Thrice of Me to Love, Thrice the Love to Give

Pre-Weekend Come & Go

Meeting up w/ The Contessa is never boring, because it seems --at least from her anecdotes-- her own life rarely is. Many a time she had to learn the hard way about how "you never really know a guy until he's trynna get in your pants."

This Thursday night was our first meeting since last year's Quiz Night, and boy was there a lot to catch up on. In between her bites of ravioli laced w/ truffle oil and my salty crab sammich, tales of intrigue, money, betrayal, disappointment, outrageous spending, forbidden text messages, awkward confrontations, and breakups were shared. And all this was on her end. All I had was, "Well, she likes Nicholas Cage," and "She thinks I'm too smart for her?!?"

She also gets me to try new things, like Quiz Night or Smashed Potatoes, and my experience w/ the former definitely beat the latter. This time it was karaoke, and at the risk of sounding like a foreigner, it's the first time that I'll be doing this in The Philippines. (KTV was one of 3 things I first experienced abroad, along w/ getting drunk and passing a kidney stone.) After our gelato dessert we went to Red Box to pass the time while waiting for the rest of her friends, like Rhea who joined us after we ordered the comp drinks (though at P498 per head I'd call it really expensive SML and Coke Lite) and finished our renditions of Jay Chou and Barenaked Ladies songs. Unfortunately I had to leave "early," missing their subquent nightcap at M Cafe.

* * *

Tonight was special for me. I finally introduced 2 of my Favorite People to one another. They are fellow bibliophiles, movie-geeks and fans of British period dramas. All that and they traded girly shopping stories, too. This encounter can only by rivaled by Siskel's first meeting of Ebert, Scooby Doo to Shaggy, and to some extent Thelma & Louise, sans that suicide run ending. (Spoiler alert.)

We met up at the Shang Mall and in between bites of Wham! Burgers, one told her tale of horror working in the glossy publishing world. Water-cooler summary of this could be Dilbert-meets-Cathy-meets-The Devil Wears Prada (minus Anna Wintour's competence).

This morning she had just finished meeting w/ her bosses and came out unscathed, w/c was more than anyone could say about her immediate boss, an old-hand socialite who (IMO) is threatened by this young upstart, not appreciating the irony that she had a crusty old hand in her being hired in the first place. For every disparaging accusation of lack of professionalism, my friend deflected then w/ Brandon Routh Superman-like grace, only she used facts instead of her eyeball to stop the proverbial bullet(s). It didn't hurt that her boss's boss more or less took my friend's side, w/ almost The Apprentice-style tactics. ("Come sit next to me," her boss's boss said to her.")

After hearing her story both Lola and I encouraged her to stay longer, in only to see if she can outlast that big ball of Crazy called her boss.

Saturday Set-Ups & Sunday Weddings

SATURDAY: Imagine being in your early 30s and accompanied by both parents (and a cousin close to your age for "buffering") to meet a girl your mom's friend's friend wants to set you up with. As a beginning scene to a rom-com movie this would not have even left the story-pitch stage for its sheer complicated nature, but does get points for awkward scenario potential.

And true enough, as we all stood inside the ground floor Shang Mall, met w/ Ma's friend and her friend and that friend's mother and daughter (the kai siao) and all the introductions were made, the first awkward silence crept in. Coffee, anyone? There's Dome! Let's get some sammiches!

Whew, silence averted. We put together three tables but split into 2 groups by age. After the lady-of-the-hour (and her mom) came back from the ladies'-of-the-hour room we got to ordering and talking. The early dinner of sausages and sammiches went fairly well. She works in IT and is into photography, having recently upgraded her digital slr. Laughs were shared and expressed at the right jokes. "Western humor" (paraphrasing Ma) was not repelled w/ awkward pauses. Plus points. And she lives relatively nearby. Still learning to drive, though.

SUNDAY: My role as designated Sunday driver wall called out again, but this time it was for a family wedding of sorts. I'm barely related to Christopher Michael Uy (he's my first cousin's cousin-- that what they mean by once removed?), but I was keen to see old faces and schoolmates from my SJCS days. And as (my) luck would have it, I saw some not-so-friendly faces, like Venusian almost-blind-date from last September. Seems the awkwardness carried over from yesterday.

But back to the friendly faces. Charlotte (also Chris' cousin) was back in town --apparently since March-- and broken up w/ her Amerasian bf. Chris' awesome sisters Charmianne and Marichelle flew in from Philly and Ohio, respectively. Last time I saw both ladies Chris was my high school Chinese History teacher more than a decade ago, when they all lived in the same house in Kanlaon Street. For some reason I remember Achi Char being a lot taller (we're actually almost the same height), w/c was why I didn't recognize her when I first saw her at the church. Good thing she approached me first to jog my memory.

The entertainment provided at the reception in Century Seafood was unlike any I've ever seen at such events. Two ladies wearing might-as-well-be tights danced onstage before the principal sponsors were introduced. (they danced again during mealtime.) Oh-kay. With the newlywed's dance number Chris' expressionless countenance was doing its best Vulcan impression, as he was too busy counting his choreographed moves to crack a smile. Sigh, I love the man and he can bust'a move when needed, but I swear you can use his face to illustrate in dictionaries the definition of "stoic." As for the AVPs we were treated to Chris' holiday vacation pix while Go the Distance from Disney's Hercules Soudtrack playing in the background. There has got to be a cliche wedding song playlist out there I can tear up, burn and bury in my backyard.) Even his employee got into the act, literally, sporting pink barongs as The Singing V (for "Visaya") Group.

Note to Sound Guys: the romantic aspect of Chris serenading his new wife for the first time w/ John Denvers You Fill Up My Senses accompanied by his playing acoustic guitar was kinda diminished when you had him wear a headset microphone, making him look like he was either gonna sell her that guitar or go control airline traffic at NAIA afterwards.

Loved Charmiane's congratulatory speech, as she spoke in crisp, clear Mandarin and English. Having a script in her hands also helped, w/c is more than I can say for the Best Man's "speech."

And where was I? Well, since my parents were the ones officially invited and not moi, I had to look for my own seat. But even if the seating arrangement wasn't strictly enforced and there were 3 whole tables unoccupied, I decided to test the awkward waters and took a seat next to the Venusian. While she didn't shoo me off (how could she, she was her Mom's +1 to this reception), she wasn't exactly engaging in friendly-feeling conversation either. That hostile-lite tone in her voice from last year still carried over for some reason, but overall it was like she wanted things to be civil. Ma told me afterward she thinks Venusian's a snob. Pa wants me to call Camera Girl already.

Frienecdotes (Friend's Anecdotes)

Either my friends lead such interesting lives, or the circumstances surrounding the next three tales simply disrupted their otherwise mundane ones. For the first time(?), some names have been changed to protect the innocent-- namely, moi.

ONE: (Phone chat. Called Dee at her office for help arranging the Beijinoy Boracay trip.)
"Wow, you sound tired."
"Yeah, I might not come to work tomorrow."
"What happened? Are you sick?"
"No, I got robbed last night."
(Exit cheerful tone stage right.)

While Dee was getting gas at a Shell Station in Vito Cruz, the person approaching her from the driver's side of her Honda CRV was not an attendant about to hand her the bill, but a mugger. Because she struggled w/ the creep he wasn't able to get anything, but still ended up slashing Dee's arm a couple of times before escaping in his getaway tricycle.

What rankled me about this story was while Dee was busy trying not to bleed to death, or beforehand while the mugging was in progress, she said the Shell Station attendants were nowhere to be found. Instead she was assisted by attendants from a neighboring gas station. (Christ, Shell, is the Citibank 5% rebate thing hitting you guys so badly your gas stations have resorted to hiring apathetic f@#k-ups who stick the nozzle in the tank and go their merry way?) Dee reported the incident to police and got her arm stitched up, but unfortunately didn't get a good look at the guy.

Two nights later at a club Dee spent the evening telling the story to friends about 20 times, in response to them seeing her arm, and, amidst the loud music mouthing the words What happened to your arm, to w/c she gesticulated w/ her left hand stabbing her bandaged right. HI-larious.

TWO: Talking to Karen about her job, or to be precise she did most of the talking about her job while I drove. Background: She left her old bank job for a new one w/ better pay and position. But as the months passed that bank tightened their vault door and let some of the staff go, and she was presented w/ the choice of early retirement or demotion. She chose the latter and ended up w/ the same position she had at the old bank.

A year passes w/o incident, but come promotion time she was passed over for "lack of initiative," by someone younger and w/ less work experience than her. What "initiative" does one expect from someone demoted to Teller? Get new accounts? That's the Sales' job. Organize the office Xmas party w/o being asked to do so? Resist the urge to strangle young upstart higher-ups w/ delusions of false authority?

THREE: Aunt Teleute's job is purchasing fiction titles to be sold at the bookstore company where she works. Three years ago a foreign fiction titles consultant was brought in to work w/ her, a guy more than twice her age. While at first she resented the company seemingly not trusting her to do her job competently and thus inviting an ousider to evalute her, she later proved them wrong. Later on she even appreciated the presence of a actual fellow bibliophile (Who knew liking books and reading wasn't company policy?) and formed a paternal/ mentor-student relationship with him. They'd see each other at local literary events as colleagues and talked about books the way I'd talk to her about movies/TV.

You only think you know where this is going.

One afternoon on the road after attending a literary awards ceremony (where Old Guy joined the poetry category) Aunt Teleute was telling Old Guy (who was driving) about how she missed her voluntarily institutionalized boyfriend and her desire to become a writer. Amidst their passing by a motel district Old Guy seemed to construe her former statement as simply a case of someone missing sex and lacking experience in experimenting. This was followed by his hand lightly brushing her knee (w/c she used to dismiss as harmless geriatric reflexes) and then propositioning her.

Now, Aunt Telelute is not prone to flights of panic in stress-inducing situations (hell, she didn't even freak out when the salon she went to at Robinson's Galleria singed her beautiful black hair in a re-bonding process gone wrong), so she jokingly declined Old Guy's proposal, and he did similar and said he was just teasing her. (Testing the pervert waters, more like it.) Not to be given a second thought. Until last Saturday.

While they were at The Shang Mall waiting for some writers for a lunch meeting to shoot the shit with, Old Guy propositioned her again, much to her surprise and frustration. Sure, she liked him and grew up in the comfortable bond of old people (her dad's pushing 80-something), and mebbe if everything else was different (i.e. she's available while he's not twice her age) he'd have a shot of not being maced or tasered then and there.

But it's not, she thought. He's OLD. Really old. As in Married-with-kids-and-grandkids-old. So old Michael Douglas would look at their couplehood w/ disapproval. She again jokingly declined and told him that she won't wait w/ him for writers and instead do some window shopping. As she stood up to leave she jokingly apologized for being so desirable to him. On the inside Aunt Teleute pitied him and thought how disappointed she was at this pathetic old man, throwing away 3 years of friendship at the off-chance of getting casual May-December nookie.

While today Old Pervert doesn't come to Aunt Teleute's workplace as often as before, there's still the matter of the saucy text messages he's been sending her lately. Think of it as Smart Stalk 'N' Sext. Makes me long for the day when you can kick someone in the nuts via cellphone.

Monday Moment w/ Mona

Mona Veronica Cu (Ang) is unique in my small circle of Favorite People in that we've rarely seen each other. Before this dinner meeting in Greenhills that was arranged last week I could count the number of times we made eye-contact in one hand, and that's including the first time I met her at her sister Melody's high school graduation ceremony back in 1997. I found out that had she finished her schooling in Saint Jude (and not transferred to Uno) we would've been batchmates.

After that a friendship grew from nothing but phone calls and sharing stories, mostly from her. Yes, she's a talker w/ a strong personality, but we never run out of stuff to talk about. Admittedly I was already attracted to her from that first meeting, but the mention of the "B" Word in one of our phone-chats (Oh, my boyfriend likes to play volleyball, too.) was like a simultaneous kick to the throat, nuts and gut. While I managed to keep my composure in the conversation, after we hung up I wept a little that night.

(Ugh, pre-college sappiness. Gross.)

Despite that innocent revelation I kept communication ties going. If she can't be my girlfriend, at least she'll make a great friend, and in that decision I did not err. Even when she invited me to her 18th birthday party and her wedding day, I kept any lingering feelings to myself, knowing that Hollywood rom-com plot twists and/or last-minute declarations of affection were uncomfortable and creepy when done in real life.

Contrary to what her friends say (not that I can confirm if they did say it, but I just like opening w/ a cliche, sometimes), Mona is more a workhorse than a workaholic. Meeting w/ her casually should be done w/ an appointment, w/c can't be helped. Had she been a desk jockey instead of being a construction site overseer she would not be a slave to circumstance. Bad enough to only gets to play w/ her 2 kids on Sunday. Playing with her husband Melvin is a subject for a more mature blog, so there.

She's also of two minds when it comes to meeting would-be fellow Ad Extremians. On the one hand she's curious to see if her perception of them from grade school has matched, surpassed or missed any expectations of what they ought to be like now. On the other hand she's afraid of not knowing any of their names or faces. I keep telling not to worry as I'd be doing introductions, and maybe even prepare name tags if laryngitis ever gets me.

Monday Malling Palling w/ the Pelinas (or Chasing CoffAmy)

On special occasions I give myself the rest of the afternoon off from work. Who am I kidding, the hard work is usually done by lunch and the afternoons are spent looking for useful things to do around the office. Good thing then this Monday afternoon I had useful things to do and special people to see.

After bank errands and picking Jian up from school, I drove out to SM MoA to meet long unseen college classmate, Facebook chat buddy and Flixster soulmate Amy Yap Pelina (after almost a decade of long-time-no-see-ness), along w/ her husband, fellow comic/movie/TV geek Marc and their bibliophile daughter Trinity. They had just gotten back from a weekend trip to Batangas, and Marc was sporting the consequences of not having placed enough (or any, I think) sunblock on his person. Supermom was on her 2nd-but-definitely-not-the-last container of non-migraine curing coffee (inside joke). Trinity took an extended LOA from her school.

We met outside (and later ate inside) Cafe Mediterranean, exchanging presents, sort of. As they were kind enough to bring the books and T-shirts I (and Lola, respectively) ordered, in my attempt at being a gracious host I wasn't showing up empty-handed. In hindsight I underestimated Trinity's voracious reading appetite and should have gotten her more than the first 2 volumes of the Doraemon series, as she finished the Vol. 1 after lunch and Vol. 2 after dessert at The Coffee Bean.

After the hearty meals we went the IMAX Theater to watch Avatar , w/c is now first on my "Longest 3D Movies Ever Watched On An 80-Foot Screen" list. The first scene w/ Sam Worthington's character Jake waking up in the space station had its best affect on me, and I "felt" the screen tilt along the rest of the movie while it was depicting weightlessness. Got kinda sleepy in the 2nd Act, more alert in the 3rd (explodo scenes will do that), and for some reason watery-eyed (not teary-eyed, this ain't a touchy-feely chick flick) for the rest of the movie. Same thing happened w/ Trinity, w/c I assumed was our eyes trying to catch up w/ all the 3D action and not succeeding 100 percent. Not that I blame them, 'coz that movie was long, all 2++ hours of Titanic, Return of the Jedi, Robocop, Aliens, Lord of the Rings and Pocahontas homages and countable cliche lines. That said, it wasn't bad.

After the movie we went to the bookshops looking for origami paper and looking at interior design books, etc.. and window-shopped, all to pass the time while waiting for Marc's cousins to arrive. I felt sorry for Trinity having to walk around a huge mall w/ 3 grown-ups around the time that's too late for merienda but too early for dinner. If I was 8-years-old I'd be tired and hungry as well. When the cousins finally arrived we had Chinese for dinner (Marc's treat) and Starbucks for a nightcap.

On the odd and rare instance like tonight, Mom didn't call to check up on me. Has she finally realized I'm over 30? Nope, more likely (as I found out) it was because she and Pa also went out to dinner tonight, and I managed to get home ahead of them.

It's Her Wedding Die!

NOTE FROM MOI: Happy New Year, Readers. (Okay, that's the first and last time I'm calling you that. I sound like Stan Lee.)

Decided to quickpost this instead of waiting for the weekend to finish and let it fester.

Just came from what I'm assuming is the happiest day of one of my best Beijinoy friends, Dianne "Die!" Ngo. Today she got married to her Korean boyfriend of 5+ years, Ryu Moon Yong, aka Lew. While I missed the wedding ceremony (I love the girl, but apparently not enough to drive all the way to St. Jerome Emiliani and St. Susan Church in Ayala Alabang, apparently named after a sainted couple), I (and my spiffy new suit) made it to the banquet at the Peninsula Manila, just in time to see the entourage lining up outside the Rigodon Ballroom waiting to be announced by the emcees.

Table 24 seated the Beijinoys (and some of their spouses) from the HuaQing Apartment days. Jella made a surprise appearance after saying she was going to be stuck in Canada for the wedding. The whole program went by quickly, although a fair amount of time was spent w/ translating English to Korean. And I was surprised to hear a dulcet tone coming from Die! as she made her "Thank You" speech, much unlike her usual semi-tomboyish voice when we normally talk to each other. When I commented to her about it she said that was her "English-speaking" voice. "In love" voice, more like it. (Lew always did bring out her more feminine side. :p)

The Koreans are notorious for their proclivity to drink huge amounts of alcohol, so when the remaining guests were treated to a drinking game hosted by the Korean side called Titanic, only a few Filipino guests opted to join, the rest wanting to still be able to drive home, walk straight or remember the evening. Mechanics: A small cup is placed into a bigger glass 2/3 full of beer. The glass is passed around, as is (for tonight, at least) a bottle of Johnnie Walker. Each player must pour in as little or as much JW as they can into the floating cup without making it sink, because when it does the "iceberg" responsible has to drink the while thing. While Lew's turn had him as the iceberg, Die!'s dad was cool enough to act as the captain to "down the ship," so to speak.

Many Merry Xmases

Hong Kong Fluey, Part 4 (of 4)

Dec. 14: Still felt sick and too weak to even shower and slept poorly on couch mattresses laid on the carpeted floor. No blankets, so in hindsight bringing my sweatshirt was a good call. Felt much better in the morning, thankfully, although last night's bout of stomach flu probably helped. Guess it IS possible to get sick from eating too much Chinese food.

At this point I barely remember packing, much less where we had breakfast, although it was definitely not congee. What I do remember was the train ride to Central Station, where we and our 15 pieces of luggage checked in early. The next two hours were spent going around the IFC Mall.

Again I'm amazed w/ what the Chinese did to make what's in essence a really interesting train stop. Then again I'm not sure if the place was built before or after the train station, but either way the Shangri-La, Trinoma or Gateway Mall stops don't hold a candle to this place. Ultimately it was too high-end priced for my wallet, and getting lost wasn't difficult. There are definitely worse to places to kill time while waiting for your trip to the airport.

Our flight was fully booked. Evett and I were still a little sick, and the sight of a crowded flying bus filled even more coughing and sneezing passengers chilled my germ-phobic heart. Whoo, at least I'm conscious enough to enjoy the in-flight entertainment. (30 Rock rerun or a view from the plane's "belly-cam?")

When I finally got home and removed my socks I was surprised to see my left foot (and not-so-much my right) riddled w/ red spots. I thought What the hell? Am I allergic to my socks now? The spots didn't itch, but were still disconcerting to see. (Be thankful I didn't take pictures.) Online research pointed to sand fleas as the likely suspect. Lesson? Don't sleep on Excelsior Hotel's sofas, at least not w/o bedsheets covering it, or thorough vacuuming.

Hong Kong Fluey, Part 3 (of 4)

Panoramic shot of my hosts' flat in Tung Chung

Dec. 13: Tried but failed to keep my congee-resto breakfast light. Afterwards on the way to SoGo we noticed a lot of police cars and TV news vans parking right outside the department store, and on-site reporters getting their TV faces on, microphones at hand. Sunday Man-on-the-street puff pieces? Who knows/cares. I was there to pick out a housewarming/Xmas/birthday gift to for old classmate/friend/little sister Aimee Uy (Chong,) currently living here in HK w/ husband Richard. Settled for Baby shampoo-bath set.

After one MTR misstep (fyi, Chai Wan not the same as Wan Chai, but the the right-to-left reading can make things confusing for novices) I was off to Tung Chung, located at the end of Kowloon. With one transfer to Central Station the whole commute took about an hour and I exited into what turned out to be the Citygate Outlet Mall. With the exception of the restaurants and the gadget shop, all shops had items at presumably rock-bottom prices. And me w/o a shopping list. Oh, yeah, they didn't have any galoshes, either.

Aims met me at the Adidas shop and we (later joined by Richard) had dumplings for lunch, where ordering from the menu was like taking a college entrance exam: just tick on the right circle and hope for the best. And boy we ordered a lot of dumplings. I know Aims is supposed to be eating for 2, and Richard just looks like he is as well, but... whoof. (I kid, Bong. I kid.) After the hearty meal we took a walk back to their flat, located in a private compound in an area that reminds me of the apartment complexes rising up in Bonifacio Global City: a budding and quickly growing urban ecosystem.

After the brief tour Aims and I just bought some gum and spent the rest of the afternoon sitting by their park bench to shoot the shit. Preggy life for her (at 5 months and counting) is nothing but busy right now. When hubby's department was recently downsized she became the sole breadwinner, so Bong went back to school to get his Masters degree. But resiliency is her strong suit (as well as Numbers), so I wouldn't worry about her making it through this w/ head up high. I'm also cutting this short before I end up airing all the dirty laundry here.

When I got back to my hotel room I was blessed w/ an uninterrupted WiFi connection, so time was killed chatting w/ Robs and Eileen. I later met up w/ everyone else for some wonton and noodle soup dinner, as well as my first taste of HK gelatto for dessert. And the mystery of the parked police and news people is solved. Turns out while we were at the wedding banquet last night there was another acid-attack (the 5th this year) that happened nearby.

Evett wasn't feeling well so he got the bed this time. A couple of hours later I started feeling a bit under the weather, as well. Ugh, the one time my Internet connection's not going away I'm losing strength to type on the keyboard to chat.