2011 goals

I reaize I haven't made goals for 2011! So here's a draft after 30 minutes of pondering:

1. See Ilocos
2. Paint in canvas
3. Learn to schedule cooking time for B's lunch bag
4. Go on a walking tour with Carlos Celdran
5. Go hiking
6. Sew something - a pillow sham, chair cover...
7. Have a meaningful birthday
8. Try yoga
9. Peruse of house swimming pool
10. Join at least 4 organized runs
11. Be able to save a substantial amount for the house fund

Let's do this!

The Wedding - Part 2

The wedding reception is the couple's way of thanking guests for taking their time to bear witness to the most special occasion in their lives. It's a place for music, laughter, good food, wine and games. To me it's not supposed to be particularly impressive or grandiose. I would be happy to know that my guests were fed well, entertained, and one way or another shared the couple's joy. If you feel the need to impress the people at your party, they are probably strangers whom you are insecure of on their opinion about you.

I've read articles and books about what happens on the wedding day. According to them, most couples go through the night absently. Most are just thankful that months of planning are finally over, while some just don't know how to feel. I expected that state of mind on my wedding reception, but instead I was completely aware of what's happening, and even extra sensitive of each guest that I encountered. I chalk this up on dealing with each and every emotion that came over me all the months leading to the wedding day. I made sure to spend time and cultivate deep conversations with the people that matter in my life... the people who would be most affected by the change. Knowing their side gave me a balanced perspective of the event and gave it a realistic, logical quality.

B was the same, but not because he did some emotional preparations. He simply felt the need to be on top of things despite having our coordinator around. To be honest, the coordinator didn't give me confidence. It was B. Alongside my new husband, I oversaw the event with hawk eyes. I can openly say that the coordinators failed 70% at their job that night, but why dwell on the bad stuff?

Fortunately, there were people who enjoyed our wedding. Teddy Manuel didn't fail us with the reception styling. Paolo Corcolon who did the table centerpieces also did a good job. Days after the wedding, I would get a comment that the centerpiece flowers still showed no signs of wilting.

B's and my most important contribution to the reception was the background music. I'm proud to say that a lot of people thought the playlist was great, and someone even wanted to hire the orchestra we got.

I barely ate anything up on the stage. I don't even understand how B was able to do it! The spotlights were blinding; because of them I couldn't see the everyone clearly, which was a good thing. It meant, however, that everyone's eyes were on us, a thought I'd settle with a big gulp of wine whenever it occurred.

The program went as planned: AVP presentations, best man's toast and maid of honor speech (lovely, lovely speech by my maid of honor, Grace. I wonder how many people put their heads together to compose it. Hehe), then it was time to cut the cake.

The cake was a disappointment. I designed it to match our invitation and my gown. I especially reminded the cake maker that the florals need to be dainty, and the shade of gold, not orange. It was only upon close inspection that I saw the floral details made by a mould. The entire bottom layer was supposed to be edible, but we weren't told that it was only up to a certain point-- the lower half after the edible cake was made of styro. As a result, on our cake cutting ceremony, we got some styro on our plate. To make things worse, somebody else--a waiter--insensitively opened the champagne bottle, and we didn't finish the champagne during the cross-over toast because the coordinator was in a hurry to finish the program on time. It's probably the part of the evening that I want to repeat if I could.

And then B and I shared a first dance.

Suffice it to say we looked like fools, but heck even if we enrolled in a dance class for three months nothing would have prepared us for being in front of almost 500 guests.

I had my first dance with my father after that. Being a natural charmer with some dancing skills, my dad saved the performance. All my friends gushed over it after the wedding.

The singles' game was great. It was a fun twist to the classic children's game Trip to Jerusalem. All the forced participants had fun and I could tell that everyone else enjoyed watching it too... guys and girls sitting on strangers' laps. Haha!

The last part of the night where I was greeting the guests at the door, thanking them for coming, having pictures taken with them, etc. is a blur now. All I remember were the mixed feelings of relief, profound gratitude, being humbled, ecstasy, and then this great underbelly of heaviness.

When I wore that white dress, I was transformed into this woman nobody has seen before. Exalted into the role of bride, I shed my ordinary, girly appearance and physically represented my most feminine core, which included being my most radiant, most pure self. From a princess I became queen.

As the guests left one by one, I felt overcome by a sense of regret. I didn't want the night to end. I felt I would never be as beautiful as I was that day. Never again would I become a bride. Never again would I have my moment. I felt like a butterfly with the most magnificent wings, flitting from one guest to another charmingly. In the back of my head, I was thinking that tomorrow, I'd be just another bug on the other side of the garden, watching new cocoons become the next butterflies.

B wasn't at my side the whole time. He was somewhere in the room mingling as well. And then I finally saw him. He came to me and wrapped his arm around my waist. All of a sudden, I realized that I might never get to wear a pure, white dress again, but I knew he would treat me like the queen that I was that night for the rest of our lives.

Back in the hotel, we were to share a bed for the very first time as husband and wife. By that time, my confusion had been replaced by confidence. My transition to queen wouldn't desist when I take off the dress; its essence is not physical but internal. After that day and forevermore, I was not merely someone's daughter but my own person with my own career and my own family. I wasn't just B's supporter like I was as a girlfriend; I shared his authority and I was him and he myself. Together, we would navigate a road that was ours alone, and I couldn't help looking forward to tomorrow.

My husband helped me undo the buttons of the dress. With a last goodbye, I let it fall into a white heap on the floor.

The Wedding - Part 1

One week's hiatus after getting married and I'm back online. If you'll ask me how the wedding was, like most brides, I can only answer that it came and went like a whirlwind.

Last Night as Maiden

The most painful time was the night before, when I felt like I was supposed to be feeling or doing something, but I didn't know what. It was a long, exciting day that began with packing the things for the hotel, going to a nail salon with my parents, finally checking in and exploring our privileges at Club Lounge. Too bad I couldn't indulge that time, but the next time I get the chance to access that part of Sofitel, I'm definitely going to abuse the cocktail hour. Bonding with my parents came in the way of doing last minute shopping.

That night, my friends who were part of the entourage checked in a separate room. They came to my suite and we hung out at the veranda overlooking Sofitel's famous pool and Manila Bay. And then an amazing thing happened: fireworks started at the garden behind Sofitel's tennis court. We captured the moment through photos and had a blast watching the unseasonal display. My maid of honor commented that it was like I ended my singlehood with a bang. :)

I knew I had to get my beauty sleep that night, but instead I spent some alone time in the tub while my parents slept soundly. It was already midnight when exhaustion finally hit and I heeded the call of rest.

The Big Day

The next day, I woke up at 5:30am to the sound of my parents moving about the room. They'd both taken a shower and were having coffee while reading the paper/watching TV in the living room. That week I was inexplicably aching all over, and that morning wasn't any different. I had a bad headache, my arms were sore, and my body ached from waist down. I asked my mom if she could get me a paracetamol from the concierge of the Club Lounge. If only we had known about our room's butler service, I wouldn't have made her go up to get it.

My parents went down to breakfast at 7:00am. I dragged myself out of bed thirty minutes later. The sky was clear and sunny, a sign of good weather ahead. I popped the paracetamol and changed into work out clothes (of course I brushed my teeth, etc first). The change of clothes had an energizing effect for my body. By the time I got to the hotel gym called So Fit, I was pumped up and cheerful.

How can I describe the gym? It's small with only the basic machines, but I'd say they're the most advanced of their kind. I was offered a towel and something to drink (I chose bottled water over the sports drinks available) as soon as I walked in. When I got on the treadmill, the attendants offered me earphones. My work out was shorter than usual because I wanted to save some energy for the rest of the day, but I've never enjoyed it as much. Before then, I hadn't watched TV for months, so Channel V which combined music and visual entertainment was quite welcome (boy Avril Lavigne still hasn't evolved).

I wanted to explore the treadmill features some more, but I had a schedule to follow. I returned to the suite only to find my parents still missing. I called for housekeeping and started to pack our things away before the suppliers arrived.

I spent the hour waiting for the coordinator to arrive taking pictures with my parents around the suite. When the coordinator came, she was surprised that I still hadn't taken a shower at 9:30am.

The Dress

The make up people arrived at 10:00am, like they promised. My wedding gown arrived shortly after. It was the first time I saw the finished work, and my first thought was: it's so small!!

When you say wedding gown, what usually comes to mind is a tall, poofy dress with every inch of it covered in beads or lace or both. You imagine a train that goes on for miles. You imagine it weighing a ton. But when the staff of Paul Cabral finished putting the gown on the mannequin to display its full glory, it looked the opposite: precision cuts, compact shape, tiny, light and airy. Like you can float away in it. It was modest, dainty and tasteful. It looked perfect.

Photo Session

I got may hair and make up done, during which the photographer and videographer team started to arrive. Although I love getting my pictures taken, knowing that every one of them will be immortalized for the public got me nervous. I think that reflected on some of the photos, but in the end I just went with it and tried not to be so conscious.

I expected two hours of photo session all over the hotel, but it was unexpectedly brief. It's one of my disappointments, actually. I would've liked to feel the gown more and just be in that moment of radiance... to give the purity of my gown justice by staying maiden in it... before I had to meet my groom.

Anyway, so next thing I knew, we were on the elevator heading out of the hotel. Sofitel is well-known for its spiral staircase, where thousands of brides have posed on. When our photographer suggested a shot there, I agreed even though it was too cheesy and cliche. The spiral staircase is in the middle of the hotel's famous buffet restaurant, Spiral.

Imagine being there with friends and family on an ordinary Sunday. You're wearing jeans and T-shirt, and then out of nowhere there's a lady in her wedding dress coming at you with a horde of photographers and men with video cameras in tow. People stopped and stared, bent their necks to look. When I checked their expressions, they were smiling. At that moment I felt high... and then I wasn't shy anymore. It was my time to get attention. I was a bride.

Arrival at the Church

Waiting for the bridal car on the hotel lobby was torture. People ogled, hopefully for a positive reason. Finally, the white Lexus GS pulled up, and then that's it. Show time. I have no idea how all of me fit into the car door. All I know was that I was bundled up inside amid white tulle and satin, my parents looked great, the sun was bright and the sky was blue. We were off.

My wedding was at 4:00pm in San Sebastian Church. That day of all days, there were several parades going on en route to the church and my reception venue. Some roads were closed and traffic was on a standstill on the alternative streets. Thanks to our skillful driver though, we got to the church without encountering traffic. Unfortunately that meant being too early, arriving at 3:15pm. After several minutes, my parents got out of the car to mingle with the guests, leaving me alone and anxious.

Inside the car, I could see the guests who have arrived. I saw my friends who were part of the entourage, my relatives, and my groom. I watched them move restlessly from one guest to another, happily greeting, chatting, taking pictures. Seeing the people from different timelines of my life mingle was surreal; it was like my biography summarized in one moment.

Waiting in the car felt like forever. Some friends recognized the bridal car and peeked in to say hi. I think I was too paranoid that B might see me in my gown that at one point I shooed them away.

At last the wedding before us ended. The newly married couple came out of the church and had a photography session with friends and family. I saw our coordinator approaching and all I could think of was "Oh no!" I was made to get out of the car and stand outside the closed church doors. It was time! I felt unready. Paul's people were all over me frantically fixing my gown. They couldn't get the veil on right because it was too windy... it kept getting blown away which was bad for the pictures. My heart was pounding. The guests from the earlier wedding who were outside the church stopped taking pictures to watch me. I was actually screaming: "Aaaargh... this is it! This is it! Aaaargh!"

I kept repeating that as the church's double doors ever so slowly, ever so torturously slowly opened.

I took a deep breath. I couldn't feel my feet. Finally I entered, but I was made to stop before the aisle. What the heck? I thought. It's ruining the moment! They fixed my veil which was still flying everywhere, and then by some miracle the wind calmed, and I could walk.

The Walk

They told me San Sebastian's aisle is longer than usual. It felt short. I could even see the people by the altar craning their necks. I started to walk, I heard the marching song I chose but didn't really hear it. What was I thinking? I think I was disappointed that I didn't see the entourage march. I forgot I'd be at the end.

My knees were knocking together, my feet wobbling in four and a half inches of kitten-heel shoes. I remember being glad that the church was full, and I loved seeing familiar faces everywhere I looked. I hoped people would be touched, but I didn't think anyone would cry.

I reached my parents. My mom had a fixed smile on her face, which was completely contrary t my dad's expression. He looked calm and glad. I didn't think they'd cry either.

I passed my elderly relatives. I smiled and nodded at them. They smiled back. To my left, I saw my entourage friends, and one of them, Teddi, was crying. I wanted to know why so that I could feel her moment too.

And then my groom was in sight. I saw the bestman's gaze fixed on B's face. They were undoubtedly waiting for him to crack and shed tears, in vain. B's smile was a billion watts. There was no room for tears with a grin like that.

My maid of honor just asked how it felt to walk down the aisle. She says according to brides she's talked to, it felt like the whole world stopped. For me, it was like a slow motion movie, only I'm the star. I wished the aisle was longer; it felt only right that the last stretch to B's arms should be long enough to reflect everything we went through to get there.

Ceremony

I kissed my parents goodbye as they gave me to B. The first thing he said was a jest: "Nandito ka rin?"

Our priest is a friend of B's family. I had never heard a sermon of his so everything he said for that hour was a beautiful surprise. He began by saying that before the wedding, outside the church, he asked B if he was ready. And B allegedly answered that he was, because I'm God's gift to him, and he knows that God gave the best woman for him to love.

Of course, B didn't really say that. He stopped at "Yes, I'm ready." But it was a beautiful way to adlib the simple answer. It was the first time I heard a wedding ceremony start that way. The rest of the sermon was clear and communicated in simple, touching words. At one point, I really felt the Holy Spirit with us as the sacrament was performed.

There were some blunders with the putting on of rings, declaring our vows and basically every occasion where we had to speak on the microphone. I could hear laughter coming from the back. As usual, we're clumsy even in front of the altar.

The First Kiss

Some couples hold hands during the wedding ceremony. We were hesitant to touch each other before we were officially husband and wife. The priest almost missed giving B permission to kiss his new wife. He ended the ceremony already and the music from the orchestra was coming on. But leave it to B not to let that happen: he made me face him and was the one signalling to the priest that it was time to kiss the bride. I saw that the priest wanted to laugh but restrained himself. He only said, "You may now kiss the bride for the very first time."

Being the momentous occasion that it was, B took his time lifting my veil to reveal my face. And then he proceeded to do the most ridiculous thing: he gave me a kiss that almost swept me off my feet... in front of the whole church!!!

I remembered that we talked about that sort of performance before, when a wedding was only in our imagination. But I'd totally forgotten about it so I wasn't ready. I'm sure we looked awkward in the photos. Needless to say, B got a good cheer from that performance, but honestly it embarrassed me.

After the ceremony we had the obligatory altar picture taking, which ended badly because the church personnel was hurrying everyone to get it over with. It was unfair because we didn't even consume the entire hour allotted to us due to delays on the part of the earlier weddings.

We walked down the aisle again, B and I, but this time together and out of the church. Our friends were waiting for us outside armed with petals and Chinese style confetti. That's it. We're married. All the months of anticipation and preparation concluded in that moment when B held me at the waist outside of the church. I asked him, "How do you feel?" And you know what he answered? The sweetest, most profound thing: "I don't know." Huh. He always doesn't know how he feels. I wonder why I ever believed any of his professions.

It was already past 5:00pm and the sky was starting to turn purple. We needed to catch the sunset at our reception venue for some more photo session. It was strange being in the car together. We should have prepared a bottle of champagne.

On the way to the reception, we held hands and B couldn't stop saying I looked gorgeous. I believed him, because I not only felt gorgeous, I felt at peace.

Packing

This past few days have been all about deciding what to take with me as I become a wife, and what to leave behind. Generally, what gets left behind is the old, the worn, the unwanted.

Last night I started to pack my suitcase. As I watched the empty hangers dangling on the closet rod, and the contents getting thinner by the minute, my shoulders started to sag. Years worth of clothing, and every one of them with a memory attached to it... What's going to happen to them now? I thought about how each one is defined by what they wear, like costumes that identify cartoon characters. Every item of clothing that my parents own is as familiar to me as their voice, their facial expressions. I'm sure they feel the same way about my belongings... It's weird... the t-shirts they usually see me in will be here, but I won't. It's like leaving my skin.

When I become this new person in a new house with a new role, who will I become with my new clothes? I realize that it's a chance to reinvent myself... maybe I'll start wearing pink and capri pants. It took 24 years to build my old wardrobe to who I am today. What will it look like five years from now?

I know it's too early to pack but it'll just be harder the closer we get to the wedding day. I want to ask my parents so many questions, like how they are feeling: do they feel sad? Are they going to miss me? What's their favorite memory of this house? What do they want to do before I leave?

I have so many regrets. I wish I had known exactly how much time we had; I wish I didn't hurry to grow up. And now time wouldn't slow down no matter what we did. I ended the night by putting back the childhood pictures B and I selected for one the wedding program AVPs. I didn't expect to get caught it in it, but I did. I ended up poring over all the albums, going over birthdays, family trips, pictures at home, school events... I don't know why I didn't see it before, but there were some really happy pictures of my mom and dad. With a pang, I realized I haven't seen them that happy in the last 6 months.

All I wanted my whole life is to make them happy. Turns out all I had to do was stop growing.

My room has become a storage for Chinese pre-wedding stuff-- symbolic items that will precede my coming to the groom's house, to be brought there this Wednesday. My mom and I are busy completing the requirements and it's been a great way to bond. What I'm worried about now though, is how empty my room would feel when all the clutter's gone. Without the ribbons, the mirror, the suitcases, tea sets, porcelains, bedspreads, etc., it will be more conducive to thinking. With the last pre-wedding Chinese custom is out of the way, we'd be less busy. Will I get to ask my questions by then?

The present, the future, the past

Twelve days before my wedding and I don't know how to feel about it anymore.

I'm not as panicky as before, and all the sentimental feelings about leaving home, etc., are gone.

All I can think of now is let it be over...

I wish weddings weren't such a big deal. I wish they were intimate occasions that happen to every family, like baptism or Christmas dinners. I wish there needn't be too much fuss or expense over it. I mean if you're planning to get in touch four times a week over the phone and thrice a month by visiting, it shouldn't be a big deal for the families right?

Now I'm just concentrating on looking ok on the big day. Like getting sleep (shoot! It's 11:30pm), drinking water (well juice counts right?) and exercising (as much as my current health condition allows me; just my luck I caught the flu and still am not completely well).

It's so weird that I'm getting married NEXT WEEK. What's even harder to fathom is that week after next week all this will be done and the stress and anxiety will only be memories!!!

Last twelve days of being single... of owning myself... of being a Miss.

I heard an interesting topic on the Boys' Night Out radio show on the way home tonight (disclaimer: I don't habitually listen to them). They were talking about the "quantity" that makes girl or a guy laspag (well-worn in English). Is it the number of people s/he's been around with? Slept with? Callers answered 2-3 for girls, some as high as 5, for guys some said 15, others infinity. Some said it's not how many, it boils down to a name-- as in who were the past girls or guys? They may turn out to be your friends, or someone you know that know them.

The common answer however, is that the quantity doesn't really matter as much as the physical maintenance. You could have had a thousand partners but look fresh if you take good care of yourself.

If you were to ask me, my limit is at 5 girlfriends, 1 five year long relationship and 15 unique shags. Five girlfriends is a lot of memories to compete with, and a five year long relationship that didn't go anywhere means a lot of exhausted feelings that might have resulted in secret jadedness. He might look and feel "fresh", but what about where freshness really matters... in the heart? As for the 15 unique shags, well as long as he wasn't in a relationship with all of the women, I'm quite liberal in that department. Maybe he's lonely, maybe he didn't know what he was looking for. All of it was a process that lead him to you.

I don't know if I should share this, but I suppose listening to that show made me thankful of how I took care of myself as I was growing up. I wouldn't go into the details anymore but if my fiance really knew me, despite how stupid he thinks I am, he would realize that my past could only give him gratification.

Turning the tables around, B's past is blurry to me. He doesn't share much no matter how I prod, and when he does, a part of me refuses to understand completely, so I only absorb patches of information. I do know that he's gotten around enough. As for being in love... I prefer putting it as really liking someone, in which case I'm sure there had been a couple of women. Sometimes I get annoying and pry for information about those girls, just so I could secretly self-compare. But then I'd realize that he was different then, and they must be different now.

No, I don't think B is laspag, although his history used to bug me and I had to deal with it for some time. How I take it is when your boyfriend/girlfriend standards are someone who's single since birth and never been kissed, you most likely get the opposite. But when you meet that person and fall in love, isn't the promise of a fresh start good enough?

The topic piqued my interest because it's the very reason B and I are getting married this soon. My parents wanted us to break up after being together more than a year unless we get married, because they were afraid for me. They were afraid people would gossip, they were afraid I'd get dumped, and then nobody would want me after having been involved for so long with a guy. I would so love to prove them wrong; I'd even bet all my money that it would be the other way around. But there's no need for that anymore.

Can someone tell me...

if all married couples have to take a shower before going to bed?

Because I never do, unless I came from the gym, or a wet market all day, or feel like putting on lotion. I can do it though... I can be one of those women on TV with the silk night gown to change into and everything. But that'll probably last a week.

Just a question as I let my hair dry before saying goodnight .

Goodnight!

Aaaack!!!!

It's 2011!!!!!!! 28 days to go... *PANIC ATTACK*

So I snooped around the net to see what awaits me in 2011. I know it's stupid to believe in fortune telling, so let's just say it's for entertainment.

Here's something from Yahoo's Shine:

2011 is all about showing Virgo the money. Being the bona fide workaholic of the zodiac, you have certainly earned your right to demand the six figures through long hours and heaps of your own blood, sweat and tears over the past several years. And you've certainly suffered enough losses and endured enough tests of faith in the financial department to prove your substance. As much as you get off on the occasional masochistic work jag, you can't help but wonder when things are going to get easier. Well hang tight Virgin, because the bonus you so desperately need and deserve should arrive between March and June of 2011. A major conglomeration of fiery planets activates your sector of other people's money, including the luckiest planet of them all -- Jupiter. If that doesn't bring some kind of windfall, loan or access to a serious line of credit you're going about your business all kinds of wrong.

You're also getting ready to shed some serious skin starting this March. With Uranus, the change god joining forces with Jupiter in your sector of psychological change: you're preparing to face some serious skeletons in your psychic closet. Rather than applying your brilliant yet critical mind in assessing other people's shortcomings, you're ready to confront your own strengths and weaknesses on a new level. This year favors the clean slate approach to all matters of self-help, renewal and transformation of your personality. You're leaving many aspects of your old self behind in order to become a better and more authentic version of who you really are.