Da Bodyguards

Sa di ko alam na dahilan, wala kanina sa hintayan ng jeep ang aking mga teammates sa pag-uwi. Ang nangyari tuloy ay naiwan akong naghihintay ng jeep na sa palagay ko ay dapat nang mabilang sa listahan ng mga endangered species--well at least yung jeep na patungo sa inuuwian ko. Sa gitna ng paghihintay, nakasabay ko ang tatlo kong kaopisina na pauwi na rin. Minabuti nilang maging pansamantala kong “bodyguards.” Medyo madilim kasi sa hintayan kaya pinauna muna nila akong makasakay bago sila nagsiuwian. Hmmm. Gentlemen. Naalala ko tuloy ang isa sa mga nakakatawang karanasan ko sa Los Baños kung saan ako naman ang nagpakabodyguard.

****klililili-lililili-ling……..

Ako at ang kaibigan kong si Leng ay nagmistulang mga bouncer samantalang si Joy naman ang nag-alo sa aming “alagang” si Nikka. Alam mo yung mga panahong gahibla na lamang ng buhok ang supply mo ng pasensya? Nasa ganoong mood si Nikka noon. Kaso yung gahiblang buhok na iyon ay napatid pa dahil sa napakasungit na ale na ayaw kaming pagbentahan ng karayom. So nag Sari-sari Store hopping kami para makahanap ng karayom na gagamitin naming pantahi sa wristband ng mga artista namin sa dulang, “Sundalong Hambog.”

Dalawang bouncer, isang taga-alo, at isang pikon nang babae in search for one needle.

May isang mama na nakapansin sa amin at sa kaibigan naming nagngingilid na ang luha. Buong pagmamalasakit niyang itinuro kami sa tindahan sa tapat, yung may nakadisplay na papaya sa harap. Totoong papaya ha. Perennial product ng tindahan iyon ang papaya. Simula yata freshman ako sa UPLB, nagtitinda na sila ng papaya. Pero ang main merchandise nila ay mga gamit na pang-cross stitch at frames. Nagdedevelop din sila ng pictures. All-in-one nga e. Pwede kang magpa-picture, kumain ng papaya habang naghihintay madevelop ang picture mo at mag-cross stitch muna habang fineframe nila ang picture mo. Ayos!

So ayon bumili si Nikka ng karayom katabi si Joy. Kami naman ni Leng, nakabantay sa labas ng tindahan, sa tabi ng mga papaya, nag-aabang sa sinumang magtatangkang mang-asar pa sa aming kaibigan. Ang tanging sandata lang namin ay ang tig-isang mais na nakatuhog sa barbeque stick. Two-in-one naman ‘yon. Merienda namin na pambambo sa sinumang gagago-gago. Ang lahat nang ito ay nangyari sa Grove, ang kalyeng tumutumbok sa UPLB gate. Bihirang mawalan ng tao sa Grove kaya naman kapag binabaybay mo ito at naisipan mong kahulan ang isang aso nang walang matinong dahilan, hindi ka magmumukahang adik sa iilan lang tao kung hindi sa buong bayan.

At ayun na nga. Nagmukha kaming cartoons sa harap ng buong bayan at wala kaming pakialam. Kahit na drama in public ang nangyari kay Nikka, kahit na nagpaka-alalay si Joy, at kahit na nagpakabouncer kami ni Leng. Ayos lang. At kung hindi ka natawa sa kwento ko, ayos lang din.

COMMENT

solb na ko...ang saya ng krismas gip mo sa akin....isang napalakas na tawa...
i am saved. mabubuhay pa ako.
Posted by: Nikka | December 14, 2005 12:26 PM

Harry Potter and the Goblet of Coke

I don’t drink fire. I drink Coke so don’t ask.

Now, now that intro, same as my last two entries, is powered by anger. And we all know that anger is not a very good source of “literary chi” (a phrase I came up with to refer to the force that drives one to write something that makes sense). Sarcasm maybe a good source of literary chi but anger, never. Therefore I say shoo anger!

I am working on the idea that if I place my fingers on the keyboard long enough, I’d soon regain my literary chi and end up writing something that will capture the past few days of my life so here goes.

The last scabs on my knees brought about by abrasions I acquired from the high tide shore pebbles of Puerto Galera have just fallen off my skin (or should I say peeled off) and yet I have written nothing about the great port.

Perhaps to show how great the port is, I’ll post my favorite photo of Puerto Galera.



I must admit that I am not responsible for this shot. It was my brother who took it while I was, probably, doing some supine float along the coast. It is a shame because after several hours (even extending to two days) of swimming, I never even bothered to ask the name of that body of water I shared with the ocean creatures of Mindoro Oriental and its tourists. And now I feel guilty. Let it be known, however, that the law of conservation of mass--the one which states that no amount of matter is gained or lost during chemical reactions--was defied the whole time I was in that vast sea. Salt water was consumed. (Yeah, I accidentally swallowed some. I excuse you for barfing.) But no even saltier water was emitted in return. I managed not to pee in the said ecosystem so I am sure of its inhabitants’ safety. Going back to the law, the sea lost the water I ingested but, as I have narrated, I failed to replace it which is just as well.

Puerto Galera, specifically White Beach, is not a pristine island. For one, it has electricity and the houses there are made out of concrete. And its natives, with their great tan, have found livelihood in the place’s excellent tourism. There are no signs of them being savages. One word that will describe them, though, is “entrepreneurial.” Nonetheless, Puerto Galera can assure stressed out city boys and girls tranquil time with nature and moments to loosen up with the beat of loud music along its bright and colorful bars.

I have very limited beach experience. In fact I have been to the beach around four to five times in my whole lifetime. (You may feel sorry for me now.) Hence I grew up unaccustomed to bathing with non mammals. Plus I am not the best traveler in the world and often times suffer from motion sickness. But Puerto Galera is worth facing all my weaknesses. I’d close my eyes so I won’t see the fish coming towards me. I’d drink Bonamine so I won’t make any mess on the way. I’d go to Puerto Galera again…anytime I can.

* * *

My trip to Puerto Galera was not just some leisurely trip. I was there to catch up, if not bond with my family, specifically with my sister who’s been away for six months. And now she’s away again and wouldn’t be back for Christmas, or New Year, or Valentine’s Day. I guess this time I’d be Christmas shopping on my own. This reminds me of that time when I sat opposite two ladies, whom I assume were sisters, on my way home. They were exchanging stories about their day’s highs and lows. They were so happy I almost cried. At that instant, I felt how I badly missed my Ate.

* * *

Even though the threat for massive brain drain in our nation has no signs of being contained as yuppies and older professionals continue to leave the country for better job opportunities abroad, there are still foreigners who dare visit our land. The recent prominent one would probably be Constantine Maroulis, an American Idol finalist. He was here to promote the album “Killer Queen: A Tribute to Queen” where he sings his own rendition of the “Bohemian Rhapsody” which according to him is “the greatest song of all.”



I allowed my self be dragged to one of his shows, specifically the one at Greenbelt. Now, I am not really fond of being around big, sweaty crowd in an open space foreign to me but due to my officemate-turned-friend’s contagious excitement, I was able to set my mild agoraphobia aside to enjoy a little night of rock and jazzy music.

I am not sure if it was a divine intervention of some sort or if it was due to sheer fanaticism that my officemate-turned-friend and I were able to work our way through almost really close to that night’s main man. From our pathetic view of the stage on the third floor balcony, we managed to squeeze ourselves to the second layer of the so-called audience. (The layers were a bit thick. Still we were lucky to find ourselves next to “really close.”)

From someone who voluntarily extracted herself from the thick pack of people during the 2003 Octoberfest, I would say Constantine’s abundantly populated mini concert was all right. I swayed and waved, sang and screamed, gazed and chanted. Overall, despite being one of the big, sweaty crowd, I’d thank my officemate-turned-friend for sharing me her fantasy because I really had fun that night. And for that, Constantine Maroulis will be distinctly special to me.

* * *

I would excuse myself from giving an almost scholarly review of the movie “Harry Potter and The Goblet of Fire” even though I obviously exploited its title just now. I am afraid seeing it once is not enough for me to come up with any substantial reaction. The only alibi I can give is “awe.” Watching the fourth installment to J. K. Rowling’s wealth leaves me in awe making me nearly blind to its shortcomings as a story and as a film in general. At that note I will end my piece. I believe I’ve placed my fingers on the keyboard long enough.

GAGa ME

Congratulations to me! I just single-handedly lost a battle which, according to them, never existed.

Apparently my battle cry was gibberish except to me.

I carry my battle wounds, a set of bloated eyes, with sheer embarrassment for it was all for nothing.

I did not emerge anywhere close to being a hero but as the laughing stock of generations to come.

And I dare record my defeat.

Consumer Alert

Babala: Ang pangalan ng mga establisyamentong tutukuyin ko ay hayagan ko na ring babanggitin tutal, blog ko naman ito at mga ka-close ko lang naman ang magbabasa nito. Sa gayong paraan, mailalayo ko sa mga k_pal na kumpanyang ang mga taong malapit sa akin. Sa gayon (ulit) di na sila mabibiktima pa.

Umuusok na ang ilong ko sa Globe Telecom na yan! Dalawang beses kong chinek sa 211 kung paano magpareactivate ng napasong roaming. Ayon sa dalawang nakausap ko sa magkaibang gabi (take note: 2x akong nag-consult sa 211 because I wanted to make sure that I get all the details right), kailangan lang ng minimum na P500.00 load ng roamer tapos tatawag lang ako sa hotline nila para magrequest ng manual activation ng nasabing service. Sabi pa nila, highly recommended nila ang Autoloadmax sa pagrereload. Di man lang nila ako winarningan na by loading through Autoloadmax, sinasubject ko ang precious P500.00 ko sa maagang expiration! Sa buong pakikipagusap ko sa mga operators na ‘to ang bukod tanging sinabi nila sa akin ay maximum of 30 days pwedeng i-on ang roaming na pwede pa ngang ipa-extend ng dalawa pang 30 days. Tapos, inexplain nga nila sa akin yung rule sa “grace period” (yun yung time na di pwedeng i-on ang roaming ng isang handyphone) pero di nila sinabi sa akin na bagaman bago ang mga rules nila ay mag-aaply na ito sa phone na inaaplyan ko ng roaming, therefore di pa pwedeng mag-roaming yung nunber na yon.. Tapos matapos kong magpa-autoload ng total of P500.00 sa roamer ko, doon ko lang nadiscover na di pa pwedeng ipa-on ang roaming ng number na pinaparoaming ko dahil sa “grace period” rule at 15 days ko lang pala mapapakinabangan ang P500.00 at hindi 90 days o at least 30 man lang.

Mga tuso sila! Making great things possible my ass! They misled me by “missing out” on important details sa instructions nila. Mas accurate yatang sabihing na-gancho nila ako. Apat na sunud-sunod na gabi na akong nagfofollow up wala pa rin silang aksyon. Sa bawat follow up ko, kailangan kong irelay, from the start, ang buong kwento ko. Hmp! Tapos limang “please wait for 24 hours” lang ang naririnig ko sa kanila. Mapapamura ka talaga ng Tagalog!

In fairness, never akong nakipag-away sa operators nila. Malumanay (na may kasamang supressed gigil) kong sinabi na di naman biro ang maglabas ng P500.00 tapos di ko sya mapapakinabangan. Lagi akong polite sa pakikipagusap ko sa kanila kahit na nagmumura na ang subconscious ko. May isang nag-attempt mag-console sa akin by saying, “magload na lang po kayo using a call card before ma-off ang roaming.” Ngek! Ano ako?! Tungaw? Nasayang na nga pera ko, magsasayang pa ako ulit? OK lang sila? May isa namang nagsabi sa akin, “Ma’am don’t worry po sure naman pong maaaprove ang special request n’yo for the activation of your roaming service at least bago maexpire yung niload nyo.” Pa’no kung the day before maexpire yung niload ko pa lang ma-approve ang raoming? Don’t worry pa rin? Isang araw ko lang ma-eenjoy yung P500.00 ko, don’t worry?

The thing is, O.C. ako pagdating sa rules and instructions kaya I make sure naiintindihan ko ang isang bagay bago ako magproceed sa anumang gagawin ko. Yun pala malinlinlang ako ng hidden truths from well-trained Globe call center agents. Di ko man lang na sense na may catch ang lahat ng sinabi nila sa akin. Na kaya Autoloadmax ang nirerecommend nila ay dahil mas madaling mag-expire yon at mas mapapabilis ang pagrereload ko. At kaya di nila sinabi sa akin na di pa pala ma-o-on ang roaming ng number na inaaplyan ko ng roaming ay dahil atat na ata na silang magka P500.00. Tama nga naman, magkakapera sila without being obliged to render their services in return. Easy money!

Kung sino man ang may direct line kay Mr. Palengke, I really need your help. Binggo na talaga sa akin ang Globe! Masyado silang manlinlang! Dati nabiktima na nila ako ng promo nila with Hershey’s. Yung you’ll get Hershey’s goodies once you make your first call using your new SIM. But you’ll have to wait for their text and guess what? Di nila ako tinext. Nung nagreklamo ako, sabi lang nila, they can’t give me the goodies because I didn’t receive the text from them. They dismissed immediately after saying that sentence--no apologies whatsoever. Tapos, they kept on sending me ringtones, I never requested which took away P15.00 from me--that is P15.00 for every unwanted ringtone they sent me. Di lang ako ang niloloko nila, lahat ng Globe subscribers din. Isipin mo na lang, di mo ma-cacall ang toll-free customer service (211) nila pag wala kang load. Tama ba naman ‘yon? Is that the way to treat loyal subscribers? Di mo sila mare-reach pag di mo sila pinapa-rich! I can rant forever pero eto na lang ang final words ko para sa Globe, “matakot naman kayo!”

* * *

Di ko akalaing matyetyempuhan ko ang expired food sa anumang kainan sa foodcourt ng Megamall. Natripan kong kumain ng Yakisoba sa Tokyo Teriyaki House. First time ko kumain dun although I am aware na kapatid lang nila ang Tokyo Tokyo. So yun na nga, binigay na nila sa akin yung order ko which was a bit disappointing dahil ang liit lang pala nya compared dun sa nasa picture. Wish ko lang talaga makatapat ng isang customer na mala Micheal Douglas sa movie na “Falling Down” ang lahat ng foodchains. Nag-amok (with baril and all) kasi si Michael Douglas nang i-serve sa kanya ang isang soggy burger gayong sa picture the burger was “plump, juicy and three inches thick.”

Anyway, pwede nang pagtyagan yung yakisoba. Pwede na kung di weird ang amoy nya. Pag tikim ko, maasim sya. I asked my two friends to taste it and they too found it funny. So bumalik ako sa counter medyo parang natatawang ewan yung girl na nagbigay sa akin nung spoiled yakisoba. Dumating naman yung manager to tell me na papalitan nila. After ten years, they gave me my Yakisoba. No sorry came with it pero meron yatang, “Thank you for waiting. Enjoy your meal.”

Great! Tapos nang kumain yung mga kasama ko!

* * *

Syempre another kamalasan na naman ito. Ang totoo nyan, nagmamadali ako kaso, naantala na ako dahil sa ten years-in-the-making na di panis na yakisoba. So medyo mas nagmamadali na ako nang magpunta ako sa National Bookstore (sa Megamall pa rin). May hinahanap akong libro, yung compilation ng “Kiko Machine.” Dumirecho muna ako sa section ng mga humorous comic books. Wala saya doon so I decided to seek help sa customer’s service. Ang tagal kong naghintay kasi nawala sa post nya yung girl na assigned sa computerized hanapan ng libro. Tapos nung dumating sya, parang sya pa ata ang telephone operator kaya mas bumagal pa ang work nya. Eventually may personal call pa sya kaya tumagal ulit. Noong turn ko na para i-serve nya, di na nya chineck sa computer yung book. Excited niyang sinabi sa akin, “Ma’am andun lang po iyon sa Humor section, kasama ng mga Pugad Baboy.” Sinabi ko na kakagaling ko lang doon at wala siya. Sabi nya pa-side ang pagka-stack nung libro and manipis lang ito kaya baka di ko nakita. Syempre pinuntahan ko ulit yung pinanggalingan kong section pero wala talaga yung book. So humingi ako ng tulong dun sa isa pang girl na nag-aayos ng book. Sabi nya andyan lang daw at saka hinayaan nya akong maghanap. Parang close kami! So hanap ako ulit pero wala. Medyo nakahalata na ako na dapat tinutulungan nya ako kaya nilapitan ko sya ulit. Tinanong ko sya, “kanino ba talaga ako pwedeng magpatulong?” Actually, elliptical question yon. Ang buong question is, “since ayaw mo akong tulungan, kanino ba talaga ako pwedeng magpatulong?”

She got a clue and helped me. At bilang pambawi, nagtawag pa siya ng dalawa pang berks to find the holy grail…ay “Kiko Machine” lang pala! Finally chineck na nung girl na assigned sa computerized hanapan ng libro kung available ba yung book. Barabing! Out of stock! Ang galing talaga.

* * *

Malas ba ako? Parang all I’m doing lately is “waiting.” Unfortunately Godot never came sa tatlong stories ko--walang magandang balita sa Globe, walang sorry from Tokyo Teriyaki House, at wala yung libro sa National Bookstore (pati sa Powerbooks--chineck ko na din doon). Being the Zafranatic that I am now, you won’t believe that I once hated her katarayan. Pero ngayon di lang ako naeentertain sa mga kasungitan nya. Naiintindihan ko na where all her rants are coming from. As long as there are people who are not doing their job well--in the case of Globe, (they’re doing their job so well, nagagawa nilang manloko ng tao) people who sacrifices genuine customer concern for fast money--may mga taong magrereklamo and eventually magtataray.

Hindi. Hindi ako galit. Napipikon lang ako at nadidisappoint dahil sa panahon nating ito, akala ko civlized na tayong lahat na nananahan sa mabangis na lungsod.

Yun pala hindi.

Grim Brothers Grimm

What to bring to enjoy The Brothers Grimm:

1. P120.00
2. Mile-long patience
3. Generous supply of sense of humor
4. Zero knowledge on who the real Brothers Grimm were
5. Empty bladder
6. Happy three friends

Now on with the critique:

I did not enter SM Megamall’s Cinema 3 empty handed (if you want to be literal, empty headed). Some time ago, my friend, Nikka, lent me an old copy of the National Geographics Magazine featuring the Brothers Grimm. Since this happened “some time ago” the data in my memory have already started to rust. However, this is what I was able to retain: Jacob and Will were not the only Brothers Grimm. While they were the ones who wrote the tales, their other brother (I’m not sure if it’s “brothers”) did the illustrations for their stories. Unlike in the movie where they hired non-Grimm acting cons, the Grimm business was more family-run in real life. I do not remember reading that they were fraudulent supernatural element slayers. And I never got the impression that the brothers were capable of displaying dumbness in public, even dumbness relative to their time. They may be eccentric--after all coming up with fairytales requires a major thinking out of the box--but eccentricity is nowhere near dumbness. I could not imagine a Grimm saying nonsense because of alcohol intoxication, or snuggling with two women at once, or being dragged in the cobblestone streets of Germany in his sleepwear in the middle of the night. It was really lame sacrificing the brothers’ dignity in pursuit of comedy. I really hope that the producers of the movie have good relations with the Grimm family because the way I see it, they’d have a lot of explaining to do. And if I myself am a Grimm, it would take more than explanations to appease me from the commercial blasphemy done to my ancestors.

I’ve expressed many times my lack of fondness towards Matt Damon. Not that he’s a bad actor, in fact he’s good. I just don’t like his face. Fortunately in this movie, he did not look like his usual self so I would have forgotten that it was him had it not for his Stuck On You (his kambal-tuko movie with Greg Kinnear) acting. (Does he have to do this every time he plays someone else’s brother?) On the other hand, Heath Ledger with his macho voice, accent included, was not his gorgeous self. One, he looked like a balding Eric Quizon, and no woman today thinks Eric Quizon is sexy--maybe some man will but not a woman. And two, he sways too much. If I did not know it was him, I’d think it really was Eric Quizon!

To be fair (This is my attempt to substitute “in fairness.”), I have to say that the movie had its funny points. Unfortunately the lines that were supposed to be funny did not work on the audience that night. The way the majority of the audience reacted (or did not react) to the punch lines was quite disappointing. I had to restrain myself from blurting out loud, “Hey, come on you guys! Matt and Heath are really trying hard here; you could at least laugh! Words can be funny too, even better than slaps.”

The Brothers Grimm would have been full of climaxes had it not for the rising actions falling before even reaching their peaks. Fifteen minutes after the movie begins, a viewer will start searching for an “umph”--something the movie came short of. Bladders can be an accurate “umph” gauge. I, for example, despise visiting the loo in between a movie, this is regardless of how filled my bladder is. But in the case of The Brothers Grimm, nothing kept me still on my seat. No element made me forget my need to pee. And when I did excuse myself for a while, I did not miss anything. It was as if time stopped and the characters’ lives paused, thus nothing big or small happened to them the whole time I was gone.

Not even the movie’s being post modern would justify its constipated climaxes. Angelica (Lean Headly), although pretty, tried hard to project that there was something special about her. She did not enjoy the grandness of her character because by the time her importance in the movie was revealed, she had already lost consciousness (I wonder if it was due to boredom). The same movement was adopted by the film’s other supposedly good points.

Yes the film had visual effects--some great, some too obvious--but hey, we see visual effects everyday! Think telefantasia. Special effects nowadays are just as present and just as important as costumes. If they’re executed well, we say, “wow!” But visual effects no longer work as the major source of “umph.” Visual spectacle ceased being so after Steven Spielberg made three movies starring computer generated images of dinosaurs.

The movies worst aspect can be summed up by this expression which I have to borrow from my officemate, “Them Americans!” I got the feeling that the makers of this film did not care much about the treatment of their characters because they were not Americans. The Germans ended up looking like dugyutin gullible citizens while the French were portrayed as psychotic barbarians. I don’t know what to make of the Germans since they were really oppressed during the Brothers’ time. Their poverty may have resulted in lack of proper hygiene and illiteracy. But then the French could have been barbaric without being psychotic. Just look at Imelda Marcos. She was once barbaric, looting millions of Filipinos billions of dollars, but since in her realm, she never did anything wrong, she managed to project that she was not at all psychotic.

Another “them Americans” moment: You will see that as the movie progresses, it was Heath Ledger’s character that was the more appropriate love interest for Angelica. Of course Matt Damon had to go between them. Probably to entertain myself, I whispered to my friend, “Uy, Dubai! (Aga-Claudine-John Loyd triangle)” Ledger was even the one who administered the kiss the reversed Angelica’s death. But Angelica kissed back Damon instead. Was it because Damon is an American and Ledger is an Australian? Let’s ask the producers who decided to change their minds in the end. Probably to neutralize the Americans-get-the-girl-in-the-end tension, Angelica kisses both Damon and Ledger. I think it was both on the lips which makes it, not redeeming but utterly gross.

What now is the movie’s redeeming value? Of course, they’re the fairytale elements embedded in every sequence. Identifying them feels like answering Alex Quebec’s questions for a hundred or so. And finally, although this has nothing to do with the film, watching the Brothers Grimm would not have been a worthwhile activity if it were not for my three friends to whom I owe this piece: Kistna, Joy and Arjane. The end.

Rare Moments

It is but rare for me to show up on time for my personal, no-business-involved engagements. Last Saturday was one of those moments. I arrived before my friend did at the place where we were set to meet. Then we proceeded on meeting the rest of our friends in which case we came late because we were sidetracked along the way.

The attendance of my friends at our get-together last weekend is pretty much encouraging--seven out of thirteen. More than half made it despite the lack of careful planning and a clear list of our day’s activities. And no one was in a real hurry to leave that I got to spent more than 12 hours with them--something I haven’t done in a long time.

The weather had the most amazing behavior last weekend. You see, the weather almost always threatens my scheduled volt-in with my friends. It must have given up because however bad weather forecasts go, we choose not to mind them anyway.


This reminds me of another set of rare moments. It was rainy in this rare moment but I went on with my spontaneous outing with my berx (yes, that’s what we call ourselves). Despite months, even years, of living in Los Baños, I never got to go on an exclusively-for-berx swim at any of Los Baños’ resorts. Then came that rare day in July when Leng, Joan, and I splashed and screamed in a Los Baños pool. I swear; if you’re stressed out, go for a swim, preferably one with slides--the longer, the better. Forget poise. Push kids aside. Let your ass glide. Scream! The key is letting out your most unpretentious scream. Stress is gone in seconds.

More on that day in July. After the swim, a change in venue was needed in order to regroup with more berx. By this time Kate joined us three and we headed off to Pacita, San Pedro, Laguna via a fully packed jeepney speeding through South Super highway at 8 o’ clock p.m. If you think that is scary, wait till you read this.

We, four travelers, have no idea when to get off the jeepney. Arjane, another berk and native of Pacita told us to meet her at Mc Donald's. (Note to everyone: Food chains and convenient stores do not make good landmarks.) Like the four wise men, we looked at the heavens for that big M sign. Leng and I saw one so we got off, only to find out that such M stands for Mc Donald's Biñan. Ooops, wrong Branch! Up to the jeepney again. Apparently traffic is not exclusive to EDSA. Even the small streets of Biñan (or San Pedro?) have their share of congested paths. And it was as action-packed.

A guy passed by and almost got hit by the red pick-up at the tail of our jeepney. Must be a marathon athlete, I thought. Then came another man, just as fast but was carrying a bag. My heart started to bang. And bang it went--not my heart but a gun. My inference was confirmed because a few seconds later a man carrying a gun appeared and stood directly opposite our jeepney. He fired another shot. Had he lowered the angle of his arm, I would have seen blood that night. A mighty being saved us that night because we survived the trip, found the correct Mc Donald’s branch, reunited with Lowny and Arjane, and slept over at the Hatulan Mansion with all our limbs and organs intact.

Back to the almost present. The day with my berx ended with the movie, The Brothers Grimm. (The promised review for that film is well underway.) We rarely see any movie together. And what do you know? Inside the theater with us was That’s Entertainment’s very own, Jovit Moya! Now that’s rare indeed!

***Count how many times I mentioned “rare” in this article. Text me your answer and win a prize. Text RARE

***WARNING: Prizes do not include anything that will make you rich!

Random thoughts that are 2 weekends overdue

Last weekend I spent at least two hours with four youthful British guys. They are Paul, John, George, and Ringgo. Paul is the pretty boy. He can be naughty sometimes but he manages to execute his mischievousness with the grace of a future “Sir.” John is a bit elusive but he has a subtle sense of humor which is kind of cute. Although he is British, he looks a bit Chinito; it is impossible for him not to look great with an oriental girl. I didn’t see much of George because had sore throat that day, and so he was left inside his hotel room most of the time. However he, too, never failed to make me laugh maybe because he was also funny--and it helps that he looks like Vic Sotto. Ringgo is probably the goofiest among the four. He’d put in all his energy just to elicit laughs. I worry about him though. He seems to have a severe fixation with the oral stage of the psycho-sexual cycle. He couldn’t last a minute without a cigar in his mouth.

What these guys have in common aside from their sense of humor, funny haircut, and British accent is probably their love for music. They even have a band. Collectively they call themselves the “Beatles.” I don’t know if it is a good idea naming yourself after a class of six-legged creatures but I know that they make good music—the band, that is. With the music they’ve created, I’d say their songs will last long, maybe even more than five decades. And they too may outlive their names. They’d probably even set a record as the longest living insect on earth.

* * *

Still last weekend, I braved Katipunan Avenue. (Is it an Avenue?) I never felt welcome in that place. All I see are roads, luxurious cars, and establishments that inarguably make big money. Nothing there makes me feel like I belong—not even Jollibee or National Bookstore. And for some reason, it always rains whenever I’m there! Some force probably thinks I don’t feel the place is hostile enough for me; it exhausts all possible means to drive me away, to make me not like the place. In the stormy, almost flooding sidewalks of Katipunan, I saw something I can relate to: cooked Japanese corn. I smiled and bought five. After two jeepney rides (both rides required minimum fare) and while inside a dry shelter I anticipated consuming my hot cob of yellow corn (of course, I gave away the other four). To my dismay, the hot corn I had at hand was nowhere near yellow. I don’t even think it’s Japanese. The last ticket that would have made me like Katipunan was, for lack of a better term, fraudulent. I’m starting to feel I am not designed to become a Katipunero, at least not any time soon.


* * *

While in the company of girls younger than I am, a critical question which required thorough pondering came up, “how did your first kiss feel like?” Now, that’s a loaded question! It assumes that the one being interrogated had already been kissed. I could have objected to that question and the judge would have sustained my plea. The question circled around the group until it reached me. What is a Josie Gellar to say? “Hindi nag-aaply sa akin ang tanong na ‘yan.” I wasn’t being sarcastic with my answer; I was plainly being honest. And for some reason, I felt like a 25-year-old old maid. Not that I agree that old maids are supposed to be treated like lower life forms (check out my stand in The One That Did Not Make It) but I suddenly felt the stigma brought about by such title closing in on me. I quickly reviewed why, again, despite my silver jubilee on earth, I do not have a REAL guy of my own—thus preventing me from receiving a thimble. Here are my excuses. One, I’ve been a child, oh I don’t know, maybe for 25 years! Like what I’ve said before, not all Peter Pans are boys and not all girls are Wendys. I happened to be one of the special ones who managed to cross the no-growing up-boundaries. Two, I haven’t found I guy I can stand who at the same time can stand me. Three, I don’t believe in courtship—supposedly the first step in building a relationship. I don’t see the point in impressing the wooed party when in the end you’ll show an alternate you, one exactly opposite the entity the wooed party thought you were. Four, I am not well-gifted when it comes to handling sexual tension. (“Sexual tension” is a term used in literature to describe the awkward air between two people coming from two different sexes. It has nothing to do with the sexual act. This is for all the non-literary, green-minded people out there.) Sure I can be friends with guys and carry normal conversations with those Martians, but once “malisya” is introduced you’d see me running away. Maybe it’s not because I am afraid. It’s more of my way of doing the good thing. I swear, I could be the most wicked love team critic and I am especially harsh when it comes to my very own potential love team. God knows I don’t need another set of sins to add to my list. Five, and maybe the last, although I may sound like a bitter, cold, and frigid person by now, I’d still claim I’m a romantic. Ironically, I think that romance is petty and temporary, so I choose to channel my passion to writing and to living. (Yoda's note: No fun, are you?) I’d rather make my life productive. If I get involved with a single person, my passion will be shared by one. If I stay as I am, my passion will be enjoyed by the great majority. I’m going for the nobler option.

I’ll stop now before I say too much.

COMMENT

shitless, bullshit-less attack on the crappiness of courtship. brilliant.
am actually trying to figure it out myself here in non-courtshiplandia. it's either you date me, or you get away from me. right?
hurrah for sexual tension--in the comm arts context, of course
Posted by: Nikka | September 21, 2005 05:19 AM