Ayie and I and I are out to see Twilight. I will not tell you how many times I’ve seen it (I have different group of friends – who are not friends or don’t know each other – sharing the same penchant for the book) but I’ll tell you I haven’t gotten tired of the entertainment … by the movie patrons who continually sigh, squeal and worship Edward Cullen. Although I did not enjoy it at my first viewing, I am having a laugh now. I conclude that any actor can play Edward, Stephanie Meyer was just unbelievably astute in drawing girls to fall for him. I conclude that:
>.A boyfriend had to be a protector, a father figure and kinky when the situation calls for it. He also has to treat you like you’re smarter than him by excusing your stubbornness.
>.He is proud to be standing beside you and wants everyone to know you two are going out.
>.He say’s “sorry” when it’s clearly not his fault.
>.He only has eyes for you. Even if it means sneaking to your room just to stare at you all night and even if other girls are crazy for him.
>.He has to have a good family, with sets of parents still enamored with each other. You can also throw in a nice sister you’ll be best friends with.
>.He needs to know good music and Biology.
>.He’s smart but doesn’t walk around like you’re stupid.
>.He pays for everything and lets you eat just about anything without fearing that he might date an elephant soon.
>.Old-fashioned but street-smart.
>.Smells like he just got off the shower.
>.Keeps you warm when you’re cold.
>.He also needs to want you – and I mean want but won’t because he respects you.
>. He’ll write you letters and compose your own lullaby.
>. Instead of saying “see you later” he’ll instead be poetic and say “hurry back to me”
I have more but I don’t intend to enummerate them all – just the obvious ones. But I’m sure me and the general estrogen driven population would agree that guys can take a page or two from Edward Cullen’s book
This time last week I resolved to going out on a mountain trip with a friend and his friends (we were eventually introduced). By nightfall the following day, it took all our strength to not roll down the mountain and break our neck in the process.
Two days ago dancing hues of blue and purple became more prominent in my skin and the wound at the sole if my feet started to dry.
I wrote a lengthy discourse of my Saturday and Sunday but at the end I only achieved to summarize things. I forgot so many things, perhaps because I was pressed for time and I was hurting from bow to stern. Now that I’ve rested well and slept enough, things are flooding back.
Harris and Eugene were in charge. They’ve been very dutiful in preparing our meals and tents but all of us have seem to forgotten the good deed out of sheer fatigue. I even committed the mistake of excluding them from the initial article. Eugene prepared a delectible breakfast of tuna pasta. Harris on the other hand pitched my tent and walked with me the last few painful hours of the trek.
Running blind. The night trek was the sum of not having a pre-game. If you think we’re a bunch of adrenalin junky out to push ourselves to the limit, I’m sorry but no. We simply failed to sit down and have a meeting. So when the day arrived we sort of just kept moving without much ado, thus the night trek.
I bitched a lot but enjoyed it after. This is what they usually call masochist with a penchant to brag. But I call it “your opinion is relative and … bite me”. I was filthy from my feet to my hair. I kept falling every 20 feet and I landed hard on my backside once. The biting cold water bath that I had to endure around 3 in the morning was painful on my already sore muscles and I had to sleep on an uneven ground that rendered my earth pad useless. These are a few of what I recalled from the pain that I so willingly allowed and so far I like the story that entailed it.
Su plato mi plato. I shared plates because we were just too darn tired to look or get our own. I think there were two other people on my plate that night. They ate pork and I placed a tiny border just so it won’t mix with my tuna. It dawned on me that this is not the place to be picky and selfish. It was fun. I also drank in their water jugs and vice versa.
Tortured porter. I tortured my porter on the long way down. I kept whining and swatting the mosquitoes with contempt and it did not help the mood that continually soured as everyone was just in a hurry to get away from the mountain. He kept reminding me that it’ll take ages if I kept to my snail pace, I only had to say two words to shut him up (“I know!). I tipped him well and thanked him for not letting me die in my own putrid protest.
Suddenly brown. When I went up my backpack was black, my pants was black, my t-shirt white and my water jug was blue. When I went down everything was just about as brown as the mud we traveled on.
Abs and Dan said, they’d love to hike again in better weather condition. I say I’d like to have coffee with you one of these days. I’d love to see you clean longer and smiling. But yeah, let’s.