As Hope Goes By

At this time last year, I was so full hope. My life was so complete that I thought it was finally my turn to let hope take flight. I arrogantly told myself I had done something good and that time last year, there came my reward. I greedily drank up the bliss that I didn't even bother to check out the price tag.

And you wouldn't find my postings here during this time last year. The fact I was too overjoyed to sit still and my head too heavy from being surrounded by big, happy lightbulbs, kept my fingers away from any buttons on the computer keyboard.

I can't write when I'm too happy.

Funny how 12 months, 52 weeks, and 365 days later, the word 'hope' isn't even available in my dictionary. I'm not lying. Go find it. After 'hop', the entry goes straight to 'hopeless'. Though 'hopeless' won't exist without 'hope', you can see the word isn't found there.

Now this time of the year, tears have stopped and wounds have dried. Only hope has vanished. It's proven by how easily words pouring out since December went by.

Me, A Bitch

So it's true. There really is someone for everyone. No matter how nauseating you are for others co-existing with you, there must be someone who really adores you. I thought I had always doubted it. But not until I saw this Friendster testimonial given to a so-called friend I could never get along with:

"X is everything I have ever wanted in a woman and now I am lucky to say that she is my wonderful, beautiful, smart, and sexy wife. I am yours forever, X, and I LOVE YOU MORE THAN YOU WILL EVER KNOW!!! I can't wait to grow old with you."

... (speechless)
... (feeling own heart slightly melting)
... (speechless even more)


... (regaining consciousness)

I knew her for 11 years now and used to hang out often before I stepped up for myself that it was perfectly okay to not be able to stand hanging out with a certain person if within 10 minutes, I would only start kicking whosever feet under a table as a mayday signal to get me out of that person's sight.

It was okay to not be able being around someone who never let others finish their sentences only to continue it with her other "greater" stories, though those were not whatsoever related to the current topic of conversation. It was okay to not be able to talk with someone whose opinions were all based on that someone's mother, for she always started her sentence with: "My mother said..." or "According to my mother ..." or "In my mother's opinion...". I could only try to understand that her mind might have been clouding by the excessive hairspray usage for the hair, that she couldn't think of anything coming from her own mind.

It was okay to not be able to share growing-up-pain talks with someone still received allowance till 26 years of breathing days on Earth. It was also okay to not be able to be around someone who painted eyebrows every 5 minutes and powdered nose every 10 minutes, regardless any place that person happened to be. It was okay to not be able to talk more than 5 minutes with someone whose knowledge only revolved around celebrity gossips and teenage movies. It was okay to not be able to look at someone's too much makeup over too tight and too sexy outfit cladding overweight body for only going to an afternoon karaoke with old girl friends.

It was okay to not be able to listen to someone's being boastful for superficial things. Like when that someone once told me she had a golden retriever, which when I drove her home and accidentally saw the dog, it was just a mere mixed breed. As a dog lover, I was kind of insulted, for mixed breed dogs are nothing to be ashamed of. They are indeed not as expensive and handsome as golden retriever, but they still greet you with their sincere hearts whenever you come home.

My evil mind wonders if the guy who wrote that testimonial for her will ever get to see her true colors. And by the way, she and her now husband met through an online dating service. Due to geographical matters, they only got to meet up several times before they finally got married.

Love - if it really still exists - is truly blind.

Everytime I Say Goodbye

"From this day forward, Ms Chikididu is no longer in charge for food and travel columns," announced my superior in a closed meeting.

I didn't know what was going on after that, for I then just blacked out.

I've never been good at goobyes. Be uttering it to people, places, puppies, belongings, or even my columns. I hate myself for having a little too much bonding with things I've ever had a chance to hold them in my hands. Even if it's only a few seconds.

Those 2 columns were my babies. I didn't carry them in my unfruitful womb, but I did raise them like my own. I loved them every single week more than I loved my own life, that I was willing to gain 10 pounds during nurturing them. I crossed seas and climbed mountains just to keep them alive. I spent sleepless nights in faraway lands just to make sure they're happy. Every word I put on them, I crafted with such passion that each time I saw them in print and enjoyed by more than 650,000 readers nationwide, I could just spend hours looking at them with such a glow as if I'd just had marathon sex. And when people told me how beautiful my babies were, I simply cried happy tears and forgot all about the eternal fat dwelling in my ab or severely sore muscles in my entire body.

It broke my heart even more when knowing my babies were given to someone who doesn't even possess sheer enjoyement in writing, if not telling stories.

I just wish I didn't get this "promotion". I want my babies back. It's a cold and lonely place out there.

Throes Of Pleasure

Rob Thomas is going solo by releasing a new album Something To Be with a hit single Lonely No More. First time watching the video on V-Channel, I was so shocked seeing his brand new Ricky Martinesque music and looks (thank God he doesn't dance in that video - well, okay he does a bit of belly movement, but that's it!) , that my fingers then got an itch to change the channel in reflex. It was like watching The Eye which - according to a friend - is world's best horror movie ever.

Whatever happened to that cool guy singing Smooth with the guitar played by Carlos Santana or that husky voice of Matchbox Twenty vocalist making me tremble each time singing If You're Gone?

Weeks after that, I, as usual, was caught up in horrible traffic jam. The radio was playing Lonely No More. As too busy with the gears, not to mention keeping 2 eyes wide open for crazy drivers and bikers owning 9 lives around, I didn't have more hands to be able to switch the station. So I just let Rob sing to his heart's content.

No sooner than he sang the song furiously as making a clear point that he doesn't want to be lonely, unconsciously I found myself grooving to the music. My head moved to and fro with the melody as if I was listening to my regular standard of cool music.

The next day, at exactly the same time being trapped in the same sickening traffic jam, the same radio station again played Lonely No More. I was still pretty much occupied with the car's clutch, egoistic drivers and homicidal bikers, but I actually had enough hands to turn up the volume. I didn't really know the words of the song, but I couldn't help singing along to the chorus part: 'I don't want to know the lover at my door is just another heartache on my list...' As I did that, my head banged even wildly as if listening to the trash metal of the 80's, while my hands kept drumbeating on the steering wheel. For the first time in a very long long time, I felt like the happiest person alive.

The next day, a Saturday that was, I got my mind made up to cruise typical busy streets just to get the latest Rob's CD. Like any other pursuits, they never come easy. The CD shop was located in one of the busiest shopping malls in town that when I got there, it took me 30 minutes alone to find an adequate space to park my van. And then another 10 minutes to walk to the elevator, 15 minutes to wait for the over-crowded elevator, 15 minutes to walk between crowd after crowd to the store, and another 10 minutes to queue behind people checking out the CD boxes. I crossed my fingers they all didn't look for Rob Thomas' CD.

All that I did for Lonely No More.

I understand that after reading this post, I will lose the friendship of dear Marianne who cringed when she caught me humming the song. And holiday_sendiri, I also understand if you don't want to know me anymore. I've somehow learned that I'm not bound to be Lonely No More.

Bargaining With God

When I woke up this morning, I found a text from a dear friend saying: "... When did life start to agree with me?" It was 05.30 AM and the rain was falling in rage outside.

Yes, when did life start to agree with me?! Surely not when the rain was falling and spreading its magical chant: "come back to bed! come back to bed!", while I should have left my warm bed in another half an hour. Like many other things, rain doesn't need an RSVP invitation to break its water on to any given place on Earth.

Taking a deep breath, I then did a mental conversation with God - if ever He really exists:

"Great. Just great! When did I ever ask You too much? I've never wanted to be happy or content. I thought you had known it by now. Like I've never expected to be granted a stunningly beautiful face along with majestic grace like Angelina Jolie or Monica Belucci, have I? Neither have I expected my love affairs to last for long nor having enough money to afford a 2 week holiday to South America. No. Even if the thoughts ever crossed my twisted mind, I have only dared to keep them for myself.

Looking back, I was even willing to take my first humiliation at the age of 4 when I was the only person certified 'a hopeless case' by my ballet instructor that she didn't pick me to be on a show. I didn't shed a single tear when all my ballet classmates tried on their pink ballet shoes just because they all could stand on their tiptoes. Growing up, I even took it easy when the first person ever giving me electric jolts consulted me for buying a special gift for his girlfriend's birthday.

And don't you remember how I just shuddered in ignorance when someone sweetnothing me by saying my body was his wonderland and how he was willing to quench my physical thirst, only he's located in far off another continent with 13 hours difference from where I live? A webcam? No, thank you. I prefer the real thing. Then recently, just when I finally bumped into someone who appreciates A Clockwork Orange as much as I do, knows things about Morpheus, and - dear Lord! - how articulate he is in written language, I just numbly picked up the remaining splinters of my heart off the floor once again when he declared out loud 'I would like to be the air that inhabits you for a moment only'.

And now, are You fucking kidding me by letting the rain fall just when I should get up and get ready for another boring day at underpaid work?! Just when I've never questioned your mercy before!"

Carpenters Wedding

If I were a wedding planner for a couple happen to be Carpenters aficionado, here's what I would do. (Well okay, hypothetically my clients don't find Carpenters suitable enough to audio decorate their so-called once in a lifetime occasion, then I don't know what Josh Groban's mediocre You Raised Me Up or Shania Twain's mundane From This Moment is! I'm so gonna lure them into enacting a Carpenters' comeback concert on their special day - even if that takes certain hypnosis or witchcraft! Believe me, I'm capable of doing "necessary" things when it comes to wedding songs!)

The bride walks down the aisle of a tiny chapel holding a bouquet of Casablanca lilies in her hands:

Why do birds suddenly appear
Every time you are near?
Just like me
They long to be close to you

Why do stars fall down from the sky
Every time you walk by?
Just like me
They long to be close to you

On the day that you were born
The angels got together
And decided to create a dream come true
So they sprinkled moondust
In your hair of gold*
And starlight in your eyes of blue*

(They Long To Be (Close To You))

* subject to be customized according to the bride's recent hair/wig color and natural/contact lensed eyes.


The "I do" part or the vow reading:

Love, look at the two of us
Strangers in many ways
We've got a lifetime to share
So much to say
And as we go from day to day
I'll feel you close to me
But time alone will tell
Let's take a lifetime to say
I knew you well
For only time will tell us so
And love may grow for all we know

(For All We Know)

Note: The background song for this part can also be any Carpenters' song, even the broken-hearted number or any cheerful repertoire reminding the couple of any special memories they have shared, from making up after each fight to stealing their first kiss.

The just-been-pronounced husband and wife walk down the aisle out of the tiny chapel:

We've tried our hand at love before
We've been around the game enough
To know the score
But then is then
And now is now
All now is all that matters anyhow

Make believe it's your first time
Leave your sadness behind
Make believe it's your first time
And I'll make believe it's mine

The door is closed
It's you and me
We'll take our time with love
The way it oughta be
This moment's ours
Tonight's the night
And if we fall in love
Well, that's alright

So close your eyes
And hold me close
And let our hearts pretend
That love is ours to share tonight
And it might never end

(Make Believe It's Your First Time)

Note: It could also be Carpenters' most renowned hit like Top Of The World, but since its beat rather belongs to medium tempo, then it's not a good idea, especially for the white dressed bride with a long tail, to walk with. As much as people love watching Funniest Home Video, I don't think they really want to see a falling bride in real life.

The bride and groom's first dance together:

We've only just begun
To live white lace and promises
A kiss for luck and we're on our way
Before the rising sun we fly
So many roads to choose
We start out walking and learn to run
And yes we've only just begun
Sharing horizons that are new to us
Watching the signs along the way
Talking it over just the two of us
Working together day to day
Together
And when the evening comes we smile
So much life ahead
We'll find a place where there's room to grow
And yes we just begun

(We've Only Just Begun)

The dance is then followed by families and other guests:

After long enough for being alone
Everyone must face their share of loneliness
In my own time nobody knew
The pain I was going through
Waiting was all my heart could do

Hope was all I had until you came
Maybe you can see how much you mean to me
You were the dawn breaking the night
The promise of morning light
Filling the world surrounding me

When I hold you baby, baby, baby
Feels like maybe things will be alright
Baby, baby, your loves may be free as a song singing forever

Only yesterday I was sad and I was lonely
You show me the way to leave the past
And all the tears behind me
Tomorrow may be even brighter than today
Since I threw my sadness away
Only yesterday

I've found my home here in your arms
Nowhere else on earth I'd really rather be
Life waits for us to share it with me
The best is about to be
So much is left for us to see

(Only Yesterday)

Note: Not to worry, I Won't Last A Day Without You will also be included somewhere in the wedding. Most probably as background when the just-married couple deliver their speech. When the song is played by the band, I might as well pretend to be busy checking out the catering staff. Bark at those evidently enchanted by the song and the movie-lines alike speech that causing them stop pouring champagne, if I may.

It doesn't help. Even Carpenters' songs can't lessen the bad taste weddings left in my mouth. Attending weddings is like watching a very bad play having a bad script.

(Written upon seeing pictures taken at a screwed up wedding of a so-called friend)

Are You Lost

From an epilog scene of The Sheltering Sky...

Someone at a cafe:
Are you lost?

Kit:
Yes!

Narrator:
Because we don't know when we will die. We get to think of life as an inexhaustible well. Yet everything happens only a certain number of times. And a very small number, really. How many more times will you remember a certain afternoon of your childhood? Some afternoon that's so deeply a part of your being that you can't be without it? Perhaps 4 or 5 times more. Perhaps not even that. How many more times will you watch a full moon rise? Perhaps 20. And yet it all seems limitless.

That's true. How many more times will I have the faith in days of romance not yet over when drowning in Karen Carpenter's warm, nakedly emotional voice singing I Won't Last A Day Without You? How many more times will I have to hit the 'delete' button on my computer to erase whatever pictures taken with those taking master in my life for a little while, only realizing they will never get completely erased from my heart? How many more times will I have to scroll down and up the phonebook in my cell phone just to find someone I can spend a sultry evening with without any strings, only later it will leave me totally empty? How many more times will I have to be the Heatcliff of Wuthering Heights? Perhaps 4 or 5 times more. Or perhaps even 20.

And here's from the opening scene ...

Kit:
Are you a tourist or a traveler?

Turner:
What's the difference?

Kit:
A tourist wants comfort of home. A traveler seeks adventures.

Speaking of adventure, I finally found the time to watch Hitch yesterday. I couldn't help but lose a track of breath when Sara character shouts: "Don't worry, you'll find a man with a nice smile and you'll both travel the world for adventures!"

It left me pondering if most girls really do seek a nice smile and the spirit of adventure in a man. I thought they all went for kind ones. (Q: What made you fall for him? A: Because he's kind!) Yeah, go ahead frown, cause I don't understand either what they mean by "kind", for the word has like more than a dozen meanings. Let alone a set of thesaurus for it.

Wow! I didn't know I was so mainstream all along!

Oblivion

You'll know you've got over your exes when you've forgotten their last names.

I was about to send P an e-birthday card, but I completely forgot his last name. And since his email address is composed from his full name at so and so dot com, the fact that I've deleted every bits and pieces related to him when I was in a serious recovery program made me have to drop the noble intention. Well, probably it's not a good idea either to send him a card when I've tried so hard to get him off my little universe and finally succeeded.

Another test to find out if you're really meant to be with the man you're with at the moment is by trying to attach his surname after your first name. If it sounds lousy or just doesn't sound right, then probably you're not gonna end up with him. It's been tried and tested.

Extra Virgin

Upon eating salad at some Italian restaurant, a waiter approached me and nicely asked: "Would you care for more extra virgin olive oil, Miss?"

Extra VIRGIN olive oil! I was dumbfounded for a moment, that I let the fork poking fresh green lettuce float in mid-air, just before my slightly open mouth.

Regaining my consciousness split seconds later, I weakly shook my head as a signal for a no. Being offered extra virgin olive oil was like being offered to masturbate in a church, only later I had to confess it to a priest. Or it was like breaking death news to the parents of someone I had just killed. I felt so opposite of being virgin that I didn't deserve to have more extra virgin - even if it's only olive oil!

Note: Labels such as virgin, extra virgin, and pure are used to categorize olive oils according to their acidity.