Just now, for the lack of something interesting or amusing to write about for the past two weeks and for the need to brush up my writing for it to be creative enough for that Creative Writing class, I’ve decided to chronicle my sister’s journey to the Ring of Fire — no not yet, to the Island of Love at least. She should thank me for doing this series of posts as this will serve as her own time capsule of the digital age, something she can look back on in the years to come. (I read that freaking line a lot from freaking blog introductions and it’s freaking jading just like how jading it is to see three freakings in one sentence.) The only thing I am maintaining from the second sentence before this is “She should thank me” and that’s because I am giving her a glittery spotlight in my blog. Blame hormonal imbalance for my cockiness and irritability.

Anyway, my sister and her boyfriend have decided to get married in May next year — the same month they first get to meet each other. Very crazy, I don’t deny it, but the mother of the fellow argues that with his son’s age approaching 44, he has already wasted a lot of time.. so yes, shotgun wedding is the way to go. A brief overview of what the situation will be like in May: my dad is in Saudi Arabia, my eldest sister is in Japan spending the last two months of her one-year contract there and I, on a completely unrelated note, have a longer hair by then. Two family members missing and under 28 days, he has to meet all of our relatives in Quezon and Bulacan, get to know my sister personally, go out on a date with her, fix my sister’s Visa and passport, make the necessary preparations for their wedding and finally, the wedding itself. Let me repeat, 28 days. Maybe he knows how to time-bend.

Of course, my parents and I disagree with this. They have seen what my sister was like to his first boyfriend Emil and just a caveat, it was utterly disastrous. The first time they met, everything ended and from what I observed, it was all due to the long and pointed chin the guy has and the comfort it provides when he doesn’t have anything to reply to my sister’s blabbing. What are the chances it wouldn’t happen again with his Dominican? Not that I have anything against men with black complexion and polygenic inheritance itself, but I know my sister, she likes men who are doing pretty good in the looks department. Let’s see.. I probably got it from her.

Since they are more than sure that in the next seven months nothing, no one and no deity will stop them from “loving each other so much” (she said this herself), she finally made up her mind to lay out the details to my dad — the final gavel. My dad told her to have the guy e-mail him himself but the message got lost in translation from the English to the Deaf English; hence, she gave my dad the guy’s email. C’mon, who ever heard of a father getting on the good side of his daughter’s suitor? After the haggling between my parents and my sister that lasted for a day and a half, it has been settled that May should be mostly spent on them trying to know more of each other and the wedding being jostled to December of next year. Much much better, I say.

As they used to remark in Filipino soap operas, abangan ang susunod na kabanata.

PS: True story.