Bago Mag-alas Dose

Yikes! Huling araw na ng taong 2007. Mayroon na lang akong kulang-kulang dalawang oras para ihirit ang huli kong blog entry sa taong ito.

Timer starts now!

Rollercoaster ride ang 2007 ko. Mas OK sana kung chubibo ride, at least paikot-ikot lang siya at predictable ang pagtaas at pagbaba ng mga pangyayari sa buhay ko, kaso hindi. At kahit na 365 days akong lulan ng rollercoaster, hindi pa rin ako nasanay. Nasusuka pa rin ako sa mga biglang pagliko ng buhay.

Ayaw kong limutin ang 2007. Kahit na ito na yata ang taong nagdala ng pinakamasakit na insidente sa buhay ko. Pagkatapos kasi ng 2007, papasok na ang taon kung saan opisyal na bawas na ng isa ang mga kapatid ko. I will no longer be able to make new memories with Nichi in 2008. Talagang hanggang 2007 ko na lang siya nakasama. Di na makakahirit sa 2008. Sa panaginip siguro, oo, pero aandar na ang panahon at 13 years old na forever si Nichi—edad niya ngayong 2007.

Madalas ko ngang i-punchline sa sarili ko, kahit magkajowa pa ako at lokohin ako ng sinumang damuhong iyon, no match yon sa sakit na dala ng pagkawala ng kapatid ko. Sa jowa, pwede akong magalit, pwede ko siyang isumpa at kung in the mood ako, pwede akong maghiganti. Pero yung pagkamatay ng kapatid ko…wala akong magawa. Nakakainis na nga minsan e, pero wala naman talaga akong magagawa.

Masukal ang pagkawala ng kapatid ko at madalas pa rin akong multuhin ng mga images nya noong hindi na maganda ang kalagayan niya. Maski sa aspetong iyon, wala akong magawa.

Ang tanging tagapagligtas ko na lamang ay yung bagay na nagpapa-high kay Peter Pan bukod sa balakubak ni Tinkerbell: yung tinatawag na happy thoughts. Good times with Nichi ang bumubura sa aking pagluluksa.

Nanghihinayang ako hanggang ngayon dahil hindi ni Nichi inabot ang pamangkin naming si Nikha Yzabel, a.k.a. biby Yzee. Pinaplano pa naman niya noon kung paano niya papasalubungan ng kung anuman ang magiging pamangkin namin sa tuwing manggagaling siya sa school. Naisip pa niya yon kahit alam naman niya na sa ibang bansa naman titira yung future pamangkin namin.

Ang cute ni biby! Proud Tita ako. Kaya lang di ko pa siya nakikita sa personal. Mabuti pa nga si Jessica Soho, Noli de Castro at Dennis Trillo, nakita ko na in the flesh! Si biby hanggang picture at videos lang. Salamat na lang sa technology, nakikita ko si biby live via webcam. Feeling ko pag nagkita kami sa totoong buhay, baka maiyak ako. Therefore, ka-level niya sina Michael Jackson at Bono. Iniiyakan ng fans.

Ang sense of humor siguro ang isa pang ika nga ay saving grace ko. OK talaga na kahit tragic ang buhay, keri pa ring tumawa. Napansin ko lang nga na hindi nakakatawa para sa marami ang mga punchlines ko. Ako yata ang target market ng jokes ko.

Take this for example, last week nag-Pizza na lang kami para sa noche buena para hindi na kailangan ng effort sa paghahanda. Since malapit lang naman sa amin ang isang pizza parlor, nagtake-out na lang kami ng kapatid ko.

Cashier: (Enters our order sa cash register niya. Titingin sa kapatid ko.) Sir, ano pong pangalan [ninyo] ?

Kapatid ko: (Seryoso) Joseph.

Ako: (Hihirit) Ako naman si Mary. (Maikling pause) Naghahanap pala kami ng matutuluyan ngayong gabi. [Thought balloon ko: Pero hindi ako buntis!]

Cashier: Ano po?

Ako: Wala. Nagpapatawa lang ako.

Pangsitcom sana kung may naka-gets bukod sa akin.

Ehe, basta natatawa pa rin ako, I know I’m gonna be fine. Sana matawa pa rin ako sa 2008.

Putukan na ng putukan sa labas namin. Anak ng— Duwag pa naman ako sa mga paputok! Pag naging makapangyarihan ako, ipagbabawal ko talaga yan. Mangyari kaya iyon sa 2008? Who knows?

Wala naman talagang nakakaalam kung anong mangyayari sa bagong taon. Exciting pero nakakatakot rin. Mixed emotions.

Basta. Good luck na lang talaga sa ating lahat sa 2008.

Lacking in organic unity ang last entry ko for 2007. Nakakahiya. But somehow, it reflects who I am right now: a mess trying so hard to tidy itself up.

Shut up na ako. I’ll let the fireworks make all the noise bago mag-alas dose.

…shutting up…

Christmas Wasn’t Half as Bad

Our Christmas wasn’t half as bad as feared it to be. It’s different alright but it wasn’t awful.

It helped that the oldest of my brothers was determined to keep our Christmas the way it used to be. He put up our Christmas tree four days before Christmas. He even summoned his friends the following day to decorate our sad tree. And they did pull it off. The decorated tree, I mean.



My only contribution to our tree this year is the hanging of a green ball ornament at the center top of our tree. Of course it represents Nichi, our green-color-loving angel.



We went through our usual gift-giving moment but I have to admit that it was undeniably gloomy despite the smile we were trying to display.

We also had our family picture taken.



But there’s something wrong with the picture so we did a re-take.



So that’s our Christmas for this year. It wasn’t half as bad as I expected it to turn out, but I’m positive that I’ve had better Christmases than it.

Oh well…

Christmas Happens

The drawback of having a perfect life is that you don’t realize that in a time where family, love and all things good are romanticized; there are a number of people who find themselves in a less than perfect holiday portrait.

But Christmas happens. There really is no stopping it, hence the existence of less ideal Christmas stories.

Some of us may be in the company of our entire clan but a black hole called long-distance relationship pulls us out of the season’s festivities.

Some are groomed to face the holidays with newly acquired or discovered ailments. Be it chicken pox or lupus, hope is the perfect promise Christmas offers.

Some will do their best to reunite families even if it means spending Christmas in the least Christmassy places like a rehabilitation center.

Some are stuck at work. It brings in extra cash, yes, but work alone takes away the essence of the season.

Some will celebrate Christ’s birth, for the first time, in a foreign land that does not believe in Christ, let alone give a damn about His birth. Meanwhile those who had been in foreign shores for a time now will party this Christmas but will never be able to runaway from the void caused by missing one’s Christmas in one’s homeland.

Then again, some of us are forced to celebrate despite the wounds we are tending, despite our loss, despite our grief.

Because Christmas happens. There really is no stopping it.

One Less Person on the List

Did my last-minute Christmas gift shopping today. Wasn’t psyched about it much unlike my holiday cramming last year.

Plus there’s one person missing on my list. Can’t help but wonder what I would get him if he were still around.

Hope he’s happy wherever he is. Wish he’ll receive a spectacular gift up there.

He deserves it!

I should know.

The First Berk Says “I Do”

Surreal.

Pero totoo talaga. One of my college berks indeed had tied the knot! And I was there to witness the event.

Shucks!

Wala lang.

Syempre I wish the new true-blue couple all the best.


Congratulations to Mr. Dodie and Mrs. Joel!

Line Starts Here

If you are not up for waiting in a long line after another long line, I recommend that you find other ways to get your passport aside from going to the Department of Foreign Affairs (DFA) in Roxas Blvd.

You can pay additional pesos to travel agencies who’ll fall in line for you. Another option is to have your documents shipped right at your doorstep via Air21, 2Go, LBC and the likes. Again that will cost you extra.

But if you insist on securing a passport through the looong and hard way called DFA, don’t say you were not warned. Asserting that, “Mahaba ang pila sa DFA” is an understatement. We’re not talking about a line with 40 or 50 people in front of you. We’re looking at a hundred or more individuals standing in line before you. And the extremely excruciating looong line we are talking about is not something you go through once. There at least five lines you have to contend with where the DFA procedure is concerned.

Therefore, to prevent your severely challenged efforts and patience from being futile, you better make sure you have all correct requirements on hand before braving the series of queues ahead of you.

What are the requirements then?

For first time applicants, those who haven’t had passports issued to them, you’ll need the following:

-A copy of your birth certificate from the National Statistics Office (NSO)
-An NBI clearance for traveling abroad
-Identification cards (I used my SSS ID) and make sure you have them photocopied—front and back—because you cannot submit your real ID to the people of DFA now, can you?
-3 passport-size ID pictures (you can go to the DFA website to know the required
size and background color)

For those renewing their passports, they just have to bring the following:

-old passport
-photocopy of the first three pages of the old passport (this is true to brown passport holders, I don’t know about the green ones)
-Identification cards, again have them photocopied front and back
-3 passport-size ID pictures (you can go to the DFA website to know the required
size and background color)

*For complete requirements, just visit the DFA website.

Simple. Right?

But prepare yourself for more obstacles ahead. The chaos starts the moment you set foot within the proximity of the DFA grounds. Individuals wearing IDs will approach you as if they really were employees of DFA. They will lead you to establishments that outline the DFA perimeter. They will give you application forms for free and act as if you owe them for the free forms. They will scrutinize your requirements and cleverly manipulate you into having your ID picture re-taken because yours does not meet the required size or background color. They will charge you from P155.00 to P165.00 for a picture taken in a badly lit room using a Jurassic model of a class B digital camera. They will hand you a passport jacket like you need one and then charge you for it. They will pull your leg as far as they can just so they’d be able drain whatever peso you have in your pocket.

My suggestion: don’t mind them. Enter the DFA premises right away. JUST GO TO START. GO DIRECTLY TO START. DO NOT LET THOSE BLOOD-SUCKING DIMWITS COLLECT ANYTHING FROM YOU.

You can get your FREE PASSPORT APPLICATION FORMS INSIDE the official DFA grounds. And given the length and number of lines you will be stuck with, you will surely have a lot of time to fill out those forms once inside. Also, DFA has a set of accredited photo stations inside their premises—photo stations that allow free retakes if and when the ones they printed out for you get rejected by the DFA people. There are also “mercenary” photocopiers inside for documents that need to be reproduced. And there are tiny offices that notarize legal documents that need notarizing. These documents usually are for missing whatnots that happen to be in the requirements list.

Bottom line is, whatever last-minute services you might need in getting your passport, chances are, the stalls inside the DFA territories offer them. THERE REALLY IS NO NEED FOR YOU TO TRANSACT BUSINESS WITH THOSE BLOOD-SUCKING DIMWITS WHO POSE AS REGISTERED DFA EMPLOYEES ASSIGNED TO ESCORT APPLICANTS OUTSIDE. [Let’s work together in killing their business. Don’t patronize them, please.]

Now on with the show…

The line starts at the entrance gate where your bags and pockets (or should I say body?) are thoroughly checked. Proceed immediately to the basketball court found at the right side if you take 50 to 70 steps from the entrance. Inside the basketball court you can get the free passport application and you can do your last-minute touch-up where your requirements are concern. Also, in the basketball court, the first official step in securing your passport takes place. The line officially starts there.



First step is the VERIFICATION OF RECORDS. Fall in line to have your application stamped by any of the two unfriendly guys on the “start here” table. Next, fall in line to get to window A. Don’t let the long line scare you because if you chicken out as early as the first step, you will prove yourself unworthy of the DFA adventure. Besides, you will trudge the coiled line that covers half of the basketball court sitting down. At that point, you can thank the heavens for providing you the plastic benches, a covered court, generous breath of fresh air, and for a gradually moving traffic. Next, you go to window B. The line here is a bit short compared to others. After window B, proceed to the line that will eventually lead you to gate 2.

Since the DFA people are trying to avoid human congestion at gate 2, waiting at the basketball court may take a while. Soon, you’ll find yourself moving, leaving the basketball court and actually falling in line outside gate 2. This time, you will have to stand in line which will lead to a room with around 25 to 30 counters. A DFA personnel will then quickly assess your papers and then point you to the counter where you ought to belong. Only then will you be able to sit in another plastic bench that doubles as the line for your particular window. In this room the second step happens. It’s called PROCESSING.

After the second step, you can then advance to the DFA auditorium for the third and forth steps.

Based on experience, the third step is the easiest one with no line at all. And what do you know? It’s the part where you pay! For some reason, DFA is quick in accepting PAYMENTS.

The final step is ENCODING. Now here you’ll experience the line of all lines. You’ll have to start from the back of the auditorium and work your way in front. This is the point of no return. After all, it is the final step. The nice things about being stuck in the longest line of your life inside the auditorium are, one, the place is fully air-conditioned and, two, the plastic seats are ergonomically designed thereby offering more butt and back comfort.

Friendly tip: If and when you feel hungry, decide right away to eat in the DFA cafeteria while you are still at the pathetic part of the encoding line. Try to ask the people sitting next to you to save your spot while you take a quick solid or liquid refreshment. But if you decide to stay loyal to the line till the very end, interacting with your seatmates will most definitely help keep your spirits up and defeat boredom and impatience.

In probably an hour, you’d reach nirvana and be assigned a computer station where a DFA personnel will encode your particulars in their database. Your business there is to check and re-check what they have entered. It is best to be meticulous in this step. Have whatever needs correction altered. Take all the time that you need to read what are soon to appear on your passport. You deserve every minute on your final seat. After all the lines you’ve gone through you know you deserve every minute on your final seat.

When you’re done, keep your receipt. You are going to need it in claiming your passport. Know when your passport will be released. You can ask the DFA people or read the schedule of passport releasing posted anywhere inside gate 2.

If you’re really done, rejoice. After which, pray that your passport will be released smoothly on the date you are supposed to get it.

Treat yourself with a hearty meal afterwards. Or you can go to a spa where you can relax. Pat yourself at one shoulder. You have got to have one fearless soul to emerge out of the DFA premises with accomplished objectives.

Either that or you’re plainly uninformed about how hassle-filled the DFA way is. Or then again, you may be one of the many people in line whose budget is just enough for one’s much needed passport.

In any case, congratulate yourself for your impeccable patience!

*Photos*


The first official line where any of the two unfriendly DFA guys will stamp your papers. It's supposed to be the first step to verification.

The line leading to Window A. You actually start sitting down, you'll know you're near the blessed window when you have to stand up.

A huge framed carpet welcomes you to the DFA auditorium.

A picture of an application form waiting to be encoded.

The ceiling of the DFA auditorium seem to resemble a gigantic space ship. I couldn't help but feel like I'm an alien wannabe [my euphemism for "tourist"] being watched by aliens.

When you've accomplished your mission, the aliens may just as well zap you towards their mother ship. "Beam me up, Mr. Spock!"

To See the World from a Maroon Haltered Long Gown

Actually the world ain’t that different.

Except that your friends suddenly notice that you are umm…uhh…a woman!

And, people, at least those wearing pants, suddenly practice chivalry when you’re around: opening doors for you, helping you get on and off a car, that sort of things.

But aside from those, the world is pretty much the same. My jologs sense of humor remained the way it was and I didn’t emerge without a load of duties albeit my supposed “prettiness.”

Although I have to admit that I am a whiner. I whine, and at most rant, before I act. But I act just the same, even beyond the definition of my title. (Why do I sound like I’m promoting myself? Perhaps because I am.)

Going back…

I would not have worn a maroon haltered long gown if an opportunity did not present itself. But it did. It presented itself in the form of my Ate, my only sister in the world, getting married.

Of course, the obsessive me did not take easily the idea of my sister marrying off even to the man she’s been with for around nine years who also have been a pseudo part of our family for almost that long, too.

I knew that my sister, getting married, would mean I would have to share her, not only to her husband but also to her new sisters (in law) and her new family. However my selfishness would most definitely not stop her from pursuing her decision, her love, her future. Even I with my selfishness and all would not stop her from pursuing her happiness.

And so the day when we all wore gowns came but unlike the rest of us, my sister, the girl two years older than I am, the one who led me and my brother to do semi-nasty things kids do, the one who reminded me that I should start taking care myself when I was denying myself of that thing called puberty, the person who had been my roommate for the longest time, the one who taught me to sing with the aid of a mic, the one who coaxed me to bake even if I was too lazy to bake, the one who sort of informed me that I was no loser therefore I had no business locking myself up in one room and waste time which I should spend in school, my sister, she sported a pristine white gown with a veil hovering over her head leaving a long cathedral trail behind her.

My Ate has become a bride and it suits her so well, I can convince myself she was born to wear that dress.

Yes things will change after the party’s over. The gowns we wore were simply symbols of a celebration brought about those changes. After all they are the happy-kind of changes.

From my corner, I tried to find the courage to accept that in the hierarchy of things which matter in my sister’s life, I will have to take a step back to give way to something more permanent, something more for her than for me. It’s time for such thing to happen.

It’s just the way things are. People grow. They take their own paths. But even if my sister and I choose to stroll down along different avenues, I know we will never outgrow each other.

A year after seeing the world from a maroon haltered long gown, I still continue to bear witness to changes. But despite how our worlds have continued to revolve, life’s really ain’t that different.

Except that my Ate who was once a bride is now also a mom.

And I, her maid-of-honor, is now a Tita to her little angel who doesn’t look bad in her little gown herself.

***Happy first wedding anniversary to my Ate Win and Kuya Wah!***

Waking up with Ate on the big day



My parents escorting my sister to the altar



Me and my newly-wed Ate



How WE wrapped up the celebration of changes


My two-month old niece who doesn't look bad in a gown herself