The Kyna Diaries

— Paulo Coelho
SO TRUE!

— Paulo Coelho

SO TRUE!

F/W 15

ELIE SAAB COUTURE

Photos by Caroline Levy-Bencheton for LURVE Magazine

Why We Broke Up (my favorite lines Part 3)

Dear Ed,

— “See you Monday!” you called out, like you’d just figured out the days of the week. We thought we had time. I waved but couldn’t answer, because I was finally letting myself grin as wide as I’d wanted all afternoon, all evening, every sec of every minute with you, Ed. Shit, I guess I already loved you then. Already. First date, what could I do with my stupid self and the thrill of see you Monday? thinking there was time, plenty of time to see what pictures we’d made? But we never developed them. Undeveloped, the whole thing, tossed into a box before we really had a chance to know what we had, and that’s why we broke up.

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— And this note was a jittery bomb, ticking beneath my normal life, in my pocket all day fiercely reread, in my purse all week until I was afraid it would get crushed or snooped, in my drawer between two dull books to escape my mother and then in the box and now thunked back to you. A note, who writes a note like that? Who were you to write one to me? It boomed inside me the whole time, an explosion over and over, the joy of what you wrote to me jumpy shrapnel in my bloodstream. I can’t have it near me anymore, I’m grenading it back to you, as soon as I unfold it and read it and cry one more time. Because me too, and fuck you. Even now.

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— I’d ruin any day, all my days, for those long nights with you, and I did. But that’s why right there it was doomed. We couldn’t only have the magic nights buzzing through the wires. We had to have the days, too, the bright impatient days spoiling everything with their unavoidable schedules, their mandatory times that don’t overlap, their loyal friends who don’t get along, the unforgiven travesties torn from the wall no matter what promises are uttered past midnight, and that’s why we broke up.

— Dumping you times infinity. Still not enough.

— I can feel them now almost, as I hold this, the marks left from the way my hand clenched so tight and ragged with breath and wild joy in the back of that car, around this odd, thrilling thing you gave me that I can’t stand to look at ever again.

— “What?”

“We’re different, Ed.”

“That’s what I keep saying. And I keep saying I like it. I want to go here, Min. Just, you know, ten thirty would be fine. I’m tired, is all.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. Really, really tired. You kept me up late.”

With a shish, your tires, Joan’s tires you were driving, rolled through a puddle. I smiled at you, loved you then, bit my lip to keep from saying it. “But it was worth it,” you said.

I kissed you.

“Was that our first fight?”

I kissed you again.

“You taste good.”

I laughed. “Well, that’s coffee with extra cream and three sugars.”

“OK, give me it, if it tastes like it.”

I handed it over. You took it and sipped, and then sipped and blinked. Then, a big, big sip.

“I told you.”

“Jesus Christ.”

“Right?”

“This is—”

“Life-giving brew, is what Al and I call it.”

“Fucking delish, I don’t care it’s a faggy word, oops, sorry, no offense, sorry again. Delish! Criminy! This is like a cookie, it tastes like a cookie having sex with a doughnut.”

“Wait till the caffeine hits.”

“I’m going to have this every morning of my life, and I’m going to shout Min was right and I was wrong! when I do.”

You actually shouted it. I wonder if you say that every morning now, Ed. I mean I don’t wonder, I know you don’t, but I hope you think it as you don’t. Do you? Don’t you?

Real Recipes from Tinseltown. Like fate, was the feeling I had as I stood beaming breathless in the shop with this in my hands. Now, of course I see it differently, that it was not fate but fatal, fatal and wrong that we read the recipe and got excited and I shared with you all my dreamy plans… It didn’t last, it wasn’t clear for much longer, and that’s why we broke up, but when I close this book to give it to you, I don’t think about that, just us holding the book in our hands to buy it and take it here with us, because damn it Ed, that’s not why we broke up. I love it, I miss it, I hate to give it back to you, this complicated thing, it’s why we stayed together.

{Copyright 2011, Daniel Handler}

<3

Really bad love analogies and mostly medical-related TMI

One of my most favorite and absolutely one of the most loved professors in the UP Department of Psychology, Sir Ton Clemente, has published a long note in his facebook account about love analogies related to his experience in the hospital (get well soon, Sir!). Ang sarap basahin! (Note: It’s written mostly in Tagalog). Here are my favorite ones :)

Akala ko dahil na-heartbroken na ko dati, kayang-kaya ko na kahit anong klase ng sakit. But no, jusko, mas masakit maopera! Kaya umibig na lang tayo nang umibig at masaktan nang masaktan kesa naman maoperahan nang maoperahan. Tsaka kapag heartbroken, alam ko hindi naman nagko-collapse ang lungs. I love how ate nurse casually mentioned that in the recovery room. “Sir, deep breathing exercises po tayo ha. Nag-collapse po ang lungs niyo dahil sa anesthesia.” Wow, thanks. Hindi kaya tinuturo sa grad school how to un-collapse the lungs! Sa bagay, hindi rin naman tinuturo sa grad school how to mend a broken heart.

Nakalimutan ko na the last time it hurt like this. Doctor friends, former students who will soon be medical professionals, paano ba mababawasan ang pain? The last time kasi na nakaramdam ako ng ganitong kirot, alam ko, iniyak ko lang lahat habang nakikinig ng senti songs, tapos nakatulog na ko sa pagod at sakit ng mata. Paggising ko, medyo ok na ko kahit paano. Ganun din ba sa kalagayan ko ngayon? What songs will help me heal faster and move on? Makakatulong ba ang panunuod ng One More Chance? Haha.

Ang ganda ng operating room ng NKTI! (Dahil social climber ako, I like to call it NaKaTI Med. I can get away with it sa phone pag mahina at mabilis kong sinasabi. Haha). And I love how surgeons have this rockstar vibe! Ang elusive! Production number ang ganap habang inaantay ang kanilang pagdating. You never see them in action. Pag natapos na ang lahat, bibisita sila sa room na parang wala lang, just another day in the office, casually striking a conversation kahit na binago na nila ang buhay mo forever. Hello, kinuha kaya ni Doc yung gallbladder ko nang hindi nagpapaalam! Naalala ko tuloy yung unang nanakit sa ‘kin. Ganung-ganun din! Biglang dumating sa buhay ko nang di ko namamalayan. Aalis nang hindi nagpapaalam. Kukunin ang bahagi ng buhay ko na hindi na niya kailanman maibabalik! At pagkatapos ng lahat, makikipag-chat sa FB na parang walang nangyari!?! Haha. But I love Doc! At least may courtesy siya na kunin ang consent ko bago niya ko saktan.

1) Black coffee cups. I would love to buy myself one.

2) Dark chocolate peanut butter cookies. Yum!

3) Botanical Sports Bra by Onzie. Now this is definitely pre-/post-workout #ootd worthy.

4) Sweet Paul’s lemony poppy-seed layer cake. I love the ‘messy’ icing of it.

5) I love the packaging of these chocolate bars! Sooo 21st-century style, with graph and percentage and cool typography :)

6) An open closet — something I really wanna try when I get to have my own place.


Here are 18 stories, all about love, and about all kinds of love. From the aching for the one you pine for, to standing up and speaking up for the one you love, to pure joy and happiness, these love stories run the gamut of that emotion that at some point has turned every one of us inside out and upside down. What is love? With this original story collection David Levithan proves that love is a many splendored thing, a varied, complicated, addictive, wonderful thing.

I am so addicted to reading this past few months. I am still in the middle of reading Love, Rosie (an upcoming movie) and Why We Broke Up (which I&#8217;m totally digging), but I started on this new one by David Levithan! I saw this book displayed in the Fully Booked&#8217;s best sellers table and I just felt the need to explore what&#8217;s inside it. I just really love reading :)

Here are 18 stories, all about love, and about all kinds of love. From the aching for the one you pine for, to standing up and speaking up for the one you love, to pure joy and happiness, these love stories run the gamut of that emotion that at some point has turned every one of us inside out and upside down. What is love? With this original story collection David Levithan proves that love is a many splendored thing, a varied, complicated, addictive, wonderful thing.

I am so addicted to reading this past few months. I am still in the middle of reading Love, Rosie (an upcoming movie) and Why We Broke Up (which I’m totally digging), but I started on this new one by David Levithan! I saw this book displayed in the Fully Booked’s best sellers table and I just felt the need to explore what’s inside it. I just really love reading :)

Let’s be friends in Snapchat, shall we? Add me :) kyna_borlasa

LOVE Japanese food puns. (See more here.)

Sometimes you just need to let loose right?! This weekend, I planned to enjoy the cool breeze coming in through the window and just linger a little longer in bed, and I did today! I feel blessed to have such rest day(s), yet.&#160;;)
{Photo via The Fresh Exchange blog}

Sometimes you just need to let loose right?! This weekend, I planned to enjoy the cool breeze coming in through the window and just linger a little longer in bed, and I did today! I feel blessed to have such rest day(s), yet. ;)

{Photo via The Fresh Exchange blog}

We opened the windows tonight. This is the view from our unit in the 23rd floor of the condo. I can feel the chilly air coming in from the outside as I sit here in bed. Sadly, there are no stars tonight.
I&#8217;ve always loved looking from up above. Makes me realize yet again how big the world is, and that I dream of seeing more before my finite time here on earth ends. And I wonder, where are you right now? I wonder what are you doing, how are you feeling, who are the people you&#8217;re with, and if you&#8217;re looking outside too &#8212; wondering, missing, longing, remembering &#8212; like I am.

We opened the windows tonight. This is the view from our unit in the 23rd floor of the condo. I can feel the chilly air coming in from the outside as I sit here in bed. Sadly, there are no stars tonight.

I’ve always loved looking from up above. Makes me realize yet again how big the world is, and that I dream of seeing more before my finite time here on earth ends. And I wonder, where are you right now? I wonder what are you doing, how are you feeling, who are the people you’re with, and if you’re looking outside too — wondering, missing, longing, remembering — like I am.

Why We Broke Up (my favorite lines Part 2)

Dear Ed,

— You were almost late, which turned out to be as usual. I had a feeling. You weren’t going to show, was my feeling, the camera sweeping back and forth down the empty street in the movie of the date, October 5, me alone, gray, and pacing in the lens. So what, I thought. You’re just Ed Slaterton. Show up. Who cares? Show up, show up, where are you? Fuck you, everyone was right about you, prove them wrong, where are you?

And then from nowhere you were in my life again, tapping me on the shoulder with your hair combed and damp, smiling, maybe nervous. Maybe breathless like me.

It breaks my heart to give this back to you, but you’re already heartbroken, so we’re even, I guess.

— I stopped looking at her and looked, my God it was beautiful, at you. I kissed you. I can feel it, my mouth on you, I have a feeling now of the feeling I had then, even though I don’t have it anymore.

— December 5 is what I saw as we walked together on October 5, let’s go, let’s go together toward something extraordinary and I started making plans, thinking we would get that far.

— “Stop saying no offense,” I said, “when you say offensive things. It’s not a free pass.”

You tilted your head at me, Ed, like a dim puppy wondering why the newspaper’s on the floor. At the time it was cute. “Are you mad at me?” you asked.

“No, not mad,” I said.

“You see, that’s another thing. I can’t tell. You’re a different girl than usual, no offense Min, oops, sorry.”

“What are the other girls like,” I said, “when they get mad?”

You sighed and handled your hair like it was a baseball cap you wanted to turn around. “Well, they don’t kiss me like we were. I mean, they don’t anyway, but then they stop when they’re mad and won’t talk and fold their arms, like a pouty thing, stand with their friends.”

“And what do you do?”

“Get them flowers.”

“That’s expensive.”

“Yeah, well, that’s another thing. They wouldn’t have bought the tickets like you did, for the movie. I pay for everything, or else we have a fight and I get them flowers again.”

I liked, I admit, that we didn’t pretend there hadn’t been other girls. There was always a girl on you in the halls at school, like they came free with a backpack.

— “I’m playing Friday,” you said.

“And I sit in the stands and watch you win and all the cheerleaders scream for you and I wait for you to come out of the locker room standing by myself for a bonfire party full of strangers?”

“I’ll take care of you,” you said quietly. You reached out and brushed my hair, my ear.

“Because I’d be,” I said, “you know, your date.”

“If you were with me after the game, it would be more like girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend,” I said. It was like trying on shoes.

— “Ring this up and leave us alone.”

“I don’t have to put up with this,” [the old cashier] snarled. “Nine fifty.”

You gave her a bill from your pocket. “Don’t be that way. You know I love you best.”

That was the first time I saw that part, too. The [old cashier] melted into a fluttery puddle and smiled for the first time since the Paleozoic era. You winked, took the change. I should have seen it, Ed, as a sign that you were unreliable. Instead I saw it as a sign of charming, which is why I didn’t break it off right then and there, like I should have and wish wish wish I did.

{copyright 2011, Daniel Handler}

So right. A good everyday reminder.

So right. A good everyday reminder.