEY! I don't have to stay under the intense sun all day. And, yes, if I get sleepy after lunch, I actually have a place to snooze in! Woohoo! =)

Turns out, this trip to Lago will be more enjoyable than the past trips. The Hubby has built himself a group of wakeboard buddies since I was there last, and I enjoyed meeting all of them and finally putting faces to the names (that until then, I would only hear about in his stories). *Run-on sentence alert, haha!* Some of them also brought along their wives, their girlfriends, their kids, etc., etc. Everyone was looking for Buster J and Barrioca. Sadly, dogs are not allowed in Lago. =(

And so, the day was spent alternating between watching Hubby Sweet compete (and taking pics), making tambay & kwento under the coconut trees with the other wakeboarders waiting for their turn, and lounging around in the hut making chismis with Ging (Tricky D's girl friend) and Andie Gurl, this adorable, chinky-eyed 5-year old who chatted me up all day, in between K-Zone reading sessions and teddy-bear-instructional-art-lessons. =D

Still, the priority of the day was to cheer our men on! By the end of the day-long competition (which had all the ambience of a big, barkada, weekend gimmick), wakeboarding guru C-Lo announced that Tricky D had won third place. WOOOOOHOOOOOOOO!!!! (Not bad for his first competition ever. Congratulations, Tricky D! =D) Jesse, the teen wonder, was called in as runner-up. Who emerged as champion of the Happy Thoughts Men's Division?! Why, it's.....it's.....it's....HUBBY SWEET!!! WOOOHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!! *Complete with tears in our eyes, haha! =D*

Congratulations, Sweetie!!!!! Here's to the 2nd and the 3rd Slippin' & Kickin' rounds! =D

Rikivon (the Hubby's bestfriend, Tricky D's neighbor and Georgie's ex-officemate) dropped by later in the afternoon with Evan, yaya and lola in tow. He missed the competition entirely, but managed to take some great pics of all the action that was still taking place when they arrived. He uploaded a video on Multiply and Facebook that pretty much captured the flavor of the day for me. (Great video, Riki! Lagot ka kay Emi. Pinakilala mo si Evan kay Andie Gurl. Mukhang na-in-lab. Haha! =D) Click here to see it. =D

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It just occurred to me, while chatting with some of the wakeboarders under the coco trees, that they wear their injuries like badges. Women's Happy Thoughts Champion, Alma, for e.g., showed me major scars on her legs and regalled me with stories about a 15-minute amnesia brought on by major spill that had her diving head first into the murky Lago waters. The others then proceeded to proudly show me their "battle scars" like it was graduation day and they all graduated at the top of their class. =D

Seeing all those scars reminded me of the BIG gash that Hubby Sweet has running like a snake practically on half of his left leg. He slipped and snagged it on one of the kickers or whatever-else-you-call-those-ramps. In any case, that was his minor injury.

In mid-2008, the Hubby and I spent 3 days and about P50 thou in Medical City where we learned a new medical term. PNEUMOTHORAX. Loose translation: collapsed lung. ACK! The day before, he apparently tried on a vest and snapped on the lumbar support too high and too tightly. Giving the raley a try, he jumped up the ramp, pulled on the cable, breathed deeply to be able to pull his legs up, and because he had on his vest too tight, his left lung was unable to expand properly and instead popped. Did I already say it? Let me say it again. ACK! =( We only found out the day after, with him complaining that the left side of his chest feels like there is a water bag slushing inside him everytime he moves, and that he seems to be getting tired too easily. The X-Ray at Medical City explained everything. There was air, not inside, but outside his lung. Hay! The doctor told us he was lucky because the puncture was not too big so the air release was gradual (think minor flat tire as opposed to a major blow-up), so she hopes that as they monitor and support him with oxygen intake (thus, the 3-day hospital stay), his left lung would be able to "heal itself". If that doesn't do the trick, they would have to operate on him to let the air in the body cavity out and to seal the hole on the left lung. The doctor said if the hole had been any bigger, he wouldn't have made it home because his left lung would have collapsed, causing his right lung to overcompensate and blow up too. Technically, therefore, Hubby Sweet is already on his second life.

After winning the competition last Saturday, Hubby Sweet exclaimed, "Tweet, this is for you! All worth it naman lahat ng sugat and hospital stays, right?" HAHA! Susko. =) But with the Hubby being required to move up to the Men's Open Division (i.e., if he wants to continue competing), it would mean that he now has to seriously master the inverts (yes, the moves that would require him to fly, flip mid-air, and hopefully land on his feet instead of his head). WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!

God protect him.

Heaven help me. Hay! =D

A HOMEY CELEBRATION / JULY 15,2008 =)

In direct contrast to the big-budget, action-packed (from wake/knee-boarding, silly!) anniversary out-of-town trip last year that saw Hubby Sweet and I celebrating our 1st with a run in Lago and with a weekend stay at The Boutique, this year’s anniversary was spent more quietly.

That’s partly due to the fact that a big chunk of the anniversary budget went to the acquisition of Buster J, who has single-handedly made House Pioneer an even greater joy to come home to—despite the occasional poop & pee accidents, and the occasional sleepless periods resulting from him nudging the Hubby and me in the middle of the night to (horrors!) play.

“No more playing, Buster. Time to sleep,” I would mumble, barely awake as I roll him on his back and lull him (!) to sleep with a tummy rub. On occasion, the Hubby and I would be sleeping soundly in a tight embrace, only to be disturbed by a hairy face gently nestling itself on my neck (which would then mean having Hubby Sweet go nose to nose with a mini-Schnauzer, hahaha). It’s Buster Johnson wanting to join the midnight group hug. Suskupo! Hay….=D

Yes, the Hubby can even now officially use the excuse “the dog ate my….” without necessarily lying, after he accidentally left some important business docs by the printer before stepping out, only to find half of it gnawed up to smithereens along with the newspapers that we usually lay out for Buster J’s “comfort needs”. Yes, Buster J has turned House Pioneer upside-down and, for some strange reason, we’re…uh…happy about it. Haha. =D

Now, I had originally wanted to at least take the day off, but the crazy sched in the office made it impossible for me to do so. I had an FGD scheduled at 7:00 a.m., which I decided to skip and delegate in favor of a whole-day meeting with the Marketing Leadership Team and The Boss. And so it goes that Hubby Sweet and I just made arrangements to go with a quiet dinner somewhere we’ve never been to before. Plans to try 22 Prime @ the Discovery Suites were immediately scrapped in light of the MLT meeting and the “fearless forecast” that it would end no earlier than 7:00 p.m. With Serendra just two blocks away, we decided it was the perfect time to try Mamou’s Kitchen.

I have heard only good things about Mamou’s Kitchen. I also heard that they’re into “home-cooking”. It’s just that, I suppose, this type of home-cooking is only usually done in the hallowed halls of society’s upper echelons. Haha! I had mistakenly retained that “Mamou” refers to some elderly tita of the Aranetas, and that the menu served in the restaurant are meals usually served in the the Araneta Center Bahay na Bato (or is it Puti?). Basta, the ancestral home of the Aranetas, the Fores and the Roxases! Being the closet social-climber that I am (haha), that particular bit of trivia intrigued me. =)

The Hubby picked me up at 7:30 p.m. on the dot. Our reservation was for the 8:30 “second serving”. I opened the passenger door to find a huge bouquet of pink carnations, roses, mums and green flowers (I don’t know what they’re called) on a bed of tiny white ones. Love, love, LOVE (!) these kinds of arrangements. I prefer them to the all-rose bouquets. (Oh, but I think I already mentioned that before. =)) It’s just that they seem more fresh. More original. Less ostentatious. =)

We got to Mamou’s Kitchen in time to find some of the smaller tables free, despite the fact that we were about 40 minutes early. Yey! =) Imagine my surprise though to find out that Mamou is sooooo NOT an ancient tita, but a young, 30-something Malou Fores! (Yes, sister-in-law to the Gaita. =)) According to one of the articles posted on the wall, Mamou was apparently a name her nephew used to call her; for some strange reason, he can’t say Malou. Mamou stuck, and the rest, as they say, is history. (Hmmmmnnnn…..now, imagine if I had been culinary proficient! I could open a restaurant named Nangnang or Tita Toy. Haha! Uh…I think not. =))

As with all restaurants in Serendra, Mamou’s Kitchen is practically just a cozy nook that can sit no more than 50 people at a time. It’s both chic and homey with the dark wood and red leather upholstery blending well with the stainless steel counters, the wine bottles, the colorful glass vases and the upright chiller filled with steaks right in the middle of the dining area. I also liked that their tables and chairs were lower than the standard height—instantly raising the uniqueness level a notch higher. (I liked them, of course, because I’m petite. However, since the Hubby, who is 5’10” and all, did not complain, I suppose I can safely assume that it is not an issue with tall people as well. =))

Malou was there when we went. I’ve been told she is actually always there, supervising the kitchen, doing the cooking, running around serving dishes and chatting with the guests—as she would, I suppose, in her own home. The staff was very efficient and friendly. They were also very knowledgeable about the dishes, quickly answering our questions (or quickly running to the kitchen for the correct answers in case they didn’t know.)

Mamou is eager to please. The Hubby and I, for e.g., decided that we wanted to try both the Steak AND the Roast Pork & Chicken—the dishes that Mamou’s Kitchen is most known for. Instead of ordering the “sharing steak” size, therefore, we decided to just go with the single steak size (400g, around 14oz?), which when you think about it is really good enough for two. The steak goes with two sidings, and we decided to pair it with corn pudding and creamy spinach. Thing is, I like my steak medium-rare; the Hubby likes his medium-well. We asked if it was possible to cut the steak in half, and cook each half according to our very different preferences. After checking, the waiter came back and affirmed that, yes, it can be done. Yey! =) Soon after, however, Malou came out of the kitchen and I instantly went into panic mode, thinking that, “Oh, no! She’s going to tell me that cutting the steak up is a sacrilege and that it just ain’t done in the homes of the upper crust!” (Yes,I am prone to over-imagination, hahaha) Malou, however, simply went out to explain that she will not be cutting up the steak because “it’s sayang” so what she will do is cook it first to medium rare, then return the other portion until it is medium-well, etc., etc.. I did not understand much how she was going to do it. I suppose I was just happy that we will be getting what we want without having to sacrifice--as she put it--“the quality” of the steak. =D

Our drinks were served soon after we ordered--in practically no time at all. Watermelon Shake for me. Dalandan Crush for the Hubby. (No, the Hubby and I are NOT wine-drinkers. =)) Taking the first sip from each of our chosen bevs was particularly refreshing. Maybe it was the homey feel despite the obvious air of opulence. Maybe it was the the natural sweet taste of a cool drink after a long and hectic day at work. Maybe it was me and the Hubby out on a "real and proper date" for the first time in, uh, months. Haha. =) The drinks were definitely a good start.

Freshly-baked dinner rolls were served next. There was an option for those who prefer white rolls, as well as for those who prefer whole wheat rolls. Regardless of type, they were all very soft, chewy and warm. At first bite, I’m pretty sure I died and went to bread heaven. The rolls were—to borrow a line from an iconic ad campaign--“Uhmmm…Uhmmm….Good!" (^_^). They were, hands-down, the best dinner rolls I have ever tasted in my life! The Hubby and I finished them off in no time. On her way back to the Kitchen, Malou asked if we would like some more. How I wish I could have said, “YES!”, but I really wanted to leave room for the rest of the meal so I sadly declined. =(

In addition to the main dishes, the Hubby wanted something to warm his tummy. It was, after all, a rainy day. =) He decided to go with a half-order of Oriental Noodle Soup. (I wonder though what they use as reference for the serving sizes as this "half-serving" is actually big enough for the Hubby and me. =)) 'Am not entirely sure what the origin of the recipe was, but I'm guessing Vietnamese judging fromt the rice noodles and the little green stalks that give off a nutty-peppery taste, but I could be wrong because the soup was actually a bit spicy-sour (similar to Tom Yum). While it was good--especially after we added the Chili Sauce that Malou recommended--I suppose I was just not in the mood for soup, so I was not too hot about it. I wanted the meat. The steak. The beef! =D

The main dishes came soon enough and were served after Hubby Sweet finished off his soup. The Steak came first. Wonderfully marbled, perfectly charred, lying in a bed of olive oil and steak drippings. Half was bright red (my portion), while the other was amazingly medium-well. With it came the corn pudding and the creamy spinach. It took all of the Hubby's willpower NOT to devour the steak as I took pictures for the blog. Hahaha. =D

The Roasted Chicken & Pork were actually served almost at the same time, but I'd rather savor the steak first. It was juicy, cooked perfectly. It was the kind that can make you go, "Yes, this is sooooooooo worth it." =) The sidings were OK, but I'd have to be honest about the fact that the next time we go to Mamou's Kitchen, we'd probably order a different set entirely. The corn pudding was good, but it was too sweet to go with the steak. (It was almost like dessert!) The creamy spinach, while good, was also to...uh...creamy for my taste. I needed something to balance and complement the "richness" of the beef, and the sidings we chose were not exactly right for my purpose. That said, I decided to forego the sidings, and chose to eat the steak instead with the red rice and black beans that were served with the Roasted Chicken and Pork.

Ah, yes...the Roasted Chicken and Pork. Citrusy, herby. I can't exactly put my finger on what they put in the marinade to make it taste that good, but yes, it was absolutely divine. One can actually choose to get an all pork or all chicken platter. The Hubby and I unanimously decided that the next time we go, we'd go for the all-pork version. While the chicken was good, the pork is just sooooooo much better. Now, the entire plate did not make for a a pretty picture. I mean, it was a hodge-podge of chicken, pork and a mountain of red rice topped with sweet onions, cinnamon-caramel crusted banana fritters and black beans. It had a definite Cuban influence. Notwithstanding the absence of any hoity-toity foodstyling, there should be no argument here. The Roast Chicken & Pork is a winner! At P395, it was also relatively "budget-friendly". Soooooooooooo good. Sooooooooooo worth it. =)

Now, we had wanted to go for the whole shebang complete with the dessert, but we could not even finish the dishes we ordered. 'Am not sure if we ate too quickly or if we're now used to smaller portions given our new resolve to eat healthier or if the servings looked deceptively manageable until the combination of the different food settled in our stomachs. Before we could finish everything, both the Hubby and I were ready to burst at the seams. (Me more than him, haha...hay....=)) We would therefore have to go back to Mamou's Kitchen another day so that the Hubby can taste the heavenly Pecan Pie (which I had had the good fortune of earlier tasting with The Boss and the MLT), and so I can satisfy my curiousity regarding MK's much-talked-about-and-raved-about Key Lime Pie. =)

So there! A relatively low-key second anniversary celebration. =) The best part is coming home to an enthusiastic Buster J who couldn't stop running to and fro, bouncing up and down in obvious glee that the Hubby and I were home. Yey! =) I tried to get a picture of him with the flowers and the Mamou doggy bag for posterity, but it was all for naught. I couldn't get him to sit still long enough. Hay! Yes, yes. I suppose, he'd really rather get up and smell the flowers. Haha! 'D

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If you want to try out Mamou's Kitchen, it would be best to reserve your seats before you go. For dinner, they have "two seatings". The first is from 6:30-8:20 p.m.; the second is from 8:30-closing time. I don't know what the seating scheds are for lunch.

Call 8563569 or 0917-8162668 for reservations. =)

THE TALE OF THE FISH & THE GOAT / JULY 15,2008 =D

The Hubby once sent me this. He thought it was perfect. That it pretty much summed up who we were (are!) as a couple.

I am a goat. He is a fish.

Fireworks! Hahaha! 'D

I read through it and realized, man, I couldn't agree more! =)

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Romantic Compatibility Provided by: Astrology.com

PISCES & CAPRICORN

When Capricorn and Pisces join together in a love match, on the surface, it may appear to be opposites attracting. Capricorn is down-to-earth and regimented, with a very strong work ethic, while Pisces tends to be more emotional and dreamy, and takes on the needs of those around them. This couple is honest, and can be devoted to one another. They admire one another: Capricorn appreciates Pisces's kind nature, and Pisces is drawn in by Capricorn's quick wit and tenacity.

This relationship may develop slowly, the two not necessarily recognizing its progression. But it will get stronger over time. The Capricorn-Pisces duo can really put their heads together and can be fulfilled by their partner. Difficulties can arise if Capricorn is too dominating for Pisces's sensitive side. Pisces needs to understand that this is Capricorn's style and not a personal attack. Pisces might not take too well to Capricorn's stubbornness, but can deal with it through patience and understanding. Pisces enjoys indulging Capricorn through their desire for domestic bliss, which combines well with Capricorn's need for a neat, tidy home and material goods.

Capricorn is ruled by Saturn and Pisces is ruled by a combination of Jupiter and Neptune. Saturn is the planet of dedication, authority and responsibility. Higher learning, ethics and standards are ruled by Jupiter, while Neptune influences Pisces's view of dreams and illusions. These three Planets complement one another because they have a good sense of compassionate justice and dedication.

Capricorn is an Earth Sign and Pisces is a Water Sign. Earth Signs are about possessions, and the Capricorn-Pisces partners like to surround themselves with material objects that show off their sophistication. The Water Sign relies on emotion and intuition, making the Pisces the fueling force behind the relationship, but in a passive way. Shared love of a comfortable, yet fancy, home life ensures that this couple will aspire to a higher ground.

Capricorn is a Cardinal Sign and Pisces is a Mutable Sign. While Capricorn tends to focus on one project at a time, Pisces floats from one thing to another as the feeling strikes them. Because of their flexibility, Pisces may become interested in Capricorn's projects. In turn, Capricorn needs to allow Pisces to enjoy many things at once and not take it personally when Pisces gets bored with something that Capricorn is focused on. Capricorn will stick with Pisces's pursuits even after they've moved on to something else. In return, Pisces can sometimes show Capricorn that flexibility is better than a strong determination to do things a specific way.

What's the best aspect of the Capricorn-Pisces relationship? It's their unique blend of temperaments. Both partners enjoy sharing their lives with someone else, and both like to help the other achieve their goals. Their difference in temperaments makes theirs a highly compatible relationship.

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Happy 2nd anniversary, Sweetie!

Here's to many, many more to come! =)

I love you always,

T =)

HIS NAME IS BUSTER JOHNSON! / JUNE 25,2008 =D

With our second anniversary coming up in about three weeks, Hubby Sweet and I had to decide on what we were going to do for Anniversary Year 2.

Should we take another trip somewhere?

With us having bought a bigger, more family-sized unit recently (which will only be available in October next year), and with the Baby Project hanging over our heads, however, we knew that all plans for an out-of-the-country trip would have to be deferred. (Goodbye, Beijing Olympics! Waaaaaaaaaahhhhhh!!!).

It would be pretty tough, however, to top the recent butanding experience with another local trip so I thought we'd give travel a rest (FOR NOW =)).

"We should get a dog," I texted the hubby, off the top of my head, "A small one so he won't feel cramped inside the unit."

"Let's name him Johnson," he replied. Haha! 'D (Family joke. Long story. =))

We did not even have a discussion about whether we should get one or not. The Hubby has been bugging me for a dog since last year when they started allowing pets in House Pioneer. (Prior to this, his first ever Christmas gift to me would have been a beagle. At that time, we weren't even BF/GF yet and he did not know that pets were not allowed at my place. Before he could deliver it to me, his best friend Riki, who lived in the other tower, told him that I will not be allowed to keep it. And so it came to past that on that year, Then-Suitor-Pa-Lang-Sweet went home to his provincial ancestral home with beagle in tow--now repositioned as a Christmas gift to his parents. Haha! 'D)


Discussion #1: I wanted a small dog. Hubby Sweet kept telling me to look at pictures of Golden Retrievers, Great Danes, Labradors and, goodness, French Mastiffs! "They're friendly," he said. "Yes," I countered, "They're also bigger than our house."

Discussion #2: I wanted a small dog. Maybe a shih tzu or a pekingese. I grew up with 2 pekingeses who believed they had the same birth right as I did in House Better. Haha! Being royal dogs, pekingeses can be spoiled brats, but they can also be adorable-to-the-max. When Benji and Sugar died (not at the same time of course), we all found ourselves in extreme mourning. Having a pet die in House Better is like having a real member of the family pass away. (There is actually a corner in the garden that we used to call the "Sacred Ground". Every November 1, as kids, we also lit candles for all our dogs who passed away. Haha! 'D) In High School, my friends and classmates would actually laugh because in the middle of class, tears would start streaming down my cheeks. "What's wrong?" they would ask. "Namatay aso ko," I would reply, at which point, they would all guffaw. They just didn't get it.


After Benji and Sugar died, Mother decided she wanted a shih tzu. Her name was Princess and she gave birth to Pattie, Scud, Patriot and Pancho. (They were born during the Gulf war, =)). Pattie got traded off for Trendy (who also answers to Friendly or any other name that ends in "y", haha!). Pattie was a Princess black-&-white carbon-copy; Trendy was brown and white like her mom--who belonged to the same breeder as Pattie's dad. Mother intended to sell off the pups, but only managed to sell one. In the end, she decided she couldn't sell the rest. She loved them too much. Scud was "given as a gift" to my cousin J (who was Mother's inaanak). Pancho was "sold" to our next door neighbors in House Loyola (where I stayed during my college years). They begged (!) to have him, even mounting a "party" on the day we gave Pancho to them. A few months later saw me asking Ate Inday to bring P10,000 back to our neighbors in exchange for getting Pancho back. The novelty of a new pup has gone, and they were not treating him right, and if they will not hold their end of the bargain to treat him like family, they can shove their money up their stupid, mean @*#. Lech. >:\ They accepted the money; we got our dog back. By that time, Pancho had turned from a sweet, adorable pup into a broken, angry, bitter dog. It took some time before we could "heal" the anger out of him. Weeks and months of nurturing eventually made him believe he can "trust" people again. He actually reverted back to his sweet nature, but you just know he was never really the same. To the very end, he was sweet only to us, but no longer to those he considered as non-family or strangers. Hay.... =(

In between the pekingeses and the shih tzus were the mongrels (among them JInky! =)), a japanese spitz (Snowball, of course! haha) and Buttons (who was part shih tzu, part maltese, "purong aso" hahaha). We loved them all like family. (Sorry, couldn't post pics of the rest. The pics are in House Better and I haven't scanned them yet!)

Did I digress? =D Anyway!

I wanted small dog, but the Hubby did not want a pekingese nor a shih tzu. He suspected (quite correctly) that he would end up walking the dog more often than I would, and he did not want to walk around with a "frou-frou" kind of dog at the end of his leash. Hahaha! 'D O, sya, sya. =D After researching online, we finally chanced upon the one dog that seemed perfect for our situation. A mini schnauzer. Yes, we decided, we will get a mini-schnauzer. =) (Click on the link if you want to know why we decided on it. =))

Everyone, meet BUSTER JOHNSON!!! =D

We found Buster online through a link in Pet Finder. =) We did not want to get a dog from a pet shop, believing that dogs raised by breeders are not only of better quality, they would also tend to be more loved. We found Chico-Poms, and among all the rest, I was most impressed by the fact that before they answer your queries about the dog you want to purchase, they actually ask you a series of questions about the conditions under which you will be raising the dog you intend to buy. They wanted to make sure that their puppies will only go to good homes, they said. "Soul mates!", I thought. Haha!

We got a quick reply from K soon after I submitted our forms. We went to see our pup on the same day we got the reply. We brought him home that same night.

After a quick trip to Tiendesitas for a few essentials (and quite a few non-essentials, haha), we finally arrived in House Pioneer for Buster's first night in his new home. YEY! =)

By the time we got him, however, he was already 4 months old and already knew his name to be Buster. Johnson would therefore have to be relegated to his second name. BUSTER JOHNSON. Parang goon. Haha! 'D

He was shy at first, but eventually warmed up, walking around the unit, probably wondering about what strange place he has found himself in. His nails clicked on the wood laminate all night as he alternately walked around, stopped, and run around playing with the Hubby's old tennis balls. Not used to having another living thing in House Pioneer other than each other, the all-night clicking on the floors kept Hubby Sweet and I up all night. Hay....It was like having a little baby, except that this one did not cry. =) I was practically a zombie at work the following day. It did not help that everyone kept on asking me, "Puyat ka?" HAHAHA! Ack. =)

During our visit to the OB last week, our OB told us NOT to get a dog before we have a child. She said there was no scientific evidence for it, but she suspects couples get distracted too much by the dog, they forget about getting down to the business of having a child. Haha! After the first night, I would have to consider this as practice. Man! How could I not?! =D

Early the following day, I heard from Hubby Sweet the one thing I have also once heard from Sister Pusjing and Cousin Tiririt about their respective husbands, G-Genius and cousin-in-law V.

"Tweet," he said, looking confused, apologetic and hopeful all at the same time, "uh.....nag-poop sya."

I was in the bathroom brushing my teeth at the time. "So? Pick it up," I said, not really understanding what the big deal was.

"I don't know how to pick up poop."

Yeah, right! HAHAHA!

Hay!

Men....! =D

MEDALS & HONORS / JUNE 14,2008 =D

There are a million and one things to write about. I definitely won't miss writing about this. The Hubby is a silver surfer. Haha. OK, technically, he did not surf. he wakeboarded his way to second place in the Men's Intermediate Division of the Lago de Oro Perpetual Cup 2008. WOOOOHHHOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Being the stupid wife that I am, I tried to capture his run on video, only to find out much later that I did not have enough back-up memory. ARGH!!! Darn. >:\

In any case, I suppose the run would just have to live on in everyone else's memory--with the run including the single most daring intermediate move made on the "wall" that day. As the wakeboarders would say after an awesome maneuver, that was TOTALLY SICK! Haha. =D

So never mind the gold. I've always been a staunch advocate of the "Tin Cup" mentality. (Tin Cup, you know? As in Kevin-Costner-Renee-Russo-Tin-Cup? Haha! 'D) Years later, very few would remember who won which medal, but that move on the wall will be remembered for years to come.

Congratulations, Sweetie!!! Here's to the Men's Open next year!

WOOOOOOHOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! =D

V-DATE! =) / FEBRUARY 14,2008

An officemate asked me yesterday if I was the type who would make a big deal out of Valentine's. 'Got me thinking. Uh.......NO. Hahaha! 'D

The question, however, made me realize that during My Wander Years (haha), I only made a big deal out of V-Day whenever I'm single & unattached, during which all my other single friends and I would literally band together and celebrate...uh...friendship (haha! 'D) or whenever I'm single-but-being-pursued (in which case, I will either go out if I liked the guy OR hide and pretend that I'm sick just to avoid being seen with someone I don't particularly fancy on THE day-of-all-days! Hahaha! 'D

Being in a relationship this and the succeeding V-Days for the rest of my life (Naks! Haha. =)), yesterday was officially a No-Date-Day for Hubby Sweet and me. I left the office early, but only because I did not want to run into the expectedly horrendous traffic on Boni High Street and Serendra. It was a marked difference, considering that I usually go home 7:00 p.m. at the earliest. Yesterday, I apparently got home too early. Haha! 'D

Expecting me to be home no earlier than 7:30 p.m., I opened the door a little after six to find the Hubby frantically taking off the "cups" from the roses that seem to have just been delivered. I walked down the hall to find a kitchen in total disarray. All the burners on the stove were lit. Soup was bubbling in one corner, even as the store-bought gravy was simmering in the mini-casserole. Mushrooms and garlic were sauteing in one pan (filling the air with the delicious garlic smell that I love), even as the grill-pan was being prepared to be heated on the big fire. On the counter laid four rib-eye steaks, surrounded by a bottle of olive oil, a set of salt & pepper shakers, a can of canned corn kernels and margarine. At his desk, the laptop was on-line, playing a video: How to Prepare and Enjoy Your Rib-Eye Steak.

I had walked into the makings of an in-home V-Date! Haha! Wow. =D

The pics may not look like much and would never stack up against all the other food-styled steaks @ Prince Albert or Highlands Steakhouse. Still, I don't think anyone will argue with me that these rib-eyes are among the most priceless I have ever tasted--notwithstanding the fact that they were served in mismatched plates, cut with mismatched utensils, and notwithstanding the fact that the side dishes were served in different-sized microwaveable containers. Haha! 'D

Happy V-Day, Sweetie!

I love you. =)

MWAH! '*

OUR PERFECT IMPERFECT WEDDING: PART 5 / JULY 15,2006

Happy Valentine's Day! Hahaha! Man, I ought to be shot. =) I received mail from Angel AAze the other day complaining that I haven't been updating my blog. (I have a fan! Yey! Haha. =)) Truth is, my computer (or server) has been on the blink lately. I can't access B! Hmp. Today, apparently, is my lucky day. =)

After reading through my blog--and passing by my blog on Bu & G--I went on a sentimental trip and re-read my blogs about our own wedding. I then realized I forgot to post the last in my-own-wedding series! Haha! (It is, BTW, a repost from my now-defunct Friendster blog. =)) If you want to read Parts 1-4 (for whatever reason, haha), just go to the Sweety & Tweety Milestones folder. =)

Here goes......=)



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The rest of the ceremony went smoothly. Surprisingly, the church wasn't as hot as I thought it would be. If there's anything that my church coordinators got right, it was at least remembering to have a fan directed at us during the entire ceremony. I remember The Hubby & I having a discussion about it. While I also loved the Nuestra Senora, I dreaded the idea of having to go through the entire ceremony wearing a full gown in it. I was concerned that I would end up fainting from heat exhaustion. My cousin got married in the same church. I thought I'd die from the heat at that time--and I was wearing a backless top back then!


Flashback to August 2005 when Hubby S & I were going around Metro Manila, trying to look for the "perfect venues", matching churches with possible reception places. At that time, we still had the illusion that we could keep the entire budget below P250 thousand. HAHAHAHAHA!!! Yeah, right! We rid ourselves of that delusion soon enough. Hehe. Sanctuario de San Antonio was on the list, but it was a nominal one. Being non-parishioners, we would not be allowed to hold our wedding during weekends. Weekends, apparently, were reserved only for the jetset crowd. We were adamant about a Saturday wedding though--to give family and friends every single chance to attend both the ceremony and the reception. We also wanted an afternoon ceremony so dinner won't be too late. Sanctuario de San Antonio was therefore--for all intents and purposes--out. I was all for a Sanctuario San Jose / Edsa Shangri-La match-up. San Jose was simple, but it was airconditioned. Edsa Shang would always be special; it was where The Hubby & I first met up. He wanted us to visit the churches together though before finalizing our choice. One Saturday was reserved for "church-hunting".


Being in the vicinity (although I don't remember anymore why we were in the vicinity), we decided to take a peek at the church in the reclamation area (I forgot what its name was), but decided against it. Mapped against the bay horizon standing seemingly in the middle of nowhere on that particular misty Saturday morning, it looked--for lack of a better word--lonely. The Manila Cathedral and San Agustin were never considered. Their popularity had worked against them because I did not relish the idea of having to rush through my ceremony because another couple was already waiting in the wings for their turn. We briefly toyed around with the idea of getting married at the Malate Church (where my parents got married), but quickly decided against it after flashbacks of the horrendous Saturday traffic in the vicinity. We drove to San Jose in Greenhills next. A wedding was on-going. Perfect, I thought. Kiko was only half-convinced. He did not particularly like the idea of getting married in a church inside an exclusive village. I stifled my protest, choosing to remember instead that it makes sense for us to make the choice together. "Off to Don Bosco then," I told him, deciding in my mind that it was going to be a Don Bosco-New World match-up after all. Navigating through the Saturday EDSA traffic, however, I nonchalantly pointed to a side street at the corner of The Loyola Chapels. "There's a small church somewhere on that street," I said almost unnoticeably. "Then, let's check it out," Kiko said, turning on the eskinita, before I could even protest that the church is too hot for an afternoon wedding. Needless to say, we never got to Don Bosco. As soon as he saw the Nuestra Senora, Hubby Sweet refused to look at any other church! No ifs. No buts. "This is it, Tweet!" he said. Eh alangan namang sabihin kong sa San Jose ko gusto, sa Guadalupe siya. Mali. Patay! Hahaha. 'P


Fast-forward to the present. I'm glad we chose this particular church. It was perfect for the kind of wedding that we wanted. Not too big that it would seem hollow, but big enough to hold all our family & friends. The slight drizzle on that particular day, in hindsight, made the temperature inside the church bearable.


"Francis and Eileen, now that you have received the Holy Sacrament of Matrimony, I admonish you to remain faithful to one another," Fr. Gerry declared, signaling that the mass was about to come to its conclusion.


"Eileen, love your husband and be a good wife. Persevere in faith and love and holiness. Francis, love your wife as Christ loves his Church, and live with her in the holy fear of the Lord," he continued, "The Lord be with you."


"May he bless you by the word of His mouth."


"May he unite your hearts in an enduring bond of pure love."


"May you be blessed in your children, and may the love that you lavish on them be returned a hundredfold."


"May the peace of Christ dwell in your hearts and in your home. May you have true friends to stand by you, both in joy and sorrow."


"May you be ready with help and consolation for all those who come to you in need, and may the blessing promised to the compassionate descend in abundance on your house."


"May you be blessed in your work and enjoy its fruits. May care never cause you distress nor desire for earthly possessions lead you astray, but may your hearts' concern be always for the treasures laid up for you in heaven."


"May the Lord grant you fullness of years so that you may reap the harvest of a good life and after you have served Him with loyalty in His kingdom on earth, may He take you up into His eternal dominion in heaven."


With a smattering of "amens" from our guests after every blessing bestowed, Fr. Gerry finally gave his final blessing, "And may Almightly God bless you all. In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit."


AMEN!!! Yahoo!!! 'P


You-may-now-kiss-the-bride-portion na! Yehey!!! We turned to Fr. Gerry, waiting for the signal (hahaha!), but instead of giving us the go-ahead, he beamed at us, turned his back and asked us to follow him to the altar. "Ha?" I thought, "Ba't hindi pa you-may-now-kiss-the-bride????!!!!!" Hahaha. Slightly puzzled, we followed him nonetheless.


On the altar, the Church manong laid the marriage certificates. Oh. I see.....


"Each of you has to sign first to finally seal your intention to be married," Fr. Gerry explained, "I will only sign after you do. Please check that all the details are accurate....Una na kayo," he kidded, "Pag pinirmahan ko na yan, wala na talagang urungan." Hahaha.


I attempted to double-check the details, but could honestly, at that point in time, not process any of the words written on the sheet. My name could have been spelled Torkwata Manule and I still would have signed the darn thing! Hahaha. Fortunately, I have actually proofread the document a few weeks earlier when I submitted all the requirements to Ate Inday, the church secretary. I just trusted that I was signing the exact same document on that day.


I signed off first. Kiko signed off next. Fr. Gerry asked us a final time if we wanted him to sign it. We laughed and said yes. And so, he finally did.


"Now, you're married!" he declared, and ushered us back to the front of the sanctuary. (Ganun?! Does that mean the ceremony was for pure entertainment purposes? Hahaha! JOKE! =))


Hubby Sweet and I stood side-by-side in front of all our guests, beaming.


"Francis," Fr. Gerry admonished, "you may now kiss your bride."


Finally! Haha! 'P

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P.S. - Dear God, thanks for all the love and the peace and the work and the help and the friends and the consolation and the compassion and the fruits and the abundance and all the other blessings you have sent our way. Still, I'd like to make one more request. Would You mind sending some of the children we asked for our way soon? Haha! =D