Thursday, April 26, 2007

Burglary Baptism

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.

Wednesday, April 25, 2007

I'm still here

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 CafĂ©. 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... =(

Wednesday, April 04, 2007

1,051,200 minutes

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:
  1. You can’t always get what you want.
  2. Women do not have a monopoly over mood swings.
  3. Prepaid credits matter.
  4. Give your partner/relationship a TREAT -- Time, Respect, Effort, and Trust.
  5. Control your impulses.
  6. It’s not wise to over-intellectualize.
  7. 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...