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]
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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.
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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.