Honey Bunches of Oats

The lady on the next parking stall was patiently waiting for us as we attempted to park her clunker of a car into a compact parking stall. We had to swing her beat-up Toyota Camry several times just so we could squeeze in to that tiny spot. Then after a few minutes of struggle in that small confined space we finally got to park the car.

I jumped out of the car, opened the rear door and grabbed the two small styrofoam coolers rested in the back seat of her car. This way hon, she said as I excitedly followed her. There we stood at the entrance of a small kitchen alongside the boxes, trays, and rolling carts. The space was so small that I was feeling a little claustrophobic. We had to move the carts and boxes as more people were lining up to have there styrofoam coolers filled.

Today we have seven people waiting at home for their meals. This being my first time I’m a bit excited and a bit weary as to how they’d respond to seeing me. They’re used to the regulars that deliver their food and I am not to sure how they’ll receive me in their home.

We arrived at the first house about five minutes early. It’s a retirement apartment complex just at the bottom of Waimano Home Road. The GF knocks on the door. An elderly Chinese lady opens the door and invites us to come inside. She profusely apologizes for her messy domicile, which in reality is actually 100 times cleaner than my apartment. We smiled and told her that she has nothing to worry about. We set up her table — fork and spoon in the proper side of the plate. She thanks us and bid us a safe travel. As we headed back to her car I can’t help but be proud having a girl with such a big heart.

Despite her busy schedule (working 3 jobs and taking her master’s degree) she still manages to squeeze in time to volunteer for Meals-On-Wheels — delivering food to the elderly. When she’s not busy delivering food to the elderly she volunteers for the Food Bank of Hawaii — another charity organization that she supports both physically and financially. As if that wasn’t enough she also sponsors a child in Tanzania through Compassion International.

There are days when I wonder if I’ve made the right choice. Because, sometimes, I must admit that I base my choice on how hot girls look in tight jeans and high heels. But I know from experience that the hot jeans and high heels has nothing to do with relationships. It cannot make the relationship work, nor can it make it last. It is in the heart. And when those days come when I ask my self if I’ve made the right choice, I simply think about the things that she does and why she does it. She has a big heart and most of all I am a better person when I am with her.

Today she turns 31 and I want to make this day special for her, the way she makes other people feel special. Happy birthday my love.

AM/FM stereo

I don’t know why women keep on assuming that we men have these built-in antennas to pick up cetain signals they’re sending? Maybe we do have one, but being the typical males that we are, we never bothered reading the manual on how to operate it, so it’s never functional anyway.

She keeps noticing the things I do in class even though she’s two tables away from me and her view is often obscured by this hefty girl, whose girth could probably block out the sun and cause a solar eclipse. Yet somehow she has this x-ray vision that could penetrate that much biological mass. Take for example the other day, I told her that I bought a stack of photo organizers to organize my picture slides and she told me she saw it. How could she have possibly seen it when I haven’t even showed her that? Then also the other day I told her that I fell asleep in class, and she said she saw me with my head buried under my desk. How could she have possibly noticed that when I couldn’t even barely see her from where I was sitting?

The funny thing though is that it took me 6 months to find out what her name was, and it only took her a few days to know mine. So I feel embarrassed when I see her around campus because she calls me by my first name and I just go “hey”. And get this, she even remembers the names of my unknown specimens last semester. Apparently, not only does she have x-ray vision but she also has some sort of clairvoyant ability. Now I’m beginning to suspect that she’s probably a mutant, one of the X-men with all the superpowers that she posses. And I dunno why she has a certain interest in what I do? Maybe she’s just really perceptive, which is a really good sign that she’ll be an excellent doctor one day. But what worries me most is that I dunno if those are some sort of signal telling me something. Because apparently I like her too and it would be a shame to miss out on the opportunity. So I guess it’s time to look for that manual then maybe I can figure out how this built-in antenna works and hopefully decipher those signals.

talk to me, tell me your sign…

I don’t normally enjoy small talk because you always end up empty at the end of every conversation, no knowledge gained nor information acquired. But then again there is a saying that goes “beggars can’t be choosers,” so I make the most out of every opportunity I get with her. Unfortunately for me this is the only type of conversation that we engage in. So I pretend that we are having a scholarly debate, an intellectual discussion, a conversation of profound importance. Because quite honestly, all I want is to spend my 5 minutes with her and see that sparkle in her eyes everytime she says she’s gonna get a cup of coffee.

a little ambiguity

The following is based on the “Laws of Attraction” – ambiguity leads to mystery, mystery leads to curiousity, curiousity leads to fondness, and fondness leads to romance.

2 months ago:

her:“You don’t look like you’re Filipino.”
me:“Really? So if I’m not Filipino then what do you think I am then?
her:“You look more like Okinawan (from Okinawa Japan).”

Last night:

me:“So what kind of guys are you looking for?”
her:“I’m attracted to Okinawan men.”

Is she dropping really obvious hints? or is she just testing how sharp my memory is?

But now it doesn’t matter. All of a sudden I have a certain fondness for her.

Moral of the story: Be ambiguous it increases your market value.

the quantity of love

It was during one lovely spring afternoon. We were both seated in a park bench marvelling at the red sun as it slowly disappears behind the towering oak trees. She gave out a big sigh and I made a soft grunt. This is how we say “I love you” to each other when we don’t have anything to say. It’s as if our hearts knew what one was saying even if it were in a primitive form of language.

Then all of a sudden she lifted her head that was rested on my right shoulder and asked, “How much do you love me?”. *POOF* The millions of neurons found in my brain started to send out signals, processing information at a rate of 100,000,000,000 datas per nanosecond. Then my rational brain begins to question the logic of her query. I begin to ask myself this:

“Is love a quantifiable entity?”
“If love can be quantified then what unit should we use?”
“Are the units gonna be in metric or english?”
“Can it be factored out by 10, like millilove, nanolove, kilolove?”

But since I’m not Einstien, and applied math is my weakest subject I smiled at her and spread my arms out as far as they can go and said “I love you this much” and wrapped my arms around her.