:D

88-year-old Nanay: (Musing out loud) I lost my virginity at the altar of the Moonlit Terrace hotel in Azcarraga, Manila.

Me: Eww!

P: (Giggles.)

:D


Lola still feisty at 88.

They were purty . . .

Dagnabbit.

Last night I dreamt that I had written words of utter beauty. They were so spectacular and so moving that had it not been a dream I’m sure I would have been incapable of writing them (heh). But, as soon as the dream ended, the words, too, disappeared into ether. I could no longer retrieve them hard as I tried; memory, it seems, has foiled me yet again.

Damn you, brain, damn you.

He's loverly.

Sometimes (not often because, after all, he is a quiet and shy man) he says the most WONDERFUL things to me and I start feeling tenderly, oh so tenderly toward him and I go around beaming, very much like a sunflower beams at the sun.

Mmm, mmm, mmm!

You know how a whiff of Hawaiian Tropic sunblocks can mentally transport you to a sunny beach and how, like me, you probably often wished that someone would bottle that smell into a perfume, something you could spray on yourself on a whim? Well Lush has come up with products nearly as good--a shampoo (Trichomania), conditioner (Coolaulin), and soap (I Should Coco) that smell brilliantly of coconut milk, cocoa butter, and other divine things. I looove them! They don't come very cheaply, but I'd gladly save up, cut back on food and books (two of my absolute favorite things) just so I could buy and bathe in these products whenever the mood striked. After using them, you will feel sooo clean, I tell you (remember coconuts have antibacterial, anti-protozoal, and antiviral properties). You'll probably end up bathing more that once a day, they're that addictive. The soap can be drying so moisturizing afterwards is recommended. I don't really recommend the shampoo as it comes in solid form and may cause dandruff, but the conditioner and soap are must-buys. E-mail me if you like them, too, so that we can gush together! 

'La lang. 'Lang magawa . . .

Sitting side by side,
in knee-deep water,
you wondered out loud
what it would be like
to touch a starfish.
After all, how could you not
when one such beauty
lay enticingly
very near your hand?

I cautioned you against touching
unknown things.
There is always the danger of getting pricked
and getting hurt.
You grinned--
a silly quarter-moon grin--
and we left things at that.

Skipping stones,
we laughed
as we searched the shallows for the smoothest,
flattest rocks.
The trick, you said, is in the correct bending of the back,
the right angling of the elbow,
and the proper warming and caressing of the stone . . .
as if one is warming and caressing a heart.

Hold it, you said, neither too tightly
nor too loosely,
and when the stone is ready,
with a flick of the wrist and very quickly,
let it go.

Kiara et Tutu.

For Doris, who loves Kiara just as much as we do (maybe more! He he he). 


Pensive.


Posing.


Rare moment of truce.

(Read Kiara's story here.