Jaycelle helped me produce a portrait for my updated website. What I wanted was a blurred imagery so we set the camera to a low shutter speed.
“Bungee Jumping of Their Own” is our movie of choice to cap off our Saturday night weekend. I asked Brian what genre was it, and he said it’s a Korean love story, and I got excited right away. Korean romantic movies have a reputation with me to be heart-wrenching yet so irresistibly good, and I wouldn’t pass up the chance to watch and experience the story myself.
Disclaimer: I didn’t read the synopsis of this movie, and had no idea and no expectation on how the story will unfold. I find this as an effective way to really be wowed by the movie, and I love it this way.
Set in 1983, it’s not the usual movies I’ve watched wherein I fell in love with the characters right off the bat. It came to me slowly as their story unfolds.
I found this Korean movie—Bungee Jumping of Their Own (2001)— and in the synopsis was the word “soulmates”. This must be a love story—Jaycelle and I will watch this together, I thought. It’s captivating—just like all the other Korean love stories that I’ve watched before—there’s always something that either you will relate to or reminisce about.
A couple of months ago, we suggested to Bryce to grow his hair until it is super–long. Then we noticed him brushing aside—left and right—stray hair on his eyes. It was like what they do in shampoo commercials after shampooing. We took it as, no mom dad, I need a haircut.
So we gave him a free one.
Who wants to wake up in the smell of hot cocoa every morning? Us! because we live behind the factory of Ricoa—yes, the maker of Flat Tops. It’s like mom mixing in a cauldron brimming of that chocolatey goody in a Christmas morning.
A couple of days ago, Bryce wasn’t like himself—more like a person carrying a worldly burden. Little big thing, it was. He kept asking to wash his butt while there was none to wash when I checked. It turned out that he couldn’t win over pushing out the brown monster in his tummy for two days already. On the third night, we saw him standing motionless at the living room—his face grueling internally. He succeeded giving birth to a poop the size of a grenade. Drink more water, kid.
Last night, Jaycelle and Bryce got home from a sewing workshop wherein Bryce luckily had a four–year old playmate. He was sleepy when I opened the door—slumped over Jaycelle’s shoulder. I took him and sat him down the sofa, eyes wide awake yet still sleepy. Then it happened. He threw a fit wanting “daddy–yon” (polvoron) then milk and orange. We explained to him that we only had grapefruit but he insisted to cut it open. He ended up not eating it. It was his wildest delirium to date—shouting and bawling and commanding us to do and not to do every little detail. Beyond all this we knew he was simply caught up in the middle of sleepiness and playtime withdrawal. You know that feeling when you just had the best day of your life only to deal with the reality of going home. Jaycelle and I got to the finish line without losing any of our patience. Good job, mom and dad!
A Kumori tart, a Tous Les Jours cream cheese bread, a tea, a coffee, a white round table, a breakfast wherein we take in and we pour out words and memories that are part of us in a not–so–distant past.
“My greatest nightmare is realizing I hadn’t reviewed for the day’s final exam,” I shared with Jaycelle along with a dream I had last night.
“I remember in college arriving at class with a minute left in the period,” I said proudly.
“I remember cutting classes because I was a minute late. All or nothing at all,” Jaycelle said proudly.
Anecdotes that tell opposing values yet cement our togetherness.
Our conversation branched out into a timeline somewhere in 2007 when we were becoming friends and lovers.
It was melancholic—the act of rearranging the dining table to make space for our lipat–bahay boxes. I knew the sky felt the same in its grayish loom. The air that enveloped our little home was already different—at least for me because Bryce at the living room seemed to be enjoying his regular fire-chuck and peace–car YouTube shows.
A year ago, when we chose East Raya to be our first home as a family of three, Jaycelle and I also rearranged the dining table before anything else. We put a white doily–like table cloth underneath the rectangular glass and it instantly made the place feel more like home. The arrangement and the look had our touch.
This feeling—was it because I was alone doing the “undoing”? I updated Jaycelle with a picture of the messy house—a disarray that was certain of the move that we’ve been preparing for. On a lighter side, I was relieved of every thing that I get to single out in a big black trash bag. It was like weight off your shoulders when you finally dispose of those things that had been lingering with you for a year yet didn’t get to be used.
We can live without these, I thought.
In two days, the living room and kitchen were suctioned off into boxes neatly arranged by the door–waiting in a day or two to finally get out. I cleaned up each area as I emptied them—leaving less work for the unit owner and ultimately getting back most of our initial rent deposit.
We’re still halfway through packing and I’m excited of film–wrapping furniture and filling–in boxes in a Tetris–like manner.
But mostly, in making another page into a new chapter in our book of adventures.
Looks like decades ago when Ira, our beloved niece, scribbled on a piece of paper her fondness of Baby Bryce. It might be that our baby was still inside Jaycelle’s tummy and Ira was so excited to meet him or Bryce was already our—interacting and playing with his cousin.
What do you remember about this, Jaycelle?