Goddess, I Am.

A new week starts today, and I’m very much looking forward to it because I know without a doubt that it’s going to be a very good one. And no, it’s not because I suddenly discovered a new skill in clairvoyance. I guess it’s mostly because last week was an all-time low, and I honestly don’t believe that anything can be worse than that.

I’m not going to go into any details because I do wish to keep certain things private (believe it, or not), but in a nutshell, the entire week was a seemingly endless cycle of hurts and anger and tears. To be perfectly honest, we were this close to calling off the wedding, white gold rings and all, because there was a point when it seemed like marriage was the biggest mistake we were ever likely to make.

Yes, it was THAT bad, and yes, it was absolute torture. But yes, it also had to happen. Despite the pain we both put each other through, I’m still glad that that’s over with. That we’ve really and truly addressed issues so sensitive that we’ve always found ourselves skirting around them in the past. That we’ve said everything that needed to be said in all honesty without having to water anything down. That the floodgates opened then when we still had every chance to walk away before a marriage certificate made it all too late. That somehow we emerged unscathed from what could have easily been the end of the road for us.

From the moment the very last round of accusations and insults was exhausted, we knew for sure what we’ve always known all along – that we can never be apart. The frightening doubts have left with the last of the hurtful expletives. And just as suddenly as it came, that single week in hell finally left us in peace.

Our love has been strong right from the start, but our relationship was more fragile than we both cared to admit – that is, until we were forced to face everything that was wrong about us. For the first time in 20 months, we are finally meeting halfway. We know each other so well now that if we were to exchange bodies, nobody will ever be able to tell the difference.

We are now stronger, wiser, and infinitely closer. We are happier – not in the giddy and excited way that is fleeting, but in contented bliss that lasts. We now respect each other more, and we’re both more appreciative of the other.

Yes, we really are now ready to live the rest of our lives together. And we look forward to forever.

I’ve never done tags before. The only tags that I ever get are the ones in Facebook, and I happen to think it’s the height of tacky – and a tad too self-centered – to flood my friends’ Facebook homepages with the 25 things that make me special, or how I have the personality of a flip-flop. It annoys me to no end when people do this because, really, I (and I suspect the rest of these people’s friends list) don’t give a flying kahuna if your celebrity twin is Ashley Tisdale because I don’t even know who that is!

But I digress. I got my first ever blog tag from Chin a couple of days ago, and this I’m compelled to do because (a) I’ve been constantly writing about myself here because, well, it is my blog; (b) I’m not forcing this down anyone’s throat (or, at least, Facebook homepage) because I figured if you’re reading this (and everything else in this blog), you probably wanted to (I imagine); and (c) I have absolutely nothing to write about that’s even remotely interesting.

So here’s what Chin is making me do this time:

1. Mention the person who nominated you.
2. List 6 unimportant things that make you happy.
3. Tag 6 blogs, state the rules, and notify them with a teeny comment on their blog.

Ladies and gentlemen, without much further ado, here are the six unimportant – and often ridiculous – things that make me deliriously happy:

1. Tattered underwear. You know, the ones with the broken elastics and frayed edges and holes aplenty. I love wearing them at home with little else. I love how I don’t feel constricted or uncomfortable, especially now that it’s summer. I would even wear them every chance I get when I go out if my outfit will just allow it. Yes, nothing makes me feel light and buoyant all day more than tattered underwear. Save the sexy ones for sexy clothes and sexy moments. They may be more attractive, but only tattered underwear can set you free!

2. Chuckie. Chuckie is not a psycho doll, nor is it a Rugrat. Oh no, Chuckie is anything but that trivial. Chuckie is nectar from the gods, the very liquid from the Fountain of Youth – and all that jazz. Yes, it’s none other than the chocolate milk drink of champions.

I’ve been drinking Chuckie all my life since the days when it was called Chocolait. We always keep a carton or two in the fridge because I just can’t be without my Chuckie. Why, I’d go without food, just as long as I have Chuckie. Oh, and I can even sing the Chuckie jingle upon request.

3. The Fiance’s Armpits. Okay, I know this is gag-worthy to some – if not all – of my readership, but this is my tag, and I’m inclined to tell the truth. I don’t have an armpit fetish or anything – gosh, no! If anything, I’ve always found armpits best ignored. Somewhere along the way, however, I developed a rather strange, umm, attachment to the man’s pits. I will always find reasons to touch ‘em and kiss ‘em and get under ‘em. I better stop right here before I start going into way too much unwelcome detail.

4. Julius Caesar. And yes, I do mean the man, and all the stories of the ancient Roman Republic before it became the Roman Empire and the lesser emperors ran it to the ground. I don’t claim to know all about it, but every time I come across a book, or a movie, or even just an article about it, that’s it – I will have little attention to spare for anything else. Right now my favorite reads on the subject are the books in Colleen McCullough’s Masters of Rome series. I’ll talk about this in another blog post later, or else I’ll never stop.

On a side note, I do believe I have some Julian blood in me. I don’t know how that could be possible, but I like to think so anyway. Why else would I always be dreaming of conquering Gaul of the Long-hairs on horseback in gladiator sandals? I’ve considered that I might be Caesar himself in my past life, which would explain why I like wearing mini skirts. I have also considered that this may just be because I have a thing for European men and have a subconscious need to conquer, rape, and pillage. I like the past life theory better.

5. iStore Fliers. Every couple of weeks or so, I would pay a visit to the iStore in Ayala and ask the guy at the door for the latest Macbook price lists. The prices haven’t changed much (if at all), but I’m hoping they’ll knock off a zero so I can get me a pretty Macbook Aluminum,. Or perhaps take pity on me and actually hand me one on the condition that I stop wasting their paper. Yes, I do get strange ideas in my head.

6. The Toilet Hose. Growing up in the Philippines, I was quite used to the whole bucket-and-dipper routine when it came to washing up after certain, umm, businesses. When I moved to Thailand, however, I was completely hooked on the toilet hose – you know, the ones that are bolted to conveniently beside the toilet, so one can just reach over and use the nozzle control thingy to wash up to one’s heart’s content.

After living there for a year and a half, the toilet hose completely spoiled me so that when we moved back to Cebu, I actually suffered a bit of culture shock when I found out that our apartment didn’t have one. Furthermore, I no longer had the dexterity required to make the bucket-and-dipper routine work. So after much searching and loads of whining, The Fiance eventually installed a toilet hose for me – and we all lived happily ever after.

Now the hard part – tagging six other people. Truth be told, I’m mostly a lurker in other people’s blogs because I’m shy (believe it or not), so I don’t really have a lot of blogger friends. I’m just going to play it safe and tag people I know, or at least, exchanged comments with.

Kaye, Jen, Lara, Kessa, Mikes, and Lio – tag, you’re it!