no cinderella

Two weeks ago, M and I got the idea that in order for you not to be left by anyone, you should render yourself indispensible in that particular person's life. Indispensible meaning: you have to make an irreversible mark on almost every aspect of that person's life. This idea was inspired by one of our friends who so loved the mussels M's mother baked that he professed that if he had a wife who cooked like that, he'd never leave her.

I've always believed that to keep a relationship healthy, you have to do away with certain role-assignations. We are, after all, living in a century where husbands cook and look after the kids while the wives go faithfully to their 8-5 jobs everyday. This is not an uncommon set-up and in fact, most of us would, in all honesty, like to uphold this particular way of thinking.

But let's face it: the people we'll be marrying would most likely come from families who are basically traditional, religious, and normal. Unless you'd be marrying a man or a woman who have been raised by colorros, you'd still have to practice certain norms.

My problem with this whole thing is: I was not raised to live a life of domesticity. Since I was brought up mouthing our only coherent family principle, which is Learn by Example, I could not find anyone reliable enough to look to regarding house-keeping matters because we always had a maid and my parents were too busy with their lofty activities to keep up with the rest of the floor-sweeping world. 

Ergo, if there was a course called Normal Things That Girls Should Need To Know How To Do Or Else, there is no doubt in my mind that I would fail it wonderfully. On purpose.

I do not know how to do the following properly:

a) Wash clothes

Now I'm not a complete doofus. I know that coloreds go with coloreds and the whole 'do not yoke with whites doth which are not whites" laundry rules. What I don't know is how to properly scrub them. I had a housemate in college who once chanced upon me washing my underwear. She just sort of stood there and watched me, said "That's not the way to do it," then walked away. Since I've never had any discussions with anyone about my laundry habits, I've never really known what she meant. So if washing machines are out of the budget, I'm dead.  

b) Cooking

Here's my personal calvary, my irredeemable waterloo. I don't know how to cook. I only know how to cook rice using a rice cooker. I don't know how to make things more edible, thus easier, for anyone's hunger pangs. 

Again, another college boo-hoo: My roomate caught me making ready-to-cook Pancit Canton and laughed at me because the water in the pot that I was boiling was fit to make soup for an entire basketball team. 

She likes telling that story, by the way.

c) Other Woman-Of-The-House Activities

I can make coffee but if I'm tired and feel like adopting my infamous log-scene-from-all-log-scenes pose, I can do absolutely nothing for you. I can't tie a tie or a bow tie. I can't press dress shirts. I can't give a satisfactory massage. (I'm just a glutton for negativity, aren't I?)

***** 

Day 1: Project As-Domestic-As-I-Can-Friggin'-Get

So, this morning, I tried to bleach his white shirts, arrange his shirts in the closet, clean our room, sweep the living room floor. I managed to do the floors and the room but I just quit with the shirts. Just the mere idea of doing the bleaching and the organizing bamboozled me. I just could not find it in myself to be anything that would resemble anyone who would be a danged pleasure to live with.

So there. I quit the audition for normalcy. I quit bleaching white shirts. I quit the Find-The-Right-Tablecloth-For-Your-Unattractive-Table competition. I quit trying to know how to properly knot a tie. I quit thinking about how to make Sinangag taste just right. I quit.

Today I realized  

that even if I tried, I would not be able to do all the things that would be expected of me, if I were to turn into a wife. There are some people who are cut for some tasks and I'd have to confess that I am not. Maybe this is the defeatist in me; maybe it's my inherent laziness, rearing its ever-present head. But really, if I can't do it, I won't. I will never try to be somebody I am not. If there are people out there who are happy doing those things, well, good for them. I guess I'm just too old and too cranky to do anything that might be against the way I normally operate.

But don't worry your sweet little head, I'll find other ways to make myself indispensible to you. And if I do, it'll be something with much more character than just getting the sheets clean.