Memories of February 26s Past

I can fully remember two.

First was when Noy and I started this thing called togetherness twelve years ago.


After Humanities class at the new college building on February 26, 1998, we had a conversation in the middle of the classroom just when our classmates were leaving. It when on like this -

Noy (sliding his hands to my arms after resting his right across the back of my chair the entire time at class): So... (smiling) do I still have to ask....?

Me: Do I still have to answer (grinning)?

Noy (arms around my waist): So I don't have to ask... (grinning)?

Me (burying my face to his chest & hugging him): (inaudible giggles)

so technically, there never a yes or no thing. It bordered on "it just happened".

The details are in our theknot.com page we built while preparing for our wedding.

Nine years later, we had our pre-nuptial photos taken.

It had been drizzling since the morning of February 26, 2007. I was late for my trial hair and makeup appointment because Noy picked me up late, but Norman was a gracious and emphatic person. He's a very good artist, too. We were leaving the salon when Chito Vecina asked that the shoot be postponed, otherwise the quality of the pictures might suffer.
We could not let it happen so I prayed really hard while Noy d rove to Harbour Square. I mean I was ready to buy a really nice umbrella and some cool rain gear, if circumstances would ask for that. We really just wanted to have the shoot done on our special day. We were celebrating nine years for crying out loud.
The little streaks of sunshine on the car window a few minutes after felt like little warm pats on the back. We were ready. We were thankful.

But then there were little puddles on the floor.

And I was a sweaty nervous wreck.


But God gave me my sunset shot.


And the love of my life beside me through happy and sad, on-cam & off.


I could not ask for more.

Cliche Time!

Love is sweeter the second time around. It's older than our forefathers' harana days. It has become a movie and telenovela staple story. And we've seen different versions of it, from the "almost kinda like it" to the "really?" versions that seem unbelievable but we choose to buy anyway, for the sake of kilig and as testament to our undying belief that love, however impossible the issues surrounding it, surpasses circumstances and will remain true & within reach, because love moves in mysterious ways.

I have my own version, and it came to a wonderful culmination yesterday.
Sing is a good friend of mine. We went to high school together and sang in the same church choir. we had different sets of friends then but our friendship stood the test of time. She took an engineering course at a different university and worked her ass off right after graduation while I dissected corpses and memorized generic names. We saw ourselves through boyfriends (although I officially had just one) and all the controversies the foolish guys brought, and I'm just so proud that she got over them - fashionably.

Until Obet came. I didn't see him coming. Sing & I were sitting at mass sometime in 2005. I was a fresh medical board passer & Sing asked me about her seemingly increasing appetite. I jokingly replied that maybe she was pregnant. She laughed. Two days later she called, telling me she was indeed pregnant. Obet the sperm donor did not want to acknowledge the poor little thing. It's the same old story at this point - girl goes through pregnancy alone, curses the father in between painful contractions (which didn't work anyway; Sing went through CS), gives the child her own surname, raises the child on her own, moves on and forgets the painful past.
Four years and a failed attempt to make another past relationship work out later (I just hate knowing these guys at all!), Obet slowly & painfully tried to introduce himself to my fast-growing godson, Julian Angelo, or Lian, as his Daddy. And he succeeded. Little did we, Sing's friends, know that building a relationship with Lian wasn't Obet's lone agenda. Sing & he became fast friends and good "parenting pals".

Sing called last holiday season, inviting me to her wedding. Her & Obet's wedding. A shriek, then a tear, that's what Noy recalls because we were driving to dinner with a couple-friend to celebrate his birthday that night.


It was a simple, no-frills wedding - only casually-dressed close friends & relatives in attendance. Papa was one of the ninongs. It was nice to come back to the church where all of us in the family used to serve. The priest knew Sing very well because she continued to serve as lector/commentator when our choir took a gradual dissolution. But that's a different story.

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Speaking of second time, my wedding & engagement rings breathed a new life at the start of the week. Noy had one of the missing diamonds (must have loosened when I started work at PGH) replaced on the wedding ring, and had it cleaned as well, including his. The engagement ring was cleaned and plated and looks very pretty now. It's a fitting pre-celebration of our "togetherness" next Friday. I'll surely blog about it next time =)

I Love February

Not because of Valentine's day... Well ok, sometimes. But primarily because Noy & I are celebrating our "togetherness" (Gee. How does a married person call that time when she/he & spouse first became boyfriend & girlfriend? ) this month. This year we're celebrating our 12th, and that feels exciting.

Today, however, I'd like to share this blog entry I made about two years ago on what used to be our wedding site. I was on the crossroads of career opportunities when this happened, and the incident helped me decide. It happened in July, but since it's largely heart-related, figuratively and, more importantly, literally, I remember this life-changing moment whenever Valentine season comes.



I haven't had similar attacks for the longest time now, thank God. That tells me I made the right decision. Which makes me love February even more.

If you're planning to give that significant person a Valentine gift, consider a heart check. We have good internists and cardiologists in our country.

=) happy loving!

A Little (Serious) Public Exposure

Last year, I was asked to lead my staff in vaccinating 50 or so barangay health workers linked to the Cervical Cancer Prevention network program. The event was entitled The Tour of Hope Philippines 2009 Gives Back. Since the event in May has generated quite a lot of support for its advocacy, they have decided to give it back to the community by doing such mass vaccination. Since it sounded sweat-generating (hey, it could be more than 50) my staff and I decided to wear scrubs so we'd be comfortable.

On the morning of December 3rd, mass vaccination day, I decided not to wash my hair since it had only been 6 hours since I last washed it. (I have an improving case of stress-induced alopecia. My doctor told me to wash it only once a day, and I prioritize washing it at night after it has caught all the dirt along Taft Avenue, which I do not like to take with me to my clean pillows and bed.)

I wore the scrubs I wore almost every other week to work in Laguna. I bought it from my suki in Tutuban Center. I love its color, magenta, and the little purple flowers on the lime green piping highlighting its mock overlap V-neckline.

I wore the nice pair of denim pants Angie found for me in an ukay-ukay in Calamba. It was mine for a freaking Php 250 (around USD 5).

I wore a dirty old pair of blue chuck taylors, handed down from my sister in law.

The program has almost started at the Cancer Institute auditorium when Karen, the CECAP Coordinator, told me I was going to vaccinate a patient in front of the audience to mark the ceremonial vaccination, and for documentation, e.g., photos. Fine. No doctor will be too cheap-looking when a glaring white long-sleeved coat, Makati Med logo emblazoned (Yup. My last coat made was during internship.) covers all the ugly stuff beneath.

I went back to the office, fixed my hair a little and went to my chair, on the back of which the much-trusted coat hanged everyday, barely used. A closer check revealed grime on the collar, cobweb remnants on the sleeves, some unremovable dirt on the back.

Trying to be disinterested, I walked back up to the auditorium, raised my head up high, and tried not to shake. Who will the media people be anyway? I didn't even bring my own camera because this wasn't supposed to be THAT big.

And so my name was called. The patient I talked to earlier went up front, and prepared herself. I took the vaccine off from its packaging and there they were - 20 or so media men & women huddled around us, logo-bearing cameras (Studio 23, IBC 13, UN TV, Philippine Star, Malaya, etc.) shoved at my face. Someone instructed me not to push it all at once; I had to hold the actual vaccination up until everyone's got a good shot.

CLICK CLICK CLICK they all went. I started to sweat with all that spotlights literally on me...

And my unwashed hair..

And my overused faded scrubs..

And my ukay-ukay jeans..

And my old dirty shoes..

And my filthy doctor's coat..

And the thought inside my head that said "Why on earth wasn't I told I was going to be on TV?".

I could not help but smile.. no, grin. Until someone told me not to.

I was like, seriously?!

Oh and by the way, this one & only article that reached our office with my photo on it had my name misspelled unforgivably. Jeez.

Interested in joining the Tour of Hope Philippines 2010? Click here.