Term Of Endearment

I have a friend who I call "Palawan Buddy" and she refers to me in the same name. We've known each other for... two years or so?... and we were introduced because of a planned trip to (yep, you guessed it) Palawan!

It was one of those "hey-super-cheap-seats-to-an-offbeat-locale" trips organized by a common friend of 10 or so people. Offbeat locale meant spending the night on a deserted island, braving cliff-faces to get to crystal clear salt water, getting inside caves, and exploring the great outdoors. The eight other people part of the trip were already seasoned mountaineers, used to roughing it and living life on the edge.

The two oddballs in the great Palawan adventure were me and Precy. So the rest of them buddied us together, with the idea that we could keep each other company during the parts of the trip we can't stomach anymore. Ergo, PALAWAN BUDDY!

But, man, did we prove them wrong. Not only were we able to take on every single adventure plotted out, but we both did all so with nary a whine! Precy and I, girly-girls of bunch, bratinela 1 and bratinela 2, experienced the beauty of Coron in all it's magnificence just as much as our rough-riding friends.

Memories of Coron, the beauty of Mother Nature, the friendships that stemmed from it, will forever be cherished, but what I love best about the trip is the fact that I gained a great friend from it who I openly have a term of endearment for. I love that from Coron, I gained a Palawan Budz. I was telling her earlier in the week: even if we've been to other places in the country already, heck even if we've traveled the world together, even when we're gray and old and withered, surrounded by grandchildren, I'll still be calling her my Palawan Buddy.

She said she'll be the same way.

The kids will ask us why, what does Palawan Buddy mean, and we'll have an entire adventure to tell them.

(Dedicated to Precy, a.k.a. Palawan Budz. *chest move here* forever)

Hi. I'm Tippie and I'm a closet Tom.

(I wrote this entry at the start of the year, for a different blog entirely. It was my online journal, and the stuff that were written there were... not really for public reading of any kind. I decided to let go of that blog but I wanted to save this post. Hope it sheds a bit more light about myself and my state of life right now. Happy reading.)

"Where’d that come from?" you might ask. Well, it came to me after my second helping of (500) Days of Summer which I just watched with my sister, who saw it for the first time and came to the same startling conclusion I did when I saw it the first time... “I’m a Summer.”

I’m a proud Summer. In fact, I'm mostly happy to be one. I can’t count the number of times I’ve been asked, why don’t you have a boyfriend, and I keep repeating my standard, but true answer of "because I don’t want one."

It’s actually a half-truth. I also don’t have one because I’m not being courted by anyone. And I haven’t been courted for quite some time already. Yeah, yeah, the days of courtship are over. Call me old fashioned but I still believe in it. I haven’t added a guy friend to my current pool in years. I think it’s because I’m also not one of the friendliest people on Earth… Pilipinas Hospitality apparently doesn’t apply to me… but yeah, that’s another entry for another day.

So going back however, proud Summer. Happy to be free, always keeping the icky luuuv stuff away with outstretched arms held up to a halt, not really into the “risky business” of emotionally investing.

But after my 2^nd helping of the movie, I realized there are aspects of Tom that I also can relate to. Such as the reading too much between the lines and finding a sign in every move. Okay granted, I try my best not to do these, but there have been times when I just couldn’t help myself.

Like, when someone suddenly YMs out of the blue. Or when someone is the very first person to congratulate you for something that makes you wonder, "How'd he even know about that?" Or when he comes to an event you’re attending, too but decides not to sit with you (Gaaah! What do you make of that!). Of course no one knows these insane little thought balloons, none of my friends know… because I think I’d never get the courage to finally admit I think I could’ve found the one.

What makes me a Summer… I’m not doing anything about it. I’m afraid my one (if at least one for the right now stage of my life) has left the building and moved on. I compensate by acting that way, too. The ship has sailed… another line I’ve said one too many times.

Maybe someday, I’ll find another one who’ll be able to pry my Tom-ness out of its closet. Because as of right now, I just think its safer for my Tom to stay in there and let my jaded Summer face roam free.

That doesn’t mean I don’t look forward to the day. Someday. I won’t be a closet Tom, and hopefully like Summer in the movie, that’ll be the day I fall in love.