A government employee
After waitin for maver to finish changin’ from her deaconess uniform one Thursday noon, I ask’d if we could use tha side door insteada main door to exit juz fo’ tha change in routine.
“No, I wanna see how many of my sakops went”, maver went and steer'd me to tha direction of tha tarhetas.
“You are such a government employee…”, I told her.
“What?!”
“Never mind.”
“Have you lost your mind again?”
*A government employee, by ma defn’tn, through 3 months of puttin’ up wit em, is a person who veers towards tha routinary way of living. They have tha urgent need to do thangs tha normal customary way and others can’t tell em othawise fo’ it will be a mortal error fo’ em equivalent to getting’ jail’d or sumthin worse, heaven forbid. Tis applies fo’ goin to werk [8-5 @ tha O. no matter if ya hafta do werk outside tha office & ye are better able to werk bcuz tha O. lack’d O. supplies], not bendin’ tha rules even a bit fo’ a special case [no, we can’t have a photo caption releas’d to tha media becuz it is not yet approved no matter if it’s juz two sentences and we are tryin’ to beat newspapah deadlines and tha mayor ain’t nowhere to approve], and bein’ ridiculously afraid of their amos, they won’t a] speak a word of mockery pertainin to em not even in a jokey way b] grant interviews or answer harmless questions needed to give meat fo’ press releases c] give copies of harmless statistical documents fo’ fear of losin’ their jobs.

In search for piec’d together used packs of juices

I do not know where I git ma energy to wander to for hours @ faraway places. Mebbe it’s true wut they say bout peepz who have moles on feet? Tha last day of werk before Christmas break and I was up by 4am after only 4hours of sleep. After gon to church and to work, I realized I still do not have gifts fo’ tha maternal clan which am seein tha next day. Not keen on havin to give away cash when tha kin come wishin’ me a happy holiday, I decided to go to tha place where sewn together tetra packs of juices are bein sold as bags. Only prob is I had no idea exactly where it is tho’ I know tha name of tha town [which is extensive and big.] So I hail’d a jeep and ask’d tha driver to take me there. So he took me to tha factory but they were clos’d fo’ tha day and not sellin’ anymore as tha bags I saw there were pre-order’d by some people from France. So I ask’d around fo’ otha possible Zesto bag-sellin’ places and walk’d and walk’d [no trykes or jeeps in sight] till I arrive @ a row of rundown houses wit tetrapacks hangin’ out on tha windows to dry. And I approach’d one & ask’d tha ales livin there whereelse I can buy a sewn-up Zesto bag. And they invited me in while ale1 chang’d clothes to escort me to tha seamstress of Zesto bags she knows. And while I was waitin, soiled little kids scatter’d ‘round and inspected me, starin’ @ tha grey&black-skirted stranger wit stood-on-ends hair sittin in their living room. Tho there was lotsa space in tha bench, they did not sit next to me but stood facin me and they’d giggle, hit each other and hide behind each other’s backs everytime I talk to one of em. I ask’d em wut grade level they are in and in typical kid fashion, one not only answer’d ma queschn, but volunteer’d other facts about herself as well, never mind that I did not ask her. Kid said she was in grade one -that all of them are- and that they were in section three, sounding as if being in section three makes all tha difference. Meanwhile it felt as if tha ale had forgotten bout me and gone to sleep and while I was deciding between staying and leaving, I took out tha remaining box of butterscotch bars I had baked tha previous night which was s’pos’d to be for a friend I did not see that day and handed it to tha kids. And then tha ale materialized & we all went to tha Zesto-bag maker which turn’d out to be another 50 or so miles away. Fascinating is tha fact that I was carryin’ wit me three-months’ worth of office junk while walkin. And then after buying bags, I wana buy a gift for someone not related to me. So wit tha added bulk of bags, ma personal bag, and tha big bag of office goop, I waited for hours for a MegaMall FX but no such vehicle pass’d ma way and I chatted wit tha ale in boredom of waitin & tha ale turn’d out to be waitin for a “Crossing jeepney” but no such luck either till twas getting dark already and she told me shed juz ride a “Kanto jeepney” first -which was practically tha only vehicle passin our way anyway. So she’ll git off where chances of a “Crossing jeepney” is more likely. Since I am impatient I went wit her. But after getting off @ tha kanto, she disappeard & there aint still a MegaMall FX so I rode “her” Crossing jeepney instead. And walked for miles till I reached tha Mall. And then I did not find anything interesting. So I walk’d all tha way back to tha Shangri-La mall. And that’s where I spent tha rest of ma cents on gifts. All in tha spirit of Christmas.
***

Lookin back at that day when ma bossy immediate superior wasn’t so bossy

She usually barks orders all day long. That day she hasn’t given me any, nor has she shouted at me or scolded me. She was at peace, serenely reading a pocketbook that was not work-related and playin games on our pc. Her fire had gone out and it’s as if she’d gone to heaven and tha person I’m wit was reduc’d to a body task’d to do normal functions like reading pocketbooks and talkin to me occasionally. She had given herself a pat on tha back that is tha assurance that from then on she will have it good by her final decision to git out of that place. I know becuz aside from “behaving”, she also pack’d her thangs into a big plastic bag @ tha end of tha day. She was also initiating conversations on our way home -askin me if I liked a certain food, etc.- like she was squeezing in topics that may connect us wit wut was left of our last moments wit each other. Her actions were clear statements that she was leaving. She had a place to go to. I diden. I was not ready to give ma’self peace tha way she did two months ago. Now I am. Tho I still have nowhere to go. So long terrible government workplace! I have struggled wit ya long enuf! I had fun fighting off yer inhabitants! It’s time to piss off other peepz!

i love to see the ocean’s beauty
and the moon that shines above
alone in the sand looking at the stars
wishing someday i would find true love
would it be nice to see the morning
with the one you love the most
would it be nice to say goodnight
to the one you hold so close to your heart
to your heart.

the wind that blows the dove
is the wind that blows my love
hope it’ll find its way to you wherever you are.

i love to sit in fields of green
looking deeply through the sky
watching birds as they fly by
hoping someday fate will bring me true love.
would it be nice to hold someone
so dear, near yo ur heart
would it be nice to hear those words
i love you from the one that you love,
that you love.

i’d love to see myself one day
in the arms of someone
who will share her life with me
selflessly…someday…
you will find your way to me…

-south border

Ma next-door-neighbors @ tha O are startin to speculate about ma sanity, I know.

Ma only officemate up & left me. Our office is currently bein’ demolish’d. Aside from still not havin phone, basic supplies like stapler & glue, it’s now diminish’d into 1/4 of its original dimension. Tha aircon & tha white light are on tha side bein repair’d on leavin’ me in a dusty, wood-smellin, claustrophobic, dark small space wit no ventilation wutsoever…
“Did you ask for an electric fan at least?”, a concerned neighbor ask’d.
“They wouldn’t give me.” [whilst typing mechanically @ a pc connected to an electrical outlet someone had unscrew’d]
“Won’t you at least take the computer out so you’ll be cooler then just take it in when you’re done?”
“I don’t mind really.” Tha pc stand do not have wheels and someone stole tha plank where tha fusebox fo’ switchin tha pc on&off used to be so tha fusebox now sat on tha floor –All makin it hard to lug tha pc in & out spesh in an office where there’s no officemate [‘cept for tha black lady, fkors].

I bask’d in ma seclusion stubborn as a mule –friendless, supply-less, & officemate-less- determin’d to stick it out till ma salary saves me.
***
Them nosy government employees start to git catty & petty.

Typical Queschns Aim’d @ Yours Truly:
1] How much is your salary?
2] Wut does your father do for a livin’?
3] Your mother?
4] Where did you study?
5] Approximately how many square kilometers does your house measure to?

Anu itu, LIFESTYLE CHECK? I guess how I answer will be their basis fo’ likin’ me or not. Or they just need excuses to hate me and any will do whether it be right or wrong based on their own perverse judgment system. And then they make catty comments about every aspect of ma life. Hey “friends”, I juz wna make it clear hiyah: MONEY has a way bigger callin’ to me than y’all. No, I am NOT thinkin bout resigning @ all coz MUKHA AKONG PERA –got that?

I resolve to save enuf to have something worthy to fill tha blanks in in tha assets, liabilities & networth section of tha papers tha Personnel department is makin me fill in.
***
Steel Bars Shall Not Come Into Collision Unto Thy Back

That is why I try to avoid tha second-to-tha-last passenger seat [near tha loading side of tha jeep] as best as I could where tha steel handles dig real deep & are murder fo’ ma back.

I was lonely for someone to talk to but after dialin’ a few persons’ numbers from ma list of selected people to call and not findin’ any of em home, I diden feel like returnin’ tha receiver to its cradle just yet so I dial’d a random number…
Me: May I speak wit.. [paused to make up name] ..J please?
Kid: Eto na nga siya.. bakit?
Me: Ha?? D nga! You’re really named J?
Kid: Oo nga. Sino ba to?
Me: Ah. [thinkin up excuse] Eh hinahanap ko yung matandang J eh. Wala na bang ibang J diyan?
Kid: Wala. Ako lang dito.
Me: Ilang taon ka na ba?
Kid: 12
Me: Ah k. Wrong number nga! Bye!
***
I was still maudlin & restless so I decided to send tha big fanciful “Shayn loves you” message in ma phone done in lined-up rows of parentheses to kith and kin that are close to ma heart. Cousins, aunts, uncles, former classmates, and close friends alike were all victims of ma “KSP” mood, tryin to solicit an ounce of attention from em. Only 2 heeded: Madcow S. who was comin home late & who, gettin ma message warp’d in his Sony Ericsson phone, ask’d me wut t’was, and tha unfailing Fox mother hen Lada who forwarded a friendship quote.
***
Miss en wab co kayo! …miss ño ba’co? Eh wab? Wah!!!!

Kung hindi maghihintay ang naghihintay sakin
Magsasalisi ang buhay naming
Tulad ng mga planetang nag-aabangan
Sa kani-kaniyang landasin-
Bawal mag-engkwentro
At baka malansag kristal na uniberso
->Rolandio Tinio

La lan. I juz felt like…

Goin fo’ a 3-day visit to Baguio witout money.
Forgettin to pack ma own towel.
Packin’ a mini skirt to a place wit freezing cold weather.
Takin lotsa fab pics wit ma phone then givin’ ma phone away via droppin it on tha sidewalk.

La lan.

And then when I got home…
Ambling round in tha mall wit no specific purpose in mind then remembering 3 hours later that I have left ma plastic folder somewhere -tha plastic folder which contained ma civil service eligibility documents, resume, employee clearance, sample works and [gulp]… tha check fo’ ma 13th month pay which is tha very last of ma riches & is meant to pay electric bills and such. [W/c I found wit tha guard in Bench after a frantic search & askin’ all over tha place]
Paying tha fare fo’ ma jeepney ride home before gettin’ off again whilst remembering tha Bench package I left at tha grocery’s package counter.

I’m on a roll.

I had been complainin bout ma eyes & head fo’ weeks but wen maver finlly told me to go see tha doc I waver’d.
Ma: Bilisan mo na kumilos. Pupunta ka ngayon sa duktor.
Me: Ngayon? Eh pano kung wala palang diperensya sacen?
Ma: Eh di mabuti nga kung ganon! Ano ka ba?
Onga noh.
***
I had no idea ma bro of 22 years is such a likeable person. A day of skipp’d work & they [3 gals] came barrelin’ gaily @ home. One of em was tha HR person. [prolly checkn if bro’s really sick] Upon findin’ out & suddenly rememberin a certain test, I ask’d her wutz up wit a particularly unrelenting sentence completion test that keep turning up @ every company I apply in. She said tha company was tryin to find out if tha applicant has any conflicts wit in tha family etc. If that’s true, am wonderin wut they make of ma answers, I bein tha ultimate contender fo’ unrevelatory answers… Some of ma answers read:
My father never… fails to watch his fave soaps everyday.
My mother… looks nuthin like her daughter.
When I was a child I… was fat.
Sometimes am too lazy to think of answers of ma own so I get it from tha previous queschn juz like “Someday, I want….”, to which I answer’d “..people to work for me.” Tha previous queschn was “People who work for me…”.
***
It has occur’d to me that some persons might be searchin fo’ certain posts bout em in tis blog. Well am sowee but I can’t post about you if you keep reading tis. Guess you’ll juz hafta find ma other diary. Haha!

It’s almost night. I’m so bored I wanna git married. I alwez resort to tha idea of gettin’ married in ma mind when tha world pisses me off. I wud be like, Ah ganun ha! Y’all don’t wana bend to ma wishes? Bahala kayo! I’ll elope & git married to ___ [sum1 I know who has lotsa cash] or if not, I will marry ma’self to any random rich man I cud find, however horrendously ugly. Insteda suicidal thoughts, I git marriage thoughts wen am angry/depress’d. Why not have everything while havin nuthing? And now, am so terribly bored am actin angry/depress’d. Hay. Yea D., money is indeed tha answer to 80% of tha world’s problems.

I miss thangs.  

Like ma pc whose endless “Rescued Document” files & otha thangs I’ve deleted to keep tha remaining free disk space @ 2GB.

Ma framed photo of Hua Ze Lei on ma desk.
Ma desk & tha spiders on it.
Ma hand-me-down printer from Manel which prints unevenly unless you hold tha paper in place.

Ma balloon. [tha one they placed on ma tower of cubes when they lunch’d out & I mis’d a day of work]

Tha "tape recorder"
Ma newly discover’d desktop game @ ma pc wherein amidst a big sea, Dogbert slingshots people onto islands, mountains, planes, submarines, etc.

Checkin on tha boss' daily planner to see if he has plans of stayin in tha O
Turnin’ on tha radio when tha boss is out.
Hurryin’ to tha one & only Internet-connected pc in tha O “ “ “ “ “.
Havin’a mini picnic of pancit canton/Mr. Chips/doughnuts “ “ “ “ “.
Takin’ mini trips to tha mall “ “ “ “ “.
Goin’ to work early on Thursdays.

Seein’ one of Ate Emy’s gazillion cats approach outta tha corner f ma eye & mistakin em fo’ people.
Hearin tha word “tarpaulin”.
Same goes for “Ta-waaagan mo”.
Tha clang of tha petty cash [box] bein open’d & clos’d.
Tha jangle of BZ’s car keys [much like tha sound of pots & pans to a dog’s ears].
 
And these thangs ‘bout these peepz:

Manel’s laugh, charger, & her gazillion credit card callers.
Tha rubbing alcohol & coffee sachets JP provides.

Elmer’s pretend-drunk way of talkin’ & his efforts @ misspellin ma name [‘Shyne’ insteda ‘Shayn’] -as I hate peepz who spell ma name tha right boring way.
Daren’s altruistic grantin’ of favors to every’un & his unusual bits of knowledge on health & otha things.

Paul’s antipatiko quips.
Mang C’s chitchat.
BZ’s pasalubongs from his trips.
 
...And tha balm that soothed ma unemployment-ness:
Printing 20 sets of resumé courtesy of Manel’s printer. [mine only does black&white]
Bein’ treated to Yellow Cab pizza on ma last day courtesy of Paul who took time to visit.
Gettin’ ma 15 downloaded songs burn’d on a CD courtesy of Daren.
JP’s temptin’ offer fo’ me to take anythang I fancied in tha O minutes before leavin. [tha wall art décor was too big to fit in ma paper bag]
Elmer’s talk of how happy a vacation is tha day tha two of us were sent on field.
***

Will they miss ma “not-there-but-there” presence?
 

Don’t ask me for directions I’m asleep day
Can anyone not ask me directions in tha jeep? I’m sleepin’ ok? So wut if I look awake, I sleep wit ma eyes open. I do not know if you rode tha wrong jeep or if ya miss’d yer stop or if tis jeep is goin’ to yer destination. All I know is I’ll git off @ ma stop, alrighty? To tha two lost persons who ask’d me fo’ directions tis morn & evenin’, believe me, y’all are better off witout ma help. I'm as gewd as tha person next to ya sleepin! Directions, of all thangs! Sheesh!
***
Givin’ manong his day’s supply of bente-cinco’s
When I was ‘bout to pay fo’ ma 2nd ride goin to work, I realiz’d all I have are coins. Purely twenty-five cent ones, wit ma next closest money bein’ a hundred. So I started countin out coins meticulously, wantin’ to hand tha exact amount & not wantin any coin to spill over tha muddy floor. It bein a crowded jeep, ‘twas only logical to first balance both ma bag & paperbag at ma knee where they lean’d towards ma seatmate while I counted coins. [I counted out 26, should’ve given 28 but I was 2 coins short] Then witout warning, ma seatmate suddenly sprang forward to sit on tha wider space a passenger had juz vacated across, causin’ ma white paperbag to fall on tha wet floor, tha male biatch! I had nuthin to wipe it wit so I juz let tha muddy side face away from me –and that’s when a new passenger in pale yellow shirt sat next to me & instantly acquired a brown spot on his sleeve courtesy of ma paper bag. Tha man kept lookin’ @ his sleeve & @ me but I was still sore @ tha man across fo’ droppin’ ma bag so I pretended not to notice. Sowee, not ma fault!

At tha fete:
1.We watch’d Pammy perform both original & cover songs wit tha rest of Mozzie and sing ‘Moonlight Over Paris’ wit Paolo S.
2.A lanky thin American in his thirties approach’d, extended his hand to me & spoke to me in fast slang w/c ma untrained-for-a-callcenter-career-ears diden catch… sumthin’ like “My middle name’s ____ and I’d like to make your day.” Or “My middle name’s ____ and I _____ you someday.” Then smiled like he was really pleas’d wit himself, waited a few moments fo’ my response [I sorta grimaced] then was gone.
3.We listen’d to ‘Itsumo’ perform’d live by Dice & K-9 at tha hiphop concert @ tha Basement.
4.We watch'd Gabby eat his dinner on a patis container.
5.We trusted Ruth more wit tha wheel to try to clown around wit her as she drove us home [‘Sssshhhtt!!! This is very crucial!” –Ruth tryin to make us stop as she turn’d into a street. ]
6.We ask’d Leidy how her new object of affection [potential contender fo’ Lada’s legendary 7 year-crushhood?] look’d…
Leidy: “Oo, gwapo siya pero—…“
Kathy: “Pero..?! Anong pero?!? Gwapo siya pero walang ilong. Gwapo siya pero isa lang ang mata. Gwapo siya pero walang gilagid…anong pero?!!!
7.We grill’d Kathy ‘bout her 'palangga'.
8.We miss’d Patwee.

Bad blood in tha jeepneys
Resentment run high among passengers lately who git less change than wut they expected & who are very averse on dishing out an extra buck fo’ tha driver who claims their bayad is kulang. [Those who were charg’d more fo’ today’s fare than yesterday’s harbor ill feelings towards tha manong who takes away tha pre-fated peso that would have added to ease some other expense while those who were charg’d less fo’ today than yesterday harbor ill feelings towards yesterday’s manong.] I was one of these forehead knittin’ passengers yeterday when as I handed tha exact amount I was ask’d for tha previous day on a jeep goin tha same route, tha driver ask’d for more. [piso pa] Which I dish’d. And he drive’d. But @ an exaggerated leisurely pace. And witout failin to stop @ each human being we encounter on tha 45-minute drive fo’ him to invite to ride his jeep. So that even if I woke up moderately early fo’ work, his pace was makin’ me moderately piss’d & late. So that a cop busted him fo’ stopping in tha middl of tha highway for a passenger [who got off soon as tha cop approach’d], causin more delays. Then juz as I had predicted, far into tha ride soon as tha other remaining passenger left, manong ask’d me where I plan to git off [“Dun pa po!”], prolly thinkin’ he could talk me into getting off right that instance. I diden. I rode for every cent & extra buck he ask’d, hell if he’ll make me walk miles & be later than I already was!
***
Badder blood in the jeepneys
Today, [tha post before tha asterisks happen’d yesterday] I unintentionally caus’d a rift between a co-passenger & tha driver when, upon noting that tha elderly alé @ ma right handed over suspiciously fewer coins fo’ someone who’s headed @ tha same stop, I ask’d tha alé how much she gave [P6]. I then ask’d tha manong fo’ ma 50cent change since he charg’d me P6.50 earlier. Then ruckus comenc’d…

Manong [still quite meek]: “Hindi, sikspibti talaga ang pamasahe, pinatawad co lang nga kanina nung siks lang ang inabot.
Alé [flaring up]: “Anong sikspibti? Araw-araw akong sumasakay, siks lang binabayad ko eh!”
Manong: “Kahit tingnan nyo pa po sa papel, sikspibti na pag 4 kilometers! Pinatawad ko na nga lang kayo kaya lang may nagreklamo”
Alé: “Eh first 4 kilometers pa lang, dapat nga paybpibti lang ang bayad eh! O, eto!” [dishing out 2 twenty-fives angrily]
Manong[at tha same time handing over 50 cents]: “Hindi nga pinatawad na nga lang kayo eh! Pakibigay nga sa nagreklamo!” [Since both tempers are flaring, I did not dare to git ma 50 cents back & juz let tha alé take it.]

There was peace fo’ 10 minutes.

Then:
Manong [in a surprisingly louder, fed-up voice while getting out a piece of paper tuck’d among his belongings]: “O, ETO! BASAHIN NYO! PARA MALAMAN NYONG MALI KAYO! WALA NAMANG BAYAD NA SIKS DYAN! PAYBPIBTI, SIKSPIBTI, SEBENPIBTI… GANUN LANG!”
Alé [not even bothering to look @ tha paper so I hafta pass it to tha manong again]: “HINDI NAMAN ORIGINAL YAN EH! NAKIKINIG KAMI NG RADYO, NANONOOD NG TV ARAW-ARAW, ALAM NAMIN KUNG MAGKANO ANG IBABAYAD!”
Manong: “BAKIT, PAG NAG-PA-PIKSYUR BA KAYO, IBIG NYO BANG SABIHIN HINDI NA KAYO YON? KOPYA NGA LANG YAN PERO TAMA YAN!”
Alé: “EH MALAY BA NAMIN KUNG TOTOO TALAGA YAN, SA IBANG DYIP, NAKAPASKIL SA HARAPAN! KAHIT NA BIGYAN PA KITA NG SANDAAN, WAG KA LANG MANLOKO!
Manong: “BAKIT NGA PAG SA LITRATO, KAYO RIN NAMAN YUN AH! [then as an afterthought] YUNG NAKAPASKIL KONG KOPYA, BINAKLAS NG MGA BATA, EH ANO PA BANG MAGAGAWA KO DUN?
Alé: “BASTA KAHIT SANDAAN PA ANG IBIGAY KO SAYO, WAG KA LANG MANLOLOKO NG TAO!!!

Whatever. They were still at it when I got off. [tha alé diden git off @ ma stop afterall, therefore I diden save tha alé tha effort of havin’ to ask his archenemy to let her git off] Wud manong have bursted a vein had I insisted in gettin’ ma 50cents back? ;-)

Grown-ups are stringy, fire-breathin, serious, prim & proper, gossipy, and prone to share tha most embarrassing stories ‘bout their kids. Yesterday, at ma highschool pal Estabita’s [whose actual name is Elaine Estabillo but whom I call Estabita fo’ fun] gathering fo’ her kid’s 3rd birthday, I realized that I would be perceiv’d as tha friend of some person’s mother. And in that light, I am partly responsible fo’ moulding a kid’s stereo-typing abilities on wut grown-ups are [fire-breathin, serious, prim & proper, etc.] based on how I act that night. And me & Lorrie, tha grown-ups who stayd fo’ tha longest time weren’t bein very “grown-up” at all.

In fact, I can already imagine the queschns in Azalea Maiden Lei’s prettly li’l shaolin head w/c shell prolly spring on ma gewd pal, Estabita:

Ma, do grown-ups really…
squeal at the slightest provocation?
shove each other so hard, one almost connected wit tha floor?
play “Ito ang beat”, Chicky Chicky Bab, & Crossmeloshake?
find fun in swatting, slapping and pinching each other?
argue over larger portions of cake?
love plucking sugar roses from birthday cakes?
play with balloons and ask to take one home wit em?

We stopp’d horsing around long enuf to stare at mother & child as Maiden stopp’d working on her coloring book to run in tha arms of her maver and kiss her 6-month preggy mum.
Wistful ME: “Awww…”
Equally Wistful Lorrie: “Tara, gawa na rin tayo anak!”

Anotha fave moment:
Maiden sayin “ice cream..!” in a sing-songy way while happily coloring beyond tha lines of an orange ice cream in her coloring book usin’ tha new Powerpuff crayons her beautiful Tita 5h1n3 gave her.

In one of ma "pagpapanggap" dayz @ tha O., came across tis one by Adrienne Rich while pretendin to be busy while browsin each file in ma office pc...

From An Atlas Of The Difficult World

I know you are reading this poem
late, before leaving your office
of the one intense yellow lamp-spot and the darkening window
in the lassitude of a building faded to quiet
long after rush-hour. I know you are reading this poem
standing up in a bookstore far from the ocean
on a grey day of early spring, faint flakes driven
across the plains' enormous spaces around you.
I know you are reading this poem
in a room where too much has happened for you to bear
where the bedclothes lie in stagnant coils on the bed
and the open valise speaks of flight
but you cannot leave yet. I know you are reading this poem
as the underground train loses momentum and before runningup the stairs
toward a new kind of love
your life has never allowed.
I know you are reading this poem by the light
of the television screen where soundless images jerk and slide
while you wait for the newscast from the intifada.
I know you are reading this poem in a waiting-room
of eyes met and unmeeting, of identity with strangers.
I know you are reading this poem by fluorescent light
in the boredom and fatigue of the young who are counted out,
count themselves out, at too early an age. I know
you are reading this poem through your failing sight, the thick
lens enlarging these letters beyond all meaning yet you read on
because even the alphabet is precious.
I know you are reading this poem as you pace beside the stove
warming milk, a crying child on your shoulder, a book in your hand
because life is short and you too are thirsty.
I know you are reading this poem which is not in your language
guessing at some words while others keep you reading
and I want to know which words they are.
I know you are reading this poem listening for something, tornbetween bitterness and hope
turning back once again to the task you cannot refuse.
I know you are reading this poem because there is nothing else left to read
there where you have landed, stripped as you are.

smirk daw o!!!


You're the smirk,a frown-smile hybrid that's a
little bit cocky and usually associated with
evil or arrogant,but attractive people.You
probably just don't give a damn,but it's
everyone else's fault if you don't because
you're too awesome to have any real faults.


What Kind of Smile are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

There's always so much month left at the end of the money.

Ma digital school ID still works.

Yesterday, I stray’d from tha right streets, soakd, nearly got hit by a car, & got hit on by Burger King personnel in ma need to see ma college alma mater again whom I dearly miss’d. Met wit Felice ‘Rosebud Ong’ Tejuco a.k.a. Bogart fo’ coffee & pasta @ our fave P. Noval café. We both had grand plans of movie-ing and diploma, annual& alumni card inquirin’ but settled in juz gettin our caffeine fix ‘sted since that alone took alota cloth-drenchin’ & murky floodwater soilin on our toes. As if ma alma mater really has to display its famous baha component on tha day I came there, of all days. Office was also clos’d fo’ tha day but incessant need to pee made us run to tha Main Bldg & when I tried swipin ma ID on tha computer @ tha building’s entrance, ‘Kwang!’ [tha sound it emits], it still works! Ma face appeard on tha screen [Manong sed how come I was pretty in tha ID] along wit ma course ‘sted of tha empty space I was expectin it’ll show. To make up fo’ getting soak’d so much & yet not bein able to achieve much that day, I bought Mikirons @ tha Baker’s Fair branch I discover’d where I got off @ Quiapo. Mikiron’s ma latest fave tsitsiria which tastes juz like Krunchies, which I used to buy @ a food shop named Smiley’s @ ma highschool alma mater. And speakin of nostalgic fewd of childhood, I wud really love tha person who cud provide me wit those milk candies call’d ‘Egg tablets’ or sumthin enclosed in mini white plastic bags that are sold at 1.50 each when I was in elementary. Been searchin fo’ em but no luck. And I’d also love those colorful dots of candies in a long thin transparent container wit a wheel @ tha end. And Tiptops that are local peanut M&M’s that come wit fake gold rings. And tha round candy wit a hole @ tha center where you can whistle -white on one side, peach-color’d @ tha otha. But I don’t like Fres, tha li’l green round candies. Among tha tsitsirias I miss those wit plastic freebies &which don’t feel like it has added any weight to tha tummy wen ya eat em: Chickadees, Chizels, etc.

As havin ma hair hack’d off in our neighborhood fo’ 60 bucks a month ago resulted in flyaways every morn fo’ me [& I NEVER have flyaways] due to irregularity of lengths [back’s a bit long & left sida hair’s shorter than tha right], I had ma hair hack’d off again @ Fix salon tis time, as recommended by Angel & tha boy Toy. [it took me a month to realize sumthin’s wrong wit ma hair] Right away, I notic’d tha salon’s differences from David’s, ma former suki before ma fave hairdresser got too ‘spensive fo’ me. First off is tha hairdresser’s fee. Where David’s charge a higher fee fo’ senior stylists, Fix charge tha same fee fo’ all seven of their hairstylists wit all of em carryin’ tha same “senior stylist” title. Second is tha shampoo & blow-dry personnel. At David’s, ladies are assign’d to man tha task of shampooin’ & blowdryin’. At Fix, a guy shampooed & blowdried ma hair which was fine wit me ‘cept he kept takin hold of ma ears as if makin sho’ one ain’t comin off durin tha shampoo. I also notic’d that unlike @ David’s where tha sink is connected to tha wall, tha sinks @ Fix are rightly arrang’d so it ain’t leanin on walls. Tis is much better since tha shampooer can go behind tha sink to do tha customer’s hair & not have any part of his body obstruct/invade tha shampoee’s personal space whereas tha shampooers @ David’s have no choice but be right next to ya facin ya wit their armpits directly on top of yer face so they can reach yer head & shampoo you right. [makin me think that they hafta do some b.o. screening before they hire tha shampooers]
***
And speakin of b.o., I juz found out that bein non-judgmental has it faults. Goin home that day, I boarded a bus and as I wanna seat near tha front, I plopp’d down @ tha first semi-empty seat I could see which was in a three-seater next to a bald but otherwise hairy man in yellow. Tha man, who was ‘bout in his forties has a sharp look ‘bout him often seen in men merchandisin’ DVD’s which made me think he’s from Mindanao. [sowee fo’ tha political incorrectness!] I diden mind tho’ even if I was also thinkin how come no one else who boarded ahead thought of sittin next to him. A few moments later I found out. Tha man was fail’d by his deodorant. By then, an ale had seated next to me hence makin me inch closer to ‘manong DVD’. Therefore, I had to think ways in which ‘manong DVD’ won’t be able to blast away ma sinuses so much. When tha realization first hit ma nose, tha first thang I did was to lift ma left shoulder slightly so twasn’t next to M.D.’s right one anymore. [shud tha smell stick to me, wut then?] Then through various head tiltings, I tried findin’ tha right angle where fresh air may pass ma nasal passage. There was a time I found it [bing-o!] and I was quite honestly surprised to find it so that I look’d left @ M.D., sniff’d hesitantly, found tha air to still be untainted, then look’d doubtfully @ tha misis on ma right. Could it be tha ale was really tha nasal passage-offender? Tha smell return’d not long after, tho’ & after many subtle left & right head swings, I re-affirm’d that ma nose was right tha first time. Twas indeed manong DVD on ma left. And then I wonder’d if I cud take out ma hanky & cover ma nose witout offendin him but he duzen look too tolerant wit such actions so I refrain’d. Wut I did was content ma’self wit keepin’ ma left arm forward & lean’d more to tha right towards tha ale & juz pray’d manong’d git off soon. Wen he diden, I tried lookin’ round fo’ empty seats to transfer to but tha bus got fuller by tha mo’. Finally, he unloaded @ Centerpoint, which was two stops away from where am gettin off.
***

Ma bro & I haven’t fought fo’ ages. It used to be not a day wud pass when we’d grab @ tha chance to pummel each otha & wreck each otha’s stuff. Bein tha small waif I am to his 5’11 frame & not thinking of backing away as an option, I’d usually end up as tha more bruis’d sibling. Oddly enuf, I’ll also end up calmer & less piss’d than tha irritable kuya. Since those days are gone, I thought I cud manage a day wit him & tag’d along Saturday wen he was goin’ out. On our trip to Quiapo, both of us were normal & let each otha buy & see wut tha other wanted. He bought pirated CDs, identity bracelets fo’ him & his gurl, silver watches for his gurl & ma mum [he ask’d me if I wanted one too as an afterthought but I refused] and I bought a yellow Jelly Kelly watch, a silver & gold bangle & zipper earrings. Then we were off to Mega Mall. We were supos’d to go home early that day since Paver wanted us to buy pansit & came home before birthday gurl Maver leaves fo’ church but since it took 40 years fo tha letters of tha names in bro’s bracelets to be completed, we were runnin late. So wen we arriv’d, bro juz ask’d to meet me @ tha store I was ‘bout to buy stuff in while he went his own way to buy tha food as well. Well, I headed straight fo’ tha store we agreed to meet in & thirty minutes into tha store, he was already bombardin’ me wit psycho calls & txt messages on ma phone. “Asan ka na? Nakabili na ko ng pagkain”, was tha first message. But before I was even thru reading it, he was already callin me on ma phone which seem’d to be havin tha same defect ma phone had weeks before coz he can’t seem to hear me tho’ I was practically shoutin ma exact location @ him. Hence, another message: “Putsa! Tatanga-tanga ka naman! Uuwi na nga eh! Ano ba?” And then a series of calls punctuated by growls from ma psychotic bro @ tha otha end of tha line ensued [in w/c he still can’t hear me & hes thinking am not speakin on purpose] Judgin from tha elevatin’ quality of urgency & lividness in ma bro’s voice, it diden surprise me wen havin located me finally, he clamp’d an iron hand on ma fist & madly dragg’d me outa tha line towards tha exit so that he caus’d ma shades & ma new Jelly Kelly watch to toss away [taking minutes to find] & elicited gawks from strangers. And so I diden git to buy anythang @ Mega Mall becuz of lack of time & yet wen we passd tha foodcourt on our way out, bro –sorta like tryin to make it up to me- suddenly ask’d me if I wanted anythang to eat on tha way home. [I juz frown’d & said “Hindi na!” all angry-lookin’ & wounded pride] But since he insisted [“Dali na nga!”] & I was honestly famished, I headed @ tha first store @ tha bukana [which was a Nestle ice cream stall] & told tha guy behind tha counter I wanted a parfait. [I was still kinda mad so I chose an expensive dessert] But findin’ out tha price on tha list, bro told me he won’t be payin & I shud pay it ma’self since I order’d it. We ended up not buyin anythang & juz headed home but I felt I miss’d on compensation I realized I shud rightfully have fo’ gettin’ embarrass’d in fronta peepz so I kept ma eyes open fo’ food chains on tha way & finally pointed out A&W and declared “I’ll have coney fries instead” to ma tyrannical bro. He relented & bought a root beer float too. Both tha drink & fries were gone even before we hail’d an FX.

Funny how tha act of sumone takin out his mobile in tha jeep alwez influence me to do tha same, as if tha fact that he/she has a phone is enuf assurance that he/she won't try to take ma phone.

Most people survive by tha amounts of selfishness they have & how much of it they make others feel. People, more than they know it, are usually owned by otha peepz. Sumtyms ya juz back off automatically from a potential friendship becuz you can see that invisible label of ownership tha peepz who own’d em plac’d on em & ya back off fo’ tha similar reason that ya wana completely own em & not juz some part w/c that person’s owner fail’d to fill. Tis same selfishness is also wut keeps us from denyin’ that a part of us is still own’d by sum1 else so that other peepz will have no qualms ‘bout givin’ themselves to us.

Wut went right & wrong @ ma overnight outing to Bataan:

-: Companions diden show up on time so p.i.c. & I hafta go & take tha 6:30 ferry ride by our whole lonesome.
+: Gewd thang we diden git lost thanks to tha locals who gave us tha right directions & thanks to p.i.c.’s reliable memory wc absorb’d all directions like a sponge.
-: We got charg’d 50 bucks tho’ fo’ our short tricycle ride in exchange fo’ tha directions given.
-: I forgot to bring shades & slippers.
+: I got a kehwl pair o’ white shades & purple slippers fo’ P60 & P20 respectively @ tha Balanga market.
-: Tha inn we stay’d in wc was divided into 4 small units, painted powder blue, &had steel bars for gates look’d like vaults spesh wit names on its front. Ours was “JM”.
+: Since we got there first, p.i.c. & I got first dibs on tha four beds to choose from. [We chose tha two nearest to tha electric fan]
-: We found out that our sink faucet was missin’ its handle & tha loo missin its lock.
+: T’was all s’pos’d to be cheap @ 750 fo’ all 6 of us.
-: Wen we were @ tha beach, a gewd-lookin’ boater Nat call’d tha “bangkerong kolboy” conn’d us into ridin his boat wit promises of takin us to tha cave, corals & otha scenic spots fo’ only 200 for tha two of us & 300 wen fo’ two more friends who join’d us later. But wen we reach’s tha middle of tha sea wit tha motor creatin’ much noise so t’was hard fo’ us to make conversation & everythang, he took advantage by askin if t’was a’ite to shell out a hundred more so he can take us to tha scenic spots. Wut hpen’d was we got off his boat witout seein’ anything & paid him 200.
+: A local who resembled Rene Requiestas eagerly took me & p.i.c. to all tha photo-op worthy spots in tha resort. He even got tha keys to tha treehouse & otha places w/c weren’t open to tha public yet juz so we cud take pictures. And he diden even charge a thang –juz smiled at us excitedly as he beckon’d us to follow him to more hidden spots of interest.
-: Ma ancient swimsuit wc I thought still fit since I rarely used it, felt like t’was stranglin me wen I wore it more so wen I juz ate a full meal & fo’ a while, I thought itll give up all together in strugglin’ to keep me in & burst @ tha seams.
+: Had fun competin wit Nat & Zha fo’ tha “most wrinkled hands” category, searchin’ fo’ “toasted” kids, watchin p.i.c. do forward rolls again & again in tha water, discussin’ politics, movies & thangs wit tha three of em, & listenin’ to Ana’s quips bout her pregnancy.
-: By Sunday noon, ma head was suddenly spinnin’ & tummy & limbs hurt & suddenly I was hurlin all over & carryin’ on like a sick child & actin’ embarrassingly & more pregnant than our 6-month old pregnant companion who wasn’t makin any fuss at all & diden hafta be tended to unlike brilliant moi.
+: Gewd thang p.i.c. carried ma bag & gave me headache & excretory pills & bought me food & ticket wen I cant walk & was bein generally naiz to me tho’ I diden allow her to sleep on our way to tha place by talkin’ her ear off.

Spiders plan room dominion
There is a profusion of weird bumps on ma head… it hurts & feels like little zits but I’ve no idea where it really came from. I have a theory, though. Theory is that they are spider bites. There are a lot of em lately in ma bed –those spiders wit wispy legs. And me as a live & let live creature compassionate to all living things [‘cept to ‘roaches] simply cant bring ma’self to squash tha poor thangs & deprive em of life they have tha right to live. Wut I do wen they pass me by while im in bed is catch em in ma hand then open it & let em go on ma bedroom floor. Long as they’re not on tha bed wit me, I don’t mind em one bit. Besides they prevent mosquito bites by eatin mosquitoes. Only now I am infested wit spider bites. So now there’s prolly an army of em in ma bedroom.

Suddenly, I had a strange suspicion that ma 6210 mobile can’t transmit sounds to tha person @ tha other end of tha line, & so to know whether twas ma phone or tha person @ tha other end of tha line who’s really defective, I got ma bro to participate & call’d him on his mobile.
Me: “Hello? Ano, naririnig mo ba?”
Bro: “Oo, naririnig kita.”
Me: “Hindi nga, ano?”
Bro: “Oo nga eh!”
Me: “Eh panong di mo ‘ko maririnig eh nasa kabila ka lang? Lumayo ka naman!
Bro: [laughing]

Decidin’ twas pointless to have him participate seriously, I decided to call Globe Customer Service instead.
Me [after numerous punchin’ of numbers w/c finlly led to tha O]: “Hello?”
Operator: “How may I help you?”
Me: “Ah kasi, may problema cell ko, ang problema… [suddenly rememberin’] HINDI AKO NARIRINIG NG KAUSAP KO!”
Operator: “Yes, ano pong problem nila?”
Me: KASI NGA HINDI AKO MARINIG NG KAUSAP KO… YUN ANG PROBLEMA… NARIRINIG MO BA AKO? HELLOOOO..?? LALAKASAN KO PA BA?
Operator: “Yes, ma’am, naririnig ko po kayo, pwede nyo na pong hinaan ang boses nyo.

In ma head, when I’m feelin’ dire & I feel that mortals frustrate me, I talk to him before I sleep. He is he. Not that he is nice. I shout @ him & I’m usually mad @ him. Tho’ he isn’t responsible fo’ wutevr shitty stuff am in, I blame him juz tha same. I’d like to believe that I’ve taken things in stride… an ex best friend shruggin me &ma need to talk away, anotha one leavin tha country w/o tellin’ me, ma inability to defend ma’self if life depended on it, & many otha thangs... but I find that juz a slight tardiness from him & immediately, I’ll fault him witout consideration. I blame him fo’ not bein’ here yet whoevr he is.

Guest post by Rowan Velonta:

tulog


Sumama na yata sa dugo ko ang gatas na ininom ko
kanina
ngunit hanggang ngayo'y di pa rin ako dalawin ng
antok
kahit anong lamig pa ang dala ng gabi. Bakit ikaw,
itinumba mo ang matapang na kape, pero hayan
at malayang namamaluktot, yakap ang matigas na unan.
Pinapanood kita sa yong pagbiling-biling sa nilamutak
na kutson.
at sa lumalalim mong pagtulog habang hinuhukay ko
mag-isa
ang gabing iyon, nabibingi rin ako sa hagok ng iyong
paghilik -
hudyat na nagtagumpay ka na naman at narating ang mga
panaginip.
Mag-isa ka na namang nakapaglakbay
sa mga pangarap na dapat tayong dalawa ang aabot.
Nangako naman akong sasamahan kita kahit saan ngunit
bakit
hanggang sa panaginip di mo ako kayang pagtiwalaan.
Iniwan mo na naman akong nakatunganga't naghihintay
sa pagbabalik ng yong ulirat, nag-aabang na sana'y
bigla kang
maalimpungatan at makita mong gising pa pala ako sa
tabi mo
at tila kuwagong nakamasid sa 'yong paghimlay.
Naghihintay
na kahit pakunwari, kahit pasinghal pa, kahit walang
anomang
lambing sabihin mo sa akin: tulog na tayo.

Instructions:
A. Copy this whole list.
B. Highlight the things that are true about you.
C. Whatever you don't touch is false.

01. When I was younger I made some bad decision -like failin’ to punch those who annoy me! ;-p
02. I don't watch much TV these days -I am TV/movie illiterate!
03. I love psychedelic mushrooms
04. I love sleeping -but sleepin' duzen luv me
05. I have loads of books -that I hate to lend! ;-p
06. I once slept in a bathroom
07. I love playing video games
08. I adore marijuana
09. I watch porn movies –hw bout tis: we were once made to watch a porn movie in theology class!
10. I watch them with my father
11. I like sharksfin dumplings!
12. I love spiders, I think they're adorable, especially the ones with bright colours on their backs
13. I was born without hair and I still have no hair
14. I like George Bush
15. I am cool -and I rule! ;-p
16. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year -I’m now more in touch wit ma schizo side!
17. I have a jacuzzi and a Porsche -[mebbe in ma past life?]
18. I have a lot to learn
19. I carry my smuggl’d swiss knife everywhere –until I accidently wounded ma’self twice!
20. I can be really really smart –but can also be really really thick!
21. I've never broken someone's bones
22. I have a secret
23. I hate snow
25. Punk rock rules –as well as altern rock!26. I hate Bill Gates!
27. I love Chinese food
28. I would hate to be famous
29. I am so not a morning person
30. I wear glasses
31. I don't need glasses, except sunglasses
32. I have potential –meaning I am lazy! haha!
33. I'm pure Japanese
34. My legs are two different sizes –it’s weird but ma right leg has alwez been a bit skinnier!
35. I have a twin cuzins & uncles and am xpectin’ to have twins sumday 2!
36. I wear a padded bra sometimes
37. I can ramble on about absolutely nothing
38. I'm left-handed
39. I hate llamas, but I'm one of them –say wut?
40. I don't like horror movies
41. I suck at climbing, but I love it anyway
42. People hate me usually –an understandable reaction to a goddess.
43. I love pop music
44. I hardly ever go to bed before midnight
45. I hate parking fines
46. I know the national anthem of my country by heart
47. I know more than two languages
48. I can spend too much time on the computer
49. I often want to throw out the computer in a window at a person!
50. I live on a ground floor
51. I don't like chocolate
52. I'd like to be more original –orig to! D aco pirated! ;-p
53. I've lied –only about 10 times in ma whole life!
54. Cocks are my favorite birds
55. I want to conquer the world
56. I wonder what happens when I die
57. I've read all books about Harry Potter –haven’t read tha last one!
58. I love my dog! –I loved ma cat! May he r. i. p.!
59. I love to exercise
60. I hate chemistry with a passion and math, too!
61. I love to write but I wish I could be as interesting as some people
62. I like changes
63. I hate going to class
64. I am afraid to die
65. I hate dish washing with a passion!
66. My hair is long, brown, and incredibly curly
67. My nails are nine inch long
68. My favorite color is black
69. I like to sleep on the floor
70. I am hopeless at cooking
71. I sucked my thumb when I was little
72. I should be doing something else rather than doing this –absolutely!
73. I am online a lot
74. I hate government
75. I don't have a girlfriend/boyfriend
76. I'm too nice for my own good –I cud be such a doormat sometimes!
77. I love to read, I read as much as I can
78. I don't trust newspapers
79. I like debating
80. I live in a wagon
81. I clean my room once a month –that’s bcuz it’s alwez clean… not! Haha!
82. I'm scared of american fast food
83. I have a third eye
84. I love Mozambique
85. I don't trust any religion
86. I used to play with barbies only because all the other girls were doing it
87. I wanted to be a super hero when I was little –I wanted to be kusinera when I was li’l!
88. I like listening to wind chimes –flowin’ water!
89. I'm very disorganized
90. My hair is long and straight
91. I earn a lot
92. I don't like spicy food
93. I keep a diary
94. I can't do cartwheels –but I can lie on ma front & arch ma back to make tha soles of ma feet & tha top o’ ma head meet!
95. I can be very lazy
96. I'm sarcastic more often than not
97. I think my hair can be annoying
98. I could be sensitive –extremely!
99. I love being "ab-normal" –better than to be boring & ordinary like evry’un else!

I wuz countin’…
1] when witout me askin’, you pick’d up scraps of paper I’ve litter’d all over ma area & even help’d me remove tha old caps wen you saw I was in a frenzy tapin’ captions on tha backs of photos w/c tha boss needed immediately.
2] when ya ask’d me if I was ‘biyahilo’ before we ventur’d out in a van to Tagaytay even tho’ I was sorta annoy’d too coz ya made me feel like a kid [again].
3] when you were worried I can’t carry tha press folders by ma’self to an event & talk’d to Mob to let ya go wit me [w/c u ended up attendin' 'stead of me].
4] when you humor’d me by drinkin’ tha rest of ma third shot of tequila I ask’d you to finish fo’ me.
5] everytime ye ask me if I’m okay when I’m toxic & everytime ya give words of reassurance.
6] when ya gave me yer whole bag o’ fries wen I had no food.
7] when ya gave me a discount card ya prolly gave all tha others too. [but f’kors tha one you gave me had been tha most appreciated!]
8] everytime ya gimme gum.
9] ya offer’d to treat me.
10] when you’re juz there @ yer desk wit yer back facin ma side so that ya block tha boss’ vision of me from his desk. [tho’ ya can’t help circumstance].

…ya make me feel tha empty space beside me wen ya git up to check email or use tha pc even if you’re juz goin’ 8 steps away, makin me wish that tha phone beside me wud ring & it’d be for ya so I can cheerfully call ya back to yer desk to have that feelin’ of empty space removed even if we don’t talk much... you are soooo nice & I wna do nice thangs for ya & kick hard on tha face those clients who were meany-mo to ya

...and I like ya.

but I’m “safe” and u’re “safer”, and so for all those times you were ma office hero but I diden show any signs of life, I juz wna say here that hey, I appreciate ya!

Lost in frustration over Lost In Translation

Since I read ‘bout her once in a Vogue magazine, I’ve been anticipatin to watch one of her films. But Sophia Coppola had juz disappointed me. Her most recent award-winning & award-nominating film is ‘bout two American characters in Tokyo –one who is an old actor & tha other a young devoted Yalie wife- who were prolly tha recipients of tha title ‘lost in translation’. How about usin tha adjectives clueless and prissily enduring instead? So both Americans were lonely. One sits around in her panty all tha time waitin fo’ her husband while tha other one has no friends & practices golf in his hotel room fo’ leisure. Tha lady’s preference fo’ pink signifies shez romantic & that she prolly loves her husband more than he does she. So wut? There are prolly a lot more symbolisms which I diden get because of too much subtlety or sumthin! But can I help it if I hate subtlety? I hate subtlety or people who whisper in front of ya, fo’ that matter, same as those who pretend to say sumthin to another when really they be aimin atcha wit God knows fo’ wutevr purpose! And lastly peepz who start to say sumthin to yer face then change their minds & juz tell ya to forget ‘bout it leavin ya to think wit thoughts ‘bout yerself even worse than wutevr unspillable crap they had in mind. I like thangs to be said upfront. Either I’m dense or else I like people to be tactless like me, tho’ sumtyms I do git credited [spesh by sean] fo’ bein paranoid or extremely sensitive & emo[ma schizo half anyway]. Anyway, goin back to tha film, tha two lonely Americans, all platonic till tha end, ends tha film wit a triumphant smack on tha lips before walkin’ away to diff’rent directions, wit an invisible caption that wud’ve read “Now that they’ve kiss’d, they’re ready to face tha world.” And so that’s it. And I can’t pretend to like it albeit tha awards. I don’t.

I never believe in platonic friendship between best friends of tha opposite sex. One or possibly both of em's usually in luv wit tha other. Usually tha one who first insisted in labellin' each otha best friends is tha fallen one and tha one who juz goes along wit tha bestfriend thang tho' he/she duzen care much bout labels is tha unfallen. Tha only thang stoppin' tha un-fallen friend from fallin fo' his/her lovelorn best friend is tha realization that tha fallen is not perfect and that small ounce of imperfection is wut holds him/her back -tha absolute little thang that tha unfallen thinks his/her ideal gurl/guy shud have but his/her best friend duzen have [like looks, a brotherly or sisterly quality, an irritatin? habit] while tha slightly flaw'd other juz goes on dumbly adorin' tha unfallen's perfection.
***
Fo’ 2 days, I was outta home in Tagaytay wit ma office mates organizin an invitational golf event fo’ a bank’s clients. Tha 5 of us includin’ moi, Kelmer, Janel, Raul, & a 70-year-old recreational organizer tha boss hired [Mob was busy barkin’ orders & Eypi was busy wit his ear glued to his mobile smoothin’ out everythan wit clients] were tha epitome of factory workers—We cramm’d in an unventilated storage room and unloaded more than a hundred golf bags from their plastic bags & box, placed more than a hundred box o’ golf balls, caps, & box o’ wooden tees inside & then closed em again. We got involv’d in draggin’ down those bags from upstairs & placin em @ tha registration stalls. We then watch’d over em till registration & teein off time’s up so that no 1’d help themselves to them gorgeous Nike bags wit gorgeous freebies inside since registration area wasn’t in a closed area but where people pass by. We also arrang’d tha raffle prizes & trophies & brought em to tha highlands & guarded over em so no1’d touch em & tha wind won’t blow em o’er before dinner –which is hours away- begins. Some of us went down to tha hole or tha golfin area [or wutever] to make sure that tha photographer takes picture of each player & that he gets each one’s names right. [Guess who weasel’d her way outta it & escaped gettin severely dark by evadin’ tha sun’s wrath?] Sumwer in tha middle of tha second day, every’un else was gone & I found ma’self sittin’ next to Sir John [tha heptagenarian] on opposite ends of tha same bench starin at tha plants in front of us. I stared at tha space between us on tha chair & mused on tha space between our ages & why because of it and some other reason perhaps, we were not talkin’ despite bein bored both… then I look’d @ him & made sure he wasn’t dozin’ off like he was earlier then I closed in on tha space and engag’d him in a conversation about… tha Japanese period. After that we sail’d on to otha topics like Raul’s lack of interest in tha job & how tha dollar and tha peso us’d to have tha same value, etc.
***
Later at tha Country club where we were manning tha registration booth fo’ tha golfers’ cocktails, rich Chinese granddads came to plague tha place. One slit-eyed lolo simply wuden go home witout exchangin’ his lucky raffle draw prize of leather luggage tag fo’ nuthin less than tha last of tha Ashworth golf bags w/ wheels. [bet he was eyein tha bags tha whole time & cuden resist but approach when he saw only one left] Another one hit on me. [“I take you home! Hahaha!”] Another tripp’d as he got his prize. Another one look’d like Mark Jimenez. Another was really Henry Sy. At tha end of tha day, Mob had splotches of sunburn everywhere, Pol smuggled a Tiffany mug that’s suppos’d to be raffled off to tha golfers, Sumone from tha office had ma heart and I took home a bottle of red wine from tha bar [& a golf kit raffle draw prize & hotel slippers]

I used to drink everythang in tha first time I realized that Mob hired me & that I wud be ridin’ tha jeep regularly to work. Enuf wit boring everyday ridin’ to skewl & elsewhere wit Raffy, our ikot-happy driver who luuvs takin tha most bizaare and farthest routes & eskinitas. Wit Raffy outta tha picture, I ain’t getting rides anywhere in a car nymore. Tha first few months, no one & nuthin is safe from ma wicked once-overs. Whereas ma sole object of criticism us’d to be tha balding spot of Raffy’s backhead, now I have more targets of ammunition and more fun. I start wit tha person across from me. Notice his greasy bowl-cut hair. Notice his complexion. Notice his companion & tha general attitude in life ive already stereotyped him in wit juz one glance at his blah expression. Then I move on to the person next to him, then through tha whole row before movin’ on to tha people seated on ma side. When I’m done, I move on to tha people we pass along in their abodes… tha naggin’ lady on tha street who is screamin sumthin nasty @ her dirty child, tha endless rows of travel agencies in Malate, tha sign which reads “Parking reserved for May Sun Rest. Customers” which alwez got me thinking of “restroom” or “rest in peace” rather than its real meaning w/c is “restaurant”, tha roamin’ mummy-like lolo near Manila Zoo whose daily routine is to approach jeepney passengers thru tha windows, tap em, then extend his palm moanin’ “aaaa… aaaaa…”, tha cold dusty impersonal smell of cement in sites we pass by that are under construction. And all of em ugly or otherwise used to make me happy. Now I must be gettin’ used to it coz I don’t remember every’un in tha jeep anymore & will only throw a considerin’ look to a person across from me if he or shes a bit unusual like if he has weird nose or sumthin. Or if I can’t figure out if he or she is a gurl or a guy. Like tha one across today. I suspect shes a butch but cant be sho’. Gurl at his/her right got her arms linked thru his/her’s & they all lovey-dovey and I look at tha she-guy hard to figure out her gender. She [a gurl at final inspection] and her gurlfriend threw back a stare @ me. As tha butch duzen seem to any hint of curve up there, I really thought she was a guy then I got to thinkin’ mebbe that’s how butches become butches. They start out embarrass’d @ their lack of curves then they start dressin’ all macho & manly to go wit their man-like bodies then they became serious ‘bout bein’ butches & get themselves gurlies like tis one in front o’ me. Then wit tis last thought, I don’t pay attention to em anymore & I start to complain to paver bout sumthin. And paver in total conformity wit ma problem and happy he duzen hafta worry about escortin me to & from events juz sits there unsympathetically and tells me almost cheerfully that ‘that’s juz tha way it is’ and tha carton of nacho chips I was holdin between ma hands suddenly flew in his direction and paver threw me a ‘tsk’ & a look of evil disapproval, thinking I did it deliberately but I did not & I look at him wit an equally mean look on ma face & then hes askin me to pick it up but I diden coz its way beyond reach & I was poutin & prolly lookin’ more evil by tha mo’ then I saw tha man-gurl across suddenly reachin’ out her hand to tha right to grip tha handle bar at tha end of tha jeep but she look’d like shes shieldin her gurl or sumthin prolly from ma evil looks. And I paid em no heed & go on sulkin then I remember’d tha 33-year-old new trainee Mob hired who duzen have an email account & how I taught him, even YM & he was chattin wit a gurl friend he eagerly call’d soon as we made his new account then how I tried teachin him how to ‘BUZZ’ but tha keyboard duzen seem to function so I tried typin random keys & end up typin “PP” then his gurl chatm8 askd sumthin but I was still too engross’d on why tha ‘BUZZ’ ain’t workin so I wasn’t reading when I typed randomly again & tis time typ’d “K” so it seemd tha guy said ok to tha gurl’s queschn w/c was really stupid coz tha queschn wasn’t answerable by ok & then I chose the pink Hello Kitty ImVironment 4 him & twas really hilarious coz he hates it & I was rememberin all tis when I snorted out a laugh in tha jeep & imagine a mean-lookin ready-to-strike-yer-eyes-out person suddenly laughin & tha gay couple’s prolly thinkin’ “psycho” & then more laughter fo’ me, & tha man-gurl grippin tha handlebars tighter. Then 3 rowdy dirty street kids about 7 years o’ age suddenly fasten’d themselves to tha end of tha jeep & tha gay couple immediately turn’d their eyes on me prolly wantin’ to see how tha “psycho-gurl” across reacts to bratty, dirty, potentially pickpocketing pack of kids but I diden wince, frown or scoot away from em as far as possible. I juz watch’d em & sympathized wit em when tha driver won’t let em get off even as tha kid had meekly ask’d to git off more than twice.

Two weird messages from two strange people in Friendster both written on the same day [02/16]:

1] from someone named Fa:
How are you today? Today is a really sunny day,
and I just happen to run into your profile, and I
was thinking sunshine, what a name. I see you
love to bake, and a lot of other things. I really
don't know what to say, it's like telemarketing.
Well if you want to connect give me a ring.
[and then she diden leave a number!]

2] from someone named John:
HI..I am american guy looking for a gf. I am 39
but I have never been married and I have no kids.
I am dreaming about a filipna wife. Please look
at my pic and write to me...I would love to get
to know you..your are beautiful...
[creepy!]

Quote for the day comes from a male friend whom I invited to today's Close-Up Lova palooza contest wit me. He said:
"Kaw na lan. Busy paco eh!"
Lolz!

a Valentine post...

Written on the body
by Jeanette Winterson

Why is the measure of love loss?

I am thinking of a certain September: Wood pigeon Red Admiral Yellow Harvest Orange Night. You said, "I love you." Why is it that the most unoriginal thing we can say to one another is still the thing we long to hear? "I love you" is always a quotation. You did not say it first and neither did I, yet when you say it and when I say it we speak like savages who have found three words and worship them. I did worship them but now I am alone on a rock hewn out of my own body.


CALIBAN
You taught me language and my profit on't is I know how to curse. The red plague rid you For learning me your language.
Love demands expression. It will not stay still, stay silent, be good, be modest, be seen and not heard, no. It will break out in tongues of praise, the high note that smashes the glass and spills the liquid. It is no conservationist love. It is a big game hunter and you are the game. A curse on this game. How can you stick at a game when the rules keep changing? I shall call myself Alice and play crocket with the flamingoes. In Wonderland everyone cheats and love is Wonderland isn't it? Love makes the world go round. Love is blind. All you need is love. Nobody ever died of a broken heart. You'll get over it. It'll be different when we're married. Think of the children. Time's a great healer. Still waiting for Mr. Right? Miss Right? and maybe all the little Rights?

It's the clichés that cause the trouble. A precise emotion seeks a precise expression. If what I feel is not precise then would I call it love? It is so terrifying, love, that all I can do is shove it under a dump bin of pink cuddly toys and send myself a greetings card saying `Congratulations on your Engagement'. But I am not engaged I am deeply distracted. I am desperately looking the other way so that love won't see me. I want the diluted version, the sloppy language, the insignificant gestures. The saggy armchair of clichés. It's all right, millions of bottoms have sat here before me. The springs are well worn, the fabric smelly and familiar. I don't have to be frightened, look, my grandma and grandad did it, he in stiff collar and club tie, she in white muslin straining a little at the life beneath. They did it, my parents did it, now I will do it won't I, arms outstretched, not to hold you, just to keep my balance, sleepwalking to that armchair. How happy we will be. How happy everyone will be. And they all lived happily ever after.

We lay on our bed in the rented room and I fed you plums the color of bruises. Nature is fecund but fickle. One year, she leaves you to starve, the next year, she kills you with love. That year the branches were torn beneath the weight, this year they sing in the wind. There are no ripe plums in August. Have I got it wrong, this hesitant chronology? Perhaps I should call it Emma Bovary's eyes or Jane Eyre's dress. I don't know. I'm in another rented room now trying to find the place to go back to where things went wrong. Where I went wrong. You were driving but I was lost in my own navigation.

Nevertheless I will push on. There were plums and I broke them over you.
You said,'Why do I frighten you?'
Frighten me? Yes you do frighten me. You act as though there is infinite pleasure and time without end. How can I know that? My experience has been that time always ends. In theory you are right, the quantum physicists are right. Time without end. In practice we both wear a watch. If I rush at this relationship it's because I fear for it. I fear you have a door I cannot see and that any minute now the door will open and you'll be gone. Then what? Then what as I bang the walls like the Inquisition searching for a saint? Where will I find the secret passage? For me it'll just be the same four walls.

Ma non-relationship wit Sean [his real name]

I won’t even try fo’ a codename tho’ he reads tis ‘coz he just TOO INDIFF’RENT or TOO DENSE to give a damn. I can imagine him now shruggin’ his shoulders & already typin’ in an NBA or some otha web address to replace mine only halfway thru readin’ tha first sentence of ma post. [“Wala namang picture, haba masyado ng post mo!] Fo’ two years I’ve been havin’ a non-relationship wit him…

AN INTERMISSION OF THOUGHTS: [as heard on tha background]
Maver [referrin’ to tha TV which only had channel 7]: “Ano ba bat nagka-gañan? Ginalaw pa kasi alam namang manood ako ng Jenny eh!
Paver: “Kala ko ba manonood ka ng Meteor Garden kaya ko nga inaayos sa baba eh!”
Maver: “Wala akong sinasabing ganon! Alam namang Jenny na pag ganitong oras eh!”
Paver: “Eh narinig ko sabi mo kay Len sa phone, Meteor Garden na!”
Maver: “Hindi naman ibig sabihin manonood ako nun eh!”
Paver [startin to get upset & raise his voice]: “Aba! rinig na rinig ko kanina gusto mong ipa-ayos yung TV, kaya nga bumaba pa ako eh!
Maver [in a neutral, calm voice]: “Ewan ko sayo, ayoko na ng maingay… basta ako mananahimik na lang ako dito.”
Paver: “Parehong-pareho kayo ng anak mo, ang linaw linaw ng usapan tapos iniiba!”
Maver: “Oo na, sige na! ‘nonood na’ ko ng “Jenny”!
And now to continue…

…He interrupts me ‘bout 20 times durin’ our phone calls just at that crucial moment when am nearin’ tha climax of ma story -juz to GO & PLAY WIT THA CAT. Plus, he is so cold & non-comittal, usin’ one-word answers & unwilling to talk ‘bout thangs that are troublin’ him. Oftentimes, I hafta invent emotions fo’ him to try & guess at how hes really feelin. I think he has PETER PAN SYNDROME. Wut is a PETER PAN SYNDROME? PPS or Peter Pans, according to Dan Diley are men who have NEVER GROWN UP or REFUSE TO GROW UP.

Dan said that those wit PPS are men who:
-> are more keen on bein’ friendly to mere acquaintances than in showin’ love & concern fo’ tha family
-> use “I don’t know” and “I don’t care” as their defense mechanisms.
-> have social incapacity & emotional paralysis.
-> sadness manifested as forc’d gaiety, childish pranks, or nervous laughter.
-> impotent to deal wit an assertive female on equal footing & so dates women who are
younger or whose actions suggest immaturity.
-> say they love ya but can’t seem to remember how to express love.
-> narcissism locks em inside themselves.
-> get hostile when ya reflect on his defensiveness.
-> successful in resistin’ help.
-> rarely finish college in tha usual allotted time/believes they’re employ’d in tha wrong
capacity but fails to do anything bout it but complain.
-> often stingy ‘cept when it comes to their own indulgences.
-> appear to have unexplain’d fears& lack self-confidence but refuse to talk bout it.
-> accuses ya of getting too emotional while they appear to be above it all, sittin’ like a
stone when you are angry.
-> easily offended by jobs they see as beneath em. get into employment difficulty ‘coz of
severe procrastination or become workaholics in an attempt to prove their worth.
-> work hard to have fun @ parties & tend to push themselves beyond reasonable limits
in participative sports.
-> find it impossible to say they’re sorry & find it extremely difficult to express their
feelings.
-> operate wit prejudicial premises you’ll never understand thus you cannot successfully
argue a point wit em.
-> expresses concern ‘bout yer probs only after you’ve complain’d bout his indiff’rence.
-> have lost touch wit their emotions & simply dunno wut they feel.

To rebel against tha tradition that getting old shud be celebrated, I slept ma whole birthday away…

And now I’m awake when every’un else has gone to sleep.

Oh well. At least am not silly, sleep-deprived & brokenhearted like last year’s b-day!

I have alwez been famous fo’ tha poker unreacting unchangin’ expression on ma face & whenever I do react fin’lly, it’d be when tha moment had pass’d -minutes, hours, or even days later. Here is proof…

Around 1 PM today, I was inform’d via text message from a pal that one of ma best pals in tha world is gonna be leavin fo’ tha US for gewd tis Saturday & that her despedida party wud take place next day. As I was busy wit work, I automatically typed a message typically written to tha departer askin her why shez leavin’ me and why she’d never mention’d leavin’ before and then storing that li’l known fact of her li'l stunt of keepin me in tha dark bwt her departure at tha back of ma mind to be return’d to & summon’d forth again only when I’ve finish’d ma tasks.

Later when I was home & had nuthin’ productive to do, out of loneliness, I got to tha habit of thinkin’ up persons I ma felt like callin’ on tha phone. And then I remember’d. One of ma best pals -who’s also one of those few persons whom I’d like to torment wit ma rantings & general complaints ‘bout life at tha other end of tha line- is leavin. And shez leavin’ fo’ gewd. And then I was bawlin’ and gettin’ ma eyes all puffy wit tha mix’d frustration of not comin’ up wit a person to call at that moment & thinkin’ bout tha fututre wit ma narrow’d down list of persons to call.

I hate goin’ to church. It’s not so much as I hate tha actual church procedure itself …not tha singin’ nor tha sittin’ down to listen to tha lecture nor tha gettin’ up to pray fo’ minutes on end nor even tha givin’ of money near tha end. It’s tha circumstances before it that I can't really stand. Every Sunday I git hell from paver makin’ me eat quick when I’ve barely sat & do thangs quick so we can go to church on time. Thursdays I git hell from both paver and maver. I especially loathe Thursdays when I hafta wake up @ 4:30 & go to tha earliest mass since I ain’t have no time fo’ it any otha time since I be workin’ tha rest of tha day. I sooo hate bein’ rush’d! I alwez ask’d paver why we can’t go @ 8pm on Wednesdays instead juz like bro do, but no! He juz want me to wake up @ tha crack of dawn every Thursday & show up lookin’ dead for work! From 4:30 til tha time I git in tha safety of tha church, maver & paver wud be havin’ an endless naggin’ contest between em two tryin’ to outdo each other in raisin’ their voices & givin’ more insults to me. As maver goes to tha afternoon church, paver wud do tha noble job of naggin’ enuf fo’ tha two of em tha moment we leave tha house & it ain’t less fun than he&maver goin’ at it together as paver is tha supreme cuss-spewin’ human & his voice is 5 times as loud & irritatin’ as maver. And I really really hate it tha way they’d git me so disoriented like an annoyin’ person shoutin’ “boo!” at yer face when yer tryin’ to concentrate so that I usually forgit sumthin ‘coz they be practically shovin’ me outta tha house & paver wud run outta tha house in a huff so that I hafta follow his big, long strides coz I ain’t carryin no tricycle coins wit me to git to church. And I hate hate hate leavin’ ma phone/hanky/diskette/earrings/compact and I hate hate hate hate lookin’ like tha wrath of God even more wit tha oldest shirt on ma back & a mismatchd skirt tha product of getting’ dress’d so quickly when there’s still no light & a dragon is breathin’ down yer neck. And I think to ma’self when I’m more grown-up & I git out of their house I won’t go to church at all. Coz I alwez come to church fumin’ mad, wishin’ ill thoughts to ma progenitors & ready to snap @ ma seatmates shud they gimme one funny look or smirk @ ma uncomb’d hair anyway. And I think is it really worth it goin’ to church if it does me more bad than gewd? And anotha thang I hate is when maver bullies me to give more to church. She’d really pick away @ ma conscience tha way she did before when we came to visit relatives & she made me feel really really bad til I buckled down & gave 500 to a relative while she only made bro give a hundred & fifty as if bro don’t git paid twice as much. And anyway, she’d tell me that aside from tha annual “meager” 4-digit figure I give to church [which shed say is sooo selfish of me] I shud give ma own alms 2x a week to church now & ain’t I ashamed coz bro does now. I say let’s talk again when I’m 25 [bro’s age]. I know that all tha naggin’ & hell I git from her & paver ‘bout church thangs affect ma relationship to tha Big Man. They make me lose tha enthusiasm I wud’ve otherwise had fo’ luvin’ God more freely & more wholeheartedly. How cud I when I alwez associate God ways like goin to church or givin’ alms to hell from maver & paver? Mebbe that’s why people hate religion. I mean why does it hafta be so difficult? I mean mebbe it’s not so difficult but really followin’ tha rules or realy bein’ into it like bein’ active or bein’ an officer or bendin yer back backwards to suck up to God is difficult. And to be a know-it-all self-important prissy person -which I’ll eventually be if I try to git active & try to score a ticket to heaven- duzen really sit well wit me. Does God love masochists? Why doesn’t He want us to do fun thangs like have sex before marriage or love sumone from anotha religion? Are we all goin’ to hell? Exactly how much can I git away wit and still go to heaven?

After applyin’ in a daily broadsheet through sumone paver had tha chance to interact wit in his Tamiya days sumtym in August, tha friend fin’lly came through for me & tha daily call’d me to come over last week fo’ an interview. Wit clients lookin’ down on me wit their haughty noses in ma current place of employment & tha possibility of bein’ kick’d out still hoverin’ over ma pretty head, I was all willin’ to look at options that are possibly bett’r & go fo’ sidelines that cud bring in more fun [& money!] fo’ me. Only when I went, it turn’d out not to be an interview but an information sheet filling-up session a.k.a. tha name-dropping questionnaire. Now I usually prepare for tha irritating info sheet fill-up sesh by bringin’ ma notebook of answer’d clichéd queschns [a notebook wit ready made answers to quescns like wut is ma best qualitites & worst etc.] but nuthin prepar’d me for tha 6-page headache I spent answerin’ in a chilly empty room. A quarter of tha whole 6-page info sheet pretty much dealt wit enumeratin’ all tha peepz I know in tis lifetime & then some. Pages 1-2 ask’d me who ma parents & sibs are, their age, their occupation, their residence & their company address. Same goes fo’ ma maternal & paternal grandparents. Tha same pages ask for persons I know who are workin’ for tha media, advertising agency, radio & also asks for their position, company address, residence, etc. It also ask’d to enumerate those I know who are workin’ for a hotel, motel or inn as well as those who are working for banks, financial investment companies, etc. Al must come of course, wit their position, office address, etc. 3-4 demands that I name 10 persons from private entities who are close to ma family & who cud vouch for ma integrity & honesty & also asks for tha works. [mention’d abuv] It also ask’d fo’ anotha 10 persons I know in tha government who cud also vouch fo’ ma integrity. Pages 5-6 ask fo’ tha exact number of uncles I have as well as exact number of aunts then proceed to ask me to enumerate them as well as their age, & again the works. [office address, position, residence] It also ask’d me to enumerate ma nephews & nieces wit corresponding info bout them and also provided sufficient blanks fo’ uncles-in-law and aunts-in-law wit corresponding mini-profile. As I can’t understand some of tha queschns & can’t consult any’un to ask queschns bout tha queschns since tha antipatika-lookin’ admin person banish’d me in an empty room at another floor, I left most of tha queschns blank. Fo’ instance, I can’t understand if uncles-in-law & aunts-in-law pertain to ma husband’s uncles & aunts [tha way I see it] or to ma uncles & aunts’ spouses [tha way paver sees it when I texted him to ask], so I juz put a big “N/A” over tha blanks. And tha nephews & nieces bit, I dunno if they only want ma bro’s children [in which case I won’t be able to fill it up as ma bro’s still single] or they want any which nephew/niece I cud come up wit even if they be nephews I have through 3rd or 4th cuzin relations. And also I dunno if I shud include ma cuzin’s stepchildren or only put those which has our blood in em. ‘Twas also confusin’ to answer tha queschn which goes wut office machine I can operate. It duzen say enumerate programs but machines/equipments so I juz wrote fax machine & personal computer instead of Adobe, Word etc. also I wasn’t sho’ whether to put personal computer or include tha pc’s brand. And then it also got confusin’ like it wud start to ask a steady stream of queschns answerable by yes or no & then tha next queschn [which is lined up next to tha yes or no queschn like it belong’d in one category] wud suddenly have you choosin between 3 options wit blanks preceding em -& it diden say “check any of tha 3”. And then it also asks fo’ some ancient info like yer elementary & high school rating and asks some thing I’m totally clueless ‘bout like tha number of words I can type per minute which diden even give options to choose from & also ask’d intrudin’ queschns like ma monthly expenses. [as if I’d tell em tha fact that I spend more than I earn!]

Feeling for the lost and confused
Yesterday I watch’d 4 men sitting across looking alert and swiveling their heads left and right in anticipated search for their destination. It’s Father Abraham & his 3 children from faraway. Faraway was immediately assum’d as a look was taken at their dust-cover’d outdated shoes and bulky bags. Tha three sons all had tha same dark skin, straight hair, and slanted eyes, obviously takin’ after their mother rather than the curly-hair’d, wide-eyed, fair skinn’d Father Abraham. I watch’d em wit tha same concentration as they watch’d tha road, waitin’ for em to git off & curious if they really know where they’re going.
Today as I got on tha jeep wit paver, luck had me seated next to an extreme sideway sittin, butt-pointin’, rigid lady in her forties who wuden budge when paver was askin her to move so that her rear had me & paver cramm’d into a very small space in tha jeep’s corner while her fat ass was takin up space fo’ two passengers. Soon, anotha man loaded onto her otha side & ask’d her to do tha same thang, but stil she refus’d to sit facin’ forward like any sane passenger wud do. Then in tha middle of tha ride, she suddenly spoke a stream of fast Chinese words to her seatmate on tha left to which tha seatmate responded by givin’ her directions in Tagalog. Unable to understand Tagalog, she spoke more words in quick frantic Chinese directing it to tha man next to her seatmate [to which he responded in Tagalog] then to tha sleepy old man wit slanting eyes across from us who shook his head no to her. By then, I was laughin’ so hard at ma poor serious Chinese seatmate [whose back was turn’d to me] that I was ‘fraid that she [or her rear] cud feel me shakin’ wit laughter & be offended by my behavior. When I recover’d I ask’d her where she was going in English and wonder’d why no one thought of speakin’ English to her. By then I really start to feel fo’ tha Sharp Rear & I nudg’d paver to ask him to help tha lady out but paver was in his suplado no-talking-in-the-jeep mood & shruggd me off haughtily as he –prolly tha only one in tha jeep who’s not payin attention to tha Chinese Sharp Rear in strict compliance to his weird no-talking-in-the-jeep rule- pretended to be preoccupied with tha streets. We learn’d that tha Sharp Rear was goin’ to Ongpin. At one point, Sharp Rear was about to jump down tha jeep after a student got off but every’un shouted for her to stay in her seat, as we were still far off from her destination. Tis got tha fair-skinnd lady across from us ‘fessin up that she was goin to Ongpin too & that they can git off together. It also turn’d out that Snow White can understand Sharp Rear afterall & even spoke some back to Sharp Rear. After some time, paver barked tha announcement fo’ our payment in his booming voice which no doubt scared nervous Sharp Rear on ma left & set me off to anotha round of laughing again.

Wut got me feeling for the lost and confused
Since Christmas, I’ve been meaning to go to Ali Mall to buy ma’self some sweater I once saw & fell in luv wit. Failin’ to get it after tha Christmas break, I resolv’d to buy it before tha New Year break ended & it’s back to work again. But on tha Sunday I was plannin’ to buy it, Maver diden wake me up like she usually does so we cud go to church in tha morn. Since paver partied at a neighbor’s birthday tha previous night and had but little sleep, she told me that paver & me wud hafta attend tha 4-6pm shift while she & brover attended tha early mass. Thinkin’ she did tis on purpose since she knows I git tha urge to mall-hop on Sundays & prolly thinkin’ that I can’t venture off by ma own at night, I ventured off by ma own soon as me & paver got home & soon as I fetch’d ma bag & wallet to head into tha unknown at 6:30 pm in ma church garb of skirt & feet-hurtin’ sandals. I got on a Cubao jeep, ignored tha rowdy jologs who made jokes ‘bout me bein’ tha other one’s gurlfriend & ask’d tha fare collector beside tha driver how much I shud pay for a trip goin to Ali Mall. Encouraging & helpful as all drivers & driver assistants shud be to passengers who don’t know where they’re headed, tha fare collector responded by not sayin’ anythang at all & lookin’ at me wit a smirk on his face. Good thang tha elderly driver responded. Sometime when tha only passengers left were me, a gurl beside me & a lady across, tha lady held up her bag to show me & tha gurl tha wide slash it had on its side & tha trail of white sugar beside her. Seem’d like tha rowdy jologs slash’d her bag, which only contain’d store-bought sugar & some apples. Tha lady said that she had been keepin’ her mint in her pocket & so tha boys fail’d to catch anythang from her bag but tha sprinklin’ of sugar comin’ loose. Durin’ tha ride, tha constant feelin’ that I have miss’d ma destination kept me to continuously ask tha driver “Ali Mall na ba?” Fin’lly, tha fare collector told me to git off at a Mercury drugstore & told me that walkin’ a few miles more towards tha direction he pointed wud lead me to Ali Mall. Since Rustann’s was tha nearest visible lighted sign in tha night, I went straight for it & tried a few exits before rememberin’ that Ali Mall is right next to SM and started lookin’ out for SM as well. At Ali Mall, I found out that tha sweater was gone & so I consoled ma’self by buyin’ not-as-gorgeous blouse at tha same store which I’m wearin’ fo tha first time today here at work. [ma boss had not yet return’d that’s why am postin ;-)] since I was frustrated in not findin’ tha sweater, I went to SM to buy a bottle of GAP Dream instead but once again I was disappointed & not wantin’ to go home wit juz one purchase, I bought 2 soaps at Rustann’s beauty bar. At quarter to 8, I thought ‘twas time to go home. I walk’d & walk’d till I found a place where there are alotta jeeps comin’ & goin’ but after observin’ em, I found out that they were all headed to either Antipolo or Project sumthin so I walk’d some more till I’ve been ‘round tha same places twice, tryin to figure out where Isetann is as I remember’d goin’ there wit maver & paver on our way home a month ago. When I fin’lly found it, I got on a Quiapo/España jeep, told tha driver “isang Altura”, then immediately paid tha exact amount I paid comin’ to Ali Mall. When we were at ma school, I suddenly understood why paver alwez pays our fare only when we’re about to git off jeeps…tha driver had a flat tire & as there were only three of us left in his jeep, he gave back tha big, gangly man beside me his money & told him to git off, kept tha boy beside me who’s headed to Vito Cruz only a few miles away, & totally ignored tha clueless gurly carryin’ brand new soaps & blouse who dunno where shes goin’. So I got off after tha big man & figured out that I shud prolly board a jeep wit tha same signboard as tha one that went flat so when tha next Quiapo jeep pass’d, I flagg’d & happily boarded next to tha driver since I rarely git to sit upfront & I lov’d sittin’ in front & pretendin’ to be tha fare collector. Wut I forgot was tha fact that I was wearin’ a skirt & hafta take a big step to be able to board tha high seat of ma coveted passenger position & bein’ tha clumsy oaf that I am, prolly flash’d tha driver. I handed him a twenty-peso bill and repeated “isang Altura” but he wasn’t carryin change & told me that 3 Pesos wud be okay wit him as I don’t have change either ‘cept fo’ 4 Peso coins which I stupidly thought was not enuf as it stuck to ma mind that tha fare was still 5 Pesos even if we’re already in España. I handed him 4. Ten minutes into tha ride, he felt tha need to break tha silence by announcin’ “Ikaw na lang pala pasahero ko. Is-pesyal ka pala!” to which tryin to figure out if he was juz bein friendly or hittin’ on me, I replied wit a weak “Oo nga eh.” When we reach’d Quiapo, it began to enter ma mind that tha reason tha jeep was label’d Quiapo was coz Quiapo was its last destination before turnin’ back round to head where it came from. Suddenly ma clear steady vision of goin home started to become cloudy. I only brighten’d up when tha driver started shoutin “O, es-em, es-em!!!” to egg passersby on to board his jeep. Of course, I was on tha right jeep! Tha driver did say SM Centerpoint, diden he? I was on tha right track home! So I was confident even if we pass’d by ma former school again. And then tha face of Sonny Belmonte in his billboard came into ma view. Ain’t Sonny Belmonte tha mayor of Quezon City? And where was I again? I consoled ma’self thinking I was in Araneta & that eventually it’ll head to Centerpoint then Altura. I was doin’ a pretty gewd job of convincin’ ma’self when passengers begin to declare “Fairview” as their destination and I panicked once again. Tha last straw was when I begin seein’ tha big flashy signs for restaurants & bars in Timog like Pegasus & such. Fumin’ that tha driver diden say a word when I clearly told him I was goin’ to Altura hours ago, [& to think he was beside me!] I ask’d if he still had any plans of goin’ to Altura at tha same tellin’ him that I thought I was on tha wrong jeep. Instead of tellin’ me where to git off & where to ride tha right jeep home, tha driver juz smiled at me & told me hell be headin back to Quiapo pretty soon. Thinkin’ that was that, I resign’d back to ma seat til tha guy seatin’ at ma back spoke up & told me I shud git off at _ [can’t remember] ‘coz I’d only stray farther away from home shud I wait for tha jeep to go to Quiapo again. At tha right moment, tha guy told me to git off & instructed me to walk til I was past tha fly-over before ridin’ a bus label’d “Crossing Ibabaw” then getting’ off at tha “Central”. He diden tell me if I shud cross or juz wait for a bus after reachin’ tha fly-over. I was ‘bout to cross when a guy walk’d past & I stopp’d him to confirm whether I was headed fo tha right direction. In utter hopelessness & doom to git home right away, I also shared ma misfortunes fo’ tha earlier part of tha evenin’. Takin pity, he said that we cud ride tha bus together & proceeded in introducin’ himself & askin fo’ ma cel no. [which I diden give] prolly mullin’over whether he shud actually sacrifice bein’ late to work [he told me later on he was headed to work in Makati] to accompany a stranger to her destination, it took him eons to fin’lly flag down a “Crossing Ibabaw” bus tho’ I’ve watch’d about 10 buses pass us by [4 of which are almost empty]. Fin’lly, I tapp’d him impatiently on tha shoulder & ask’d wheteher he diden think it was time fo’ us to board a bus. After textin’ his companion, he ask’d if ‘twas a’ite wit me to stand in a bus before boarding a bus that was jampack’d wit passengers. Bein’ tha lucky gurl that I was agreed and spent half of tha ride’s duration bumpin’ into tha scrawny guy at ma back & sittin’ once on tha face of tha woman seated at ma back everytime tha bus wud lurch forward. Seein’ as I cuden stand straight wut more go thru tha contents of ma bag to git out ma wallet & pay tha konduktor, tha stranger who was ma key towards headin’ home paid for both our fare. At Mega Mall where he told me ‘twas time to git off, he even ask’d a guard fo’ directions & cross’d tha street wit me towards where many right jeeps goin home are available fo’ me to hop on. After givin me his cel no. [I still refus’d to give him mine] I was once again on a Quiapo jeep but tis time on one that’ll git me home. Tha last surprise fo’ tha night came as tha man sittin’ upfront turn’d out to be some sorta criminal coz two policemen shone their flashlight on his face & got him to unload tha jeep. Of course tha underbridge market I hafta walk thru to git home was already very dim & very empty which is an appropriate semi-ending for ma night out of listless walkin’ & hopeless commutin’. Tha grand finale was 5 slaps across tha face from ma maver when I got home at 10:30 pm.