I welcome you to my world. ..ispeak.i.ph - where I speak of things I would like each one of you to enjoy and learn from.
So, ispeak: Enjoy browsing the pages and take a part of my biggest turns (and not) of my life!
Falling in Love Over and Over Again
June 2, 2010Me and my husband have been married for a year now. Yeah, we are one of those young couples on its honeymoon stage. But opposite of what some people think, first year of marriage is the most crucial year of married couples. Believe me, I know. Probably right, we thought those good times we had before marriage are assurance of a happy marriage, gee, that’s why we tie the knot. But, hell no, those were just - let’s put it this way - superficial “us” - if you know what I mean. What I am trying to say is, we didn’t show our true colors yet for fear of losing the one we love. And so, we go to church, take our vows and seal it with a kiss not knowing really who we are wed to. We are totally married to a man who is roughly 70% stranger to us. Funny, right?
I am too married to a man stranger to me. But that was after I really know him. Then I fell in love with him again - big time!
My Mr. Right
May 21, 2010
When I was young, my friends and I would write descriptions of our Mr. Right. I couldn’t help but recall those days. We got our crumpled notes and started digging some available space to write into. I usually have it bulleted something like this
- Tall
- Dark
- Handsome
- Gentleman
With these characteristics in mind, we would swoon to every “Mr. Right” in the campus and start blinking some lashes just to catch their attention. But wait a minute, we were not like those blonde girls you see on TV. We were subtle on our quest for Mr. Right. We can’t afford to be caught love struck, can we? We have female dignity to protect. We had crushes and boyfriends. Well, those were the days.
Time really changes us. There is no escaping from it.
Care for a Ride?
My father used to live in a mountain but my Lola stays there even until now. When I was a kid, the thought of traveling to mountains creeps me out (although I always love to meet my Lola). Especially if I think of a particular ride that my father used to dub the fastest transportation to heaven – the Habal-habal. I swore to myself that I would never ever ride such a crap. Don’t ask me why. It’s just that the thought of me taking that ride, scares me. So, I usually walked it from the highway up to such a steep and rocky road to my father’s place.
But fate has played on me. I guess it’s true that the more you hate something, the closer it gets to you.
