I'd like you to meet my boyfriend..

inspired by: http://french-graffiti.blogspot.com/2009/08/i-dont-want-boyfriend.html

I wake up to my phone ringing and I groggily pick up my cell. It's Miguel,calling me first thing in the morning like he always does. Only it's ten am and it's not really that early. He's asking me to have breakfast with him in that roadside place in Pampanga. I laugh and tell him by the time we get there it would be almost dinner. He doesn't believe me but then I remind him of how last week's breakfast trip to Tagaytay turned into merienda by Taal Vista. He insists, saying breakfast is any meal with sunny side up eggs. I agree because who can argue with that logic?

Miguel is a writer for a rival ad agency. He is eons better than I am at this job and I am in constant awe of him. He rolls his eyes at my adulation , saying he could never match my passion. I laugh derisively at this but secretly melt every time he says it. He says his real passion is fiction and I know this to be true. He has a published book of essays and two children's stories. He has Palanca's to show for the latter two. Currently, he is co-writing another short children's story, this time, with me. *heart heart*


Miguel is not only talented and witty and intensely in love with traveling for breakfast, he is also quite the looker. He's very Seth Cohen meets Chuck only cuter. He has a crookedly charming smile and constantly tousled hair. His eyes though are completely incongruent with the whole geek appeal - as they are piercing and intense. At times, he looks at me as if possessed and it sends shivers up my spine. I almost always have to avert my eyes to keep myself from pouncing on his juicy lips - just imagine how awkward a situation it would be if we're at a family brunch or church. It goes without saying that he is a.ma.zing in bed.

He smokes sometimes out of boredom but mostly, he wastes time doing crossword puzzles or reading jokes in Reader's Digest. He can never get me interested in the former but I am all over the latter. Sometimes, we argue about who gets to read the jokes first.

Miguel loves discovering new music. He introduces me to quirky bands he finds on myspace and lastfm and wherever else one finds new bands. But he's far from being a snob. In fact, we are united for a common liking for 90's pop. And we're talking gooey mainstream pop here like Paula Cole, Backstreet Boys and Jessica Simpson.






And of course, we are also united under our common love for the Eheads - heck, we almost met during their reunion concert but we were much too busy shouting our lungs out to notice our possible love of our lives were in our midst.

It's not all roses and sunshine with Miguel, of course. We fight. We argue. We walk away. But we never shout. We never curse. And there are times when even if we are extremely mad at each other, I find we are still holding hands.

Got to wrap this entry up. Miguel just sms-ed. He's downstairs already. Pampanga breakfast here we come! I wonder if I could convince him to go to the Paranaque Dampa for dinner?