Lipstick Memories

Among the many complexities of being human is the desire to be remembered. That is why men and women go to great lengths – often expressed in simplified ways – to find themselves in the most far-flung place on earth: the other’s thoughts.

The other may have been a part of a relationship – that which has happened out of bizarre, unconventional circumstances; coincidences where we put meaning to, such that, they become a work of fate. It may be that, which have left us forever on a limbo, not really because the other has gone in the absence of verbal pronouncements, but rather, because we choose to look, with hope, not beyond the grey areas. It is the relationship that might as well never happened when it had, once, at a certain moment in our lives... and of the other’s life.

This realization creates a certain kind of fear among ourselves. We are afraid to be forgotten… more than we are afraid to forget.

Lengthier relationships have the privilege of creating bigger spaces for memories and more opportunities to create them. There will always be the missives that will recount lost affection, pictures that frame a face; an expression once worn, and videos that replay moments that will never happen again.

But what concession do short, unpronounced relationships deserve but only those as mere as a smudge of ourselves?

Lipstick – on the cup of coffee we consciously leave plunked on his cupholder; innocently smudged on his cheek after a goodbye kiss. Their fame is only good until the cup has been tossed to a waiting bin elsewhere along the road or until they have been smoothly erased by just one wipe of a hand.

Maybe lipstick on the collar is better in some ways. They linger for a few hours, overnight. They fade the next day, with soap and water, after a furious rubbing of two tightly closed fists.



TIP LINKS:
For women: How to avoid putting MAKE-UP IN ALL THE WRONG PLACES
For men: HOW TO CLEAN LIPSTICK FROM THE COLLAR

Photo credit: Stain Expert

About A Friend

Our similar adversities were among the things that brought us closer together. It was a surprise, having been introduced once, barely acquainted, that we would be in constant contact with each other -- exchanging leads, talking about our careers and sharing our woes as young single mothers who both came from abusive relationships and yet, who dream of that one big love of our lives.

There would soon be the regular get-togethers, independent of the connection that conjoined us as friends. They all ended well; I always went home feeling stronger as a young woman and relieved of all my apprehensions knowing that I have a friend who was putting up well with more than what I was going through.

I admired her, though at the expense of my perception of myself as a mother. I paid high respect for her uncanny ability to finish school while nursing a baby in between classes, work hard (and save) to pay for her child’s pre-school and still be so hands-on to his needs.

I was earnestly happy when she broke the news that she has found herself a new love – one who readily took her two-in-one package deal. That was also when we started to see less of each other. I understood, just like any good friend would. And I promised to myself that I shall always be around and ready to listen and help, just like any real friend would.

Two summers ago, she asked if we can meet for coffee and chat. I readily said yes, hoping to hear even more better things from her. But my excitement was cut short by the somber expression she wore as she walked in the café’s smoking section. I knew that something was wrong and her stories confirmed this. But we parted with hope made visible by the smiles on our faces.

It was the last time I have seen her well.

In the proceeding months, I saw her self-inflicted deterioration from the woman she used to be. I knew no other way to be her good friend but to distance myself and let her deal with her problems independently.

Months had again passed before our next meeting.

At the café, she walked in with a big smile; looking so much more at ease with herself than the last time I saw her. Inside, I was hoping not to hear the same stories that drove her to her self-imposed exile; the same problems that her stubbornness will not allow to be solved. But again, my hopes were unheard. I learned about her sufferings on top of her heels, and of those of her loved ones out of her own unconscious efforts.

It was just too much that I can bear for a friend: watching her deteriorate out of her own means.

We stood looking at each other for a long time – I, with so much concern, asking her to take care of herself in between sighs of hopelessness and her, repeatedly assuring me that she will be alright.

I walked away feeling guilt from a forced indifference.

Photo credit: Deterioration in Art at www.artreview.com

Comfort Women – Their Tales and Revelations Behind Closed Doors

One can look at prolonged comfort room breaks in two ways. It can be seen as an annoying phenomenon, as perceived by men. Or it can be regarded as a privilege to be upheld by girls and women alike.

What really goes on behind the closed doors of the female restroom is none of males’ business, though no woman will deny having men as a favorite restroom business agenda. Well, among many others.

So, what do women really do behind the closed doors of common washrooms? Why do they go in herds and make men hang on for what seems like longer than the wait they endure during courtship?

First of all, unlike men, women have to stand in queues for their turn to urinate. Women have to deal with more than just buckles, buttons and zippers. There are trousers or skirts, together with hosieries and underwear, which all have to be pulled all the way down to their knees… after the buckles, buttons and zippers have been loosened. Then, they have to reverse the entire process.

Hygiene and make-up re-touch are also among the reasons.

But the meat of this post actually lies on the supposition that one woman does not truly know another woman until she has shared a comfort room break with her. Many friendships have been formed inside the washroom. Some might have started with something as superficial as comparing each other’s lip tint. Some may involve a bit of mentoring, like showing someone how to properly apply liquid eye liner or teaching her the advantages of using a gel sun block over the lotion type. Some may have been born out of an act of kindness – giving someone a generous amount of pulls from her toilet paper or shelling out a peso or two for someone who needs a sanitary pad from the vending machine.

Girls excuse themselves in groups in the middle of dinner or a night out basically, to whip up a perfect plan for the night. Usually, girls take this opportunity to ask for their girl friends’ opinion of the guy they are with. In worst cases, the comfort room serves as the venue to discuss the great escape from a bad company.

True to its name, the comfort room provides comfort to distressed women; that is, comfort other than those which are biologically required. Many have shed uncontrollable tears while concealed in cubicles. Some girl friends take time to talk to their heartbroken friends inside the washroom.

Other than all these, women can nowhere else be as sincere as they are inside the four corners of the comfort room. They talk about their lives and of secrets best revealed in the hush-hush of this place.

It is most likely that men will be even more stupefied after reading this post. Why do women have to excuse themselves for comfort, is perhaps, their next question.

Well, the answer is simple. It is why they call them comfort rooms. :p

A Great Long Weekend

I love long weekends.

For me, they're the perfect time to bond with my family, meet with long-lost friends and accomplish something domestic or personal -- like checking the consistency of my color-coded closet, dusting all my old stuff, sorting through memory boxes and whatnots and most of all, evaluating my state of mind (or heart).

Started the weekend with a good Friday. I went to Gamboa to say goodbye to our accounting staff, si Rose, who's joining another company.

Later, I spent a lovely, laidback evening in the company of a good friend. It was great getting to know him and sharing my own stories, especially with a bottle of sweet wine and a box of assorted chocolates, which we halved and sampled one at a time.

I spent Saturday taking care of Krissy. I just realized that I have finally gained back her love and trust, after a few weeks of coming home late on most nights.

Still the same on Sunday. Started reading Love in the Time of Cholera again to finally finish it, after years of being quarantined on the pile under my TV. I then served as a lector in the evening mass. It's great that Krissy already seems to be inclined about doing the same thing when she grows up. :)

My sister and I


On Monday morning, my parents, sister and I brought Krissy to a different pedia for a second opinion. She's well naman so there should be no more worries. I'm proud she's super brave and very good at following the doctor's instructions. We later went to The Block. Had lunch at Martabak. (Always liked it there.) Then went shopping for a bit. Krissy had a great time at Toy Kingdom. Bought her her "wish-a-wish-a-woo-hoo" wand (something I coined; and something she'd repeat as "mish-a-mish-a-moo-hoo"), her Boots (Dora's monkey best friend) speaking toy... whatever it's called, and a new set of flash cards. We then had iced chocolate at Figaro, where she opened all her loot. I kind of had a hard time saying goodbye to her with her please-don't-go-mommy look. I was afraid she'd burst into a crying spell. (Geez, she's learned much from her mommy-o!)

Proud of her loot


Mmm... Love my iced choco!


"Mish-a-mish-a-moo-hoo"


I Love Boots


So after a bit of sweet talk, I went to Tiendesitas to check the food stalls there. See? I had to work on a vacation since the week's going to be pretty tight. I need info by Thursday at 7:30 in the morning while the my Tuesday and Wednesday are already so full of To-Dos, so what's there to do, right? I asked another good friend, si Big D, if he'd like to follow and drink with me. He was game but knowing how spontaneous that friend is, I just found myself renting a swimsuit and spending a very, very relaxing evening at a water spa. It was super worth it. I really, really love this guy (as in love in an uber platonic way). The spa's indeed very therapeutic, I got myself out of depression and emotional dependence such that I was able to take what-might-have-been two big emotional let downs for me level-headedly. If you happen to read this, thank you again. You're really such a great friend. Promise, I'd write about you and pimp you out in cyberspace. Hehe :p

Anyway, I have nearly overcame all the consequences of having such a great long weekend. One more day, then I'm out of it.

A feel-good Friday to all!

Song for the Week:

No One - Alicia Keys

A Sneak Peek at Religioso's Latest Collection

Just some of the clothes I like from Religioso's Latest Collection. Don't we all love the collars and the details that make Religioso clothes speak for their name?

Gaetana Dress

Detail of the Gertrude Dress

Detail of the Greta Top

Life is like a box of chocolates...

Just found this while looking for someone's Perugina chocolates.

Eat your hearts out, my dear readers :p

____________________________________


Some people are semi-sweet; others are just plain nutty. Don't cry over spilled milk - unless, of course, it's chocolate milk. There is a fine line between vice and addiction. Blind dates are like chocolate - they're usually chunky and they quickly disappear. When life presents you a rocky road, just eat your way out of it. Money can't buy you love - but it can buy you chocolate - 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, 365 days a year. Keep your fingers off other people's bonbons. Mothers-in-law are like chocolate syrup; a little goes a long way. Flowers and champagne may set the stage, but it's chocolate that steals the show. An ounce of truffles is worth a pound of anything. Milk chocolate .. for all it's worth. You never really know a person til you've shared a box of chocolates with them. A kiss is just a kiss, but a chocolate kiss is bliss. True love will remain long after the chocolates have gone ... provided there's another box. The best things in life are not fat free. Nothing is worth getting sick over except, of course, chocolate. When all else fails, fudge it! And remember, if life is like a box of chocolates, take a bite out of everything.


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Can't wait! :p

The Best Days

Thursday morning. Had to wake up extra early to make it to a 7:30 am breakfast meeting at Mario's Kitchen. I didn't. But I'm glad I made it 5 minutes early.

It was the first big group meeting called for the organizers of the upcoming Children's Rosary Rally. The plan sounds good and I'm optimistic that coordination for this year will not be as stressful as last year's.

Evening. I got pretty hyped up when this really good new friend of mine called for a private choco fest! We're both big fans of chocolate and we can't wait to do it. Might as well call our rendezvous, "Chocoholics Anonymous." :p

I later got a message from a more senior colleague asking me if I can make it to an important breakfast meeting on the next day. So...

Friday morning. Dropped by the office first to properly inform my boss that I'm supposed to attend an 8 am meeting. I'm actually thankful that since my job requires a lot of field work, my boss trusts me enough to allow me to leave the office anytime. This is just one of the many things I enjoyed when I was still acquiring accounts for my old job. I get to go out and meet people of all sorts.

It started to rain hard when I got on a cab but the good thing was that it stopped when I reached my destination. I haven't been to High Street/Serendra for the longest time and I was surprised that so many establishments were already operational since those times I hung out a lot in the area.

I love my mornings good -- waking up early, saying a prayer, walking a bit and having good breakfast. Boy, I miss those times when my dad would ring the doorbell in my pad so we can have breakfast together in Katipunan. Or those times when we'd go to our favorite breakfast places when he drives me from home to my pad on early Mondays.

Again, I must say that I am really thankful that I get to sit down with the local CSR gurus and watch how they work. It's very humbling plus I feel so privileged about learning so much from them.

This is what's so good about being able to identify one's own passion. You can always live it out. Earlier this week, I got to have a restroom conversation with one of our company's lawyers; also one of the women I admire at work. Again, I thought that it's really such a small world. She happens to be friends with this woman who spoke in my course's career talks. I have always thought she had the job I wanted. My officemate told me that apparently, her friend was asking her to help her look for someone who'd replace her post in the Swedish Embassy just two Aprils ago. Boy! It could've been me! :p

Anyway, Saturday was something else. Loved the whole of it! Brought our GK kids to ACPACI's special screening of Repertory Philippines' Mulan at Onstage, Greenbelt 1. Brought Krissy with me and she seemed to have so much fun. This plus the fact that I've heard much of my favorite compliment -- Krissy and I having splitting images, made Saturday so great!






Today is Sunday and I am looking forward to more activities with my family.