get rich quick

last tuesday my dad brought me to the casino. it was my first and i felt a certain amount of thrill at finally getting to enter one.

first thing the people at the casino did was confiscate my phone. okay.

then i noticed the atmosphere. the air was thick with smoke, there were two performers onstage doing some commentary and the tables were full.

my dad was standing at the super six table and i gave him my chips. we were just going to bet alongside the players sitting there.

my first set of chips lost. my dad transferred to the other guy and he lost. my dad and i shared a laugh. after all, the chips we were playing with were the ones he had won earlier.

he asked me if i wanted to play some more. i said no. and i meant it.

at first i couldn't explain it. my only exposure (if you can even call it that) to casinos were thanks to movies and television shows. yep. vegas. nothing else. so i was expecting to see a place full of happy gamblers, or at the very least, drunk gamblers and scantily-clad women.

i didn't see that. what i saw was totally at odds with my vegas influenced thinking.

we left, and while we were on our way back to the room, i finally realized why i didn't like it there.

i saw no smiles, except for that of my dad. there was an air of desperation there, almost palpable. or maybe it was just my imagination. it felt like people were there to try for that one big win that would solve their problems. there it was, that quiet plea... just this one time... please... let me win...

i got depressed. good thing my dad didn't want to stay.

i don't think i will ever go back. or if i do, i'm going to the slot machine and i'm going to turn my back on the rest of the people there.

if i'm going to become impoverished one day, it will not be because of gambling.

suso sa nanay

before anybody reacts, i heard that this is the old way of referring to one who goes back to his parents for tlc.

last night i went to the hotel where my parents were staying. they have a seminar at the hotel. as soon as i got there, i changed my clothes, brushed my teeth and snuggled up to my mom.

it felt good, i felt centered and all my worries left me.

this morning they fed me a heavy breakfast, and had me chauffered to work.

this job is my stint at independence. and it took a lot of control on my part to say that i didn't need money when my dad asked.

still, though. the pampering was good.

that's why i'm going back tonight. :)

for adults only. explicit content.

watched the premiere showing of passion of the christ last night. suffice it to say that i went home physically and emotionally exhausted.

got home around midnight and promptly fell asleep. around 2:45 am, i woke up to the sound of the landline ringing.

nobody wants to hear the landline ring at 2:45 am. it calls to mind police, or worse, hospitals. it must have been ringing for some time to be able to jar me from my exhausted sleep.

i rushed to the phone and it sounded like my sister's boyfriend who is currently out of the country. so i called his name. nope, wasn't him.

"hi. i'm just looking for someone to talk to about my problem."

sleepy as i was i became afraid that this guy might be suicidal. so i asked him what the problem was. he said it was difficult to find someone to talk to. he'd been dialling random numbers and i was unfortunate enough to have picked up the phone.

then the next thing he asked floored me.

"are you single?"

what the fuck?

i finally told him that i needed to sleep and i didn't have time for this.

he said he needed to talk about his problem. fine.

me: what's your problem?

"my sleeping problem."

tangina. (pardon me.)

it took practically every ounce of control i had to not slam the phone.

i told him, calmly, that i was going to put the phone down, that he should look for someone else to bother, and that he was selfish and inconsiderate. ( i saw no point in getting worked up and missing more sleep)

he said he will keep on pressing redial (turns out he didn't take note of what he dialled) and was asking me for the phone number so he can call me on an ordinary day. asshole.

i put the phone down while he was talking, switched off the ringer, and went back to bed.

fucking inconsiderate bastard.

ONE!!!!

my blog turned one today. HAPPY BIRTHDAY BLOG!!!

last year i was looking for an article i had read way back in high school, printed in the inquirer. i searched for it and came across a blog. it was this blog.

thought it would be a good idea to start a blog. but then i couldn't get around to doing it. then i got depressed. i needed an outlet. so i started my blog. i was depressed, hence the title.

my first entry was bitter. of course it was! i felt bitter. but then eventually i started blogging about other things, from what i ate for breakfast, to the fat lizards by the window.

liberating, and to a certain extent, it appeals to the "exhibitionist" side of me that wants the world to know what is happening to me, even though i am probably a mere speck in its sphere.

so there.

happy birthday blog. :)

weird event of the day

got to sit inside the bus today. i was sitting beside this big guy. the seat was for 3 but between the 2 of us, there was space left only for half a butt. so we were undisturbed.

somewhere in front of rustan's the guy suddenly takes his shirt off, stripping to his undershirt! i counted to 10, waiting before hitting my panic button. my thoughts:

he has a meeting, he needs to change. there are no changing rooms anywhere. he's late. he needs to change in the bus...

imagine my consternation when he put the shirt back on. i slid a glance at his face. he wore a half-smile. then it dawned on me. he probably realized his shirt was on inside out. hehehe. couldn't stand it maybe.

i just had to smile.

gmrng world!

not being

as young as i used to be.

way back in college i used to go home practically every weekend. i'd leave on friday and get the manila-bound bus at 2 am monday morning. head straight for the dorm, shower, off to class, then the 3 hour training for volleyball in the evening.

went home last weekend. got there saturday morning. left sunday night at 11. i got to the apartment at around 5, slept till 7 then off to work.

found myself dozing off during the day. i felt so tired. when i got home in the evening i slumped in front of the tv, finished watching charmed then went straight to bed. for almost 9 hours. unheard of for me because i usually get only about 6-7 hours, which is more than enough. not that time. woke up tired and feeling heavy. (of course, it could be my weight. still.)

sigh. i guess our bodies can only take so much abuse.

these days i find myself declining invitations to go out at night. i would rather sleep.

maybe i really am getting old.

well at least my body is. hehehe.

feeling model

my brother in law t, is a photographer. when he and my sister m met, and we found out he was really good at what he did, we became willing subjects. ate k and i would pose whenever he needed to test some lights, or some setting, or we'd help out with his shoots. we also did brainstorming with him.



my sister k and i were the most "popular" models. mainly because we were always available, and because we were cheap. lunch was the usual payment. and we thought it couldn't hurt that we had lots of pictures to show off. and it also didn't hurt that he didn't usually charge us. (grad pics were free. :)



a couple of weeks ago my brother in law was in town for a shoot. i decided to have my pictures taken. when asked, i told him it was for my friendster profile. hehehe. honestly though, i just wanted to have my pictures taken. something for my resume, perhaps. or maybe i just wanted to pose. ah vanity.

my sister was there, of course. she did the fixing up, and took care of minute details, depending on the directions of the t. he took about 40 pictures of me, 20 more of my sister, and several of the both of us. plus we had the other guy in the studio take our picture. for posterity. :)



our best pictures were always the ones where we were together. so here. these are some of my favorites from the latest batch. will have to convert the others to digital.

my brother in law is good, yes? :)

footnote

"it should not be assumed merely because the pronouns "he", "him", and the possessive "his" are used extensively throughout this article that the person referred is of the male sex. gender is of no consequemce om ,pst situations referred to herein, and yet the alternatives of using "he/she" or "his/her" or employing the pronouns "she", "her", or the possessive "hers" make for cumbersome prose in the fist instance and in the latter could even be viewed as being more sexist and male chauvinistic than the terms that have been employed."

-Defending Civil Service Employee from Discharge
by Loren E. Mcmaster

hmmmm. i used to have a teacher in lawschool who insisted that we should use the alternatives "he/she" or "his/her". he would throw a fit if we made the mistake of using only the he or his.

i wonder if it really is more sexist and male chauvinistic to use these alternatives.

personally though, i don't take offense if it is the he or his that is used.

food for thought. for those with nothing better to do.

archie

this day ten years ago a good friend of mine died of asthma complications resulting in kidney failure.

these days i find it hard to believe that he's gone. it was much easier to accept back then. now when i think about him, i don't think he's dead. i just think he's gone somewhere where there are no cellphones, no postman and no email.

i remember what it was like when he got sick.

it was a few days before he died. i heard news that he was very sick, in the hospital and his parents were just waiting for him to die. i panicked. i was in manila then, in danger of getting dismissed from the university of the philippines. i couldn't afford to be absent.

so i called a common friend. she said he was fine and that he was just in school a few days before. i breathed a sigh of relief. i had written him letters that morning telling him to wait for me, i will be home soon.

it turns out that the friend i had called had not been going to class and that she had no idea he was sick. i panicked anew.

a couple of days later we got word that he was at the kidney institute. common friends were making plans to go there the following day. since i had class then, i decided to go that very day. march 8.

i remember the ward. there he was, gaunt, bearded. but trying to smile. i had no idea how bad it was. i spoke to his parents before i approached. they told me he had been revived several times already and they were hopeful that he'd be stable enough to survive a kidney transplant. he and his older brother were a match.

i stared. he stared back. then he lifted his hand a few inches off the bed and beckoned me. i finally went near him and held his hand. i had forgotten to bring my letters so i settled for holding his hand. he couldn't speak anymore. he was too weak. but he held my hand firmly.

i smiled. i remember telling him that i had letters for him and that i will bring them the following day. he merely nodded. i asked if he wanted me to stay but he shook his head. after whispering i love you, he squeezed my hand and i left. glad. i was so sure he would be okay.

the following day in class i was writing him about how bored i was in class. certain he would be amused. he had a wonderful sense of humor, archie.

i remember the day he died.

on the way to the hospital, i was with my brother in law who brought the contact prints of this portfolio he made of me. while in the car he kidded me. he said arch might croak when he sees my pictures. ha! i looked so pretty!

at the ward i stopped at the door. there was a little girl in the bed. i turned to the watcher at the first bed. she smiled a sad smile and said "hinintay ka lang."

i froze. surely she can't mean what she said?

things were hazy after that. i remember crying. i remember wanting to look for his body to make sure it was just a mistake. i remember my brother in law trying to comfort me, saying sorry for making that crack about arch croaking.

but all else faded into the background. all i could think about was that it was my fault he was dead. if i hadn't gone to see him, he would have waited some more. and he wouldn't have died.

it was my fault it was my fault it was my fault.

i shook the guilt off eventually.

i couldn't believe he was dead. arch. the guy who had ants for pets. who used to write poetry about whatever. the guy who could spike like a huge person, but who was about 6 inches shorter than me. the guy who never let asthma get in the way. the guy i lay next to on the roof to watch the stars till we were coated in dew. the guy who used to say "i love you snowflake" to me.

but he was. and it was something we have come to accept, albeit with some difficulty. he was 18 years old.

we felt the loss. we grieved. i lived with the grief for months. along with the guilt.

and now it's been years.

i feel him sometimes. talk to him sometimes. knowing he probably can't hear me. but i suppose it's for me. i talk to him to make myself feel better. i talk to him to keep up the illusion that he's alive... somewhere.

it's been 10 years.

but he is remembered. as the guy who once called me snowflake.

waking up

i love waking up. even when i complain that it's too cold, it's too early, i want to sleep some more, yadayadayada. truth is, i love that moment when i open my eyes, and i snuggle deeper into my blankets and just wait for the world to wake up.

this morning was especially beautiful. woke up around 5 and there was light streaming in. i got up and there it was. my moon. (yes, my moon. nobody say otherwise) full, yellow, in a brilliant blue sky. it wasn't completely dark anymore so the blue was more apparent. and the moon had a niche all to itself.

i just had to sigh, wishing i had a camera.

i imagine that it must be sights like this that inspire poetry, music, and stories. sights that throw a coating of fantasy to an otherwise dreary world.

so i got up feeling lighthearted.

and there's a story in my head.

my old friend the floor

yes. the floor.

yesterday my sister finally decided to clean up the apartment. i had been cleaning up when i can but there was so much stuff scattered around, and my valiant efforts failed. it didn't help that i slept as soon as i got home. i kept my room in some semblance of order and it was my sanctuary.

so when she decided to clean up i looked up and said a silent prayer. i cleaned the bathroom. a dirty job but someone has to do it.

she washed the dishes and started fixing her stuff. (dumping it on the dining table. hehehe.) soon there it was. the floor. but filthy.

couldn't help it. swept it. got a mop. mopped it. ah there. my old friend the floor.

i started singing (ala ric segreto) "it's been quite a while...."

she got a rug and we promptly sprawled on it, watching miss congeniality. i only hope the clean floor will last.

next project, my old friend the dining table.

people

one reason i take the mrt, aside from the traffic, is because i like watching people. they're interesting and it's fun wondering what their life is like and making up stories in my head.

this morning, though, i wasn't having fun.

a lady coming along in years suddenly thrust her hand across my front to reach the pole. since i didn't see her at first, i was more than ready to pick a fight. but it was an old lady in a pink blouse. i gave way and let her stand beside the post so she can hold on. a few minutes later i saw her slowly sink to the floor. we held her and a guy sitting down stood up. he had crutches but he gave his seat. we asked her if she was okay and she said she was.

later i saw her crying. so i took the scrunched up tissues in my hand (courtesy of mcdonald's), peeled the one with hot chocolate traces away, and gave her the rest.

i felt so helpless. and i think the guy with the crutches felt the same way. we were both getting off at buendia and she was getting off at taft.

she said she was okay. i hope she is.

in the bus i saw this lady, middle-aged probably. perhaps older. she got off at the same stop immediately before i did. she was walking so slow and she had an umbrella to support her. i held the people behind me at bay so they wouldn't push past her. i stood my ground.

i almost offered to walk with her but she was smartly dressed and i felt that she might be offended, or worse, she might think i'd rob her. i'm wearing a shirt and cords. so i walked on.

i felt anger. i was mad at the world that demanded that people their age should still be working. that they would have to commute and take the train or the bus because they don't have the money for cabs or because the traffic is really bad.

i was outraged that they should have to suffer so. and i hated myself for the moment because i felt i should have done more. i just didn't know what.

i almost lost hope that this country would ever progress. we don't even help each other.

but then i thought about that guy in crutches, bum leg and all, offering his seat.

and i didn't feel so hopeless anymore.

we've moved house

or at least that's what my id says.

yesterday i was late for work. for the first time since i started my job i was late for 20 minutes. i was pissed. but i guess these things happen.

while in the bus i decided to get everything ready so i could just run through the lobby when i got off. so i opened my bag and got my id out.

i happened to glance at the back of the id where they put in the "contact person in case of emergency."

through the haze i saw an address.

234 Bintog
Plaridel, Bulacan

my dad's name was there. we moved?????

there i was sitting in the bus laughing all by myself. it occurred to me that if something happened to me and they sent somebody over to plaridel bulacan, they will never never never find my dad.

still, they got the phone number right. that's something.

sigh. at least that would only be a two-hour drive.

from emman's blog

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 decisions
02. I don't watch much TV these days
03. I love psychodelic mushrooms
04. I love sleeping
05. I have loads of books
06. I once slept in a bathroom
07. I love playing video games
08. I adore marijuana
09. I watch porn movies
10. I watch them with my father
11. I like sharks
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
16. I have changed a lot mentally over the last year
17. I have a jacuzzi and a Porsche
18. I have a lot to learn
19. I carry my knife everywhere
20. I can be really really smart21. I've never broken someone's bones
22. I have a secret - that no one else knows
23. I hate snow
25. Punk rock rules
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
33. I'm pure Japanese
34. My legs are two different sizes
35. I have a twin
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
40. I don't like horror movies
41. I suck at climbing, but I love it anyway
42. People hate me usually - people who give out flyers at malls never approach me
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
50. I live on a ground floor
51. I don't like chocolate
52. I'd like to be more original
53. I've lied
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
58. I love my dog! -
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 -actually my forefinger
72. I should be doing something else rather than doing this -YEP!
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 (apparently too vain too.)
77. I love to read, I read as much as I can
78. I don't trust newspapers79. I like debating
80. I live in a wagon
81. I clean my room once a month
82. I'm scared of american fast food
83. I have a third eye (half-closed)
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
88. I like listening to wind chimes
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 - does a blog count?
94. I can't do cartwheels
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 - i'd like to think i am.
99. I love being "ab-normal" - what's normal?

from emman

my corporate socks

one thing i hated about having to start working was that i wouldn't be able to show up in jeans and rubbershoes anymore. i would have to wear some fairly decent clothes.

fine. i could do that. but i had to compromise. i was never going to wear plain socks. since i'm not going to court anyways, i knew it would be okay. di naman bitin mga pantalon ko eh.

so everyday, there i was, wearing either a a suit or blouse and slacks and black shoes. with scooby-doo socks. or bugs bunny. or a cartoon dog. or a witch. or stars. the deal was, no plain socks.

my boss saw my socks and thankfully she was amused. everyday they would ask me about my corporate socks and i would gladly show them.

today i brought my socks in my bag along with my shoes. since i commute everyday, i wear sandals to work. easier on the feet that way.

i went to the mrt, opened my bag, got on the train. went to the office, opened my bag, passed through reception and went to the office. when i opened my bag, the first things i saw were my socks. white scooby-doo socks with red heels and toes. hmmm.

no wonder the guards had no comment. :)

~~~~~~~~~~
obiter:

a few weeks ago my sister and i went to greenbelt 3. she was feeling bad so we decided to window shop. she was wearing a suit and killer shoes. when we were on the way to the parking area, she flatly refused to walk. i knew she was feeling bad so i decided to be heroic.

i took off my sneakers and gave them to her. and promptly walked the rest of the way to the car in my socks. sure, people stared. but hey. wasn't about to sacrifice my sister's feet for my socks' cleanliness. but only for that day. :)

besides, i've done it before. i walked from the first floor of megamall to the 3rd floor parking area in my socks while carrying my court shoes. comfort first.

and that is why i have happy feet.

just like that...

was in a very bad mood this morning. my sister had class at 8 and i didn't know. i woke her up at 7 to bring me to the station. it was a make-up class so it wasn't in the sked. so she had to take a bath before taking me to the station.

traffic was horrible. there was this idiot in a black and red car that kept swerving into my lane. nearly hit him a couple of times. then i nearly got hit by a jeep. by the time i got to the station i was just about ready to hit something, somebody.

since it was rush hour, the place was packed and i had to let the next 4 trains pass because i was at the back.

my anger stayed while i was in the train. then when the crowd of people eased up, i saw him. he looked good.

this was the guy i almost had a past with, way back in college. he didn't see me so i stared unabashedly, realizing that my mood had lightened considerably. :)

he saw me just as i was leaving the train. said our hellos and gave our smiles. then i stepped off the train.

things were looking up. they still are. :)

can't beat this title

stumbled across a book on sale in national bookstore. the title is.. (drumroll please)

A HEARTBREAKING WORK OF STAGGERING GENIUS.

it's written by dave eggers.

i bought the book sealed, and i thought that since it cost 100.50 (brand new), even if it sucked, it would be a steal.

when i got home i opened it to the dedication page. it said:

THIS WAS UNCALLED FOR.

i liked it immediately.

i may end up wishing that i bought food instead, but then my mom said no books are bad. she's right. no matter how totally useless a book is, it's something to learn from.

i suppose a hundred bucks is not too much to spend on "eddication."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

also bought the god of small things by arundhati roy, indian edition. the cover is green.