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!]