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You Don't Bring Me Flowers

You don't bring me flowers
You don't sing me love songs
You hardly talk to me anymore
When you come through the door
At the end of the day

I remember when
You couldn't wait to love me
Used to hate to leave me
Now after lovin' me late at night
When it's good for you
And you're feeling alright
Well you just roll over
And you turn out the light
And you don't bring me flowers anymore

It used to be so natural
To talk about forever
But 'used to be's' don't count anymore
They just lay on the floor
'Til we sweep them away

And baby, I remember
All the things you taught me
I learned how to laugh
And I learned how to cry
Well I learned how to love
Even learned how to lie
You'd think I could learn
How to tell you goodbye
'Cause you don't bring me flowers anymore

busog

we finished dinner at around 9 and it felt too early to retire, particularly since it was a friday night and we don't usually get to see each other. so we ended up trooping over to powerplant and catching the devil wears prada in the movies. peej and i were sitting next to each other (boys on either end) and we couldn't help ooh-ing and aah-ing over the gorgeous clothes and shoes. and beautiful paris! *sigh*

cut for a cause

i donated my hair to guimaras and hope to save a pawikan or a dugong. check with your parlor/salon and ask if they support the salvation project. (credits: hair by celi tolentino, bench fix - greenhills)

screw agoraphobia

avi and i went to the bookfair early on sunday. it was the last day and we anticipated a huge crowd to flock in. the picture above was taken 30 minutes after the gates opened. people were swarming like ants scavenging for food. it was somewhat heartening to see that books were still important. but competition is competition, baby. outta the way!

didn't build much of a stash this year: tikim (doreen fernandez), palayok (coffee table book, also by doreen), the body book (edited by what's-her-name), and a book on nudes (art book). i was contemplating getting this book of sketches by amorsolo and a novel by gabriel garcia marquez but it's tough earning your own money and i've yet to be more budget-conscious. oh well, i did buy 2 cds and another book this same month so it's fair enough.

we had dinner with em, larry, kael and sigh at cantina after our field day. em and larry were poring over my nudes book, the latter somewhat freaking out at the sight of naked women. they were particularly amused by a certain painting of gabrielle d'estrees, henri IV's mistress.

hi, den--many thanks for your message. i just straggled into virginia a few hours ago with my wife and mom,
groggy from both flight and food, and of course the first thing i did was to set up my internet, and your
message was nearly the the first thing that popped up.

even old writers like me need and appreciate confirmation that we are, indeed, being read by more than our
housemates, and that we might even make sense :) thanks for the encouragement. it's a constant labor to
try and say something worth my reader's time and yet also something fun to do (or otherwise, why bother? we
can all sell insurance instead), and i'll keep trying. hope to run into you one of these days back in manila, and
all the best to your own writing.

cheers
butch dalisay