LLDDL'S BEST FRIEND HOLDS BEAUTIFUL TAGAYTAY WEDDING; LLDDL RESPONDS "OH, IT IS SO ON NOW!!!"

Seriously, who doesn't love Tagaytay? The drive is easy, the air is cool, the resto-shops are funky, and the view is the view. It's a must-stop for any tourist, a perfect place for a weekend home, a picturesque playground for the beautiful people. Our version of the Hamptons.

(OK, I've never technically been to the Hamptons, but I've read through every Martha Stewart magazine in Veluz's waiting room - twice - and thereby feel more than qualified to talk about it)

So when one of the LLDDL's best friends said she'd be holding her wedding at a place called Casa Blanca in Tagaytay, we were there. (although, really, she had us at "buffet".) Now, I know what you're thinking: Bride Wars. You know, friend throws a great wedding, LLDDL wants to respond in kind, eyebrows are raised, tongues are wagged, hilarity ensues. (or, if the guys are lucky, pudding-dessert wrestling!)

But no, there was none of that here (dammit). The LLDDL and the bride were dear friends from way back, the bride's mom one of our ninangs, and the groom a fellow child of 80's music. It was just one of those occasions where every girl was just so happy and nothing in the world could ruin the day for them, while guys were left to hope a tipsy bridesmaid would fall into the pool.

But seriously, there's no ill-will from the LLDDL at all. She'll even be the one to show you around. . .



. . . here's the viewdeck. . .



. . .here's the church fountain. . .



. . .here are the bride and the bridesmaids. . .



. . . and here's the (ahem) aforementioned pool.

(look, the guys drove for hours. . . there was an open bar. . .maybe somebody walks too close to the edge. . .I'm just saying, ladies)



See? Not a hint of anything wrong between the LLDDL and the bride. Just look at that angel face.



Actually, it was me who had reason to be jealous! (soooooo, sweetie...who's the dude? His bicep firmer than mine?)

And then, of course, was the cute end to every wedding: people picking apart and taking home the floral centerpieces. . .



. . . unless it's done by those creepy Pepe Le Pew types who hang around these things.

(Oh, bon jour bebe. . .You like les fleurs, oui?)

In the end, Bride Wars or no, this will be hard to top.

SUPPLIER SHOUT-OUTS

As the big day approaches, the LLDDL and I want to give thanks in advance to just some of the many people working very hard to ensure that our wedding day will be as meaningful and memorable as when Leia awarded those medals to Han and Luke. This is by no means an exhaustive list, and rest assured that when I'm at Post, I'll recommend that all y'all be invited to every nearby International Bridal Fair. After all, why should Pinoy guys be the only ones to have to suffer through those?

Kidding! Just kidding, sweetie! I enjoyed every bridal fair we went to!

(...every...single...weekly...bridal fair)

(BTW, after the wedding, the LLDDL will be addressed as the LLDD-hyphen-L)

Gown by Veluz

I'll be honest: I had never heard of Veluz -- or any other bridal designer for that matter -- prior to all of these wedding preps. (I'm a guy, sue me.) I do, however, know enough to know that the gown is the one thing that the bride must be perfectly happy with; the one thing we had to get right. So choosing the right designer was a big responsibility that caused a lot of anxiety and trepidation. Like choosing a child's school, I suppose. Or a proctologist. (um, so I've heard)

All our fears, however, were soon erased. I had two simple metrics for ascertaining how happy the LLDDL was with Veluz: A) could you wipe the smile off the LLDDL's face during/hours after every fitting?

That would be no.

. . . and B) is the design studio filled, not just with the future brides, but with their future husbands? In Veluz's case, there was always a steady stream of current and future clients, all with grooms in tow on their absolute best behavior. The mere fact that men were there (and not, say, waiting outside in the car playing PSP) told me everyone realized the brides-to-be were so very happy that Veluz was making their gowns that us fellas better just sit quietly and not do anything to screw this up or there'd be hell to pay. So sit quietly every dude did. For hours.

Stay strong, my brothers.

Hair and Make-up by Jesie and Raymond

Again, as the top photo shows, you simply couldn't remove the smile off the LLDDL's face throughout the whole process, and that was all I needed to know. On the other hand, the waiting area was strangely devoid of menfolk, despite the presence of a comfy couch, flat-screen TV and DVD player.

On closer inspection, all was revealed: the shelf had an alarmingly high rate of discs that appear in The Definitive List of DVDs No Dude can have in Their Collection.

No Seagal? No Requiestas? Tsk.

Barong(s) by Armie

Near my apartment, on the street I pass through every day to get to work, was this small boutique I never noticed, wedged somewhere between a bank and a motorcycle shop. Fortunately, the LLDDL had a natural-born talent for spotting window-display dummies from kilometers away, so one day we just looked for the store and walked in -- and happily discovered an absolute treasure trove of great Filipiniana. The owner could hook you up with pure, uncut piña straight from Laguna (you know, the good stuff). Heck, the materials were so fine, I had two barongs made, and will just make a game-time decision on which one to wear on the day itself.

Which led the LLDDL to exclaim, "Hoy! Bakit ikaw ang may Second Look?!"

Entourage by Baby

Is there any clothing and textile emergency on earth that can't be solved by a quick trip to Divisoria? I say no.

(I may or may not ask the LLDDL to wear something like this on the honeymoon.)

Photos by Jayson

I'll be honest once more: I dreaded the Pre-nup. For someone with self-diagnosed social anxiety disorder like me, the thought of going through Guy and Pip poses in public was not appealing at all. And as my older married sister put it, "In my time, we didn't have a Pre-nup. We just had a Nup."

This is where the LLDDL's inspired choice of a young, cool, extremely nice-guy photographer came in. Jayson immediately put us at ease, telling stories, cracking jokes, and generally making us feel as comfortable as possible. Before long, we didn't notice the camera pointed at us, or even all the point-and-snicker passers-by in the area. (still...Frak all of you!) And as the day went on, it just got more and more fun and enjoyable. Jayson even allowed us to channel our inner model and go through some goofy fashionista poses for the heck of it. Needless to say, the LLDDL nailed every "fierce" or "pouty" look asked of her, whereas my modeling range was somewhat more limited . . .

... from the "Smell the Fart"...

... to the "Constipated"...

... to the "Angrily Constipated".

Regardless of my patent Zoolander limitations, however, I have no regrets going through the Pre-nup shoot. Aside from the sheer fun of the whole thing, the LLDDL and I now have a DVD-full of romantic/dramatic/hilarious photos that we can take with us for the rest of our lives.

Hell yeah.

Wedding Related Postscript -- one of the best things about wedding preps is being able to reconnect with old friends during the distribution of the invitations. You get to see how fat people are getting, catch up on some gossip, and be asked to go inside their homes. In the case of "Yagballs", my old college buddy/kumpare/co-fantasy league manager, I was invited to check out his paintball collection. I thought, "cool", and expected to see a few interesting pieces. More appropriately, I should have thought "Tremors" and cried "Broke into the wrong God damn rec room, didn't ya!!!"

In his defense, "Yagballs" insists this is the way you get ready for marriage.

AT LAST, A WORTHY MATCH FOR THE YA SHOW SALESLADIES

If there's one thing that makes the Home Office neighborhood less than totally awesome, it's the presence of "mixers". These are those enterprising individuals who block the path of the general public, chase them down the sidewalk, grab their arms, poke a stick in their bags, rifle through their papers, hound them, interrogate them, perform cavity probes on them, and generally go where Jack Bauer wouldn't -- all for the purpose of coming to the same inevitable conclusion: "Ma'am, may kulang."

As relentless as a La Salle full-court press, mixers intercept people as soon as the latter step off their jeepneys, then go stride-for-stride with them the length of the street. They are so singularly focused on their marks that, one time, a particularly short "mixer" wouldn't watch where he was going and ran his face straight into my (ahem) muscular shoulder. And, oh, those tactics! When some public address loudspeakers were once set up on the roadside, the "mixers" countered by drowning them out with that greatest of Philippine inventions -- karaoke!

Hopefully, the whole situation will be resolved very soon. In the meantime, I have this recurring daydream/fantasy where the people are overwhelmed by "mixers", so I climb up one of those blue lampposts and in a loud yet deep baritone yell "Citizens! Follow me! Follow me TO FREEDOM!!", whereupon everyone looks up from the arm-grabs and bag-pokes, breaks free from the "mixers", then starts marching behind me while chanting Dad-dy! Dad-d...er...Man-ny! Man-ny! An 80s-movie musical montage may or may not also ensue the POINT BEING if you're ever in the Home Office neighborhood, just go about your business and keep walking. If it ain't broke, don't "mix" it, ika nga.

But do stay for some karaoke after.