Mama Mia, X, and Eyebags

Last night, I went out on my first date.

It wasn't a date-date thing, or I don't know. He just popped this question asking "You have anything to do tonight?" and I said I might just prop up in bed and finish another novel because my roomate has a chatdate to keep.

He actually asked the same question a week before and I told him that we were having drinks with the Filipino community here. And then during the week he asked if we would fancy watching Kung Fu Panda one night and I said that it would be fine.

So it was another Friday afternoon and we were e-mailing each other how we are looking forward to 5:30 already so that we can finally pack up and finish another week. Then he asked if I wanted to watch a movie. I said I doubt if Kung Fu Panda is still showing because movies change on Fridays. And he said Mama Mia is up, that he wanted to see it (only I shouldn't tell anyone else because it's kind of embarrassing)and that it would start at 9pm.

So I said yes. To see a movie with the guy I promised not to like in a more than a friendly way. And it scared the whole life of me.

I have never been out with anyone I barely knew. Let alone at night. Let alone with just the two of us. I mean, sure, I've known him for two weeks, talked to him for like two hours, and exchanged office e-mails for about ten minutes a day. But when you think about it, he's still a stranger.

I had jitters all afternoon. So that must be how it feels to see someone you somehow like. I told him I'd meet him at the Casemates around 8:30 in the evening because it would still be a long walk to the cinema. But I have made up and readied myself thirty minutes earlier. So you can imagine the butterflies on my stomach, crazy as it may seem.

He's this type of person who never seem to run out of anything to say and I am the type of person who asks, listens and shares as well. It wasn't a boring walk and it was kind of fun to hear the stories he shared about his family, his hometown, the places he's been to, the languages he taught himself and the experiences he's had. I've gotten confident with my own conversational English as well, but I was constantly afraid I would blurt out something in Tagalog although he asked to hear me say a phrase or two.

We actually had a nice time watching the movie. He laughed a lot. I laughed a lot, hollered at times. I don't think he minded. I loved the songs. He said that the reason he wanted to watch the movie is that it plays the Abba songs that sort of reminds him of his mom, who has this collection of their songs back home. It was also funny to see Pierce Brosnan in the movie. Somehow, I still couldn't dissociate him of his James Bond character. I told him so, he said he feels the same.

He asked me if I wanted him to walk me home. I said I lived nearby. At eleven in the evening the streets are just starting to fill with the Friday night crowd. I wasn't prepared to end the night yet but I wasn't hungry so we started to walk home. I didn't need to invite him inside the gate because he just followed me. I said I'd show him our backdoor view of the Marina and of the Spanish border on the other side which I often tell him about.

It was a pretty sight at night, I said. He agreed. Then he sat himself along the embankment in front of all the docked yachts and little boats to admire the view. I sat beside him with my legs crossed. And the rest of the night passed by with more stories shared.

We didn't leave until well past midnight when we felt the night getting colder. He asked me what I was planning to do the next day as I held the gate to see him off. I told him I really haven't planned for anything. He asked for my number so that he can text me if ever he would be at the beach.

That night he wished me sweet dreams with a little "x" in it. That night I had a hard time trying to sleep. This morning I woke up with heavier eyebags around my eyes.

Fairy tales and ever after

July 17, 2008 - I'm scared...of my thoughts, of my emotions... I can't believe how vulnerable I can be, how my mind can easily be changed by something quite different.

I swore to everyone else that really, I don't see someone special in him. I mean, he's this average-looking dude who seems confident in himself, somewhat friendly and a little eager about starting a new life. But when you look deeper you'd realize how young he must really be, and maybe, a little unsure about himself. I didn't even give him a second glance when I first saw him. I doubt if he made me a look-over.

But there's something different about him, something I find amusing in a silly way. Like the way he writes about himself, or the stories he has to tell ,or the dreams of adventure he was willing to share.

I can see in him someone I can goof around, talk endlessly and do nothing and everything with...

And I don't like me thinking about that...

I don't like the secret laughter I let out over our exchange of office e-mails. Or the slight beating of my heart when he comes over to pick up some files or the rising anticipation of seeing him in the hallways to smile.

I don't like me thinking about what it would be like hanging out with him over drinks one of these days or going to the beach on weekends together or watching movies on Fridays nights with just the two of us.

More than anything, I just want to see him as a friend, someone I can allow to see me with all my hair down without fear of judgement. I can never do that if I would allow myself to feel these emotions that I am not prepared to deal with. Because I know myself too well. I live in constant denial of something that might be and the constant recourse has always been to run away from the person who threatens to hurt me.

And he will, no doubt about it.

He exists in a world so different from mine enveloped by people who may not be willing to share him. He is an enigma and breaking the walls that surrounds his mystery might suck in all the energy, all that I can spare, in me...

I've always believed in fairy tales, always wanted one for myself. Yet somehow I never believed I am good enough to be the princess or that someone valiant is really looking hard to find me...

That doesn't mean I've stopped dreaming of the day when I would post his picture and write something like "It took me awhile but it's worth it" like Shery did of her German boyfriend or shout to the world "Fairy tales do come true" like Lorie had of her husband.

My British friend will never be that guy. He's too young for the kind of commitment my fairy tale would require. He is too adventuresome to imagine about someday settling down. He's too happy about his life now to make some drastic changes. Yes, somehow, the qualities I find endearing in him are the same ones that would keep him from being my "ever after".

I just wish to be his friend, to shelter my heart from great expectations and to allow myself to know others without dreaming of them as the "one".

Maybe my fairy tale will come true in the end, with a "happily ever after" attached to. But just not now, not yet...

I'm Not Packing for Home

July 11, 2008 – Today commemorates my first week in a new job and I’m not about to set myself packing for the first flight back home.

But before I begin my narrative on the job, the training and the people, I must start off with the DHL boxes. Yes, the ones we sent here from the Philippines to avoid paying the excess aircraft baggage. We were informed of their arrival late Friday afternoon, the day after our 48-hour adventure, so we had no choice but to pick them up early Monday morning. Which was a hassle really, because we were expected to be at work by ten o’clock and the DHL office doesn’t open before nine.

It wasn’t a simple “picking up” thing because we also had to go through Customs before we can finally bring our boxes to our house. It was annoying especially since we had to take a ten-minute walk under the scorching heat of the sun with the shivering cool breeze of the early morning just to get to the customs office.

In the end, it wasn’t at all that bad, especially when the customs officer who attended to us was everything that could pop my (boy-crazy) eye – tall, unfriendly and totally cute! I absolutely go bonkers over snobbish men so forgive me if at this point I have totally forgotten my reservations for all Caucasian males. I even momentarily forgot that I was supposed to keep my heart waiting for (a snobbish, cute and totally smart) someone to “grow up” back home.

We took some time at the Customs so we had to call Paddy (our agent) so he could let our new employers know that we are going to be late. We were panicky by then because it’s absolutely a no-no to be late on your first day at a new job but he assured us that it will be alright and gave us a thirty minute allowance.

After mentally saying goodbye to the cute Customs guy who was chewing a gum and doing anything but mind us, we started the walk back to the DHL office. I told Eunice that I’m having second thoughts about the Brits, how they are better looking than the Americans and that the “CG” was cute. But she put me off by saying that most of them aren’t circumcised. Ew!!!

I wouldn’t dwell much on the boxes after that. They were totally heavy but we managed to get them on the taxi, off the taxi and lifted up eight floors to our rooms where they would stay unopened until we got back from work that same afternoon.

We did manage to arrive fifteen minutes later than our allowance and were whisked off to have another chat with Andrew, our Director, who is basically like an audit partner. It was a further talk about how the company works, what our jobs would be like and how excited they are to finally have us (they’ve waited four months). That was at least inspiring, and sort of scary if you know what I mean. They really have high expectations of us, since we have so much audit experience, so they say.

The rest of the day (and the training week for that matter) was a daze after that with Nettie and me sitting in front of a dark monitor waiting for we-know-not-what. It was crazy, especially when we’ve been through a computer simulation training program with PwC. But it was forgivable. We were informed that the induction program was ‘very new’ and that we were lucky because at least we’ve undergone training. The others who came before us didn’t have any.

The week-long training isn’t really worth the tale. The most interesting experience we’ve had is meeting the people we would work with everyday. The best adjective to describe them is that they are the friendliest bunch you could ever meet in this planet. It’s quite exaggerated you must think but it’s literally true. You can’t pass by the halls without smiling and saying hello to someone you meet. You can’t just come in the office and go straight to your desk without greeting everyone a pleasant day and asking about the night before. You can’t just leave the room without asking everyone else if you could get them something on your way back. It was a nice change from a competitive and sometimes gossip-infected (one I’m guilty of) work environment I have left.

They take life so lightly, these interesting people I have just known and grown fond of in a week’s time. They would start off the mornings with the usual “how was your evening?” and would go on talking about how they spent it lying around the beach to get ‘burned’. Then they would seem to be absorbed in their work for some time and suddenly before you notice it, they’ve started another talking marathon, which is mostly animated and requires a lot of walking around each other’s desks (it gets one to wonder if there’s really any work done). And by 5:30 in the afternoon, everyone is expected to have cleared their tables with the usual “See you tomorrow” or “Have a nice evening” or in case of Nettie and me, it’s just “Bye”.

I’ve gathered so much about their lives in a week than I have of the ex-officemates back home I have worked with for months and years. It shocked me at first to learn that here it’s quite normal to live with your boyfriend and talk about it or be in your late teens and pregnant and unmarried and have no plans to ever do. But you get used to it after awhile and you get amused by the stories they have to share about their domestic lives or their arguments with their boyfriends over smoking cigarettes (“you’re just telling them what’s best for them and they think you’re acting like their mothers). I even received an advice to never get married from someone who claims she is happily so.

Fashion is also very much welcome here. You only have to drop a one pound-coin if ever you want to dress down for work and this goes to charity. Our immediate superior is an ultimate fashionista. She has this crazy collection of shoes of different colors and enormous heels you couldn’t help but be amazed. She also loves wearing this baby doll dresses in which she looks absolutely fabulous in. And sometimes she arrives in the office wearing her hair in braided pigtails, she looks like a grown up doll.

More than that, I did meet my first British office crush on my first day at the office but it was short-lived anyway. He has this huge bright blue eyes and really charming smile it nearly took my breath away (haha). I cut my fantasies short though when I realized that he’s just a guy with a friendly smile and a romantic name. I’m glad I did because today I heard his voice and it was anything but sexy (sort of husky really). Worse, on our way out of the office, I saw him waiting by the gate with a cigarette stick in his hands (an absolutely big no-no. I can take the drinks, not the cigarettes). I smiled at him though, said goodbye and didn’t turn back. And yes, my heart remains yours, my Pinoy ‘Adrian’.

We also made somewhat friends with a guy named Chris who reminds us so much of Mamaw. He chatted with us during training breaks and during our long wait and walk back from the tax office. He’s on his ‘OJT’ which takes about a year and when he’s done, he’ll be going back to his university in England. He’s quite nice, the friendly nice, I mean. By now, I’ve totally lost interest in Englishmen. They could be really friendly but very few of them are gentlemen.

The job itself isn’t boring, contrary to what audit fanatics frightened us when we left our not so missed first work experience. It’s sort of the same as the tasks we usually did back then—preparing financial statements and tracing transactions to their original paper trails. Only this time, with smaller and less complicated clients, so far at least. But if you deal with like eighty accounts in one day, I’m sure you would be challenged.

So yes, I’m not packing up for home. Not yet. Not for the next two years at least.

Just a Friendly Guy

He's just a friendly guy, alright. I realized that now. But it totally crashed my sweet dreams of an English romance, rather sad.

Well, that's life. My first Gibraltar office crush was short-lived and I think I shouldn't find another one now. Really, office romances don't work. Look at what happened the last time, he proved to be harboring a really shocking secret that the world knows by now (of course he doesn't know that). I should have believed my guts by then but I also had this thing about "doubtful" men.

So enough of my crazy fancies. I'm back to real life. I guess with work it just has to be more work. You won't find me walking lazily along the hallways in the next few days, or waiting by the water dispenser hoping the cute guy with big blue eyes and pretty smile would pop by. I'll be good alone again, just the way it has always been, and will be in the next couple of years.

And my heart will remain, yours my seraph...

They are alright

I just had to write this down. I know I promised myself when I left Manila that I wouldn't look twice at an Englishman in this side of the planet, but dear me, I just might eat my words.

Well, I still prefer Filipino men, most of them anyway. In our third day at our new office, we realized how scarce British gentlemen are, and we haven't met any of them that day. Nettie and I had to sit in one of the trainings but we haven't got seats because we were the last to arrive. There were two men in the room, but they managed to sit comfortably in their couches while they watched two pretty ladies in skirts and high heels drag two impossibly large chairs inside the room.

But what they really are, the British I mean, is friendly. You can't walk down the road without having to smile at everyone you meet and say "Ola/Hello/Hi". It's a nice feeling, especially when back in Manila, people would have thought you weird if you greet them a pleasant day, even if you happen to share the same office.

This isn't a tale of British men in general, though, just one I am yet to know. I've met him the first day I came to my new work, in a room at the other side of the building. We were introduced in passing but I noticed him particularly because he has big beautiful blue eyes and a very welcoming smile.

I couldn't catch his name and I doubt if he remembers mine but I immediately looked him up the office directory (and Friendster, but I didn't find him there). He looked funny in the picture but I loved his name. I just couldn't pronounce it. How do I call him "Mikael" without sounding stupid?

I just had this thing for anyone called Mike/Michael, now it's Mikael. I don't know if he comes from England as most of them do. The profile says that he speaks English, Finnish and Spanish. A multilingual tongue--I could learn a lot from him!

I saw him again the next day, I had to pass his desk for a training session and I did it. I smiled at him. Perhaps the air of friendliness is catching up on me but that is something I don't normally do, especially with someone I've decided to like. And he smiled back (British people are friendly).

That wasn't the whole thing, though. He passed by our group a few moments later and before he turned towards the door, he looked back at me and I smiled. That definitely was a "moment".

Crazy and silly, really. For all I know he may already be "living in" with someone, or worse, married, although I doubt it because he looks too young to settle down yet. One way or another, it won't work anyway. But I guess I just needed to have that spice to look forward to coming in at work everyday. It feels extra nice to have a really cute guy smile sweetly back, especially one with pretty blue eyes.

My heart still beats for someone back home (I hope he forgives this "infidelity"), waiting for him to "grow up" and "catch up" on me. For now, at least.

Sunday mornings

Sunday morning after your first taste of Manila's nightlife, you're probably still camped in your bed after downing six glasses of "yellow iced tea". It's been five hours since you wished me well and said goodbye but your smile is still etched in every corner of my mind that sleep could not quite overcome me.

I have very few apprehensions about leaving and you have become one of them. After four years of hopelessly stalking you with my eyes, I have finally gotten more than the casual nod.

I could only laugh at the memory of my senior year when I had huddled my friends at the top of the stairs shrieking admiration everytime you scored a ball at the billiards table at the lobby below. Or the time I volunteered the JPIAns to sit in your departmental exams and relished two hours of silently gazing at you while you managed to consume the whole period when your classmates gave up after an hour. And how everytime I'm home for a short vacation I would scour the campus looking for your face even for a brief few seconds of unexplained bliss.

Maybe it was my penchant for elusive men that has me drawn to you. Or maybe it was because I see the face of my favorite Korean TV character in your own. All I know is that you couldn't do anything more to win my heart.

But how to win yours was never an option. Somehow, I never got around to asking God for something I know He wouldn't give me anyway. It didn't help that you are my younger sister's classmate or the fact that you call me "ate".

Nevertheless, it brought back the teen in me to finally be able to exchange a few words with you. Never mind that it was over your glasses of beer and my own regular iced tea. Never mind that I found myself already making excuses for such deviation from my own standards of an ideal man. Never mind if it had only been for a few hours.

Yet I couldn't help but wonder what I would be missing after I go. Saturday afternoon chats with review stories over TV, secret glimpses and exchange of smiles inside the church and maybe videoke nights once in awhile. And I wouldn't be there to personally clasp your hands when you pass the board exam or give you tips on your first job interview.

I would be miles away in another continent, chasing after a dream that's within the grasps of my hands. But I will always be wondering, never quite letting you go, hoping that when I come back I could still catch up with what I have been missing.

There may still be Sunday mornings of hangovers for you, but there will only be hang-ups for me, contemplating on that last goodbye, holding on to that face with a smile that would always be my sweetest memory of the man who will never be mine.