Because I've been tagged...

by Em, here are 8 descriptions of my so-called "perfect lover" (bleechh). He...

1. is curious, knowledgeable, and a creative thinker. I'd like genuinely stimulating conversations that can bridge ravines if necessary, and are as free as possible of muddy thinking, grammatical mistakes, or common notions treated as gospel truths.
2. generally likes and gets along with a wide variety of people (without needing to impress, improve, or manipulate them), and cherishes a handful of close friends, but is comfortable being alone.
3. wants to see the world and is willing to brave inconveniences, try new things (whether they be food, hobbies, ideologies, or, umm, positions) and go out of his comfort zone without losing his sense of self.
4. is good-looking, in a quirky and inconspicuous way -- preferably lean, with high cheekbones and an angular jaw, and a dark/brooding aura (pagbigyan nyo na ako! haha).
5. has both gravitas (and knows what gravitas means!) and true wit, and tells stories and jokes well.
6. does not smoke, do drugs, or play around; but can handle his liquor well, and is good in bed.
7. is emotionally accessible, and loves to give both small tokens and grand gestures of affection.
8. loves books (not just bestsellers), music (please, not just R&B), movies (from B-horror movies to foreign art films), and me. Only me.

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by Liz, here are 10 of life's simple pleasures that I like the most:

1. my cat Metaphor curling into a black, furry ball at my feet or next to my pillow on a rainy night.
2. lifting the cover of a box of freshly cooked Yellow Cab pizza, and inhaling.
3. receiving mixed CD's from friends with good and eclectic musical tastes.
4. finding a pair of jeans that fits my hips perfectly without making my thighs look (even more) gargantuan.
5. the first bottle of ice-cold San Mig Light right after work.
6. wiping an oil-blotting paper across my face and seeing the surface fill up with oil.
7. random texts from old friends in the middle of the night.
8. reminding someone of something he said years ago, by referring to a journal where I'd written it down.
9. DVD marathons with my fellow couch potato, my Kuya
10. the slow shivers down my spine right after I read a good poem, like this one:

Aubade: Some Peaches, After Storm
by Carl Phillips

So that each
is its own, now -- each has fallen, blond stillness.
Closer, above them,
the damselflies pass as they would over water,
if the fruit were water,
or as bees would, if they weren't
somewhere else, had the fruit found
already a point more steep
in rot, as soon it must, if
none shall lift it from the grass whose damp only
softens further those parts where flesh
goes soft.

There are those
whom no amount of patience looks likely
to improve ever, I always said, meaning
gift is random,
assigned here,
here withheld -- almost always
correctly
as it's turned out: how your hands clear
easily the wreckage;
how you stand -- like a building for a time condemned,
then deemed historic. Yes. You
will be saved.