How much of me am I willing to reveal? How much do you want me to?

There’s no dignified way of saying it especially when you know you are hurting.

I was told that since I was born under the sign of Cancer, I’m like the crab  -  hard and strong on the outside but could be easily penetrated to reveal what really is soft inside.

And maybe for once, just this once, I believe the stars. Like the crab, when hurt, I either retreat to my shell or go for that famous "side step" (words not originally mine). Translation? Either I try to justify things or pretend nothing is wrong when in fact, everything is breaking and tearing me apart.

I am naive. Apart from the otherwise negative description of such adjective from my internet bestfriend, Wikipedia, "naive" is also described as having a child-like innocence.

Maybe I still am a child. I believe in romance, in happy ever after endings of real life’s fairy tales. I believe in soft, sincere and passionate kisses. I believe in the power of flowers. I believe in slow and sweet dances.

People perceive me as having a facade of an aggressive, determined and brave person when in fact, yes, I still am no more than a child. I cry to seek for comfort. I cry to seek refuge from pain. I cry myself to sleep only to end up crying the moment I wake up.

I hurt people. I get hurt. I make persons I love most cry. The persons I trust and love most make me cry.

There’s no explaining it. There’s no justifying it even. Like the crab, the moment I knowingly plunge myself into a trap, there’s no escaping the fact that sooner or later, my softer and perhaps, weaker side will be revealed.

But still, at the last minute, I try to justify it: Crying doesn’t make me any less of a person anyway. =’(

I have always, always loved tongue twisters. From my very first speech lab class in first grade to my Speech 111 (Voice and Diction) class as a Speech Communication major in UP, nothing really beats a full serving of tongue twisters that could certainly make my day.

Sounds geeky? Though finding people who share my uber-sinister passion for activities of the literal tongue-twisting kind may seem like a no mean feat, it is, in actuality, like shooting for the stars.

Korina Sanchez does it before her show, Eminem does it in his rap songs, most event and variety show hosts do it, even the "kailangan-pa-bang-imemorize-yan" DJs do it. In fact, one of my friends who used to hate anything that dealt with speech until he eventually plunged into the call center industry, used his newly-developed love affair for tongue twisters to court his beautiful accent trainer (after his training, of course!).

Being once a radio announcer/DJ myself, I should know. I would always tell my "eager" (yeah, I love you guys!) Public Speaking and Leadership studes that it really is just no more than a mind over matter task. Since the tongue is no more than a just a mechanical part of the body, it could definitely be controlled by the mind (although of course, everything is really controlled by the mind). As a radio DJ and as a speech trainer, having known that every little task I do is timed, I know I should always never let my tongue get ahead of myself. "Thinking before speaking" is my mantra therefore whenever I am or have to be in my best communicator/communicologist (haha, I wish!) mode.

Of course, never to be forgotten is the importance of breathing. Breathe, you guys! Unless you wanna die. Haha.

The road to proper breathing is no longer one of the best kept secrets of the trade what with people nowadays scrambling for accent courses that SHOULD HAVE, first and foremost, a module on the importance of breathing on speech.

Think and act like a balloon. Take in air, expand your stomach (it’s really the diaphragm) and then release. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale slowly. Count 1-2-3-4. Hold 1-2-3. Release slowly. Count 1-2-3-4. Do it this time with a longer duration. And inhale………………..

Breathing and tongue twisters? It’s as simple as 1-2-3. First, breathing gives the necessary oxygen the brain needs in order to function properly. Second, for the brain to function properly as to what or how we may need it to be, it should be able to get used to whatever activities it involves itself into, even prolonged breathing. Third, fast and almost non-stop speech activities such as tongue twister exercises require proper control of breathing.

And before I instigate the abuse and exposure of my own "copyright" as a speech trainer, here are a list of my all-time-fave tongue twisters:

Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers.
Did Peter Piper pick a peck of pickled peppers?
If Peter Piper picked a peck of pickled peppers,
where’s the peck of pickled peppers Peter Piper picked? <—– CLASSIC!

Unique New York.

Six thick thistle sticks. Six thick thistles stick.

Is this your sister’s sixth zither, sir?

The sixth sick sheik’s sixth sheep’s sick.

Toy boat. Toy boat. Toy boat. <—- Think "Pasko Paksiw, Paksiw, Pasko"

I slit the sheet, the sheet I slit, and on the slitted sheet I sit. <—- CLASSIC! Hehe. Sleet…Slit…Sheet…Sh*t…=p

She sells sea shells by the sea shore.
The shells she sells are surely seashells.
So if she sells shells on the seashore,
I’m sure she sells seashore shells.

A Tudor who tooted a flute
tried to tutor two tooters to toot.
Said the two to their tutor,
"Is it harder to toot
or to tutor two tooters to toot?" <—- Speech 111 memories with Prof. Pinzon

Shy Shelly says she shall sew sheets.

A big black bug bit a big black bear,
made the big black bear bleed blood. <—- Convergys CCT Training (We won! We won! Haha)

It’s summer once again, her royal oiliness joins forces with the two S’s (Sun + Stress) to create that “harrassed look”:

“A BIG BLACK BUG bit a big black bear, made the big black bear bleed blood.”

*****

Work Ethics 101: Do your job and do it well and never conclude nor judge unless you hear it “straight from the horse’s mouth”.

*****

Though I know law school is no bat cave that could keep and shield me from the craziness of life, pathetic me is still hopeful that should I indeed go back, I could at least regain that self-esteem I thought I already gained only to lose once again just a few weeks back.

*****

Say that again? P2.5 M a month?!!!! Whoa dude…Now I’m pressured…

*****

I really do hope our family could have Belen for keeps. =)

*****

Berns and Czazy. I’m really happy for the both of ‘em. It seems like yesterday when Czazy and I were teasing Berns for being the “ideal boyfriend”. Now, she is his’ and he is hers’. Natuluyan. Haha.

*****

Paranoia. Naivety. It never ends. Patience is truly one hell of a virtue that I could never ever learn.

*****

As Rain aptly put it, “It’s not falling out of love, it’s losing the magic.” I think this song summarizes everything that’s in my head before I made that decision:

How do you keep the music playing

How do you make it last

How do you keep the song from fading too fast

How do you lose yourself to someone and never lose your way

How do you not run out of new things to say…

And since we know we’re always changing

How can it be the same

And tell me how, year after year, you’re sure your heart will fall apart

Each time you hear his name I know the way I feel for you, it’s now or never

The more I love, the more that I’m afraid

That in your eyes I may not see forever, forever…

If we can be the best of lovers yet be the best of friends

If we can try with every day to make it better as it grows

With any luck, then I suppose, the music never ends

I know the way I feel for you, it’s now or never

How do you keep the music playing

The more I love, the more that I’m afraid

How do you make it last

That in your eyes I may not see forever, forever

How do you keep the song from fading, keep the song from fading too fast

(“How Do You Keep The Music Playing” by James Ingram and Patti Austin)

What I learned about life, I learned from the comedy series "Scrubs":

That sometimes, you’re not really as happy as you think you are.

And what to do about it?

Well, it all boils down to the risks you decide to take.

I know sooner or later you’ll be asking for an explanation; an explanation that you and I want to make sense. But no, even I, myself, can’t provide any bit of rationality to it.

It took me some time to realize that I’ve outgrown you; that I want more, I need more.

And it can’t mean about me losing the capability to understand your priorities.

I guess everything’s just too much for me. And now it’s my time to say goodbye.

How hard can it be? Remember when you told me twice beforehand how you’d wish she would never be affected nor get hurt? It’s the same feeling. How I wish I didn’t have to hurt you. You’ve been good. You’ve been perfect. You were the right one… during that time.

But right now, I just can’t be the one for you.

Sometimes, we really just have to stop in our tracks and smell the roses (sampaguita from the local hawker would do) to appreciate the fact that we are blessed.

And these are what I’m loving:

1. I love barging into a clothing and accessories shop and spending at least P4000 with no cash at hand but with GCs (gift certificates) in tow.

2. I love the smell of buttered sweet corn and barbecued chicken gut in the afternoon.

3. I have been loving blue American roses (the ones found in Holland Tulip) since the first time I had the realization that roses do not just come in red and white.

4. I love bumping into friends from the past and the not-so-distant past while walking along Ayala.

5. Never thought I’d love the feeling that everything seems just like yesterday especially when I see my old acquaintances, colleagues and friends successful in the fields they’ve chosen.

6. I’m loving my hair now!

7. I love the veggie and meat combo meal at the Jolly Jeep behind Standard Chartered Bldg.

8. I love MC! (my version of "I love NYC")

9. I love my friends!

10. I love tan and violet  -  my colors.

11. I love the smell of Yellow Cab’s expensive pizza. It’s expensive so I am just contented at smelling it, anyway, it’s free! =)

12. I love Kiko Machine! I’m so proud of you Bheng and Manix! You rock guys!

13. I love KFC’s original recipe of its chicken.

14. I love shopping in Landmark!

15. I love Greenbelt. I grew up going to that area and seeing how it evolved from a "forest" into one of the world’s best shopping centers.

16. I love my province, Laguna, especially my city, Santa Rosa.

17. I love playing badminton.

18. I love being a DJ and an events host!

19. I love my current company, ECC International.

20. I love eating using chopsticks even if it takes 48 years before I get to finish my mixed rice.

21. I love the people I’ve established lasting relationships with over the past years.

22. I love steamed broccoli.

23. I love baguio beans and sayote and eating it with office buddy Mechelle.

24. I love visiting my ukay-ukay haunts.

25. I absolutely love how Friendster made it possible for me to connect with past acquaintances.

26. I love Mr. Bear!

27. I love travelling in the mornings.

28. I love Caliraya Lake even if I  don’t know how to swim. Hehehe.

29. I love Calgon’s Turquoise Seas Body Spray.

30. I love the UP College of Law.

31. I certainly love my thesis adviser, Professor Regina Banaag-Gochuico. Without her, I wouldn’t have graduated. =)

32. I love the smilies/emoticons on PinoyExchange and Peyups.

33. I love YouTube.com! Haha. Plugging.

34. I love Speechpower. Another plugging.

35. I love pay day! Of course I do!

36. I love Indian food.

37. I love Atty. Ibarra Gutierrez (I mean, his way of teaching of course, haha) even if he flunked me in Crim 1 (but my grade was 4.02…..arggghh). Haha. Shame! Shame!

38. I love Mt. Banahaw even if it gave me a bruised/crippled body (okay I’m exaggerating) the last time I went there.

39. I love The Sims! I’m a frustrated architect/interior designer, you know.

40. I love making people happy for as long as they don’t take advantage of my occasional naivety.

41. I love massaging people and having them ask me repeatedly afterwards whether I’m a physical therapist or a professional masseuse or not. Hehehe.

42. I love the creepy feeling of being able to predict correctly ala Madam Auring. Hehe. Peace.

43. At the risk of utter redundancy and ridicule at the oath of being a perfectionist "grammarian" (hehe, my own term invention), I’d have to say I love my loved ones!

44. I love golden retrievers and burmese cats!

45. I love the sweet scent of freshly-picked sampaguitas.

46. Lastly, no matter how imperfect it may be, I love my life. Thank you God for still giving me the chance to love what I’m loving! =)

____

And the list goes on and on and on.

There are girls who are simply effortless in attracting guys because of their sheer physical beauty.

There are girls who are effortless as well in attracting guys but who may not necessarily be as beautiful as those belonging to the first group.

There are girls who are not as fortunate physically and conclusion says what is often stated obviously as regards their interaction with the descendants of Adam.

There are girls who are also not as fortunate when the heavens showered gifts of physical aesthetics that are within the confines of society’s judgment of beauty but are nevertheless lucky when it comes to finding companionship and yes, love.

And then, there are girls like me.

Extremes? I fall somewhere in between.

I’m not the mestiza/chinita type. I’m a morena. I did not even reach the minimum height requirement for international beauty pageant contestants but I’ve managed to at least overtake Ate Glo and reach Britney Spears (yep, I’m her height . . . well, almost) and have myself accommodated nicely in local contests of beauty, not only once, but many times over. I have doe-shaped dark brown eyes, nose that is neither too high nor too low and a "gifted" body type, add to that a brain that is thankfully sensitive enough not to apply the words “kill joy” and “clueless” whenever, wherever and however necessary. In short, I’d like to believe I’m just right.

But when I do try to shape up what with modern society dictating that it’s okay for us females to initiate the move, lo and behold! The result is always more than drastic, more than remorseful, more than what feels like the end of the world that I just want nothing but to have a gigantic stop and rewind buttons installed on my entire being.

A friend once asked me how to attract guys and consequentially, how to act in their presence. Feeling rather grateful and at the same time, flattered, that this girl, who was instrumental in helping me come “gracefully” out of my shell, was eagerly asking me tips as if I was some sort of an expert. In a nutshell, I relayed to her the art of flirting, my style.

Knowing that I could never be like those girls who seem to effortlessly draw guys to them as I’ve been informed over and over again by those “concerned” that I am the intimidating type, I told my friend that those in our league should first know who should be our target, a vital factor in determining whether or not we’ll win in the rat race called, sheesh, “love”.

Our target should be the ones who we know would fall prey to how we look and what we do. No matter what the cost of entering what was purely a man’s domain, our target should preferably at least be “worthy” and “decent” enough to talk to and be with. Whatever the quoted words’ scope is, that’s for us to know.

Next step is doing the assignment. Yes, we should do the dirty work called research. It’s hard. But it doesn’t take a rocket scientist or a terrorist to know that stupidity breeds forced inevitability. Gibberish talk? Translation: Rather than falling flat on our face before a man whom we thought likes ice cream but hates wasabi, we should better avoid the Nihonggo talk and charm our way into determining his flavours of the month.

Already way too liberal? Wait ‘till the next step. It is all about aiming straight for the guy’s eyes to catch his attention. But be careful not to appear so obvious that it is already much too creepy or worse, gratifying for the guy’s growing head. Ten feet away from the apple of one’s eye or at least at a distance that is neither too far nor too near, we should make our presence known by staring straight into the guy’s eyes that he starts dabbling with utter confusion on whether we’re boring right through him or we’re just really looking at something that is blocked by his physical presence.

Feels like it all ends there? No siree! If our guys finally approach and initiate a conversation, talk the talk. Real talk. No pretensions. We should summon our highest intellect so he’d know that we’re of the no-nonsense type. But if the talk leads to something we’re really dying for to be brought up, keep it real but be casual about it. No dilly dallies. No beating around the bush. Let those guys feel we know what we want but that we’re also capable of stepping our foot down if the manageable becomes much too unmanageable.

And finally, it ends there. The art of flirting.

Seems too good to be true? Not for me. Up to now I still wonder why I’m scaring all the good guys away. Maybe I’m too intimidating. Maybe the word “easy” for this art of flirting still means cheap talk and not real liberty from the rules of this patriarchal society.