By the way, “singlehood” is not
recognized as an English word. That is, if I have to rely on
LibreOffice Writer's spell checker. Maybe because “singlehood” is
merely this author's state of mind.
I am almost past halfway. Singlehood, that is. My dear wife and daughter are
both in the US fulfilling one of our dreams for Carmella.
I stayed behind for various reasons,
mostly self-serving. Like I do not want to go through the trouble of
getting a US visa again. Well, I have been denied once and one
embarrassment is all this poor writer can handle.
I was also intent on getting on with my
writing, which I have to admit, I am doing rather poorly. I guess
writer's block is at its worst when your heart longs for someone's
presence. Things are more lucid when both of them are around.
Then there is also the mountain biking
part which I promised Cecille I will do on a daily basis. I even got
myself a new knee support. Fail. Big time. The most I can manage is a
lame once-a-week pedal.
So they are there, an ocean away from
me, and each one with a different objective. Which I think I should
also mention here as it colors my 5-week state of singlehood.
For Cecille, a trip to the US will not
be complete without a visit to one of the closest outlet mall. It's
not the buying part that excites but the experience of being
surrounded by on-sale original is, for her, akin to being in
Nirvana. She may have the same level of joy being in Divisoria but in
the years I have known this lady that I love, I learned that women
would rather have the real McCoy even it is hardly distinguishable
from an imitation.
I really do not get it. Call this
writer a bumpkin but for me, unless that Crocodile faces the wrong
direction, I find no shame in wearing a close copy.
What I really find hilarious in all
this is I do the reconnoitering for her. I may be here but I am
Cecille's eyes when it comes to getting the best offer on pressure
cookers, Timex watches, Nike budget socks, Salt Sticks capsules and
many more.
I know how many minutes away is the
nearest REI, Nike store, Borders and Walmart, thanks to Google Maps.
I know where best to meet friends to make the most of reunions.
I know that the best offer on watches
is not at Nordstrom Rack but at Walmart: $19 for a good Timex Sports
Watch and very, very original. No fakes there, I am sure.
So while they are enjoying every moment, I am busy feeding them information that will make their trip worth it. A backroom covert operative clone, if you ask me.
An egg on my face, really, but I have
never done as extensive a research as I am doing now. If only I had
the same fervor back in college, I would be the current owner of
several companies.
For Carmella, this trip is about finally getting that dream gadget, a
pair of expensive earphones from Skullcandy (surprised Cecille
actually bought her one), a pair of Vans shoes and her dream bag
from Jansport. She now spends the rest of her US trip playing games
and taking pictures using the same gadget.
But I miss my girls.
I miss my after dinner talks with
Cecille. Better than kitchen dates, this is when we are most
comfortable with each other. Often there is nothing special to talk
about, but the presence of the beloved speaks louder than words.
I miss her incessant housekeeping. I
miss her relaxation mode called the “Telenovela.” I miss going to the Sunday Feast with her. I miss her special sweet soupy desserts. I miss
laughing with her. I miss embracing her.
And while my days are filled with
non-stop debate when she is around, I miss Carmella.
Somehow, Man vs
Food Nation tastes bland without her. I miss the intellectual
discourse that comes after watching Intervention. I miss the
inspiration she articulates after watching Kings of Restoration. I
miss her art work. I miss watching her read. I miss her singing. I miss biking with her.
I miss the hugs.
I have roughly 3 more weeks. I
can't wait.
