Bad kind of surprise -- Result

That wasn't so bad. Lunch was at Izakaya Kikufuji (first time to have Uni). Apparently, my empathetic boyfriend surprised me and his family. They had no idea I was joining them for lunch. According to B, it was the first time he brought anyone for them to meet, but they reacted as though it happens everyday. Well, except for his ahya, who I caught checking me out. I met his parents, his siblings, his brother's family, his father's younger brother and a cousin from Singapore. They were all okay; no signs of psycopath tendencies in the family. They didn't ask a lot of questions-- in fact they hardly paid me any attention. It weirded me out but I guess I wouldn't have liked the alternative.

It's only when we're around other people that I remember B's age. During lunch, I sat in between him and his cousin who's a grade school teacher in Canadian IS Singapore. We were chatting, and then suddenly she called to B, "Ahya, where can I buy dri-fit shirts?" In my mind I was screaming, She calls him 'ahya'!!!

"She just called you ahya!" I whispered to B.
"Yeah," he said, oblivious to the incredulity of it.
"How old is she?"
"Twenty-six, I think." At that, realization dawned and he looked at me and smiled.

While I was talking to the uncle, B's mom asked him where I went for college. When he told him, she said, "Graduate na, noh?" We laughed about it in the car; she might as well have said, "She better not be as young as I think she is."

I forget our age gap because it doesn't seem to matter. We're both goofballs when we're together, and something tells me our mental ages meet somewhere in the middle. But no matter how many times I'm reminded how old he is, I'm still awed every time. And, oddly enough, I like him even more.

One last Christmas to go! This is the ultimate challenge. This is the mother of all Christmases. Meet Guama.

I'm scared.

Bad kind of surprise

Holy crapoli!

B invited me to lunch with his entire family this morning! Crap crap crap! And I'm wearing this bitin shirt that I like to wear when I want to show off some skin.

Crap crap crap!

Holiday diaries

I confess to being guilty of recycling gifts. But c'mon, don't you just hate it when someone gives you a gift that wasn't given much thought? Like a scented candle, for example. Or one of those bath gels from Watsons. It makes you doubt the kind of relationship you have going, and the truth is you will remember it every year as you buy the person a present and the two of you will be stuck in a cycle of exchanging useless junk every Christmas.

It alarms me that I have so much gifts to recycle but no one to give them to. On the other hand, it may be because I keep a small group of quality friendships instead of a hundred acquaintances I don't care much about.

* * *

B met my parents on Saturday night. It wasn't earth-shattering, as I imagined it would be. Then I remembered, to them he's just another prospect paying his respects. On the way to our house, I was more quiet than usual because I was so nervous. It's not that I was worried about his qualifications; I was more anxious about whether they would get along. I resented that B was the one trying to calm me down, considering it was his first time to meet someone's parents intentionally.

"How come you're so relaxed about this?" I asked accusingly. Like always, he caught the undercurrent. "It's not going to help us even if I stress over it. Just treat it like a business meeting. No expectations, no surprises. If it turns out well, you walk out happy. If it doesn't..." he shrugged.

It wasn't the most comforting thing to hear at the time, but his good sense considerably calmed my nerves.

Armed with that mentality, he met my parents and coolly chatted with them for more than an hour. I hardly participated in the conversation, acting more like a maid preparing refreshments and food. He spoke with my parents in Chinese, impressing all of us and, of course, putting me in the butt of jokes.

To sum it up, I'd say the Meet went pretty well. My parents didn't sing him praises. Even better, they had nothing to say.

One Christmas down. Two more to go: B's parents and his guama, who I'll be meeting for lunch as B's Christmas present for her. They better not ask me a lot of questions cos I can't pull off B's stint with my impoverished fookien bank.

More relationship questions

How do you know whether your partner is starting to be complacent, or you've just come to expect too much? And is the fact that you're keeping a scoreboard a sign that the relationship is a little superficial?

I realized over the weekend that I've gotten used to being treated perfectly that I've been setting myself up for disappointment. I've got to give the guy some slack. And then following that magnanimous reflection, I wondered in panic whether I'm beginning to make excuses for him. Is this what they mean when people say love is blind?

I still don't have a Christmas gift. I saw an album on Multiply of how my friend exchanged Christmas presents with her boyfriend. They told each other what they wanted and tried the items on before buying them. I'm assuming they shopped together. That's a convenient (almost tempting to suggest), sure-fire way to give your partner what s/he wants, but isn't the thought lacking there? I'm 100% sure that B would like this idea. Sometimes I find he's not so good in the thoughtfulness department. Sure he remembers things I mention in passing, he's sensitive to my needs... but I'm nervous about what he'll decide to get for me as a present. I guess it's his being materialistic that makes his imagination limited. But I hope I'm just underestimating him. The solution to this is to expect the worst, as is the mantra that set this relationship in motion.

I could use more coupled-up friends.

By the way, here's something cool sent to me by my Korean friend Brian.

Sel Feeling Star! :D

Socializing in Mars

It began with Manila Autosalon 2008. Since then, I've been whisked to automotive industry functions left and right, the most recent of which is the Mitsubishi Christmas party last night. I have met automotive journalists, racers, C! owners, car manufacturer big wigs, too many autoshop businessmen, to name a few. "Welcome to my world," B said.

In parties where the ratio stands at one girl for every table of 10, it can be alienating at first. But try immersing in this testosterone-charged environment and you'll find it's actually quite comforting. The guys are just like your father or what an older brother would've been like. They are extremely friendly, funny, yet intelligent and cultured. They're the regular Joes of this world who stick to the basics: food, cars and beautiful women.

I am now known in the automotive industry as "B's girlfriend" because that's how he would introduce me to people. I can't help but wonder: Is he purposely taking me to his parties to show me off as he would a brand new car?? This suspicion is stoked by the fact that he's received several envious albeit joking remarks from colleagues. The burning question in my mind now is, as with any new possession, what will happen when the shiny new object loses its luster?

Relationship dilemmas

My personal stand about monthsaries is that they are meaningless and unnecessary. However, B seems to believe that we ought to celebrate our first month together, the dates of which he had to remind me. I say dates because it began on a certain date and ended on another. It's one of the things I like about my relationship-- it's probably as peculiar as relationships come.

So apparently on top of the Christmas gift I am stressing over, I need to whip up an anniversary token within a week. I ask myself over and over: what do you give someone who has everything?

Katrina, my officemate, said I should do something similar to Serena van der Woodsen's Christmas stint for her guy Dan Humphrey in Gossip Girl. Sure, it's probably a breeze in real life to get a room, fill it with artificial white fluffy snow and CG of snowflakes falling via a projector. No problem. Thing is, I'm not really feeling romantic about the occasion. For one thing, being told that we ought to celebrate it makes preparing for it about as thrilling as wrapping my parents' Christmas presents for their inaanaks. For another, I can be sweet but not diabetically endangering. I always say, leave the cheesy, ultra slick grand gestures to a 50-member prod team to (insert verb here) desolate singles. In real life, small, sincere gestures are the best. In real life, keep it real.

This leaves me wondering, am I just being the passive-practical-anti-mush-advocate... or am I just not that into him?

Given choices A and B, I think I'll choose C: I'm still afraid of investing too much on this whole thing.

Gift-giving: thus is one of the toughest dilemmas of being in a relationship. Another problem we're facing is a concept called Meeting the Parents. B got invitations to watch Four Christmases for free last Saturday. When I told him the synopsis, he burst into fits of laughter. It took me a couple of seconds to understand why: sounds familiar. Our parents still have no idea about us. It was I who wanted to keep them out of it in the meantime for three hopefully understandable reasons:

1. My parents are going to be watching me closely, which would be tolerable if it didn't also mean a close investigation on the poor guy.
2. His parents are going to start looking up feng-shui wedding dates.
3. Carefree life as we know it would end.

If I can help it, I would keep it from them for as long as we can. But the topic has been cropping up more often nowadays, which makes it safe to assume he's getting antsy about the whole shroud of mystery. Besides, it's sort of the perfect time to introduce each other to our families what with love and understanding more generously given than usual. We didn't make it to the movie invite last Saturday, but we decided to watch the movie no matter what before facing both our parents.

"F-ing buy tickets with Sureseats," he muttered while typing in his phone's to-do list (the Sureseats bit is due to our traumatic experience with Twilight).
"Bring a note," I said.