Anatomy of a Marriage - the 17th version

Stolen from her Facebook. I hope I'm not violating any laws or rights.
So so so so beautiful.

Anatomy of a Marriage - the 17th version
by Rica Bolipata Santos

Ever since we turned 15, I've added to this list every year. So here's the 17th lesson, in celebration of our 17th year!

So here is my summary. 15 lessons from a middle-aged marriage.

1. Adjust your stride.

2. Love and need his solitude as much as you love and need yours.

3. Know the difference between personality and weather-related behavior.

4. Have sex, often.

5. At that moment when an argument asks your heart to grow bigger, just say yes. Don't be naive. Of course, it will be painful.

6. Small kindnesses add up. As do small petty actions. Choose the kindnesses.

7. Not everything is about love. Most things are not about you.

8. Never look to the other for your source of happiness. That’s a pretty dangerous path. Your happiness is in your own hands.

9. Your primary relationship is with yourself.

10. It takes a village to make a marriage work. Let people in!

11. Always remember the good stuff. Here’s why I married him- because he knew the way the wind and the sun moved. He places chimes and thermometers and most things were they belong best. It is the sexiest thing, ever.

12. Remind each other about God.

13. Make each other better parents. Parenting is not a war between you two.

14. Grow a garden, together. Or grow your own garden and ask him to sit with you once in a while, in your garden.

15. Be happy with what you have. There is nothing better on this earth than loving someone completely. Above all, practice gratefulness.

16. Hold each other often in small ways-hold hands while walking, smoothen backs while watching tv, kiss suddenly while on facebook, place hand on cheek during mass as your sign of peace, place head on shoulder once in a while. Never let your bodies forget each other. It has its own version of memory.

17. Be grateful for the ability to love deeply, in deep time. Not everyone can swim and survive in this mystery.

Signs of the Times

Photo from healingleaf.wordpress.com

...or the passage of time:

I am now using the vodka in the house...
...to clean the house and my yoga mat. Even if there is orange juice in the fridge, there are no screwdrivers in sight. (Except for the one in my toolbox.)

I jump roped last night...
...and my hip feels like a rickety 80 year-old woman. I can't believe I used to do that for fun, and way more than the 100 heart-wrenching jumps I hyperventilated my way through. And the award for Best Reaction to My Workout Kuwento goes to Da Sister:

cybele: gaga!

jump rope?!?!

at our age? ano ka, pacquiao?

(Maybe the part before he takes Alaxan.)

Heaven Before Hell

I already know that this week/month/next three months will be hellish, so I'm really glad I had a sweet Sunday before the shit hits the fan.

We hit the range early in the morning. There were only three of us, so we had to pretend it was such a chore. "Ang init." "It's my turn again?" "Ang dami pang bala!" "I have a paper cut na from taping up all our shots."

Hanging out with the Marconator and the Foo Fighter.

Lola Lettie's 1969 Winchester lovingly restored by the Marconator.

I'm going to call her Lady Winchester from now on.

And then we had a super seafood lunch c/o Marco and Marion, who came from a wedding in Bacolod. Unfortunately, I don't have any pictures. We were so fricking hungry after four hours in the sun.

And then we went swimming at 2pm. Kebs to the UV rays.

I've been longing for the beach. In Mom's place I can more than pretend. Sarap.

Fuerza Bruta

It was a picture on a Facebook friend's wall that made me want to see Fuerza Bruta. Was she floating? swimming? flying? I couldn't tell--and I didn't want to. So I didn't read a single review, watch a single trailer or audience video, or look at a single picture after that.

I'm so glad I didn't peek. It was nice to be surprised, amazed, and even get teary-eyed.

Ika-nga ng aking tipsy self:

The only two pictures I took while watching Fuerza Bruta because I wanted to be in the moment. There is grace in every struggle. There is beauty in a wave of fabric and hair and water. And there is joy in every complimentary cocktail. Bow.

We were the first audience members to enter the performance area.

Being responsible OC producers, we arrived at the Manila Hotel the same time the staff did.

We also did an ocular (akala mo ang laki ng lugar) before looking for dinner.

My trusty Chucks hanging out in the aftermath.