Wedding Party

Our wedding parties are in place. We chucked the trend of an equal number. I have seven. Dean has less. I forget how many exactly he has. It's either 4, 5, or 6.

Seven you wonder? How do you have seven bridesmaids? Well, first of all, they're not all bridesmaids. There's my sister as the matron of honor, then my six dear friends from high school. I guess a combination of bridesmaids and bridesmen?

Conrado's like my brother. We met in elementary school. I have fond memories of biking to his house after school and gorging on ice-cream.

Erika and I laughed our way through French class. We didn't learn a thing, but seemed to traipse around Paris just fine last year.

I had a crush on Marc in high school. We promised to marry each other if we were still single at 40--even though he's gay.

Cristina's my Gemini twin. We have a lot of history together, but I most enjoy hanging out in the burbs with her and her extended family (Cristina's mom, cousins, nieces) along with her two cute daughters while her husband Allan barbeques ribs!

Stephanie's the only high school friend that I lived with. We paid about $400 in rent during the dot com boom and spent many-a-night watching Mulan.

Daniel and I went on to Cal together (along with Marc and Erika) and we lived a portion of our lives at the UCSF library, studying all night long to get into grad school. Daniel's probably sorry he works near me because I always make him listen to my problems during lunch or happy hour.

My older sister Therese looks like my twin. Although we look alike, we're total opposites with Therese being a lot more talented and artistic. She juggles a household of three boys (just kidding Ronnie!) and teaches music in Atherton.

Project Managing My Wedding

Now that I've got my venue booked, I feel like everything's falling into place. It's a hotel so I don't have to find our guests lodging. There's a restaurant onsite so they're taking care of the food and bevvies. I don't have to deal with rentals of tables, chairs, linens. Our guests can take advantage of the two pools, the spa, the Vespas for rent or the bicycles you can ride around the complex.

One thing I'm struggling with when it comes to my wedding are the guests. I've got a huge Filipino family. It doesn't help when family members come up to me during family events and ask me if they're invited, if they've made the list, when should they book their flights. It's costing me $150 per person so a family of four is $600. Dean and I make good money, but we're not rich. And we certainly can't afford a gazillion families of four. As for friends, I read in a wedding book that you should invite the friends who know your parents. I like that. I think that's a good tip. Another friend of mine said she only invited people if she had actually talked to them within the past year. I like that, too. I struggled a lot with people who had invited me to their weddings, especially the ones I went to and enjoyed. I felt like I needed to invite those same people even if I don't really talk to them anymore. But a friend of mine talked me out of that. She said, "Look, you didn't ask to be invited. They wanted you there and you went. Your wedding is smaller, more intimate, and you've got a huge family!"

Next up are the fun things. I want the very best DJ. I put a deposit down on one, but still searching just in case. The photographers I've tapped are heavily discounting their rates because they all want to capture a one-of-a-kind wedding at the Ace Hotel in Palm Springs. How will we design the invitations? How can I force my little cousin to do a hip-hop routine during the reception? Should I have my dress made? What words can I use in a letter to persuade my favorite priest growing up to come to my wedding and officiate? Stay tuned.

The Things We Lie About

I lied to my mom a lot.  I got so tired of her verbal tirades, I'd simply lie.  I lied about where I was, what I was doing.  The first time I admitted I'd missed church one Sunday, she went off on the importance of going every week.  God only asked for one hour of our time every week. How can you not give an hour?  So whenever she asked after that, I always said I went--whether or not I was there.  'The woman is old,' was my excuse.  'She doesn't need to have another conniption and she gets plenty of conniptions.'  The irony of all of this is that I'm without a doubt the most consistent church-goer of anyone I know with the exception of my parents and my sister.  Ironic, isn't it?  And I was getting yelled at for missing a Sunday! 

In the grand scheme of things, I think of my lies as tiny untruths.  Sure I was lying, but I wasn't hurting anybody.  I was saving my mom from clutching her Catholic head in agony.  As for me, I know what's right for me and the truth was I was going regularly.  It's just that studying for Organic Chemistry and Physics kinda got in the way!

Then there are the big lies.  As Burning Man approaches, I think of all the ecstatic, mushroom-filled lies from the Burning past and what's ahead this year.  I think of the relationships that happened in a cloud of playa dust only to evaporate once we returned home.  My first Burn year, I accompanied my boyfriend.  The year prior, we had recently gotten together and I begged him not to hookup with anyone as I said good-bye to him before he left for Black Rock City.  He came back and confided, "I did shrooms one night with my campmates and one of my campmates gave me a kiss.  But that's all.  I promise.  I was good."  I know he was telling the truth.  I knew he would never betray me.

I never considered myself a big liar.  But I continually found myself being lied to.  

After my first Burn with my then-boyfriend, I connected with at least one person (if not several) every year and eventually came back home and dated them.  I would hear snippets about guys I used to date, guys I didn't care for anymore.  I had moved on and was most likely dating a slew of others.  But the stories surrounded me.  "Did you hear Brian broke up with his girlfriend? Yeah, that was a long-term relationship.  Five years they were together."

My ears perked up.  "Excuse me?  Did you say they were together for five years?  I dated Brian for five months.  There's no way.  I don't believe you."  But it was always true.  They'd even been living together.  Icing on my ripped apart heart.  It didn't matter that we weren't together anymore.  It didn't matter that I'd moved on.  What mattered was that he lied to me.  What mattered was now every time I thought about our brunches at Bette's Oceanview Diner, I'd think, "mother fucking scumbag."  No need to capitalize the reference to a low-life.

Do cheaters think that's ok?  Is it ok to lie to your significant other, your spouse, your children? Who does that?  Is the pussy or cock that important?  Is it really that fucking good?

I see it.  You see it.  We all see it.  It happened in college when one roommate walked in to find her other roommate straddling her boyfriend.  Suddenly, the two best friends seemed to be friends no more in the hallways and in the study hall.  "What happened with you and Anna?" I asked Jamie when we were hanging out alone in study hall.

"That bitch fucked my boyfriend Ted."  Ted was a good-looking alternative guy who lived on the all-boys floor.  He skated around campus.

"I didn't know Ted was your boyfriend.  I thought you had a boyfriend back home?"

"Oh yeah.  I guess I have two boyfriends then."

It happened in grad school when guys left their girlfriends or wives back home.  They couldn't possibly be out with the boys drinking every night.  Could they?  No matter what lies they told, business school is about 30% women so there are smart, interesting, beautiful girls who are single, waiting for their corporate counterpart.

And it happens all over the work place.  What do you really think your spouse is doing at those out-of-town conferences.  Come on!  Wake up.

I'm making the case that my lies were not as egregious as cheating lies, but it's all the same.  I was too much of a coward to own up to the truth.  It got to the point where I didn't care anymore if my mom yelled at me.  I simply held the phone away from my ear and multi-tasked.

Little untruths or big cheating lies.  What if we cared about every spoken word out of our mouth?  What if we refused to taint our lives with deception?  How would we live?...genuinely, truthfully, honestly?

Mommy Dearest

Today we celebrated Benicio's first birthday with lots of friends and family and even more food. Enough food for every guest to take something home for another meal.  Filipino gatherings--like most family gatherings--are centered around food.  Fried, caloric, fatty goodness.  Pancit, BBQ pork kebabs, mango ice-cream from Mitchell's.  My personal favorite?  My sister's fried lumpia dipped in my aunt's spinach dip.  I go to town with the combination, hovering over the table dipping the lumpia as my mom screams, "Get a plate and sit down!"

I was a happy stuffed piglet rubbing my tummy when my aunt asked, "Why do you do that?  Are you pregnant?"

I shrugged, "Maybe."  I laughed, "Who knows?  I could be.  Just in time for the wedding, eh?"

My mom glared at me and all my aunts laughed.

At this age, I like shocking my family.  Their good little straight A princess gets preggers before matrimony.  I love it.  But there's no way I'm pregnant.  I'm been on the pill for as long as I can remember.  It's never failed me before, I doubt it'll fail me now.  I know there's also this old wives tale about being on the pill for so long and eventually having a hard time getting pregnant after you get off the pill.  That's a bunch of bullshit, in my opinion.  

I'm in no rush to get pregnant.  I'm in no rush to be a mommy.  And I tell everyone this, if God pulled me aside one day and said, "No kids for you," I would not be heartbroken.

My aunt who asked if I was pregnant made it a point to tell everyone, "You know what Catarina used to say when she was a kid and a teenager?  She'd say, 'I'll kill myself if ever I got pregnant. I'll kill myself!' "

I don't ever remember saying that, but I'm not at all surprised I uttered those exact words. Sounds like me.  I know that I vividly remember wanting to get my tubes tied in high school. "Why not," I scoffed.  "I know I don't want kids.  Might as well take care of the situation now."

Despite the fact that I've been ambivalent about having children, I have very strong opinions on raising them.  Discipline is top of mind--just from genetics and my own upbringing.  There were no time outs when I was a kid.  My mom spanked us with her hard-heeled slipper.  

I distinctly remember a couple of unruly teenagers at church---a strong childhood memory of mine.  Their parents remained silent while the teens chatted loudly and yakked their gum. Twenty minutes into the mass, my mom tapped them on the shoulder and sternly said, "You need to be respectful in church."  They didn't say a peep after that.  I had a lot of respect for my mom at that moment.  I'm sure the teens did, too.  Children need discipline.  It can't be the parents following around the kids.  It's got to be the other way around.  Kids need a  strong, disciplined leader.

So when I saw my nephew Dominic purposely knock down a 13-month-old girl at the party today, I leapt to my feet, slapped that little rugrat on the floor, and gave him a big spanking. "Dominic, I saw that!  Don't you ever do that again!"  Dominic's lower lip started to quiver as he saw the anger in my eyes.  

"I want my mommy!"

"Oh yeah, you're going to get your mommy.  Therese!"  I called over my sister.  "Dominic just knocked her down."

My sister came and grabbed him by the wrist, hauling him away for another big whop.  I gave him another slap on the behind for good measure.  No kid of ours is going to get away with bad manners.  That is for sure.

The little girls mom said, "Wow, you're going to be a good mom."

"Thanks," I cried out of breath.  Let's hope the mom situation ain't for a couple years.