Happy Valentine's Day...

"There is no greater feeling than doing something you love with someone you love." --Nikki Reed

This blogpost has been brewing for some time in my overactive brain. I wanted to speak of the love story of Nikki Reed (Rosalie of Twilight fame) and her husband, Paul McDonald (The guy from American Idol). Why? Well, I am a fan of Twilight in general, books more so than the movies, although the movies did bring Robert Pattinson (my muse) to the forefront, but I digress. I am a fan of American Idol, and I recall watching Paul McDonald whose voice is a throwback of Rod Stewart/Bob Dylan stylings and folksy rock yumminess in general. I remember watching him in his various stand out suits thinking, I really hope this guy makes it far. My friends agreed that he had great vocals and a killer smile. He didn’t get the AI crown, but he did find his wife, Nikki via the show.


I remember when the contestants attended the Red Riding Hood movie premiere. Paul met Nikki. She gushed over his talent. He was surprised and in awe of how beautiful she was/is. He tells the camera he has no idea who she is exactly. I thought that was awesome. At 0.54 they meet....


By the end of the season, she was in the audience as his supportive girlfriend. Fast forward, they are doing duets for the final Twilight movie, Breaking Dawn 2, as husband and wife. Beautiful.


Nikki indicated that she had always loved to sing, but until she met Paul, she never had the courage to pursue it. I think her voice is gorgeous and they duet beautifully together.

My point is, in your life, whomever you meet—boyfriend/girlfriend, spouse, child, sister, friend, co-worker, should bring out the shine in you. I feel blessed with the many valentines in my life and I feel like their presence in my journey makes me want to be the best I can be.

Best wishes to Nikki and Paul. May they continue to make beautiful music together.

Happy Hearts Day everyone.

Nikki’s blog here.

These Gents Cubed! Ivan³, John³ and Henry³…..Day 2 NaBloPoMo!

"Wookin Pa Nub in all da wong paces!" --Eddie Murphy as Buckwheat

Patterns, love them. I’m not mathematical at all, needing a calculator at yard sales to keep my addition and subtraction in check. But, I’m into patterns, symbols and over-analyzing connection when my husband might just say it’s COINCIDENCE. Now, I’m not a conspiracy theorist, but when over-analyzing my life, past and present, certain symbols rise up like cream. I’ve wanted to detail this before and I’ve notice this pattern of boys/men in my life many years ago, but with NaBloPoMo, I’m digging deep for good blog posts. So, I’ve had two boyfriends in my past. The first at 21 (John) and the last (Henry) at 28 years of age. I married my second boyfriend. I’ve been attracted to dudes name “John” (and its various forms) and “Henry”. Ivans, not so much as you will read.

*************The Ivans***************** In third grade, Ivan T. stalked me. He was a tan, rotund, robust Guam boy with curls. I guess, he wasn’t my cup of Tang at that age and it didn’t last more than a month—him following me, that is. But, when a third grader says he’s going to marry you someday, with as much conviction that an 8-year-old boy could muster, a girl could freak out—at least I did. In high school, I was acquainted with an Ivan M., green eyes, nice Chamorro boy, not a great conversationalist, but again I wasn’t feeling his flow—his stalker tendencies came into full bloom when I was in college. He was a bag boy at one of the only major grocery chains on island. I worked at a clothing retailer (Sparkle—yes, that was the name—don’t ask) in a strip mall outside of the grocery store. He loved collecting shopping carts and slowly, creep by our store front—I would be the girl hiding behind mannequins. A few months later, the second Ivan’s buddy, who worked in the same store as a butcher, came a courtin’ too. Tall, dark and hella scary with his white apron stained with blood. His name? Ivan. (cue eerie X-Files music).

********The Johns ******* I’ll be more coy here. First boyfriend at 21 (I was a late, late bloomer with a very intimidating to all men of a father), a few dates with another John back when teased bangs were cool and rock bands like Firehouse, Stryper and Slaughter were on the airwaves, and then the final John who “thought” he liked me, when I knew he really liked MEN, but he himself was still not aware of this. (Later verified). ****************************The Henrys**************** Back when Guam still had the wonderful department store, Gibsons, I loved me a comic book sales clerk named, Henry. My parents would drop me off to “stroll” with my other 13 -year-old friends, and we would walk by the comics to see the cutie. Never spoke to him….. Then down the street in the village I grew up in, was a much older Henry. Handsome for sure, great hair, mestizo, macho and mysterious. Never spoke to him either, but gagged and stuttered a lot if he was near. There could be a fourth Henry, which only solidifies that Henry would be a man I married--again, my over-critical brain at work....but, this little Henry was a teenager and I was ten years his senior in our Tae Kwon Do class...already engaged to my one and only Henry....I set young Henry straight, right quick, roundhouse and ax kick included. Kidding.....

But, the most important man to me, is my husband, Henry. The one who matters in the end of this equation. So, there, the dudes I remember most in my girl meets boy world. ************************Day 2, National Blog Posting Month! Accomplished!******************

Esta Later!