uprooted, again.

yesterday i found out that i have to clear out my apartment within 15 days. it came as a surprise as i had been looking for someone to house-sit for me while i am away.

i took it calmly at first, then i gave in and cried some.

that apartment is the only other home i've ever known. it was the place where i got a room all to myself, where i could come and go as i please, where i could whip up something if i got hungry, where i could just sit by the window and stare at the fields below.

it's been a year of upheavals, i suppose. and it's not even june yet.

so let me get this straight -- i sold kojak, a car i've been driving for the past 8 or so years, i'm quitting the job i've been in for the past 3 years, and i'm giving up the apartment-- a home i've lived in for the past 6 years.

it's a bit too much to take in but there you go.

i feel a bit lost.

putting it away

yesterday i went through my yahoo message archives, looked for a particular name, then started reading the scant set of messages there. i found myself smiling like an idiot over a chat session about dragons. the same session made me want to cry a bit. some made me laugh out loud, and still others made me want to strangle that person to within an inch of his life.

i went through the lot, i closed the archive, i put it away.

then i said goodbye.

pity. would have been nice to get to know you better.

47 years later....

my parents.

i look at them and i believe there's something suspiciously similar to forever.

happy 47th anniversary mommy and daddy. love you.

i don't ask for much

really i don't. it's simple. i ask you something, you reply. that's not much, right?

i send you a perfectly reasonable question via text or email and you just ignore it. at least acknowledge the question. you don't even have to answer. just acknowledge it.

sigh.

inane question

do you think chickens develop allergic reactions to feathers?

'twas just a thought.

wow

him: that's my soul-searching song
her: really? have you found your soul?
him: yes. when i found you.

quiet time

it's a few minutes before 8 am. am in baguio and everyone's asleep, as people here are wont to do during holidays.

here i am in a wing chair, with my feet up and my laptop on my lap (heck, where else). i can see the sunlight streaming through the french windows from where i'm sitting. i can smell the coffee brewing (our helper is here) and i can hear whatever she's cooking sizzle.

these are the sounds of home. in a while the kids will be awake and will start running around. my dad will be up telling us to go out and vote. in an hour or so we will all be sitting around the round table discussing stuff and most probably arguing about politics and why we should or should not vote for a particular candidate.

home. for the past several years i've been practically a transient here. the clothes i have kept here will fit into a tiny knapsack. i don't have a room anymore and the stuff i left behind here are all packed in boxes.

i've lived in manila for almost 15 years, with a year long break after i graduated in '98 and before i went to law school. and for the past 4 years i've been mostly supporting myself (mostly because my parents and my sisters do hand me stuff when they feel like it).

i have been away from home for so long that i can actually count the friends i have here using the fingers from both hands only. most of my friends here have left for manila, for the us, for europe, basta, for elsewhere.

why am i going on and on and on about this????

i handed in my resignation last friday, and with that, i gave up most of my independence.

so here i am, contemplating my life and the implications of giving up my job.

carlo's awake and so is mommy. breakfast calls.

and i'm taking the kids with me

handing in my resignation today. i feel strange.

just for kicks.

no offense meant. this is what boredom does