It's been too long since I last posted on this blog. I admit, I have been indulging in a slothfest of sorts. Sleep, eat, sleep, read a little and sleep some more. Oh, I was able to jog around the Acad Oval a couple of weeks ago. Aside from that, the only physical activity I've engaged in was my daily buzzer-beating stride from the MRT station to our office's bundy clock. Haha.
I tried to renew my contact with the outside world by creating a Multiply account. It was meant to be a "virtual stalking" tool but since most everyone have theirs now, I might as well keep mine too. Well, so far it's been way lot easier to use than Blogger (teehee, peace!)
Twenty-one films, three novels and two drinking sessions. That pretty much sums up my sembreak. Not bad for a student employed full-time, eh?
After so many months of barren movie-viewing life, the chance to watch movies in a theater for free came. Thanks goodness Cine Europa coincided with the sembreak this year; I was able to see seven. It was a modest number, for I stopped myself from watching the ones screened beyond MRT hours. The rest was from our office’s DVD collection: Rodgers and Hammerstein classic musicals, Paramount Pictures’ dance pack and Baz Luhrmann’s Red Curtain Trilogy. The experience was reminiscent of my undergrad days when I’d borrow VHS tapes from the Film Department and wait for the dorm’s TV viewing hours to end so I wouldn’t impinge on other dormers’ rights. I would sit there watching alone until the wee hours of the morning. I even secured a permit from the dorm manager for that (Gosh, I was such a dork, to think most of those films weren’t even required.) At home, of course, no permit was needed but I still waited til late night so my siblings wouldn’t miss PBB Celebrity edition.
As if determined to bleed my eyes out, the other vacation activity I had consisted of heavy optic use. During the sem (and earlier), I promised myself not to read in moving vehicles anymore. The books I’ve picked, however, were so good that I couldn’t help but break that promise. So in that way I’ve read Carson McCullers’ The Heart is a Lonely Hunter, Ayn Rand’s Anthem and Aldous Huxley’s Brave New World. I can almost hear my mom saying “Gusto mo talagang mabulag ano?”
But the most fun part of the break was being pariwara (sabi nga ni JD). The ranters, or the members of the block who badger each other with “Nakatulog-ako-slash-hindi-ako-nakapagbasa” messages every morning through their office emails, finally got together, crashed a blockmate’s house, abused that wonderful invention called magic sing (and the blockmate’s neighbors as well), got wasted and repeated the same feat the following weekend. Ang saya!
Finally, the sem is over. I’m not quite sure if that’s a reason to be jubilant though, as I haven’t seen the result of the exams yet. I didn’t prepare well enough for it. I doubt if anybody did, except one blockmate who’s always too bibo and prepared for these stuff. The problem with me was I wasn’t able to file a leave of absence from work and my cramming power was not sufficient to go over the truckload of cases (most of which are backlog, the ones I didn’t read during the sem), so most of the answers I gave were pure pambobola. For now, I can only give a sigh of relief.
Wohoo, DVDs and books galore! =)
Duh, two weeks lang pala ang bakasyon. And I still have work.
==> OK, I’m talking to myself again...
All things relating to education, patience, help from superiors.The Hierophant is often considered to be a Guardian Angel.
The Hierophant's purpose is to bring the spiritual down to Earth. Where the High Priestess between her two pillars deals with realms beyond this Earth, the Hierophant (or High Priest) deals with worldly problems. He is well suited to do this because he strives to create harmony and peace in the midst of a crisis. The Hierophant's only problem is that he can be stubborn and hidebound. At his best, he is wise and soothing, at his worst, he is an unbending traditionalist.
My leave was approved, there were no classes in Legal Bibliography and Consti (although the circumstances were not exactly great – we only had LegBib sessions thrice so far, and for Consti, Prof M was sick) and I was barraged with text greetings from friends I haven’t heard from in ages. The day had the makings of an ideal birthday. Until I heard the sad news.
Well, I guess things are not supposed to be perfect. Just the same, I thank the Universe for giving me another good year. Thank you po.
**** The day after
I really didn’t want to attend Persons because I fell asleep halfway through the first case (I just didn’t feel like studying on the night of my birthday) and I know by experience that going to class unprepared is the worst thing you can do. But then, I was already absent the previous session so I let the Soul Sisters (Jan & Christine C.) convince me to go to class. Lahat naman daw kami hindi nagbasa, hehe…
At the start of the class Prof R announced, "Someone's celebrating her birthday today." I didn't pay attention to my blockmates who were all staring at me. My birthday was over, the prof was probably referring to somebody from the second years. Perhaps annoyed by my dedma attitude, she said "You're denying it's your birthday Ms. ___?" I said "Ma'am, it's actually yesterday." She answered that when it's your birthday you're supposed to celebrate it for a week (magastos yata masyado yun).
So the class went on like it usually does, except I wasn't called for recit (Agnes says it's probably Prof R's gift for my birthday). When the class was about to end, Prof R said "we will extend a little to see what your blockmates prepared for your birthday" and led the class in singing the Happy Birthday song. Then Christian brought out this cute cake from...I forgot, but it was heavenly. =) It was the ultimate "awww" moment and I wasn't able to keep my tears from flowing. Nakakainis, di pa naman bagay sakin ang umiyak. Prof R shared the cake with us and greeted me again and for a while she was my favorite prof (ahaha!).
The trouble started on Friday night, after a particularly bad recit in Crim (I've read the assigned pages and memorized the codals but somehow when the prof called my name to recite I couldn't remember anything and after a bit of struggle, I finally gave in to the urge to look at the book in the hope that I'd catch some magic phrase that would make me remember what I studied and save me from further humiliation. It was, of course, a very wrong move.) Strange how I managed to laugh silently and make faces after the prof called somebody else. Months before I would have "disapparated" by force of shame. Matapang/makapal na ako ngayon, hehe.
At home I tried reading an article called "A Prologue to A History of English Law" for next day's class but after an hour of staring at the same page, I abandoned the thing altogether. The footnote says it was first published in 1898. "That's why it's too esoteric," I reasoned to myself. It's an invalid argument, I know, for I can read Dickens and Austen and the Bronte sisters whose works preceded the article by decades without having problems. It helped me not to feel too bad about myself. I went to bed and stayed up for thirty minutes contemplating whether or not I will drop Legal History. But morning came and to class I went, although I was asleep the whole time with my eyes open.
In the afternoon I rambled off to the little bookshop across the UP Post Ofice where I spotted Sylvia Plath's The Bell Jar. I was almost in tears at the sight of it (I've always wanted to own a copy but I couldn't find any), and so I bought it even though I wouldn't have the time to do some extra-curricular readings. =( I stowed it away after covering it with plastic and began reading the Persons cases in earnest. After a few minutes, however, I decided to read the book, having been sufficiently distracted by images of a woman baking her head in the oven (that's how Plath killed herself, I think).
Now I'm done with it and I don't know what to think. The book's theme of "search for identity and descent towards madness" muddled my already problematic sense of self. Or maybe it's just the rain. Or the cups of coffee I washed my stomach with after devouring bars of Cloud 9 which had the effect opposite its name (I have yet to figure out whether chocolate is an upper or a downer).
I think about the inscription at Malcolm and how it should read "Abandon all hope, ye who enter here" instead. I remember the word "involution" and how my Kasaysayan 100 prof said it's when a complex civilization deteriorates when it has reached its full potential, and then I imagine my brain losing its convolutions and turning into a smooth mass, like that of a rat's.
I just had my longest recit last Tuesday. It sure feels weird to stand for an hour and still manage to come up with decent answers (ngayon lang nangyari yon, haha). Good thing I was the first called to recite because I only read the first part of the assignment.
Before the class started, the prof took a dose of Advil, saying that “We’ll be having a long discussion tonight so you better take yours too.” During the previous session, he told the class, “The purpose of this exercise (recitation) is not to annihilate you, so don’t just stand there and wait to be massacred.” So I couldn’t help but be scared and nervous to death.
I’ve been standing for about 30 minutes, discussing the requirements as to titles of bills passed in Congress. Just when I was about to run out of answers, the discussion took a different turn:
Prof: Ms. ______, what was the last locally produced movie that you saw?
Ako: A Love Story, Sir (with conviction ito).
Prof: So who was the mistress? (the class broke out laughing)
Ako: I’m not supposed to tell Sir. It’s for you to find out (plus a pa-cute grin).
Prof: Don’t you think its premise is crazy? If you have a wife who looks like Angelica Panganiban, why would you want to have an affair with someone as old as Maricel Soriano?
Ako: … (asus, pinanood din pala niya!)
The case, by the way, was Tio vs Videogram Regulatory Board. Petitioner in this case is a businessman engaged in the video production (?) business. He is questioning the constitutionality of Pres. Decree 1987, or “An Act Creating the VRB” particularly Section 10 thereof which provides for the imposition of taxes on all sales of video materials. Petitioner contends that this provision was not included in the title of the said Act and is therefore violative of Article VI, Section 26 of the 1987 Constitution which states that “Every bill passed by the Congress shall embrace only one subject which shall be expressed in the title.”
Hay, suwerte. I just wish all the profs are as cool as Prof. M.
Monday. Manic is the word. “Start your week right,” my conscience tells me as she (?) urges me to wake up. 6 seems too indecent a time for someone who sleeps at 2AM. But it’s the department bosses’ weekly meeting and I can’t afford to be late. All right conscience, panalo ka na. Day at work proceeds smoothly; evening at school might not. It’s Persons and Family Relations Day, and the prof seems to hate me. Tuesday. The alarm clock rings at 6:30. I let it snooze five times until it’s 7. I scramble to the bathroom and fix (or at least try, hehe) my self. I read the Consti cases in the FX and LRT while fighting drowsiness. My only relief is that the professor doesn’t ask for too much details (unlike in Persons). But when I remember his first meeting sound byte, I shudder. “You spent P20,000.00 to be terrorized, no, I don’t want to use that term. Let’s say, ‘lovingly compelled’ instead.” *waah!* Wednesday. Weekly meeting of the Network’s big wigs. I prepare whatever needs to be prepared and pray that the meeting last for hours. I need all the time in the world to finish the Persons readings I wasn’t able to finish last night. I don’t want to experience the Monday episode again (too shameful to be repeated here). Wait, bakit kailangang matapat sa meeting days ang Persons? Thursday. Another Consti day, another wisecrack. “Constitutional Law is a beautiful subject. It makes life difficult for everyone.” It’s actually a fun subject, I swear. Friday. “Thanks God it’s Friday” does not apply. There’s nothing to be thankful about Criminal Law where the class sits for three hours waiting for their turn to be called and argue before/with a Justice of the Sandiganbayan. Each member of the class is called at least twice every meeting. Buti na lang may soft copy ang cases. I can engage in some “guerilla-type” studying in the office. Saturday.“The week never ends,” as the ABS-CBN plug goes. Nothing can be closer to truth, I say, as I struggle to wake up for my 9AM class. Legal History has been the most neglected subject, it falling on the last day of the week, when all I want to do is relax and see a movie. Sunday. The time to do reading seriously (read: not in moving vehicles or in the workplace). I try to read amid all the distractions at home but I always end up in bed. Tragic.
I was supposed to post this on my first month as a returning student but I was so busy juggling work and school that I didn’t notice the clock ticking. Now, after a catastrophe called midterms, I’m not sure if I can still say what I said in this one, heehee.
Wow. Isang buwan na ako sa law school. Mga isandaang libong buwan na lang… Sa ngayon, matatawag ko pa ang sarili kong isang SURVIVOR.
School supplies. Ngayon ko lang na-appreciate ang kahalagahan ng binder clips, highlighters, index cards at post-its. Ngayon ko lang din nalaman na may calming effect pala ang isang makulay (punong-puno ng highlights) na readings. Feeling mo talagang nag-aral ka.
Unan at kumot. Ang mga bespren ko nung college ay hindi ko na masyadong nakakaulayaw (Bakit parang bastos pakinggan ang salitang ito? O ako lang yun?). Mukha na naman akong panda!
Recitations. Para sa isang nagtapos sa isang “no-talk” na kurso, ang pagre-recite ay isang kakaibang karanasan. Ibang-iba pala pag nakatayo (di tulad nung college), kadalasan naiiwan ang utak sa upuan. Kung minamalas, matatawag ka pa sa kaisa-isang kasong hindi mo nabasa.
Varicose veins. Resulta ito ng pagtayo nang matagal sa klase na resulta ng hindi pagbabasa na resulta naman ng pagpapaunlak sa tawag ng kama.
Impakto/a. Maraming ganito sa Malcolm Hall. Mangilan-ngilang beses na rin akong muntik nang maluha dahil sa kanila.
Vitamins. If you want to be complete, bawal magkasakit. More energy mas happy!
Oras. Ito ang kaaway ng lahat, lalo na ng mga evening students na katulad ko. Mabilis ang patak ng metro, ika nga.
Raket o Resign. Sa taas ng tuition fee, kailangan talagang maghanap-buhay. Pero sa dami naman ng kailangang basahin/intindihin/pag-aralan, tiyak gugustuhin mong magkulong na lang sa kuwarto o library maghapon.
"Pasukan na naman,
bakasyo'y tapos na.
guro at eskuwela..."
Ito na lamang ang naaalala ko sa tulang minemorya namin nung Grade 2. Tungkol yata sa pag-aaral ng leksyon ang mga sumunod na linya kaya hindi na pumasok sa ulo ko.
Nitong nakaraang linggo ay nagbalik-paaralan nga ako, at isang nakakagulat/asar/windang na impormasyon ang tumambad sa akin. Akalain mo, isang libo na ang halaga ng bawat yunit? Labing-apat na libo agad, dagdagan pa ng mga bayaring katawa-tawa (Athletics, Cultural, Internet, Energy, atbp) sa pandinig. Tumataginting na Php 16, 246.50 ang inabot ng matrikula ko. Kulang pa ang mid-year bonus. Kung tutuusin ay wala na dapat akong ikagulat dahil simula pa lamang ng unang taon bilang undergrad ay usap-usapan na ang pagtaas ng tuition. Hay, ewan ko ba. Mas mahirap nga sigurong gastusin ang bunga ng sariling dugo't pawis.
Sa haba ng bakasyong nagdaan, nakalimutan ko na halos kung paano ang mag-aral (bagamat hindi ko naman talaga natutunan ang tamang paraan). Tibay ng loob ang kakailanganin dahil tiyak na hindi magiging madali ang lahat, sabihin pang napapaligiran ako ng mga mabubuting kaibigan, kapamilya/kapuso, at mga bibong blockmates (chos!). =p
Wala na naman akong magawa. Kung minsan naman, hindi ako magkaugaga sa sobrang dami. Pero nakakapagod din pala ang maghapong pahinga... Kaya heto, sa halip na kimkimin ang pagkabagot, sinisikap kong maging produktibong mamamayan sa pamamagitan ng pagsusulat sa blog (huh?).
Isa sa mga pampalipas-oras na madalas kong gawin ay ang paglilista. Kahit ano lang. Katulad na lamang ng nasa ibaba: 1) Pitong dahilan kung bakit gusto kong mag-aral ulit: 1. Masarap mag-aral, marami kang makikilala at matututunan. Tarush!
2. Maaari kang lumiban o mahuli sa klase kung kailan mo naisin (basta walang exam). Walang salary deduction!
3. Maaari kang sumalungat sa sinasabi ng iyong guro. Pwede kang magmagaling, basta tama ka. Sa trabaho, kahit alam mo at ng boss mo na tama ka, hindi ka puwedeng mangatwiran.
4. Ang trabaho ay maaaring magdulot ng brain atrophy, tulad ng nararanasan ko sa kasalukuyan. Masasabing ito ay bunga ng maghapong pakikipagtitigan sa computer at pagpapanggap na ako ay may ginagawa.
5. Malaki ang posibilidad na makansela ang klase kapag malakas ang buhos ng ulan.
6. Walang limitasyon sa oras ng lunch break. At higit sa lahat…
7. May baon! 2) Pitong pelikulang dapat mong mapanood bago ka sumakabilang-buhay:
1. Amelie – Jean Pierre Jeunet, France
2. Hable Con Ella – Pedro Almodovar, Spain
3. Y Tu Mama Tambien – Alfonso Cuaron, Mexico
4. Annie Hall – Woody Allen, USA
5. Ran – Akira Kurosawa, Japan
6. Moulin Rouge – Baz Luhrmann , USA
7. Life is Beautiful – Roberto Benigni, Italy
… Idagdag na rin ang Dancer in the Dark, Being John Malkovich, at Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. 3) Pitong bagay na dapat mong gawin kung ikaw ay nalulungkot:
1. kumain ng ice cream/pizza/chocolate…
2. magpakalunod sa alak
4. mag-ehersisyo (dahil madadagdagan ang timbang mo kung susundin mo ang #1, hehe)
7. magdasal 4) Pitong bagay na gusto kong gawin bago ako pumanaw:
1. makatapak sa ibang bansa
2. mag-sky diving
4. umibig nang tapat (huwaat?!)
5. maligo sa ulan
6. umakyat ng bundok
7. panoorin ang paglubog ng araw sa Manila Bay kasama si _______. 5) Pitong salitang iisa ang kahulugan:
4. nagpantay ang paa
7. namatay 6) Pitong nilalang na nais kong makilala:
1. Osama Bin Laden
2. Oprah Winfrey
3. Miriam Defensor-Santiago
4. Leonardo DiCaprio
5. Woody Allen
6. Simon Cowell
7. Tenzhin Gyatso (Dalai Lama) 7) Pitong bagay na ginagawa ko kapag wala akong ginagawa (ano daw?):
1. Nagpapanggap na busy.
2. Nagbabasa ng libro.
3. Nakikipagtelebabad sa ka-opisinang sampung metro lamang ang layo mula sa akin.
4. Nag-iisip ng gagawin.
5. Natutulog nang nakadilat.
6. Nangangarap nang gising.
7. Nagsusulat ng mga walang kwentang bagay na katulad nito.
It was the first day of classes. I was in a classroom with some high school friends I haven’t seen in ages and several JCers (I only remember seeing Virge, Vani, Rhea, Cyril, Paul and Venus).The professor called my name to recite, but I was struck dumb with the unexpected question. Beads of sweat broke in my forehead and as I opened my mouth to answer, he approached closer and transformed into a dark hooded figure. The room darkened and the atmosphere became heavy. Two glints of light pierced the darkness, revealing two redheads holding up their wands. “Expecto Patronum!”
Then I woke up. I couldn’t stop laughing. Being saved by Fred and George Weasley from dementors was surely hilarious. Too bad Harry wasn’t there.
The other day, I dreamt of meeting my colleagues from my first job (who also resigned following my resignation) dining with our former boss. They looked so happy with her, and she seemed fifty pounds lighter. Then we all went to what looked like our office and I took a shower with my clothes on. My officemates never dine with my boss, much less be happy with her. And her losing weight is also out of the question so I knew even before waking up that it was just a dream (haha!).
Ang sama ko. Kaya siguro ako binabangungot.
The election bug has once again bitten Pinoys and infected the country with fever. Except for Kris Aquino’s infanticipating (and premature delivery a week ago), every news item bombarding the nation are election-related. I would have rejoiced if it was still 2004 and I’m a Journalism major struggling with OJT. I remember how I’d be thankful every time news of abducted political candidates reaches the AFP press office where I was assigned. “May mapa-publish na naman,” was the prevailing thought. Of course, I’d wish then that the outlawed groups responsible for the abductions would aim higher and kidnap the big wigs instead of preying on local politicos. Violence instigated by warring political clans also fed us vultures (somebody told me once that journalists are like vultures, they feast on the dead) with meaty scoops.
Well, that was then. Now that I’m a part of the hoi polloi, it is quite easy to be desensitized, ironically, by what we sense through the media.
Still about the elections…
With only a couple of days to go before May 14 (indeed, I should be taking the trip to the province where I will be casting my vote but here I am, cramming blog updates here in Alva’s Philcoa just to delay my trip and avoid knocking on our door at an ungodly hour [there goes the bad habit of kilometric parenthetical remarks I am so fond of committing]), I still couldn’t grasp the principle behind some candidates’ rabid desire to win while pulling off stunts that will lessen the likelihood of their doing so. Like:
1) Hiring bad campaign managers; 2) Coming out with inane political ads and terrible campaign slogans; 3) Playing cheesy jingles dispensed by traffic-causing vehicles; 4) Plastering over-Photoshopped posters all over the place; 5) Figuring in one or more (if the candidate is that bad) scandal/s; 6) Overdoing the “my-rival-is-out-to-get-me” game.
All these are actually products of Item Number 1.
I know we all have been victims of these crimes in one way or another so I don’t really need to cite specifics to support my contention but there’s this one slogan I’m dying to share because it is such a good joke: “BATA, MATALINO, PROGRESIBO AT GUWAPO!”, the last word in fonts larger than the rest. It’s as if the city’s fate depended on his physiognomy. I don’t know about the first three adjectives but judging by the portrait he chose to display, he at least wouldn’t be accused of lying. Or maybe he’s just smart enough to choose a picture of himself when he was young, made more handsome by his progressive use of technology.
I woke up last night with a tap on my shoulder. It was my brother, who usually doesn’t bother me asleep or awake, as long as I keep myself out of his territory. My surprise turned into shock when he murmured “Nakita ko sa labas, nakakalat,” and handed me my wallet, IDs, ATM card, credit card, and all other plastic cards which, in their usual state, are inside the black three-fold Marithe Francois Girbaud (fake) wallet which I got eons ago and never bothered to replace. I thought it was just a dream but my cat who sleeps beside me shared some of her fur and got them into my nostrils, giving me a sneezing fit. People don’t sneeze like that in dreams, with body shaking and giving off nasal by-products into the air (eww!). My brain cells spent several nanoseconds trying to process the information and came up with two possibilities, namely: a) I was so sleepy when I got home that night and never noticed that those items were subjected to gravitational pull, and b) some intruder tried breaking in and left those things in his flight. The second option made more sense upon examining our bedroom window. The screen was ripped off from the upper left-hand corner of the window and my bag was stuck in the uppermost opening of the glass jalousie. Only my umbrella and kikay kit (yes, I do have one) were left inside the bag, my USB and earphones were hanging on the edge of the slashed screen.
So how did he do it? (Now, there’s a case of sexism from someone who declares herself a progressive thinker especially when it comes to gender issues.) I usually leave my bag on the upper bunk of our double-deck bed, where I sleep as well. But that night, as was the case since a couple of nights ago, I didn’t sleep there because of the suffocating heat. Instead, I went to the living room and snoozed on the rubber mat.
The bed was positioned against the wall and formed an L with the window. The robber would have an easy time getting hold of the bag by using a meter-long rod and pulling it out, which he did, leaving behind the branch he has probably used in other pilfering endeavors. To his credit, he left the useless (to him) stuff and took only what he could benefit from. I could imagine his dismay when he opened that wallet, thick only with the “loyalty” cards and receipts, a doctor’s prescription, bus tickets, MRT and LRT cards, a list of things to accomplish before I die, another list of books to buy, and the ticket to last month’s Starstruck the Final Judgment. It’s a trash bin really, never put any money in it. He got the last trace of my recent salary though. That last three hundred and seventy-something pesos I kept in my ID case because I’m too lazy to carry my wallet around, and the coins in my purse (yes, even that) leaving behind a peso in it and three 25 cents scattered on the ground.
That was 3:30 in the morning, and after some CSI-ish inferring and some suggestions on how to catch the frigging son of a b (i.e., collecting the fingerprints of the people within fifty-meter radius and matching the samples with those left on my stuff, and “ipakulam natin,” as Kuya suggested), I went back to sleep, fully aware that I can’t get my property back. What annoyed me was his audacity to disturb our peace in that relatively peaceful neighborhood and the realization that window screens can not protect us from the more rapacious breed of mosquitoes.
I just want to make kuwento because you know, this blog's contents are like so yesterday and my sisters probably miss me na... Gosh, this is so not me. I don't even know where to put the punctuations. This is just a poor attempt to breath life into this dying blog.
Friday. Chuchay raved that rock band Urbandub will be having a gig that night at Virgin Café. We previously agreed to watch the Earth Day Jam that same night but when she learned about the band’s gig, plans changed. “Alam mo ba, taga-Cebu ang Urbandub. Sobrang bihira lang sila tumugtog dito tapos andami pang tao.” Not being a fan of the said group (and “late na, wala akong pang-taxi,” “may lakad ako bukas, kailangan kong gumising nang maaga,” maglalaba pa ako pagdating ng bahay,” and all the reasons I could think of except the real one which was “ayoko”), I politely refused. Only to be barraged by ad misericordiam-ish statements from Weng (i.e., “Minsan-minsan lang naman e. Di ka na nga sumasama sa amin, tapos ngayon lang kami magyayaya di mo pa mapagbigyan.”). Well, I always knew that I’m not impervious to peer pressure so the next five hours were spent drinking beer and jamming with the performing bands. The latter consisted of countless table-tapping, a lot of clapping, a little singing, some trips to the comfort room, and a few lethargic yawns and eyelid drooping (which, by the way, is not synonymous to sleeping). At 2 A.M., we left the bar and walked a few meters to see the concert for Mother Earth. The show was almost over when we arrived but catching the last band perform wasn’t too bad. I got home at a little past three. =)
Saturday. Despite the late night out, I still managed to wake up at eight in the morning, having promised Virge the day before that I would go with her to Instituto Cervantes for the International Book Day celebration. We were supposed to meet at 11A.M. at McDonald’s near the UN Avenue station. And so her “Dito na ako sa mcdo” text at 10:46 prompted me to reply “ok, c u. LRT na ako,” which was inaccurate as I was then still at Katipunan. LRT din, station 2 nga lang. Of course I arrived late and even had the nerve to call Virge and ask where she was because I couldn’t locate the Golden Arches. She ended up walking a block to get to where I was (sorry…).
Like any event with books and film showings, the event was fun. F. Sionil Jose and Jessica Zafra were there and the former even had a book-signing session. In the heat of noontime sun and amidst all those people, Virge noted that the antediluvian literary great looked like Buddha. I giggled, as the image of him with two babies on his shoulders (who had the likeness of Virge and me), flashed in my mind. Virge, despite being starstruck over JZ, was calm and composed. "Ayun siya sa likod, naka-orange top at red shades! Hay, nakita ko rin siya in person..." was all she said. Never asked for auto/photograph. Sayang.
If I remember it correctly, this was only the second time that we went out since graduating from college. It felt like one of those walks we used to do while working on our thesis. Only this time, we don't have to come up with something after the experience.
Sunday. Went to a friend in Makati to return the trappings I borrowed to transform me into a normal human being. I needed it for this interview that went terrible anyway. Then passed by a bookstore to buy a 900-page book. I promised myself I'd find time to read it, to justify my buying it with the few remaining bucks in my pocket. I remembered my father who went back from abroad last year (after a couple of years, so he didn't have a clue about this book-binging I'm in) and asked "Anong gagawin mo sa mga yan?," looking at my books with is-my-daughter-still-in-the-right-state-of-mind look on his face. I answered, matter-of-factly, "Babasahin." So several newly purchased (but not necessarily new) and unread books in my room make me feel guilty about buying another one. My reading skill is improving, I have read 17 chapters in two days and still got 30 more. I only hope my eyesight is still in top shape by the time I finish the book. As soon as I finish this one, I promise I'll never read in moving vehicles again. Yeah right.
Today. Chuchay announced that Urbandub will be having another gig this weekend. "Akala ko ba 'sobrang bihira'?" was all I could say.
And I found out that I couldn't make a phone-to-PC transfer of pictures. Wala tuloy akong mailagay dito... =(
We’re going two tomorrow. I wonder how we lasted that long. I’m selfish, immature, egoistic, and bossy (A deeper introspection may reveal more negative traits, so I’ll stop there). Of course he has bad traits too, but comparing him to me makes him look like an angel.
Our months together were smooth-sailing. Aside from my occasional (?) tantrums, we never had a fight so huge that it threatened to end our relationship. One friend even advised me to “wage war” with him to build up excitement. I didn’t follow her wise counsel though. I thought it was so Dubya-esque. I couldn’t get the point. Shouldn’t I be envied for having a peaceful time? A fight is a fight; you hurt each other’s feelings in the process, so why engage in an emotional ping-pong just to derive some kind of thrill? Surely, there must be other means of getting that (grin).
Seven things I learned from our seven hundred and thirty days together:
You can’t always get what you want.
Women do not have a monopoly over mood swings.
Prepaid credits matter.
Give your partner/relationship a TREAT -- Time, Respect, Effort, and Trust.
Control your impulses.
It’s not wise to over-intellectualize.
When you’re mad, keep your mouth shut.
There is actually a lot more, but this is getting mushy. Not quite the right topic for Lent...
It must have been the weather – hot and humid after a chilly week – that sent the level of my happy hormones down. Or maybe it was the post-Valentine’s Day fight I had with him over a silly subject (i.e., picture-taking with Rivermaya’s front man Rico Blanco). Perhaps it’s the depressing book I’m presently reading, an anthology of short stories about marriage. I don’t know... It’s like waking up from a bad dream of which nothing remains but the feeling of wretchedness.
Gosh, this is so teeny-bopper. Di na bagay sa akin.
She’s changed a lot. I never expected the transformation to be that fast. A couple of years ago, she was carefree and indifferent, subscribing only to what her peers believe in. Now she is assertive, has strong opinions about society and life in general, and is an active member of a militant youth group.
Her becoming a tibak is not unexpected. She enrolled in a course where almost every student is one. At first I thought she just became so because of her friends. I underestimated the depth of her sincerity and involvement, until recently, when I had the chance to spend a couple of hours of conversation with her. We covered a wide range of topics, from the recent approval of the system-wide tuition fee increase, the RGEP (Revitalized General Education Program), the 2007 elections, the continuing struggle of left-wing organizations, and social injustice. Albeit these are quite serious, her talk is peppered with tibak stories which are quite hilarious, I think.
I. Tibak 101
Bunso: Lahat naman sila (previous Philippine presidents) alipin ng mga MP.
Ako: What’s MP? Is that an acronym for something?
B: Imperyalista. Impe (stress on second syllable), pinaganda lang. Kapag pinagsama-sama lahat, IBP. Imperyalista, Burukrata, Pasista.
Ako: Hehe, parang Integrated Bar of the Philippines …
II. And the story of Tofi, the stray cat at their college building which their org baptized: Orgmate 1: Pangalanan natin ng Tofi.
Orgmate 2: Negative yun e (TOFI stands for Tuition and Other Fee Increases).
Orgmate 1: E di bigyan natin ng apelyido. Tofi Ibagsak!
III. My confession Ako: Dati gusto ko rin sumali sa ____ (activist org) kaya lang parang may sarili silang subculture. Nakaka-alienate.
Bunso: Oo nga e. Tapos dugyot pa karamihan. Na-award nga kami ng Dean namin e. Mukha daw kaming mabaho… Ako: No offense ha, pero mukha nga, hehe.
Our parents and siblings don’t know anything about her extra-curricular activities. All they know is that she’s a junior Social Work major in cum laude standing and that her professors are giving her a hard time with all the academic requirements they burden her classes with (ranting is a favorite pastime of hers). My mom constantly reminds her not to join aktibistas; giving disparaging comments when news of protest actions come out on TV, comments which usually make us exchange knowing glances and sometimes cringe.
I don’t know why she entrusted her little secret to me. Perhaps she thinks I am more capable of understanding because I was a UP student too. Sometimes I feel guilty keeping everybody ignorant about it. But what can I do? We share the same belief – that apathy is the worst virus that can attack an individual – only she is more vocal about it.