I've got to pull my act together, so this blog's got to go. I'll return to it at some point I suppose, which is why I'm not deleting it, but I just felt melodramatic enough to announce my departure.
Since I won't be posting here anymore (at least not for a long while), I expect you all to entertain me with frequent updates on your blogs.
Paalam na. Sayonara. Until we meet again.
6/03/2006
Exhaustion
I am so exhausted right now. I just want to crawl back in bed and sleep the whole day, but I'm resisting the urge to because 1) I've already slept for 10 hours, and I know I'll get sleepier if I sleep any more and 2) my job requires me to help someone in about an hour.
Let no one ever, ever tell me that I am a spoiled brat who can't work for crap. My hands are calloused now from all my manual labor - from pushing the red dolly to lifting and catching big brown boxes to washing my clothes, kuskus-piga style (Okay, the last one wasn't for my job. It was just something that I had to do.). And my mind is spinning from all the journal articles that I've gone through since three weeks ago. Business Week may be an awesome magazine, but if you read something like it for eight hours a day, five days a week, you'll probably start associating it with a novel by a dreamer who thinks he can write but can't. Whoa, that was exceptionally angsty.
Yeah, I apologize. I just feel annoyed right now, because I still have to clock in ten hours of research to fill in my weekly (self-imposed) quota and then there's that thing to write and this apartment to clean up. I miss my household help. I wish I could fly them here for just one day. They'll have this place fixed up in no time, guaranteed. But no. I have to fix my own stuff. And heaven knows how absolutely brilliant I am at doing that.
When I was packing up two nights ago, I was so tired and confused that I kept sitting down to take five minute breaks. My friend, who was providing moral support and nothing else, said, "Camille, stand up and get to work. You don't have time to sit around." I glared at him and said very precisely, "Shut. Up."
But you know, I guess that's what I should do. I should shut up and get to work, because whining here won't accomplish anything. But escapism is my clutch, and I think it's way too late to kick that habit now. After work yesterday, I headed off to the lake because I didn't want to go to my new apartment. I like the location and set-up of the new apartment, but I can't bear to be there right now, because the state of it reminds me of my state. Kalat, kalat, kalat. Anyway, I ended up having a one-hour-and-a-half conversation with Abu, a high school friend, who came here after high school graduation, a few months after Mardi, who I was speaking with last week, did.
We talked about a lot of random and private stuff, so I won't say anything of that here. But I just have to share this - I was like, "Abu, are you coming to Northwestern for med school this fall? Miyan and I are trying to convince Gi to take her internship in Chicago so we'll all be near each other." She said, "Nah, I'm not going to Northwestern. I've decided to go to Yale."
Ooh, barracuda! And that's the story of my kick-ass friend. And since I'm feeling really happy for and proud of her now, I'll end this post and attack my bathroom. I guess it's true that good emotions give you energy.
Let no one ever, ever tell me that I am a spoiled brat who can't work for crap. My hands are calloused now from all my manual labor - from pushing the red dolly to lifting and catching big brown boxes to washing my clothes, kuskus-piga style (Okay, the last one wasn't for my job. It was just something that I had to do.). And my mind is spinning from all the journal articles that I've gone through since three weeks ago. Business Week may be an awesome magazine, but if you read something like it for eight hours a day, five days a week, you'll probably start associating it with a novel by a dreamer who thinks he can write but can't. Whoa, that was exceptionally angsty.
Yeah, I apologize. I just feel annoyed right now, because I still have to clock in ten hours of research to fill in my weekly (self-imposed) quota and then there's that thing to write and this apartment to clean up. I miss my household help. I wish I could fly them here for just one day. They'll have this place fixed up in no time, guaranteed. But no. I have to fix my own stuff. And heaven knows how absolutely brilliant I am at doing that.
When I was packing up two nights ago, I was so tired and confused that I kept sitting down to take five minute breaks. My friend, who was providing moral support and nothing else, said, "Camille, stand up and get to work. You don't have time to sit around." I glared at him and said very precisely, "Shut. Up."
But you know, I guess that's what I should do. I should shut up and get to work, because whining here won't accomplish anything. But escapism is my clutch, and I think it's way too late to kick that habit now. After work yesterday, I headed off to the lake because I didn't want to go to my new apartment. I like the location and set-up of the new apartment, but I can't bear to be there right now, because the state of it reminds me of my state. Kalat, kalat, kalat. Anyway, I ended up having a one-hour-and-a-half conversation with Abu, a high school friend, who came here after high school graduation, a few months after Mardi, who I was speaking with last week, did.
We talked about a lot of random and private stuff, so I won't say anything of that here. But I just have to share this - I was like, "Abu, are you coming to Northwestern for med school this fall? Miyan and I are trying to convince Gi to take her internship in Chicago so we'll all be near each other." She said, "Nah, I'm not going to Northwestern. I've decided to go to Yale."
Ooh, barracuda! And that's the story of my kick-ass friend. And since I'm feeling really happy for and proud of her now, I'll end this post and attack my bathroom. I guess it's true that good emotions give you energy.
5/26/2006
On Limping Ducks and Newness
I perched myself on a large rock near the lake. At first, I put my feet on the rock, so I could rest my elbows on my knees. But my feet kept slipping down - either the rock was slippery or my relatively new sneakers had lost their traction. I tried to keep my feet on the rock a few times, but gravity was persistent. I straightened my legs and crossed them. I stopped fighting the downward force and relented. In quitting and giving up, I found peace.
* * *
I saw a brown duck limping after a colorful one. I didn't understand what I saw. Why didn't the bird just fly? It had obviously hurt its leg, so why didn't it just soar into the air and escape from the pain of each step? Was it because of the boy duck? Stupid bird, if that was so. That peacock wasn't even looking at you, birdbrain. I cocked my head and looked at the duck. Hey bird, I said, if I chopped off your head and legs, you'd be a football, and I'll throw you real high, anywhere you want to go, you just name it. But I can't do that, I said. I am not a murderer, and I think you want to live.
* * *
I was talking to a high school friend while perched on that rock. Back in the days, she was my telephone and letter buddy. We'd spend more than five hours talking to each other on the phone and then we'd pass each other letters when we'd see each other in school. But then she left and moved here, and the e-mails were infrequent and far in-between. Now that I am here, she is just a call away again, just like the old days. But in some ways, it is not just like the old days. We're older now, more responsible, and we don't have the luxury of talking on the phone for hours at end. And even if we did, we'd have better things to do with our time. That world-rocking project needs to be turned in, and the clock that is life is ticking away - year after year after year.
* * *
A few months ago, I wanted a guitar. I have a really good guitar back home, but I don't have one here. But that desire passed away, and I never got one. I'm glad. Where will I find the time to strum and pluck those six strings when I can't even attend to my own headful of hair? But I wish the chapel here had a guitar, with nylon strings instead of steel ones, because the steel ones hurt more. That would make me happy, I think. Crap, I think I want a guitar again.
* * *
My friend told me that when you cut your hair, you cut away the bad luck from your life and invite the good luck in. Two Fridays ago, I had more than six inches cut from my hair. I thought I was being symbolic. New phase, new season, new hair, new life. The stage was set for the newness of everything.
But I find now that things are not new. Objectively, they are, but relatively and really, they aren't. I find that newness is a pretense, a promising concept that is entirely absent from reality. How can a day be brand new? Does sleep make a day brand new? So how about those who don't sleep? Or how about those who nap?
Days are not brand new. They carry over from the days passed. When the sun rises, you don't start from scratch. You write on and continue. That's all that you can do, and that's all there is. Newness is imaginary. It's like a fairy tale - you can believe in it and hope, but you can't make it come true.
I saw a brown duck limping after a colorful one. I didn't understand what I saw. Why didn't the bird just fly? It had obviously hurt its leg, so why didn't it just soar into the air and escape from the pain of each step? Was it because of the boy duck? Stupid bird, if that was so. That peacock wasn't even looking at you, birdbrain. I cocked my head and looked at the duck. Hey bird, I said, if I chopped off your head and legs, you'd be a football, and I'll throw you real high, anywhere you want to go, you just name it. But I can't do that, I said. I am not a murderer, and I think you want to live.
I was talking to a high school friend while perched on that rock. Back in the days, she was my telephone and letter buddy. We'd spend more than five hours talking to each other on the phone and then we'd pass each other letters when we'd see each other in school. But then she left and moved here, and the e-mails were infrequent and far in-between. Now that I am here, she is just a call away again, just like the old days. But in some ways, it is not just like the old days. We're older now, more responsible, and we don't have the luxury of talking on the phone for hours at end. And even if we did, we'd have better things to do with our time. That world-rocking project needs to be turned in, and the clock that is life is ticking away - year after year after year.
A few months ago, I wanted a guitar. I have a really good guitar back home, but I don't have one here. But that desire passed away, and I never got one. I'm glad. Where will I find the time to strum and pluck those six strings when I can't even attend to my own headful of hair? But I wish the chapel here had a guitar, with nylon strings instead of steel ones, because the steel ones hurt more. That would make me happy, I think. Crap, I think I want a guitar again.
My friend told me that when you cut your hair, you cut away the bad luck from your life and invite the good luck in. Two Fridays ago, I had more than six inches cut from my hair. I thought I was being symbolic. New phase, new season, new hair, new life. The stage was set for the newness of everything.
But I find now that things are not new. Objectively, they are, but relatively and really, they aren't. I find that newness is a pretense, a promising concept that is entirely absent from reality. How can a day be brand new? Does sleep make a day brand new? So how about those who don't sleep? Or how about those who nap?
Days are not brand new. They carry over from the days passed. When the sun rises, you don't start from scratch. You write on and continue. That's all that you can do, and that's all there is. Newness is imaginary. It's like a fairy tale - you can believe in it and hope, but you can't make it come true.
5/24/2006
The Vampire Rants
I've got a cut near my thumb. I tore the skin some days ago, when I was pulling a box of shirts from a storage room. A new guy had paid for one, and it was my job to give him his due. The carton slipped from my grasp. The open flap sliced my skin. I thought the cut was superficial. It was a gash the size of a staple wire, and it didn't bleed. When I got home, I put a band-aid on it. The band-aid started peeling off after a few hours, and I didn't replace it. Some days after, the cut is still here, still a cut. I wonder if I should have taken better care of it. I thought the cut would go away if I let it be, if I ignored it. I'm looking at it now, and it's glowing pink, like it doesn't have the energy to be a fiery red anymore, even though that's the color it should be. I thought the cut was superficial, and that it'd disappear in no time. Some days after, it's still here. I was wrong about the cut.
* * *
Who decided that the work day should start when the sun start rises and end around nine hours after that? Who is the moron who did that? Yeah, yeah, in the prehistoric days when humans were still entirely dependent on the sun, a system like that would have made a whole lot of sense. But that is not the case now. There are artificial lights, people, lights that are just about as bright as anything up in the sky. I just don't get it.
But yeah, okay, I do get it. We people are social beings that need some system of coordinating our activities to maximize communal wealth. Why that system though? Yeah, yeah, safety and security and being able to strip bare the nasty shadows that lurk in the dark. But the sun can give you skin cancer, you know. That was just a non-sequitur point that I felt like raising.
I don't like this system, honestly. But I feel obliged to tame my psychosomatic agent to adapt to it, because it's just too hard to swim against the tide and change it. It's taking a hey lot of work though. I am a vampire. If I could, I'd wake up at noon and sleep some hours after midnight. But no. I can't do that.
It's been so hard to lay me down to sleep lately. The teddy bear in my bed doesn't help either. His name is Charlie, and he just grins at me when I start complaining about wanting to sleep already. Not helpful at all. But I tolerate the creature because he's cute (and he reminds me of me, of course) and more importantly, because he's not mine and his owner may not be too pleased if I tell her I flushed him down the toilet.
I have to go now and get ready for work. The work from home thing only works if you've got office equipment at home. Tried it for an hour, but I kept looking for things I didn't have, so I was like, what they hey, I'm out of here. Shower time, and then that's 12 oz. of caffeine into my system. I need something to help me get through this day.
* * *
If the two post segments seem incoherent, that's because I wrote them a day apart and posted them in my new blog because I felt this one was getting too cluttered. But I changed my mind and posted them back here, fixing the clutter with a white template. I'll change my mind at some later date. This blog doesn't expire today.
Who decided that the work day should start when the sun start rises and end around nine hours after that? Who is the moron who did that? Yeah, yeah, in the prehistoric days when humans were still entirely dependent on the sun, a system like that would have made a whole lot of sense. But that is not the case now. There are artificial lights, people, lights that are just about as bright as anything up in the sky. I just don't get it.
But yeah, okay, I do get it. We people are social beings that need some system of coordinating our activities to maximize communal wealth. Why that system though? Yeah, yeah, safety and security and being able to strip bare the nasty shadows that lurk in the dark. But the sun can give you skin cancer, you know. That was just a non-sequitur point that I felt like raising.
I don't like this system, honestly. But I feel obliged to tame my psychosomatic agent to adapt to it, because it's just too hard to swim against the tide and change it. It's taking a hey lot of work though. I am a vampire. If I could, I'd wake up at noon and sleep some hours after midnight. But no. I can't do that.
It's been so hard to lay me down to sleep lately. The teddy bear in my bed doesn't help either. His name is Charlie, and he just grins at me when I start complaining about wanting to sleep already. Not helpful at all. But I tolerate the creature because he's cute (and he reminds me of me, of course) and more importantly, because he's not mine and his owner may not be too pleased if I tell her I flushed him down the toilet.
I have to go now and get ready for work. The work from home thing only works if you've got office equipment at home. Tried it for an hour, but I kept looking for things I didn't have, so I was like, what they hey, I'm out of here. Shower time, and then that's 12 oz. of caffeine into my system. I need something to help me get through this day.
If the two post segments seem incoherent, that's because I wrote them a day apart and posted them in my new blog because I felt this one was getting too cluttered. But I changed my mind and posted them back here, fixing the clutter with a white template. I'll change my mind at some later date. This blog doesn't expire today.
5/23/2006
So Much to Say
So it's back to full-time work. More than full-time work, actually, all things considered. And the details stop there. I'd say more, but I know better than to. Which leaves me with nothing to say. Nice.
5/17/2006
Surreal
I have been wanting to ramble for the longest time, but now that I actually have time to do it, I'm not really in the mood. I'll do it anyway, just because. Game. So one chapter closes, and the next one begins. This summer's bound to be interesting, that much I can say. Between the Buffy job and the Giles job, I've got my hands full but my mind free. I'm determined to do everything I want to do. That includes watching one million films and reading even more books, and also finding the time to learn Photoshop and work out. So good luck to me as I attempt to get all that done. Oh, and I should probably make friends too.
* * *
Last Monday, Fati came over for a visit. It was so surreal to see her here. The last time I saw her was last December, when I went home for Christmas. I was showing her around, and it hit me that I have a really bad sense of direction. Well, okay, this is something that I've known since before. Even if my family and I vacation in Baguio often, I still don't know how to get from place to place there. And back home, when my driver-friends ask me which way they should turn after exiting from the village gate, I have to tell them to wait and let me think, never mind that the cars behind us are all tooting their horns. My girls here know that I'm a useless co-navigator. When the driver loses her way, all I can do is stop my chatter and hope that she finds our way back. But yeah, it did hit me that I probably should brush up on my direction skills. Or develop them, I mean - you can't brush up on something that you don't have.
* * *
I watched "Rudy" last night. Now that was another surreal moment. It was filmed in the Notre Dame campus, and it felt funny seeing the prison, in all its glory, being featured so prominently on the screen. (A/N: I call that towering rectangular building with the Touchdown Jesus mural a prison, because I lost two week of my life in there.)
Anyway, I'm happy for Rudy, that he got what he wanted and that his hard work paid off. But that said, I'm glad I'm not a Rudy.
Last Monday, Fati came over for a visit. It was so surreal to see her here. The last time I saw her was last December, when I went home for Christmas. I was showing her around, and it hit me that I have a really bad sense of direction. Well, okay, this is something that I've known since before. Even if my family and I vacation in Baguio often, I still don't know how to get from place to place there. And back home, when my driver-friends ask me which way they should turn after exiting from the village gate, I have to tell them to wait and let me think, never mind that the cars behind us are all tooting their horns. My girls here know that I'm a useless co-navigator. When the driver loses her way, all I can do is stop my chatter and hope that she finds our way back. But yeah, it did hit me that I probably should brush up on my direction skills. Or develop them, I mean - you can't brush up on something that you don't have.
I watched "Rudy" last night. Now that was another surreal moment. It was filmed in the Notre Dame campus, and it felt funny seeing the prison, in all its glory, being featured so prominently on the screen. (A/N: I call that towering rectangular building with the Touchdown Jesus mural a prison, because I lost two week of my life in there.)
Anyway, I'm happy for Rudy, that he got what he wanted and that his hard work paid off. But that said, I'm glad I'm not a Rudy.
5/08/2006
Quack, Quack
Five more units to go, and the 1L chapter of my life ends. That's an interesting thought. It's the most profound thought I've had for the past how many days. I've been studying for finals, and I think my brain's retaliating for all the trauma I'm inflicting on it by rendering me incapable of either understanding simple statements or functioning properly. Case in point: Subway girl says, "would you like that toasted?," I say "provolone," and then I act all confused when she looks at me like I've turned into a carrot. Another example: this morning in the shower, I got shampoo in my eyes, knocked the shampoo bottle over (naturally, because I couldn't see), and then banged my nose on the soap plate when I was bending over to get the bottle. Man, that hurt my nose big-time. And then I hurt my big toe when I tried to kick that bottle over to the side. Oh my goodness. The ruckus I was making. "Don't let me get me. I'm my own worst enemy." Pink wrote those lines for me.
* * *
Unlike finals time last semester, I can't complain about the snow, because there is no snow. Spring is in the air, and the weather has been nice. Of course, I'm not out all that often, and the only time that I do get to see the sun is when I walk to and from the law school, but everything looks green and shiny from the window of my study place. Speaking of the weather, the most un-Filipino thing I've done here is to go outside with two of my friends and lay on the grass while reading for Contracts. Imagine me doing that in the Ateneo quad? Imagine me soaring through the air with a duck on my back?
* * *
Did any of you know that ducks could fly? I honestly had no idea that ducks could fly! Yeah, yeah, I'm a Mighty Ducks kid, and I know that movie line about "soaring high and flying straight" or "flying high and soaring straight." Ay, whatever. I know about the V formation that they used in the movie, but I never really thought that ducks could fly! How scary. Those big fat birds have been all over the campus lately. And then I saw one flying, and it just really creeped me out! What if it lays a balut on your head?! Or two baluts?! Scary thought. But I'd love to see it happening to someone.
* * *
There are so many animals around here. There are small red birds, small blue birds, small black birds, small brown birds, big black birds, flying ducks, hopping bunnies, wombats, raccoons, ostriches, squirrels, chipmunks, swans, dogs, cats, elephants, and monkeys. Just kidding - about the last two. It's a bit unnerving sometimes to see all these animals around me. It makes me feel like I'm in the Singapore Wildlife Safari place, and people are viewing me from their tram.
* * *
I am boring myself with this entry. Until next time then.
Unlike finals time last semester, I can't complain about the snow, because there is no snow. Spring is in the air, and the weather has been nice. Of course, I'm not out all that often, and the only time that I do get to see the sun is when I walk to and from the law school, but everything looks green and shiny from the window of my study place. Speaking of the weather, the most un-Filipino thing I've done here is to go outside with two of my friends and lay on the grass while reading for Contracts. Imagine me doing that in the Ateneo quad? Imagine me soaring through the air with a duck on my back?
Did any of you know that ducks could fly? I honestly had no idea that ducks could fly! Yeah, yeah, I'm a Mighty Ducks kid, and I know that movie line about "soaring high and flying straight" or "flying high and soaring straight." Ay, whatever. I know about the V formation that they used in the movie, but I never really thought that ducks could fly! How scary. Those big fat birds have been all over the campus lately. And then I saw one flying, and it just really creeped me out! What if it lays a balut on your head?! Or two baluts?! Scary thought. But I'd love to see it happening to someone.
There are so many animals around here. There are small red birds, small blue birds, small black birds, small brown birds, big black birds, flying ducks, hopping bunnies, wombats, raccoons, ostriches, squirrels, chipmunks, swans, dogs, cats, elephants, and monkeys. Just kidding - about the last two. It's a bit unnerving sometimes to see all these animals around me. It makes me feel like I'm in the Singapore Wildlife Safari place, and people are viewing me from their tram.
I am boring myself with this entry. Until next time then.
4/22/2006
Multimedia Sharing
I found myself at home this Saturday night, as my friends went to see a movie, and I wasn't up for it. I ate my dinner while watching Harry Potter 4. I stopped the movie after twenty minutes though, because the way they portrayed Hermione was just oh-so-annoying (I'm sure I'll expound on this at some later post, so watch for it). I was surfing mindlessly when my flatmate knocked on my door because she could hear Shakira's "Hips Don't Lie" blaring from my room, and she wanted to tell me that she liked the song. I like the song a whole lot. It's not my kind of music genre-wise, but I like it. Anyway, she had me try this Chinese concoction called 8 Treasures (it's this sweet snack with red beans and seven other things). It was pretty good. We stood around in the kitchen and chatted for a bit. That was fun. We don't talk often, but I genuinely like her because she makes me laugh. After that, I went back to my room and started watching music videos in YouTube. I started off with Bamboo's "Hallelujah," went on to Rivermaya's "Elesi," and ended with the Eraserheads' "Alapaap."
Those were the songs of a few days ago. Right now, my two songs of the moment are Coheed and Cambria's "A Favor House Atlantic" and "Devil in Jersey City." Get the mp3s here. Oh, and do me a favor - listen to the songs and tell me if the lead singer sounds like he looks like this:
Because that's him. I kid you not. See him singing one of their newer songs somewhere in this website. Unbelievable, right? When my friend told me that the lead was a guy, I thought she was telling me that pigs could fly. That was funny. I think my voice is even lower than this guy's! But I like this band. Their music's addictive.
And now to my most important find:
It's a video of the Ateneo campus! (To the Tunay at Totoong Etch-ers: Bahay natin, oh. Haha.) This was the last thing I expected to see on the web. It's a pretty new video too, because it has the new Student Center thing they built in between SEC and SOM. I don't like the "soundtrack." I think that the "Song for Mary" is the type of song that is best sung in Ateneo-La Salle basketball games (I super miss those!) or graduation or things like that. The acoustic version that this guy made doesn't do it for me. But it's not bad, I guess. What a find, yeah? This made me really happy.
And that's it. I just wanted to share.
Those were the songs of a few days ago. Right now, my two songs of the moment are Coheed and Cambria's "A Favor House Atlantic" and "Devil in Jersey City." Get the mp3s here. Oh, and do me a favor - listen to the songs and tell me if the lead singer sounds like he looks like this:
Because that's him. I kid you not. See him singing one of their newer songs somewhere in this website. Unbelievable, right? When my friend told me that the lead was a guy, I thought she was telling me that pigs could fly. That was funny. I think my voice is even lower than this guy's! But I like this band. Their music's addictive.
And now to my most important find:
It's a video of the Ateneo campus! (To the Tunay at Totoong Etch-ers: Bahay natin, oh. Haha.) This was the last thing I expected to see on the web. It's a pretty new video too, because it has the new Student Center thing they built in between SEC and SOM. I don't like the "soundtrack." I think that the "Song for Mary" is the type of song that is best sung in Ateneo-La Salle basketball games (I super miss those!) or graduation or things like that. The acoustic version that this guy made doesn't do it for me. But it's not bad, I guess. What a find, yeah? This made me really happy.
And that's it. I just wanted to share.
Break from the Roller Coaster
Had to step out of the Roller Coaster because my mind is spinning round and round. My head is throbbing so hard that the earth seems to shake with its every pulsing beat. It's not a nice feeling at all, but I know that it'll pass. I'll just take a few deep breaths of air, and then I'll get back on the ride. I chose to get on it, so I'll be staying on it until it stops for good. That much I know. That much I'll do. Okay, the ride is starting again. Yahoo.
4/18/2006
Mahiwagang Elesi
Hindi ako makapag-isip, hindi ako makapagsulat. Nakakainis. Marami akong kailangang gawin (palapit na ang finals namin, shiyet), pero hindi ko naman maumpisahan ang trabaho dahil wala ako sa mood. Susmaryosep. Naisip ko tuloy na magsulat sa Filipino. Oo, kaya ko 'tong gawin, at kaya ko siyang gawin ng maayos. Linggo ng Wika kunwari. At ako raw si Balagtas.
* * *
Hindi, loko lang. Hindi ko kayang magbalagtasan. Baka multohin pa ako rito ni Ginoong Francisco. Maabala ko pa yung kapitbahay kong pari na si John. May kukuwento nalang ako. Noong isang linggo (hindi ko na maalala kung kailan), nakausap ko si Marianne, kaibigan ko noong high school. Nasa Chicago siya ngayon - malapit-lapit na rin dito siguro, hindi tulad ng mga iba kong kaibigan na nandoon ba naman sa kabilang dulo ng mundo, sa California. Nagkuwentuhan kami, nagtawanan. At siyempre, napunta sa boys ang usapan.
Tanong niya sa akin, "So ilan na ba ang mga boys mo dyan?"
Sagot ko: "Ah... wala." At sinabi ko sa kanya na nagpapakamanang ako rito at na si Maria Clara kaya ang kausap niya. Sabi niya sa akin, hay nako, hindi na uso yan ha.
"Manang Maria Clara, live it up! Sige na."
Hmmm, masubukan nga.
* * *
Ubo ako ng ubo noong isang gabi. Exag. Akala siguro ng mga kapitbahay ko na susuka ako ng kalabaw. Hindi lang isa pero tatlo. Ganoon kalala. Pero okay na ako ngayon. Sinisipon pa rin, konti, pero okay na, pagaling na ang bata. Buti naman. Ayoko nang maging Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, at nakalipas na ang pasko.
* * *
Sumisigaw na ang sawa at galit. Gusto kong sumama sa Alapaap. Mahiwagang Elesi, tara na!
Hindi, loko lang. Hindi ko kayang magbalagtasan. Baka multohin pa ako rito ni Ginoong Francisco. Maabala ko pa yung kapitbahay kong pari na si John. May kukuwento nalang ako. Noong isang linggo (hindi ko na maalala kung kailan), nakausap ko si Marianne, kaibigan ko noong high school. Nasa Chicago siya ngayon - malapit-lapit na rin dito siguro, hindi tulad ng mga iba kong kaibigan na nandoon ba naman sa kabilang dulo ng mundo, sa California. Nagkuwentuhan kami, nagtawanan. At siyempre, napunta sa boys ang usapan.
Tanong niya sa akin, "So ilan na ba ang mga boys mo dyan?"
Sagot ko: "Ah... wala." At sinabi ko sa kanya na nagpapakamanang ako rito at na si Maria Clara kaya ang kausap niya. Sabi niya sa akin, hay nako, hindi na uso yan ha.
"Manang Maria Clara, live it up! Sige na."
Hmmm, masubukan nga.
Ubo ako ng ubo noong isang gabi. Exag. Akala siguro ng mga kapitbahay ko na susuka ako ng kalabaw. Hindi lang isa pero tatlo. Ganoon kalala. Pero okay na ako ngayon. Sinisipon pa rin, konti, pero okay na, pagaling na ang bata. Buti naman. Ayoko nang maging Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer, at nakalipas na ang pasko.
Sumisigaw na ang sawa at galit. Gusto kong sumama sa Alapaap. Mahiwagang Elesi, tara na!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)