Dinner, etc.

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
10:44pm 02/01/2006
mood: full
music: Frank Sinatra - Girl from Ipanema

The first 26 hours of 2006. Sigh. I haven’t really done anything substantial but at least I’m here, sitting in front of Alunsina, my computer, trying to regain momentum. Ah, the perils of staying with family versus living alone in a distant apartment. My pectoral muscles hurt. I think I injured my chest from all the lifting I’ve been doing to transfer my parents’ books to the library/basement/family room. I have to get a new pair of glasses again soon. I need to sweat off all the pounds I gained from wolfing down everything on the Christmas and New Year buffet table.

I think I am developing a dependency on pre-writing rituals as I have yet to kick off my evening routine: brew coffee, down a glass of water, steaming hot shower, meds, read excerpts from assorted non-fiction books or today’s newspaper, or the latest issue of Time, then remove every article of clothing and finally settle down in my grandfather’s huge office chair so I could begin typing. It’s so debilitating. Now, I find that I can’t just plop down and hammer down on the keyboard. I have to do it in my birthday suit. Well, now I have thoughts of all the naked moments that I could have spent writing but was wasted on men who I couldn’t have cared less for at this point in time. Bah, forget regret.

*********************

For some families, dinner is just a rice and ulam affair, rushed and harried, just trying to get it over with. My grandmother’s family (there were nine children in their brood, my Lola Lusing was the second to the youngest) forbids conversation between mouthfuls. My other grandmother’s family naman is from the type that requires extensive knowledge of navigating through silverware and napkins while the maids wait and look on, beckoned with a single flick of Lola Puring’s wrist for more water or to fetch this dip, blablablah. Basta, everyone’s so strictly formal and restrained during mealtimes. Kawawa.

For my family, dinner is chaos. Heated arguments arise, the salad gets passed around like in a basketball play-off, once in a while, someone gets up to grab more water, or to reheat something in the microwave, or recover something from the ref, answer a phone call, or some other mundane, spur of the moment task. Even the prayer before meals is something to look forward to — that is, if you aren’t too hungry to wait for every single member of the household say grace. When I say household, that means: Mama, Papa, Viday, Ninay, Yasmin, Khalil, Lola Lusing, Tito Tom, the maids and the driver plus whoever our new "adoptee" is (sometimes, this is replaced by the boyfriend/girlfriend/bestfriend of the moment of any of my siblings). By the time we finish praying, everyone’s so famished that the dishes get demolished in seconds (if it’s masarap, it means the cook and the driver are lovey-dovey. if the viand sucks, it means they’ve quarreled for that day).

But the best part of the Verzosa family dinner (aside from the food, especially if it’s Papa manning the stoves) is the opportunity to discuss achievements, pending projects, punitive measures for offending siblings (we have a list of house rules posted in visible areas, it’s so OC) and our respective lovelives (which I’ve been silent on since I don’t have one, fortunately). Last night was no exception. Ninay was discussing her entrepreneurial plans (the topic dovetailed after she told us about her growing crush on her colleague), Khalil was complaining about the pochero being too rich and I was explaining the bumpy areas of my thesis. Mama said something about a trend in the corporate world: saying "it was a lapse in judgment," and, without batting a single mascara-coated eyelash, "I’m [pause] sorry." She said that Ninay should repeat the GMA-ish combo to her crush after his admission of fondness. (Actually, I think the guy is driving my sister nuts as he blurted out something like, "Ninay, alam mo, ang ganda mo. Pero ikaw ang pinaka-antipatikang babaeng nakilala ko!" None of us know what "antipatika" really meant in that guy’s context but I suppose he’s right.)

Anyway, for some reason I can’t quite remember, I said something along the lines of: "if I become the President of the Philippines, I want to be a Science & Technology dictator. I’d allocate hefty sums for the Education budget, for DOST, for DA and other agri/fisheries/forestry agencies, partner with local and international development agencies & NGOs, then put a lot of sectoral representatives in key positions. but the best part of my plan is to slash the budget for National Defense (as in, zero, or something close) and stop paying for international debt servicing. harharhardyharhar!" Sabi ni Niner, "Eh, ate, you HAVE to pay for foreign debt," to which, i smiled sweetly and said, "of course not, Cuba isn’t paying, may economic embargo nga pero so what?! it means, you have a choice naman pala not to be enslaved to IMF-WB forever." Tapos sabi ni Mama, "ok, matutuwa sa iyo mga magsasaka," to which I started singing a progressive song about peasants. Ang saya-saya.

Ok, enough mental gallivanting, I have to work na talaga.

happy new year?!

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
08:12pm 31/12/2005
mood: working
music: Cynthia Alexander - Walk Down the Road

four hours left until this agonizing year ends. here i am, again, in my underwear, i have imprisoned myself in my room with a stash of nasty habits and ridiculous thoughts. in other words, i am spending New Year’s Eve working on my thesis (alas, don’t say bad words!) — a radical departure from the usual evenings of bacchanalian merrymaking and pyrotechnic revelry (hurray for the World Pyro Olympics). i have a six-inch stack of readings and journal articles aside from my other bayong of books and transcribed content beside me. i have several incense sticks lit to mask the odor of Marlboros. i have a fresh pot of brewed kapeng barako (black, no cream, tons of sugar) steaming on my desk. i have a migraine. i think i’ve been liberated from kitchen duties as i specifically asked for privacy tonight.

beginning tomorrow, i will try to:

1. be punctual
2. refrain from eating animals that walk, only those that swim and fly
3. make Chavit Singson’s tobacco empire poorer day by day
4. avoid being in morally precarious situations with species of the XY chromosome pool
5. keep my Globe bill within affordable limits
6. retain something in my bank account
7. minimize procrastination
8. swim at least 2 kilometers per week
9. develop good study habits (ay, stop laughing, gagawin ko talaga!)
10. classify and assemble a formal portfolio
11. back-up my hard drives
12. clean up my balcony
13. paint something bi-monthly
14. volunteer for new NGOs
15. evade unnecessary battles
16. manage time wisely
17. re-establish contacts with long-lost friends and relatives
18. learn how to say NO
19. resume wearing glasses
20. grow spiritually

among other things. sounds like a New Year’s resolution to me. hehe.

for everyone here who made 2005 a fantastic adventure, thank you so much.
for those who made 2005 a version of Dante’s inferno, thank you, too.
for the good Lord who has orchestrated all these in His grand scheme of things, all the credit is yours.

Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Tech Reunion for Ted at Becca’s House

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
06:08am 30/12/2005
mood: contemplative
music: Mozart - Rondo - Allegro Piano Concerto No. 23 K. 488

because Teodoro Angelo "Ted" Umali has admitted to reading my journal entries, i will write as candidly as i can for today.

it is actually 4:51 am right now and I am in my underwear, warding off the chill of December with my nicotine doses and a nice cup of freshly brewed coffee. i just got home from another Tech (the high school I went to had a ’streaming’ function where sections were segregated into either Technology or Science streams, with the former geared towards Engineering electives and the latter for hard sciences. the sorting, without the Hogwarts hat, was done through a Spatial Abilities Aptitude Test where a culturally-biased battery of problems were administered to incoming freshmen to determine if they were smart enough to secure slots in the 2 Tech sections or merely part of the sheep who’d be lumped together in Science. needless to say, the group of people at [info]macbexter’s house were all from Tech save for the token boy/girlfriends who were towed along) dinner to celebrate Ted’s return to the Philippines.

Malou Sabundayo, the birthday girl and future attorney of our batch, and I met up at Starfucks Katips so we could travel to Bex’s together. we were actually quite early (ayy, Filipino time) as only a handful of people were there when we arrived. like any high school, there were certain cliques within each section and ours was no exception to the small group behavior. the celebrant wasn’t there yet so the tables in Bex’s lovely garden were arranged with a light mix of small talk and appetizers. conversation mostly revolved on Wowowee (and their plan to join, ho-hum), the matrimonial designs of our other batchmates, who worked where, who last saw whom, which teachers died, what changes have transpired in Pisay and all manner of eclectic musings to catch up on each other’s lives. the music was great, it was like being in a secluded restobar with a relaxing, very organic ambiance. it was one of the main things that kept my head from wandering off into my own lucid realm.

Finally, at around 11pm, Ted showed up and promptly made the rounds of airkissing and backpatting. I told him that he was the only reason I went to the Tech event as I had been in absentia for the longest time, even if I was in closer proximity than they were. After all, there are many ways to spend a Thursday and last night, I had allotted it for Ted, one of the few people I was really, platonically close to in that arduous, seventh circle of hell monikered Philippine Science High School. Ted, in all appearances, seemed the same — no extra calories, no I’m-a-six-digit-earning-balikbayan-yuppie air, no pretentious name-dropping or a forced Yankee accent… Just the same brand of politically-incorrect humor that comes out so effectively, it doesn’t seem to offend anyone. The best thing I can remember about Ted’s jokes were the ones likening the feeling of being to lazy to get up and extricate oneself from a chair or any reclining substrate as being like sessilized Poriferan phyla (hello, Jessamyn Yazon!). In fact, a lot of my happiest Pisay moments (and there were few, unfortunately) were with Ted and his alternately mean yet stomach-grabbingly funny jokes. I think one of the reasons I survived Pisay, despite my academic lethargy and chronic absenteeism, was his notes and my bestfriend, the photocopier. I hated COCC (the CAT-1 officers’ training for aspiring bullies-in-uniform) but he made it seem all the more entertaining because of its absurdity and meaninglessness. He was the brilliant kid who memorized font-types, who could discuss the salient characteristics of each brand of inkjet printer available in the market, who could sing a tenor piece with all the sharps and flats in the right places. I could go on and on…

Anyway, for all the nastiness he was previously known for, I believe his Christian conversion is something that is an inspiration to me in the sense that it somehow made the concept of a "changed life" more palpable. And for someone who’s always on observer status in these Tech events, I could really feel the change in his countenance compared to the Mentos-personality (tough outside, chewy inside) he had while in high school. He’s now in Stanford U while working in Silicon Valley — I suppose that’s the only thing I ferreted out since there was a Taboo game, people coming and going, people squeezing out a few precious minutes with Ted before heading home. We really didn’t get to talk much this year but maybe, after 365 days, he’d be able to come back to the Philippines for another round of harried bonding over beer and bibingka, lechon manok and Sprite, just as we did yesterday.

So, here’s to you, Ted, my brother in Christ, and thanks for always reading my angst-ridden prose. I hope I made you smile today.

Oh, and Mac finally proposed to Bex so it’s officially MacBexter engagement day. it’s also my parents’ Muslim wedding anniversary today.

TXT:

Kaibigan, araw ng kamatayan ngayon ni Jose. Nawa’y tularan mo siya hindi sa pagpapabaril sa Luneta kundi sa paggamit ng wasto sa oras. maging abala sa mga bagay na makabuhulugan: isauna sina inang bayan at inang kalikasan. Nasa kamay moang pagbabagong inaasam nila Jose. Panahon ng ikaw naman ang maging bayani.ü -Dek Limjoco 23:23:02

anniversaire

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
10:49pm 26/12/2005
mood: uncomfortable
music: Michael Buble - What a Wonderful World

red alert for the AFP and PNP today. after so many years, this is the first Christmas season where the New People’s Army and the State’s fascist instruments of repression were unable to call for a ceasefire. since today is also the anniversary of the Communist Party of the Philippines - Marxist-Leninist-Mao Zedong Thought (PKP-MLKMZ), i won’t be surprised if the non-cessation of armed hostilities would once again splash the major dailies with all sorts of body counts and rounds of spent ammunition. after so many months of becoming politically neutral, i am on the verge of agreeing that indeed, the number one recruiter of potential NPA fighters is none other than the Commander-In-Chief herself, Pres. Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. with the worsening political and economic crisis of her term, m ore and more Filipinos are becoming disillusioned with the government.

===========

3:49 am, day after Christmas, i feel the wood parquet floor beneath my feet and sense that i am once again craving for another session with floorwax and polisher. when I was in LB, whenever I have an important exam coming up, it never fails, I always get the urge to keep my floor spic and span. instead of reviewing the lessons and drafting a kodigo, i’d whip out a mop, a clean rag, a soft broom and bottles of organic mosquito repellent herbal cleaning solution plus floorwax and spend the better half of the evening on my hands and knees, scrubbing. afterwards, i’d arrange my woven Indian rugs in symmetrical positions and check if my floor was pristine enough for babies to crawl on it. I think living in LB fermented my aversion to creeping, crawling and awfully filthy little creatures (ah, yes, including my ex-boyfriends). thus, i’d derive immense satisfaction from depriving them of a potential residence by setting traps all over.of course, the exam wouldn’t turn out perfect as I had to postpone Subjects and instead, resist the urge to delay myself of the gratifying experience of an immaculate floor. hay naku.

A Rejoinder (Patricia Evangelista’s Into the Sound and Fury) A Rejoinder by Sarah Raymundo and Bogart Jaime

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya

rebonglila (rebonglila) wrote, @ 2005-12-20 09:05:00 Current mood: jubilant Current music: Haydn - Finale - Allegro from Concert in E-flat Major A Rejoinder (Patricia Evangelista’s Into the Sound and Fury) A Rejoinder by Sarah Raymundo and Bogart Jaime In Ms. Evangelista’s reply to our blog "Patricia Evangelista: Rebel Without a Clue," she merely reiterated her argument that "political activism is one among many ways to help the country, and that people determine their paths based on personal beliefs and experiences;" and that "[she] make[s] the personal choice not to become an activist." While she insists that her "argument is simple," we think that it is rather simplistic. It would be more convenient to direct the reader to our friendster blog but we decide to restate our positions. It is our argument that the "many ways to help the country" are often antagonistic than complementary as is usually presupposed. Should we perhaps believe that GMA’s effort to help the country through her Strong Republic complements the genuine agrarian reform program advanced by the Left? Her public announcement that she chooses not to be an activist counters the activists effort to arouse and mobilize the broadest number of Filipinos towards an organized movement for national sovereignty and social justice. Without having to allude to this organized movement, she is antagonizing the practice of "activism" which has virtually become a metonym for this very movement. It is perfectly fine to challenge the Left and its claims. It is a remarkable feat for a college coed to problematize the Left. However, we find that her denial of the antagonistic positionalities defeats the very purpose of any meaningful debate on social alternatives. It is curious how appeals for "tolerance" is often addressed to the Left as when Ms. Evangelista says that her column is "an attack on intolerance, in the context of activism." We engage this position since it is not only Ms. Evangelista who assumes it. For how is "tolerance" used in its actual context, i.e. in "multicultural" societies like the USA? The liberals in the US, for instance, address their plea for "tolerance" to their government and policy-makers. Tolerance, in this context, is addressed to those who are in power. It is amusing to have to see columnists demanding "tolerance" from a group that could hardly marginalize privileged voices (of columnists, radio commentators and other media personalities, not excluding some actors in showbusiness). Of course, the Left can always challenge dominant opinions but marginalizing opinion-makers is an impossible act for the Left to do. To think that the Left and the State (institutions and their honchos) wield equal power in the Philippines is a gross miscalculation. Furthermore, it is the least of our intentions to condescend to Ms. Evangelista that she is a "victim lured by the discourse of neoliberalism". While we said that she is "lured by the discourse of neoliberalism", we never painted her as a victim. We argued that she seems to have interrnalized the neoliberal ideology. It is clear to us that the victims of neoliberalism are the peasants and workers from Third World nations who are now protesting the ongoing WTO talks in Hong Kong. We demur Ms. Evangelista’s claim that we condemned corporations and charity institutions. In saying that corporate social responsibility is a conjunctural phenomenon, and a strategy of containment in the context of global monopoly capital, we are not opining that corporate social responsibility must be viewed this way, we are saying it has historically been that way. Given the logic of profit accumulation, we have yet to see Ms. Evangelista’s point that there are two kinds of motives for the setting-up of corporations namely "altruistic" and "purely commercial." We pose that capitalist exploitation can never be negated by "acts of generosity." We concede that there are impoverished individuals who are assisted by charitable institutions. Contrary to her misreading, we did not censure organizations like Gawad Kalinga. We pointed out the limits of charity within the context of global monopoly capital. This is far from dismissing the function of these institutions. We sense a refusal on Ms. Evangelista’s part to analyse poverty, charity, corporations and interests in a systemic light. Rather, these elements are thought in terms of "motivations." We clarify this in the light of Ms. Evangelista’s take that we "speak as if only [us] have the right to dictate the motives of individuals." We do not operate in that mode. We prefer a dialectical analysis of motivations vis-a-vis structures. This is why we find it important to finally reply to Ms. Evangelista’s rebuttal. We feel that it is our task to make it clear that our blog entry was not written as a personal attack. We are reading her arguments as symptoms of "reading history" in a way that legitimizes the dominant social order. To take offense from this symptomatic reading is as good as implying that she is the sole author of her beliefs. Who is ever? Moreover, we are amused at Ms. Evangelista’s cunning in "cutting" our statements and "pasting" them in a manner that is rather self-referential and ostensibly decontextualised. Allow us to cite a an instance: she claims that we called her a "socialite." We made certain formal moves to illustrate the phenomenon that we are assessing, i.e., the hold of neoliberal ideas. In our argumentation, it is formally impossible to isolate elements of our critique of charity via the historical limitations of utopian socialism. It is apparent that Ms. Evangelista’s argument articulates elements of utopian socialism. We even explained how utopian socialists like Robert Owen realized the logical conclusion of charity is a rupture in the social relations of production. Ms. Evangelista’s apotheosis of corporate social responsibility forecloses this very rupture in the social relations of production. As for her grasp of the sentence where the word "socialite" appears, we can only refer the reader to the original text. At this point, it is necessary to address Ms. Evangelista’s assertion that we were the ones who said that Professtor Lani Abad’s statements reek of totalitarianism. We find this as a malicious sleight-of-hand. Furthermore, it is not true that we accuse Ms. Evangelista of being a "megalomaniac." The word "megalomaniac" in our blog entry appears as the first term of a compound noun "megalomaniac fantasies." It is the fantasy that is being referred to. Unfortunately, we do not have the training to diagnose her, or even our very selves of such psychological ailments. Ms. Evangelista rests her whole argument on open-mindedness. We agree that open-mindedness is important in the debate on conflicting alternatives to the current social order. It is Ms. Evangelista’s premise that there could be a coexistence to all of these conflicting alternatives that we find debatable. Besides, how can she claim open-mindedness when she is deploying notions like "extremism" as though the term is not subject to political contestation? If there is indeed "extremism," "terrorism," and "ideological intolerance," then there must be an entity who ascribes these to particular groups. Should we perhaps just accept these labels as defined, for instance, by the U.S. State Department? Although we earlier challenged her notion of open-mindedness, we cannot deny the authenticity of her claim to open-mindedness as when she says, "I believe and respect activists and their contribution to society. Neither do I close the possibility of ever choosing their way." It is in her expression of a dimension of her personality that gives potency to her assertions. We therefore disagree that an erasure of one’s particularity (i.e. personality) is necessary for a debate. That a debate must be confined to ideas is logically sound since "people are not what they do". In pointing out some of Professor Abad’s characteristics, we are simply trying to sculpt the flesh-and-blood from the stereotype of an activist academic. We welcome Ms. Evangelista’s Nietzschean realization: "I’ve always thought my beliefs are strong; it’s only now that I have to fight for them that I can honestly say they are." But the question is, will her strong beliefs be the object of state repression? This year alone (2005) 150 activists in the Philippines were killed on account of their beliefs. Tolerance? How about justice?

———————————————

sorry na lang sa mga fans ni Patricia Evangelista but I love Prof. Lani Abad and I affirm my adherence to the position stated above.

the night before

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
08:45am 19/12/2005
mood: curious
music: Beethoven - Menuetto - Allegro Molto e Vivace from Symphony

december brings drizzle and despair.

not knowing if tomorrow will be an afternoon of passion and accomplishment or merely a half-baked disappointment, i set off to shower and get ready for blissful sleep. after all, everything seems so much better in the morning.

sigh

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
08:44am 18/12/2005
mood: crushed

"Pain is only valuable once you know that you’ve learned from it." –Lilieeye Dhark

thank god, it’s biyernes!

January 2nd, 2006 by vidasoraya
03:44am 09/12/2005
hay naku, hay naku.

"i have no concept of time except that it is flying" - All I Really Want, Alanis Morissette

a lot of Js

November 24th, 2005 by vidasoraya

 

 

   

 

   
02:17am 24/11/2005
   
mood: cheerful
music: Midnite - Meditation (Babylon Fruits)

  6:24 am

Just got home after
another eve to morn exhortation over tea and coffee at Greenbelt 3. ran
into Eleven Dangilan, the cousin of one of my former lovers, who’s
vacationing here after years of working in Brunei after graduation. he
was with his cousin, Giulia Piñeda, another Pisay friend who’s also
bumming around before plunging into the job market. ah, well, times are
indeed a-changing (though I’m STILL an undergrad and my last 3 units of
Macrofuckinomics and thesis are tangible obstacles to my shimmering
academic freedom. was with Jay and JJ, lacerating the air with our
deep-seated angst and long repressed issues. hehe. i suppose we were
just trying to stretch our atrophied brains in an effort to impart
faith, albeit in an edgy way.

Shaddup, Stalker!

November 24th, 2005 by vidasoraya

 

 

   

 

 
02:08am 22/11/2005
   
mood: aggravated
music: Lacuna Coil - Angel’s Punishment

the witching hour is the best time for
ruminating on the events of the day, especially the little foibles
characteristic of human nature.

first,
was my uncanny ability to magnetize dregs of society while riding
public transportation. around 3am, I was accosted by a gregariously
drunk asshole (who wasn’t really bad-looking but he sure as hell was
pesky) who suddenly fancied a conversation of sorts:

Asshole: Anong course mo?
Vida: (silence)
Asshole: Miss, anong course mo?
Vida: (pulls out a book and peers intently at the shaky sentences)
Asshole: taga-UP ka, ano? ako, Criminology sa TIP, ikaw?
Vida: (looks up and returns to book)
Asshole:
Alam mo, natutuwa ako sa iyo, basa ka ng basa! Ako rin, maraming libro
sa amin. Ayan na nga bahay ko, o (points to obscure apartment). Saan ka
ba bababa? Sa dulo ka ba?
Vida: (looks at direction of alleged house) O, bakit hindi ka bumaba?
Asshole: Kasi hahatid kita. Babantayan kita, miss. Anong name mo?
Vida: (reads book again, then goes down at J.P. Rizal cor. P.Tuazon, heading to drugstore)
Asshole: (alights jeepney and follows doggedly)
Vida:
(calls father on payphone for sundo and whispers to pharmacist) Ate,
kapag sinundan ako ng mamang iyan, tumawag kayo ng pulis, ha?
Pharmacist: Boypren mo ba ‘yan? Mukhang lasing, ah?
Vida: Hindi, ‘ no! Sumunod lang sa akin pagbaba ko sa jeep! Ewan ko ba!
Pharmacist and Yosi Vendor: (laughs) eh, hindi talaga aalis yan.
Vida: (calls on payphone again to be preoccupied)
Asshole:
Ganda, huy, ganda! Huy! Huy! Bakit hindi ka namamansin? Huy, ganda!
(puts on shades) Sungit mo naman! (burps) Yan, o, nadidighay na nga ako
dahil sa iyo. huy, ganda, can we talk?
Vida: (pretends to ignore Asshole, talks to Pharmacist)
Asshole: Ganda, saan ba bahay mo? May boyfriend ka na? Can we talk? (moves closer, swaggers a bit)
Vida: (saunters to other side of sidewalk)
Asshole:
Huy, ganda, can we talk? hindi ako uuwi kung hindi mo ako kausapin
(motions to little bench near sidewalk) sige na, dito na tayo, ganda.
Vida: (calls on payphone again)
Asshole: Ganda, sinong hinihintay mo? Sige na, please? Please? Can we talk? (leers and sits on parked car)
Vida:
PWEDE BA? UNA SA LAHAT, HINDI KITA KILALA, LASING NA LASING KA, BUMABA
KA SA JEEP AT SINUNDAN MO AKO, SA TINGIN MO, ANONG DAPAT GAWIN KO?
KARAPATAN KONG MANAHIMIK! NAKAKA-FREAK OUT KA! UMUWI KA NA NGA!
Asshole: Ay, ganun? (sits on sidewalk and looks nauseated) Basta, aabangan kita.
Vida: (runs to approaching vehicle of parent) Papa, bilis, this drunk guy has been pestering me kanina pa! Tara na, bilis!
Papa: Where?! Bugbugin ko o kausapin ko?!
Vida: Ayan, naka-shades at black shirt. Yuck! Basta, tara na!
Papa: (drives by Asshole and raises a fist, threatens him)
Asshole: (looks scared and surprised)

as
we drove away, I looked at the rearview mirror and voila: the asshole
was waving goodbye! Sicko! I’m gonna have to arm myself with pepper
spray again.

*****************

after my ECON101 class,
texted Irene Amatorio for lunch. I was, after all, broke and hungry. I
could feel four cold 5-peso coins in my pocket, my sole treasure for
the day, since my parents forgot about me again when they left early
for work. went to the Advanced Science and Technology Institute in
front of the Math building. talked about all things wise and wonderful
about being a working student (Ryne goes to Law School at night; I have
a part time project). talked about a revolution of the heart and a
heart for the revolution.

*****************

dinner at
Oysterboy Araneta Center, home of the P28 beer and fresh oysters from
the Visayas. was with my former Perspective editor/ resident poet,
Christopher Nuyles. i think i’ve been touching base with so many relics
from the past that it just makes me think of precisely how transitory
things are.