Valentines Day.

Found photo. February 2012. Manila

A man reserves his true and deepest love not for the species of woman in whose company he finds himself electrified and enkindled, but for that one in whose company he may feel tenderly drowsy.

George Jean Nathan (I'd feel the same way, if I were a man. But is that ever enough?)

Love, S.

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 I spent the first few moments of Valentines day in the callroom, getting an endorsement from Dave, my Junior Resident on-duty regarding a patient he saw at the ER. Love-related. 'Happens everytime...', I went. Won't be doing much this Valentines Day... but I'll be watching Mamma Mia tomorrow night with my best friend and her family. Pretty good timing. 


I have nothing against Valentines Day, in fact, I love the whole commercial success of it all. not really. I'm glad some people still believe in it though...I need some form of mild remedial classes in it, though, although I'm still a case of the hopeless romantic heebie-jeebies. So help me. 

The Vday Series: A different perspective

After a long (and I do mean long), I went home and crashed on the couch… literally. I woke up a little disoriented, and hungry…and craving for Baked Zitti with meat sauce from Sbarro. Specifically. 

The sun had set and my plans of going for a walk and casually taking pictures (of people on the street mostly,of course) were dashed, and I instead decided to go run some errands and finally buy those folders like I had planned all week.

The National Bookstore was crammed with the regular paper-loving crowd… Valentines’ Day themed décor was all over the place. I suppose Valentines’ Day preparations were in full swing by now, considering “D-Day” is next week. I chuckled to myself. Hearts and red were all the rage, and there were stands everywhere selling everything from buttons to heart-shaped boxes to well, Valentines’ Day whatnot.

I somehow wandered onto a stand with a couple of self-help books on it. “Lovedecisions: A dad talks to his daughter about love relationships”. I remembered wrinkling my nose. I have a weird aversion for self-help books, because I’ve always thought that they’ll only say what you want to hear. Perhaps it is my stubbornness, or my impression that these kinds of writers just want to make a quick buck,  but really, I don’t know the real reason why I don’t really like them.  Still, I got curious… I’m a daddy’s girl kind of girl , but my father and I never talk about boys. Not as a lifetime partner or relationship or anything like that. Maybe in retrospect yes, but I don’t feel comfortable enough talking to my father about boys I currently date. (I think he’s pretty strict, which helps sometimes, especially when I don’t like the guy.)

I got a text message from one of my co-residents asking about dinner.  I was supposed to meet someone earlier, but it didn’t fall through, so I said yes. (And yes, I had him go over to Sbarro because of that silly post-nap craving I had.) Anyway, yes, I DID order baked Zitti with meat sauce. We were just hanging out, so it was kind of cool. He was supposed to stay off carbs, I found out later, but anyway, it was ok.

The conversation got down to Valentines’ day, and he asked if I had any plans. Apparently, he was organizing a “Singles Night” kind of thing with us single people in the call room, as there were a few of us there. I told him about one time when I had to brave the Valentines Day throng of people in MOA (The SM Mall of Asia) one Valentines Day. It was my friend Floyd’s birthday, and he was inviting med school friends, me included for dinner at Racks. I didn’t know where Racks was at first, so I had to go looking for it, and that meant running into Valentines Day revelers, of all forms and sizes…and ages.

There were couples in “couple shirts”, girls bringing all sorts of flowers, most of them bouquets. There were lola and lolo types wearing the same color shirt (98% of them were wearing red), there were whole families celebrating Valentines day together (all three generations, mind), couples were wearing “arrow shirts”, i.e. “mama/papa” and all that… nevermind. 

Valentines’ day is not really a big thing for me, I suppose, as I am kind of jaded. I recounted my above experience to RG as seeing Valentines as almost comical, a highly-commercialized holiday that was only propagated to increase horticultural and stationery sales the world over. Defensive, aren’t I? Well, I suppose. In my less than prolific dating history, or flower-receiving history, I had either had someone I liked give me the roses that I wanted (but he ended up breaking my heart), I had a friend give me roses (but I didn’t like him), and I had someone I really liked give me…well, let’s just say it has been only a partially-satisfying receiving history, and it seems I haven’t gotten it out of my system yet…

Anyway, RG laughed when I told him that story in my usual zany way, and then he told me that he had at one time during Valentines’ day, when he was getting flowers for his then girlfriend. He was at Farmers’ Market on Valentines Day, with a bunch of other guys who were also getting flowers for their ladies. The place was jam-packed, and everyone was hurrying, but surprisingly, there was not an irate customer in sight, he said. He told me that there seemed to a collective feeling of excitement and, well peace, as every guy there was happily content waiting their turn, eagerly awaiting their chance to get the blooms they had ordered to please their lady love.

(Oh boy, here’s another romantic. Haha.)

I suppose that was it, if you were doing something for someone you really loved, then nothing would be too corny, nor too burdensome for you to make the effort. I sincerely believe that. So it got me thinking, that even though I won’t be spending Valentines Day as a…ahem Corny holiday, at least I’ll be able to see things from a different perspective this time, that, well, people, when in love just want to make the people they love happy too.

And that’s good enough for me.

Love,

S.

P.S. Off the record? white roses mean “I’m worthy of you.”  Now those, I wouldn’t mind having for Valentines Day. :-)

Valentine ditty.

Cliche.

No, I didn't get flowers.

 

but i did have frozen mango margarita with The Queen and The Princess at Central. ;-)

It being February 14, and my friend Floyd inviting a bunch of us to his birthday party, I found myself wandering around the Mall of Asia (MOA) amid all the valentine revelers. (It seems, even on this day, Jollibee was a place to take your "special someone" too. lol...)

Lovers, in all shapes and sizes were there. Families, in all shapes and sizes were there too. 

An elderly couple even went with the red theme. ;-)

It was Valentines' Day, and thanks to commercialism, everyone felt like they had money to burn.

(Or maybe I'm just bitter that I didn't get flowers? LOL)

I swear, if i keep at this, i'm going to end up like her. 

There were couples of all ages and sizes, and the girl would almost always be carrying either a single rose, or a bouquet. Or there would be a couple wearing his and hers shirts... The atmosphere seemed to permeate of amore... Still, i wasn't convinced. There was this one couple, both wearing red shirts, the lady carrying a bouquet of pink roses and the dude...well, she was holding onto his arm pretty tight. I noticed him check me out, and i was like..."Yeah, right." 

Valentines' Day...Bah, Humbug!

:-p

(Ok, enough already.)

Anyway, I found my friends over at Racks, and i had some delish babyback ribs. (That's FLoyd, the birthday boy. He's showing his laryngoscope (he's an Anesthesia resident) off to Jerry (a surgical resident) on the other side of the table.)

Joe and Tope got there at almost 10PM, caught in the traffic jam caused by the big V Day. natch.

A fun dinner, all in all. :-)

I was the one with the camera, so I took this shot of everyone who went, while we were all waiting to hail a taxi. :-)

I got off near Yin's place, and I walked home alone, but it wasn't bad at all, 'cause my place is near the amll, and it's safe enough to walk to, with guards (sleeping or otherwise, haha)  posted every few meters. 

All in all, even if I didn't get to join in with all the mush of Valentines' Day, I had a lot of fun.

My thought while walking? Well... I just thought, that I should be pretty optimistic in the love department. Great  things take time. And I wasn't planning on settling for just anything.

:-p

Trina didn't. And she's every bit as happy as a chirpy little chipmunk.

(That's the chocolate cake that came with the serenade from the Frat Boys of the nearby Medical School.)

Now, i'm not really into showy, touchy feely love stuff, but i wouldn't mind the attention at all.

or flowers.

But food, and buns with creamy yema centers?

I don't mind them at all. They weren't for Valentines' day, but hey, who doesn't like freebie food (from special people?)

:-)

Hope you all had great Valentines' Day stories to tell!

love, 

S

Dear Boy...

Just between you and me...

(no, wait, just between me and my blog audience, but not you)

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I

 

thee.

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Until further notice.

Right?

:-p

(Too bad you don't read my blog...but this is a secret i'm keeping, though, 'cause you can't ever know. :-()

Cupid should have scratched you, dear.

(Ataya uy.)

P.S. In the first few seconds i see you and then you smile, and i know it's all mine, i get little butterflies inside and i feel like the guy in Bad English.

So yes, you guessed it. I still do have a crush on you.

(Somebody stop me, already.)

A few minutes with you would be more fun than that "SIngles Mingle" party that my senior resident is inviting with me to. Who cares about other hot guys in a party? Can't i have you instead? lol.

Happy Valentines' Day.

~ S.

Red Sleeves (and other mundane personal Valentine Notes)

 If somebody likes you, it's no good unless he likes you all the way.:-p

*****

I avoid left-handed Aquarians like the Plague. And soon, probably February-borns too. (I'm talking about Boys here, by the way.:-p)

*****

I never really was a boyfriend-needy girl. I mean, I'm more often single than in a relationship. It just how I rolled. When you grow up with boys (like I did), you get so comfortable with them, you'll treat them as friend material unless they really stand out.

***** 

When I was 8, I wrote a boy a love note and dropped it off at his mother's office, who worked in an office space just down the hall from my mother's. When she asked if i wrote it, i denied it was me. of course. haha.

******

To welcome Valentine's Day, one of the nurses I worked with brought food enough to feed 10 people ('cause that was the number of staff at the hospital where I worked that night.)...it was so nice and spontaneous, it was almost like Christmas. :-)

*******

I once dated someone who was born on February 14, ironically, eventually, he wasn't the epitome of love, he was more of a Janus*. lol. I don't hate him or love him... I'm over the nasty break-up heart-wrenching drama, thankfully. In the end, we find that the opposite of love is not hate, but indifference, anyway. It was a chapter,and although an educational one, I'm glad it's finally closed.

(* Janus = who, if he had two heads to see past and future, must also have had two hearts, presumably.)

*****

When I was younger and still in Iloilo, I sat on a couch and talked the whole night away with a person on the opposite end of it who made my heart do occasional flutters and fibs... made my tummy ache from laughing, made my face hurt from all the smiling and made my spirit light as a feather, and my soul as peaceful as...(how do I describe it?) the restful sleep of someone who knows she doesn't have to do 24 hour duty the next day.^

He briefly squeezed my hand when he said goodbye and I wrote him a letter once. He was a great guy. I haven't seen him since, but still, he is a nice memory.

(^ To an overworked doctor, a full night's sleep...with no obligations or 24 hour duties the day after, is like heaven. Peace like heaven.)

*******

Falling in (and out of) love is a time- and energy-consuming process. I can only fall in love with one boy at a time...and take a year to get over one when it falls apart. (Which is why I'm so terribly picky. :-))

******

My bestfriend's boyfriend once told her, "I'm torn between you and my liberty...", with the choice being a non-issue with him until he met her. For me, though, the mythical "The One" would be someone I would not need to give up my liberty for, but instead someone I feel I could share it with. :-)

******

I'm not perfect, so I'm not looking for Mr. Perfect. I'm just a good girl. :-)

*******

For a while, I've always thought of finding true love as like one day looking in a mirror and realizing you like your own smile...who would've thought that you were six years old and having your permanent teeth come out too big for your head/face would have you end up this way in your twenties? Everything you go through has an essential purpose, with everything falling into place when the time is right.

********* 

A great guy (a keeper!) is like high-heeled strappy sandals or pumps, beautiful ones. One that just "grabs" you...one that you can't stop thinking about after you try to pass it by in the mall. One that, when you try it on, just feels right and goes with anything you have...and comes in the your size (believe me, for someone with 8.5-9, like moi, this is hard to find.) and fits perfectly. And when you buy it, it makes you feel and look good and beautiful, and adds a spring to your step and a sassiness to your whole demeanor...like a great guy would. :-p

*********

I'm easy to please. I like holding hands,hugs and kisses, pink roses... oh, and guys with a big vocabulary, knowledge of good literature, athleticism,reasonable cooking skills, a good sense of  humor, considerable height, entertainment value, a guy who can roll with the punches, likes kids and babies, believes in occasional laissez-faire (for moody times), can make things happen, can take care of you and has pink gums... would really seal the deal. (Like I said, I'm easy to please. ;-) haha)

*******

On Valentine's Day morning, a woman in labor just shows up while I'm on duty, without a record of a prenatal check-up (which is never good), no labs, no ultrasound, was multiparous and home-delivered on others, (and with no proper endorsement from her midwife as to why she was just referred) at the hospital. Cord prolapse (which occurs in 0.6% of deliveries) happened and let's just say I only managed to save one person of the duo after everything I did.

It was a sad morning, a red table, and it broke my heart.

********

The concept of " Red sleeves" was taken from the Lyrics of One Republic's song, Secrets. It talked about how there was a need for something to confess, until one's sleeves have turned red. I took it as being too honest to the point of wearing one's heart on one's sleeve everyt ime and running the risk of it being painfully broken...thus staining your sleeves...but you didn't need that explanation, right?:-p I hope you guys had a great Valentine's Day...it is meaningful to a select group of people. Don't count me in yet. LOL. My parents drove 2 hours to pick me up from work, allowed me stops to take pictures of things (yey!) we passed by (including the picturesque cemetary) in one of the towns we passed by), I went out for dinner with friends and family, but declined a date.  That's about it...how'd yours go?

Sorry about the brief Sabbatical...I felt I needed to recharge and take a break...I needed to have some alone time...

~ S.

PROM

(My thoughts on prom 3 years ago...a entry in an older blog, which came to mind when my friend C. wrote about his own prom experiences. :-p A reminder that when you're young, things are still quite fuzzy and confusing, and everything really does get better in some ways as you grow older. :-))

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Wednesday, 18 July 2007

Prom

She laid her head on his shoulder, her hair in gentle curls, her dress was short and pretty, with a flouncy skirt…. All pink and white, with threads of silver running through it. A big white orchid corsage on her wrist and white heeled slip-ons on her feet completed her baby doll look… It was prom night, and they had just been  picked as prom king and queen. He had on a Beige/ cream suit, matching her, and very fetching.

They danced the slow dance, and everyone's eyes were on them.

*sigh*

A prom dress…and how you feel about it, is a powerful thing. It could make or break you.

 Or at least, that was what I thought when I was 15…And boyish, and vulnerable, and gawky, going through the uncertainty of puberty, and desperately wanting to be “pretty” and “beautiful” enough as...

 Oh, I was in the student government, I was editor in chief of the paper, I got up to nationals in contests, and people knew who I was on campus,  but, essentially, on prom night, those things didn’t matter at all, for your girlish gauge of what is “beautiful” will always be… how pretty you feel in your new dress or whether the boy of your dreams asks you to dance.

I remember sitting in the sidelines that night, while those chosen were dancing the cotillion, looking at how the lights reflected delicately on their shimmering dresses and how their smiles were lighting up their pretty faces. The feeling of not being chosen does something to break a little girl’s teenage heart, somewhat. They got chosen, and you weren’t…

 I remember looking at some of my classmates who had their dresses made especially for the event, and sighing wistfully, “It would have been nice to come in a dress like that…” My own dress was a rich blue-green colored number, but it wasn’t mine, and it wasn’t of my own choosing. “One doesn’t necessarily need to spend so much for something that’s just going to be a one-night affair,” I was told. 

The good memory of a prom night dress has to be sacrificed for the essential practicality. “After the prom, what will you do with the dress?”

It was a fun night, nonetheless. I was buoyed by the confidence of being around people whose company I enjoyed …they still are my friends up to this day. But still, to the awkward girl who just desperately wanted to shine, maybe a nicer dress would’ve been just the right thing.

I don’t think I ever really outgrew that need, you know.

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I've always liked the process of growing up...the improvement process may be confusing, and oftentimes pretty embarrassing, but then when everything's said and done, you become thankful for the experiences you've learned. You eventually learn your own way by feel, you discover what it is you really want, and even the body parts you wait for will eventually grow out on their own in the form you want them to. (haha). 

Puberty was bad...I had the "family zits", my boobs didn't grow out until I was 16, I was skinny as heck in high school and I had the craziest hair...Bottomline is, there has to be a state of awkwardness first that you have to go through with before you can be comfortable in your own skin.

 (However, unlike the rest of my body parts, C., I have always loved public speaking. haha. *connect!*)

Video: Fidelity

Regina Spektor's Fidelity is on heavy rotation, on my player, at least.

It's always safer to "break the fall".