reunion

I figured I had to do it. I had to face him again so I would know what the score was. I went hoping for a sign. I arrived staring at a billboard. Natural. That's what they are. And honest. Honest as a mother breast-feeding her baby. Honest as the rains surrendering to the earth.

The first seconds were the throat-clearing, shirt-straightening, beer opening, and chair shuffling stage. I was late, as usual. In all things, I am. Things quickly returned to their original pace and still, that honesty.

I felt different, I felt like the villain. But my throat did not tighten, my fists did not clench, my jaws remained the same. No. In fact, I was smiling. But I guess I had that faraway look like I was remembering something and trying to forget it at the same time. He hasn't changed much. But the picture in front of me was different. Now there was someone with him to reciprocate. And the image was so natural, so true. She excelled where I failed. She is what she is and I...I do not know who I am.

The night wound on and I was truly apperciating every moment perhaps becasue there in the middle of talks about bar destinations, TV shows, heart operations, and high school memories, I knew I would go into my zone out mode to say good-bye as I should have done years ago. Goood-bye you guys. It's been great, all those ten years. But I don't want to taint your perfect world any longer.

23,000 dead and counting

I have recurring dreams of me getting caught in a tsunami. They're always to the effect of that scene with Tea Leoni and her dad in 'Sum of All Fears'. But these dreams never finish. They get cut on the part when the wave is overhead ready to crash upon me.

Last month, I received an email informing the public of a possible killer quake that will strike the Philippines before the year ends. Apparently, as one psychic says, it will wash out many coastal areas including La Union. Naturally, I got quite worried. Aparri is a coastal town and is a few meters below sea level. But I do not usually believe in predictions so I shoved the thought away.

And now this. It seems that the psychic prediction came true. Only, the earthquake struck in a different area, a few longitudes west of what was expected.

.

Too many lives have been annihilated just like that. It is scary that one minute you are jogging along the beach then the next you're gone.

Let's pray that relief operations will be executed smoothly with the least politicking possible. Let's pray that the countries affected will be able to bounce back with help from the international community. And in all these, may God's power and love continue to shine through.

packing on pounds...again

When I got to Manila three weeks ago, everybody complimented me for losing so much weight. A friend even had a double take on me and said, 'Teka, nagpa-nose lift ka ba?'. To which I replied, 'Nye. Hindi noh. Matangos talaga ang ilong ko. Lumubog lang yan nung mataba ako.' Wehe. :P Since September, I had been going into the South Beach diet and I had lost a total of 15 pounds. Siempre proud ako noh, hirap din mag-South Beach especially sa start. First day, I thought I was having withdrawal symptoms from sweets. Nanginig kaya ang kalamnan ko. But things got better after a few days and I actually enjoyed not eating any carbs (rice, pasta, breads, and yes, even fruits).

Now, after three weeks in Manila, I am getting fat again. Blast! My people (haha, as if ruler ng Aparri), told me I've grown a little fatter. *Sigh* I just wish I will not be one of those who yo-yo all their lives. I really have to get back to my diet. Tama na muna ng Fruits in Ice Cream. I dunno how to manage religiously sticking to my diet this eating season though. Last last night was my brother Paul's birthday. Last night was my cousin Angie's. Tonight is Noche Buena. O ano? Wala na.

Anyhoo, it was my first Simbang Gabi in our town this morning after a long time. We weren't complete as a family because my dear palikero brother Lloyd wouldn't get up. He spent last night chatting, texting, and calling up girls. Paul said he slept around four. Eh five kaya ang misa. Oh well. Too bad he missed a good sermon.

Today, Father Dennis gained my respect. I didn't think much of him before. Oh I knew he went to Spain to study and all that. But his English isn't all that good. His subjects and verbs do not agree much. If you'd observe me during a mass, you'd discover that I was always repressing a smirk and looking guilty in the process. Smirking at priests during a mass is not a good feeling at all. I think studying at Ateneo and hearing wonderful masses there has put me in a more critical and expecting stance when hearing sermons. I tell you, it is a curse.

Today though, I found myself nodding all throughout Father Dennis' sermon. He kept throwing bombshell after bombshell of reflection-worthy points and he tied these points together into a wonderful thesis. (Magteacher nalang kaya ako ano? Hehe.) It's not that I haven't heard all these before. But good sermons, I think, need not be original. At their best, they are. But a sermon that gets you into a reflective mood throughout the day can be enough.

Wait. I didn't realize that Father Dennis can be quite cute up close. (Haliparot!) I wonder if he's free today to for confession (Haliparot! Haliparot!) I’ll see. I wouldn't want to spend Christmas not being able to receive the Holy Communion just because I didn't attend mass last Sunday. Hmmm… (Haliparot!)

divisoria girl

One can never say that shopping in divisoria is such a breeze. I have been buying stuff in divisoria since I was a kid. Hell, my dad's family even lived a few blocks away from tutuban for more than 20 years and I always slept over and visited DM (Divisoria Mall). Even if I'm used to the locale and used to carrying heavy plastic bags amidst jampacked meter-length hallways, I always always get tired after.

Today was no exception. For the fifth time, my Tita Nitz called me and my Tita Rosa to purchase more stuffed toys and children's dresses for her store in Tugugarao. Again, Tita Rosa and I stifled our groans as the nightmare of having to squeeze ourselves through hoardes of people to buy goods from three different outlets and one bangketa stall began. Putek, wala pa nga kaming kick back dito noh! At the end of the day, we bought three sacks of merchandise and man were they heavy! Why am I even doing this, I kept thinking.

The highlight of the day I must say was when we rode a pedicab from divisoria to a sampaloc bus station to ship all these to the province. There was no cab in sight and the binatilyo of a padyak driver offered his services for PhP 150. We had to agree. Pero tangina, pedicab ba naman nang ganun kalayo! In hindsight though, the ride was fun. We counterflowed twice and rode through sidewalks. Surprisingly, everybody was helpful. I discovered that there's this exclusive secret code of honor among padyak drivers. All is fair in love, war, and pedicab driving it seems. Walang nagagalit kahit na nagsasalpukan sa daan. Tinutulak ang mahihina, hinihila ang nadidisbalanse. When you're in a car, pedicabs always are a nuisance. When you're riding one, your perspective changes. All of the sudden, you see the honesty in the driver's work. All of a sudden he's your hero.

In the bus station, my tita and I even had to haggle for a place in the bus for our goods. During holiday season, they prioritized passenger cargo. Naghanap lang kami sa kakilala para makisuyo. We finished everything by 10 pm exhausted and hungry.

As I ask myself again why I'm doing this, I realize that divisoria has really been part of my life. I love the noise of busy trade. I love the excited murmurs of frantic shoppers. I love a pretty good bargain. Hell, I even love the acrid smell of rotting vegetables and horse dung. And always, there is a sense of achievement after you've traversed the cobblestone streets of divisoria unscathed...that is if you've also managed to get yourself a ride home.

of shoes and men

I have been looking for a good pair of pointy shoes with backstraps for more than a week now to no avail. Just when I thought I’d found the right one, thered always be something wrong with it. Either the fit is all wrong however good it looked, or, the straps are a tad too loose even if the soles fit me perfectly. Sometimes Id find comfortable hideous flats. Other times Id bump into interesting pairs but with heels up so high I couldnt possibly get comfortable with them. Last Monday I spent half a day hopping from mall to mall vowing to find that damned shoe. I ended up so spent and depressed with no paper bag at hand. The funny thing in my experience is that when it comes to buying shoes, the really good ones you’ll chance upon when you arent even looking. The freakin catch is that since you’ve no plans to buy and you haven’t got any money, you do not get the shoe!!!

As I was in the speeding pagewang-gewang jeepney on my way back to my titas condo, too much down in the dumps and irritated at that damned reckless driver, it just hit me from nowhere. Finding the perfect pair of shoes is like finding the perfect man -- totally impossible. No matter what, there’s always something wrong with the shoe or just with your damned overused and under-cared feet. There’s no perfect match. There never will be. And you just have to settle.

That I havent learned to do. And here I am with neither man nor shoe.

stormy days

Twenty one days into Christmas and I'm not feeling the spirit just yet. And it doesn't help that I'm in Manila. These days, home would be chillingly cold. I think I’m beginning to miss that. And to think I was whining my way into Manila just last week. Although Christmas carols steadily drift from LRT station radios, there isn’t that feeling of excitement or anticipation. In fact, I’ve gotten into a very sullen mood.

But today was slightly better. This morning, I went to Ateneo to help out at Task Force Noah, the relief operations organized by some staff and faculty members and some organizations in the university. Since I woke up early for a supposed company orientation (which I did not attend because of the still alanganin weather), I texted Choy AtSCA’s president this year to ask how Task Force Noah was going. He told me that AtSCAns were helping out and that they’d go today at 8 am. At the spur of the moment, I rushed to Loyola House of Studies. I had to do this. Just a little contribution to my foster family in Gabaldon, N.E. and others who have been afflicted by the super typhoons Winnie and Yoyong.

We sorted clothes, packed rice, carried heavy sacks of food packs and plastic bags full of clothes. The atmosphere in the TF Noah headquarters was intense but joyful. You could feel the urgency of the matter and people worked fast, but there is still a sense of fun. People liked what they were doing. Volunteers of all ages were arriving. There were even kids whom parents or ates and kuyas brought along presumably to be exposed to doing things like this. By luchtime the LHS lobby was full of goods but fuller with people who wanted to lend a hand. Choy and I exited knowing they could handle things already and thinking the operations will be more organized and efficient if there were fewer volunteers.

Lunchtime, I met with Toni and we chatted for 2 hrs. I missed how we can talk nonstop about anything but more so, how we can talk about the important things. In those two hours we managed to talk about weight loss, job fulfillment, love and relationships, going for it, the future and education—their facets we haven’t discussed before. Talking with Toni is like eating a pint of ice cream or receiving a really big hug (which she gives truly well by the way). She's my favorite ToniBear. * (^.^) Grin*

***
How the hell could I imagine what to say if I ever see you, but fail to deliver when I finally do? When will I break free of this torpe rut that spills over to so many aspects of my life. Life sucks when you’re not brave enough.