Laugh with Me Now!

Due to the hilarity of a recent experience, I have to write parts of this entry in Filipino to be able to relate it in its original funny, amusing, and somewhat uproarious state. Have a hoot!

It’s a sad fact that tap water in my apartment is down to nil at times, especially in the morning. So last Saturday, while suffering from painful menstrual cramps, I decided to stay indoors and just laze and bum around. I did a few housekeeping in between dozes, though. But when precious H-2-O came around by lunchtime, I decided to call a friend and invite her to meet me so we can go walk around Robinson’s. We met around 3pm, and off we went to the cool, air-conditioned Robinson’s. Somehow, something funny happened on our jeepney ride to the mall. It’s only a small thing, but I find it very, very funny.

Me: (Yawning) Ang sarap sana kumain ng turon or banana-q, ano? (Roughly: I’m craving for turon or banana-q.)

Friend: Kahapon sabi mo ang craving mo tinola. Ngayon naman, turon at banana-q. Ano ba yan, Clemencia, ha? (You were craving for tinola yesterday and now you want to eat turon and banana-q. What is happening to you, Clemencia?)

Me: (In mega-taray pose.) E bakit ba? E sa naglilihi ako e! (What’s wrong with that? I’m conceiving!)

Hahaha!!! The moment I said that, all passengers turned to stare at me (as if their heads moved in a synchronized motion towards me). And their stares looked as if I’m some kind of an alien or something. Hahaha!!! It could be that they thought I am truly conceiving, or maybe they were thinking I'm hallucinating. Ahahahaha!!!

And so my friend and I couldn’t help but laugh. And we laughed so hard. God, I didn’t know I haven’t laughed in a long time. But it was a chest-wrenching, breath-cutting laugh for both us!

Ah, another one for the books. Hahaha!!!

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Blue

And now I understand.

And I want you to know, I understand.

Two nights ago, I felt tempted to write an entry called Red after talking to Lilia for half an hour. I wanted to write about my anger and my pain because as always, our conversation was far from saccharine. I was so angry, and I wanted the whole world to know how angry I was. And so the familiar feelings from too long ago came haunting me again. I felt hurt, betrayed and violated beyond words.

Then again, in the middle of my throbbing anger, I realized I was being selfish. I realized I was being too inconsiderate. And so despite my pain, I chose to forego the anger and focused on something else. I tried to watch a movie, but Jim Carrey (Bruce Almighty) was unsuccessful in entertaining me. I tried to read a book, but I found Belva Plain too irritating. Finally, at two in the morning, I found comfort in music. I listened to Michael Bublé, Andrea Bocelli, Babyface—until I found myself listening to a recorded concert of Jim Brickman. A song entitled “Change of Heart” played in the middle of the concert with Olivia Newton-John singing to Jim’s piano music.

I was dumbfounded after Olivia and Jim finished the song that I listened to the track once again. I just had to listen to the song again. And so I realized.

While Olivia sang, it was as though she was singing the song to me—for Lilia. Olivia’s gentle crooning became so poignant that it brought me to tears. Tears for all the pain, tears for all the sacrifices, tears for all the memories.

So now I realized that her decision to go away is not just to leave me behind or to spite me. Contrary to how I perceived it before, it is far from being personal.

She did not leave to hurt me or to make my life miserable. Her decision to leave was solely for her children’s welfare. What she did is a mother’s loving gesture towards her children. For what is deeper, stronger and more unconditional than for a mother to lovingly prepare her children’s future?

When Olivia got to the part that says “For years you had been my best friend, I thought that would always be… ‘Cause where I’ll go and what I’ll do I just can’t see my life without you…” I felt like a sharp knife was tearing through my heart because in so many of our conversations, she has repeatedly told me that she cannot imagine her life without me. And I feel the same, no matter what. I will always feel the same.

Towards the end of the song, I could hear her talking to me the day she left, “When I’m gone you might have a change of mind...”

And that’s when I knew. And that’s when I understood.

She knew what the odds were and what the odds now are. And yet she took the risk—the biggest risk—with the hope that I won't have a change of heart—and mind. What I told her then remains today. I never will, Sweetheart. Never.

And so I called this entry Blue. Blue because I feel peaceful. Peaceful now because I understand.

Change of Heart

by Olivia Newton-John and Jim Brickman
(From the album "My Romance: An Evening with Jim Brickman)

I feel that I'm at a crossroads
I don't know which way to go
You say that I am changing
Into someone that you don't know

Who I am and who I'll be
Is locked inside inside of me
And if I follow my heart
Will you still be my friend if we break apart?
How do I make, how will you take my change of heart?

For years you have been my best friend
I thought that would always be
You know that I just can't pretend
It's written all over me

Cause where I'll go, and what I'll do
I just can't see my life without you
If I follow my heart
Will you still be my friend if we break apart?
How do I make, how will you take my change of heart?

Moving on
It's going take some time
When I'm gone
You might have a change of mind
Gotta take the chance
No matter what I find

No matter how far I travel
I think of you as home
It's not about finding someone else
It's all about being alone

Cause who I am
And who I'll be
Is locked inside, inside of me
Cause if I follow my heart
Will you still be my friend if we break apart?
How will I make, how will you take my change of heart?

How will you take my change of heart?

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Another Recap Before Bringing in the Colors

In late March, I purchased my first home appliance. It's a silver Sanyo Star Emerald refrigerator. Great. Not that I don’t have anything else in the apartment, but the other appliances I have are previous purchases while I was living elsewhere. Now that I have my own place, I am slowly starting to buy stuff to make my apartment a home sweet home. Need new curtains, though. Also need a sofa, or a simple, un-upholstered, plain, solid plank of wood as a bench. I also need a decent dining table and a divider for the other room in my apartment which I plan to use as a store area and a work station. Lastly, I also need bookshelves and a display case for my collection of elephants and shotglasses.

As for the earlier part of April, I’m glad to say that I am now finished with my past backlog at the office: survey reports, booklet formats, publication revisions and most recently, I contributed a short article for the weekly which I plan to do on a regular basis. The sheer joy of seeing my written work published is pure joy.

On the 13th, which fell on a Friday, Lily and I celebrated (though we’re continents apart) our 11th anniversary. Hurrah!!! Here’s to us, Tart (*imaginary glass raised for a toast*)! The funny side to our anniversary is the fact that we practically celebrated the event for almost three days. Ahehe. But only because of the time difference between the RP and the US of A.

In the middle of the month, the office rewarded us with an all-expense-paid-for weekend trip to Boracay. Sadly though, on our last day there, I had viral infection that made me weak as a rotten piece of vegetable. I woke up Sunday morning with extremely painful stomach cramps, I was sweating profusely even with the full blast AC, I had a slight fever and—did I mention already—I felt so weak. And so my relief was indescribable when our plane touched down at the Domestic Airport because that meant home—and peace and plenty of rest and lots of sleep.

Then again, the ordeal wasn’t over—yet. Monday welcomed me with skin rashes and something more painful—menstrual cramps. I was beyond consciousness by the end of the day that it is now a wonder how I was able to go home. Tuesday had me crawling towards my GP’s clinic by lunchtime. My hacking cough that morning was enough to send me to my doctor. A combination of menstrual cramps and asthma attack is not something I welcome in this prickling summer heat. And so I was put on a regimen of antibiotics, anti-asthma, anti-allergies, aspirin and high-doses of ascorbic acid for five days. Good God.

And just last week, while barely getting by, I got a text message from Rheea Hermoso-Prudente asking me if I am interested to write an article for the June issue of Masigasig magazine. Rheea said Inez referred me to her. Wow. Almost done with the article now, along with the photo shoot with Sheri Juan.

And that’s my roller-coaster April.

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Red, White, Blue and What Have You

I neglected writing again. And I deliberately did it this time around. For several reasons, though. And these reasons I promise to write about in my succeeding entries with color-full titles.

While browsing through old magazines in my files recently, I came across an article about a person who likes to color code everything in her life—from her files to her shoes to her bathroom—Red, White and Blue. And that article inspired the theme for my new series of entries to follow this short intro.

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I Give Up

(This entry is a repost from my Friendster Blog. Just edited and updated it a bit.)

... how do you say you're giving up the fight?
... how do you accept that the fight is over?
... how do you face defeat?

Yes, I gave up the fight. I just gave it up. But no, i am not going to admit defeat. I gave up the fight because it was not a good fight. I gave up the fight because it was not meant to be.

Yes, I gave up the fight, but I am not a coward. I gave it up not because of fear, or weakness either. I gave up the fight because I chose to give it up. I gave up the fight while I still had some strength left in me to give it up.

I remember a learning experience I share with my seven-year-old niece. She was only six at that time, and new to school. One Sunday afternoon, she started complaining about a classmate who kept pulling and tugging at her ponytails. Typically, my brothers told her to just do the same, to pull at her classmate's ponytails, too. I watched her in amusement as I waited for her childlike reply. I must say that I was expecting her to concede, but alas, I was in for a surprise. She smiled, and proudly said that she can do that, why not, but then it would lead to a nasty fight, and only stupid people do that. Hah. The wisdom of a six-year-old.

So, am I guilty of cowardice when I gave up the fight? I'd say NO. I just took after my niece. I just learned from her six-year-old wisdom.

I just learned the importance of choosing my own battles.

I gave up the fight but I did not give in.

Nunca daré adentro.

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Seven Things that Happened in March

1.

Lost weight. Lost 4 kgs (or roughly 8.81 lbs), especially during the first two full weeks of the month. Doesn't make me happy, anyhow. If I lost weight either because of dieting or working out, then that's fine. But I lost weight because of sadness. Yep. Sadness has a way of 'eating' me. And why am I sad? Well, oh, well... read entry #7.

2.

At 33, my nocturnal asthma has advanced into a strike-anywhere, strike-anytime thing. In other words, it’s a full-blown asthma. Sadness. It used to be occasional attacks, starting with hacking coughs and deep, feline-sounding wheezes that sometimes make me wonder if I’ve really swallowed a cat. And now this full-blown asthma, according to my doctor, can attack anytime and anywhere. Again, according to him, it is caused by various allergens like mites, dust, smoke, and pollen. And on the day I had the most severe asthma attack, I thought I was going to die. The hacking coughs and the wheezing just wouldn’t stop, making it very difficult for me to breathe. I was crying and coughing and wheezing all at the same time. After spending half an hour at an hospital ER for a nebulization, I felt a bit better. And now I am carrying a small turbohaler with me wherever I go. Might as well wear an asthma-alert bracelet. Awww.

3.

On a dark, chilly night, when the sky was adorned by stars, and while standing on a bridge watching cars and people passing by, someone kissed me so sweetly, so deeply, so passionately…

Ah, the memory of that sweet kiss…

4.

On that same cold, chilly night, I got drunk as a skunk on Emperador Brandy. Ha. How brave. How mighty. How… foolish? After gulping six (or is it seven?) bottles of pure, unadulterated, ice-less San Miguel Beer Pale Pilsen, I was on top of the world! Meaning: I could still stand from where I was seated (a good measure of my alcohol tolerance); I could still walk without the drunk-stagger; AND I could still drink s’more. And so I made yabang to my drinking buddies and said, yes, the mighty me could definitely take s’more shots of the golden drink called Emperador. Wahehe. After the nth shot, I could not even wear my eyeglasses. Fuck.

Oh, but did I say I have already consumed half a bottle of Blackberry Merlot before the beer? Ahaha. How lethal can that be? Good God.

5.

Let go of my Nokia N70. For a reason that I do not want to divulge here. So, so, so sad…

6.

In the middle of this month, I became the rightful tenant of Apartment No. 1 somewhere out there in the middle of a quiet neighborhood in Bay, Laguna. It may appear funny to some, irritating to others, that I spent half a day choosing the light bulbs and door knobs for my flat (I’d like to call it a flat). And another half a day buying cleaning aids and basic stuff (clothes hangers, hampers, pail, dippers, basins, soap dishes, dustpan, sweepers, etc.). The meticulous me wanted everything in blue, but then again, I know I can never have everything I want in this lifetime. Ahehe. And so I settled for white whenever an item is unavailable in blue. *Sigh.*

Spent a day moving my stuff from my previous house to my new flat. (Spent entire nights for a week packing all those stuff!!!) Bought new stuff too – bed, dining table, chairs, closets, wall clock, etc. Don’t know where all my money came from for all these things. Wahaha. What is more amazing is the realization that I am capable of doing a lot of things.

Well, now, at least I can:

1. run errands for myself, e.g., pay utility bills, apply for cable connection, etc. (easy pa naman ya-an)
2. clean a house (yes, that’s a fact).
3. make my own bed (used to do it before and so it’s not an earth-shaking fact anymore).
4. sort, wash, hang, dry, and iron my own clothes (waaahhh!!! my hands are now so rough… *sigh*).
5. buy and cook my own food (hmmm…).
6. wake up early in the morning and make my own breakfast (makes me miss Lily so terribly).
7. take care of my own garbage (does this convince anyone now how domesticated I have become?).
8. wash my own toilet and bath (?!@#%$&*!!!!! wtf!!! now this is an earth-shaking fact).
   

Ah, the ills of living alone.

7.

Also, in the middle of this God-forsaken month, Lily, my Lily, left for the US of A. AGAIN.

Now, need I say anything more?

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Double Whammy

Double Whammy - A double blow or setback.
(from The Phrase Finder at http://www.phrases.org.uk/meanings/119750.html)

Here's my Double Whammy.

Among the dozen pairs of footwear stored in my closet, I have chosen, through time, two favorites. One is very dependable, very durable, very flexible. The other is very fancy, very eye-catching, very ultra-modern.

Truly, the contrast between the two is quite enormous and to compare them would be an injustice.

The first pair is indeed very expensive. Made of expensive patent leather, it has stood the tests of time and the rigors of life. Rain or shine, the pair has been my constant favorite. Its durability and flexibility is extraordinary. The shoes could be worn with any pair of jeans: denims, curdoroys, soft slacks, name it. And this pair have been with me for almost half my life! Beat that. It has accompanied me through most of my life. Gone through travels with me, walked with me to faraway places, saw me cry when I was down and beaten, heard me laugh when I am in high spirits. I have always felt confident whenever I wore them.

Last month, however, I noticed scratches on the old, brown leather. Battered through time, the leather began to crack up. I tried to mend them using expensive cleaning materials and adhesives, but to no avail. Last week, I wore them to work again when an asthma attack occurred. And while I was having a nebulization at the emergency room of LBDH, i saw the scratches became gaping tears that can never be mended again. Sadness.

Whammy No. 1: Leather Shoes laid to rest.

The second pair, or, to call it, the "other" pair, came to my fancy only very recently. It is a pair of high-cut red canvass-type sneakers that I have always dreamed of owning since I was a child. And since its sole is rubber, I expected it to be more durable and comfortable than the pair of leather shoes, but alas, I was in for more surprise. They were not.

Two Saturdays ago, as I was trying to wash off the grime and dirt off them, I discovered a hole on the heel part of the left pair. I was very disappointed. So much for brand names and expectations, I guess. So much for show. The red pair is like a hen cackling noisily after laying an egg, so noisy that you'd think she'd laid an asteroid.

Well, I could get a pair of red canvass sneakers again, but after investing on the first, I guess I will have to refrain from buying "sneaks" in the meantime and save up for another pair of patent leather shoes.

Whammy No. 2: Red Canvass Sneakers laid to rest.

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