Weddings and How It Now Begins

Oh f**k, Oh f**k.

My cousin who's just a couple of years older than I am held a rush wedding yesterday. Nope, girl not pregnant. But my cousin was promoted in his call center job and has to relocate to Dumaguete (now, that's some weird promotion, huh? Sounds more like excommunication to me) and he'd like to bring the girl with her. Mien (the girl) turned out to be a Gracean too, graduated three batches behind me and knew me as Ate Olivia.

As the Wedding March commences so does the misery I would forever now feel in the presence of our relatives.

"Oh, ikaw Ibiang... kelan ka kakasal?" asks an Aunt who before then still liked pinching my cheeks and calling me her little BIG niece.

Need I explain the fumble for words I went through trying to explain to her that her niece's love life status hasn't changed for the last, let's see, 24 years. She seemed shocked to hear I never had a boyfriend, even if I clearly remember her saying six months ago that I was smart to have finished my studies and get the feel of work first before "encumbering" (her very words) myself with a "papa".

Then the inevitable words came. "Siguro, papayat ka lang ng konti, iha, ang ganda ganda mo!"

F**K. Does it ALWAYS have to come down to that? I can feel the pressure of the stares of my relatives as they seem to be willing me via mind-warp that I should start eating grass and grass alone so as to lose weight ASAP.

Of course, the ultimate solution to my boyfriendless state is my looks, right? So now, no matter how I am basically the only pamangkin who graduated with honors in the best f**kin' university in the country, can hold a job for more than three months, and more or less, is the dependable one, I would just be THE ONE who'd probably be an old maid. (That's in addition to THE ONE who'd probably never be rich because she likes doing NGO work and stuff)

I'm next in line in their "Must-Be Wed" list and a very distant relative just tried to hook me up, in so many words, with the son of a friend's friend. He was also quick to enunciate that this guy is also big like me so we'd probably hit it off. That's probably his way of saying we're both the sizes of planets and gravity would more or less be at work and we'd be within each other's orbit. But there's nothing to prove that we won't collide instead resulting to bits and pieces of planet miasma scattering across the universe.

My only mistake was by answering his sales pitch by explaining that I have my own ideas about the man I'd like to be with and if I may be allowed to find this guy myself. To this he retorted, "Prince William won't marry you, and frankly, you always end up choosing gay ones."

Oh f**k. Who told him???

He added further insult to the situation by saying that, I was a flights-a-fancy girl and I should start looking at what's available and not at what's ideal.

I got so Xena-Warrior-Princess-mad inside.

My imagination is mine, and NO ONE can meddle with my fancies. I am ready to face a lifetime of being alone rather than to compromise it.

I do not expect Prince William to fall heads over heels with me and forsake the English throne for me. But I WILL marry a prince. The man I would marry would be a Prince among Men. He'd be such a decent, upstanding fellow that he can be King.

And as for falling for all the gay guys, that was such a low, low hit. I like my guys sensitive, intelligent and neat, thank you very much. That's more than I can say for him.

Goddamnit, Elliot! Stop getting lost in the forest already and come to my Ivory tower. Just don't go shouting to let my hair down, use the f**king door. I am not a prisoner of my fancies, I am just protected by it and therefore partially liberates me from having to settle for things (and men) less than ideal.

Hay. :)

Don't worry, dear friends, I'm okay. I'm more than okay... I am magnificent.

I'm just sorry for all the boys out there who'd never know that. Hehehe!