I Am The Walrus

This year is very revealing to me of what exactly I’m supposed to be doing here on this earth, why I’m here, who I’m here for, and why I was built this way.

Some of us are lucky enough to be many things to many people — a daughter, a sister, a wife, a mother, a boss, a subordinate, a friend. But not all of us are like that. Imagine the stable mental state of this person who can be all of these things at once — she must do a lot of yoga on weekends.

But there are those of us who can’t function in all respects, mostly because one purpose outweighs the other.

Some of us are meant to be just daughters or sons taking care of ailing parents.

Some of us are meant to be just wives and husbands no matter how hard we try to be mothers or fathers.

Conversely, some of us are meant to be just mothers and fathers because we sidetracked the wedding process.

I know of good daughters/sons who are awful wives/husbands.

I know of amazing bosses but are awful parents.

I know of wonderful friends but are awful children.

You want to please everybody but in the end you have to choose who you want to please and who you want to disappoint. In the end, you have to choose who you can lose and who you have to keep.

I am a daughter, a mother, a boss, a subordinate, a friend. Right now. Maybe till I die. I’m starting to feel like I’m fine with that.

(Sent this out to select friends on October 12, Monday, my first day back)

My dear friends,

Nung Sept 26, Sabado, eto ang plano ko sa maghapon — pupunta ako sa Robinson’s Metro East, bibili ako ng stuff para sa spaghetti at ang ina-attempt kong paella (parang redundant ano?) kasi pupunta ang mga ate ko sa bahay kinabukasan. Some of you know how freakishly important my birthday is to me that I celebrate as early as the weekend before and after it, and celebrate it in separate groups — high school friends, college friends, office friends. Parang artista.

Kaka-lunch lang namin nun at dapat maliligo na ko para makaalis. Malakas na ang ulan nun pero dedma lang ako. Inaasar ko pa nga ang nanay ko kasi gusto pa sumama kahit malakas ang ulan. (Ang katigasan ng ulo ay likas sa pamilya namin). Tapos, biglang nagsisigaw yung pinsan ko, si Bojie. “Umaapaw yung drainage ng CR”. Akala naman namin may tubo lang na nasira. Kumuha pa kami ng timba kasi umaagos na palabas ng CR, eh yung kwarto ko at kwarto ng nanay ko (sa mga nakapunta na sa amin) katabi lang ng CR.

Tapos umangat na nang umangat ang tubig. Una, hanggang sakong lang. Naging hanggang tuhod. Hanggang binti. Tumawag na ako kay Tina na diva ng News & Public Affairs Sales para humingi ng tulong. (In fairness kay Tina at sa lahat ng hiningan ko ng saklolo, narinig naman daw ang panawagan sa DZBB tungkol sa Bana

Nakaupo sa sofa ang anak ko, naglalaro ng PSP. Malapit nang umabot sa kanya ang tubig kaya umiiyak na siya. Kinarga ko na siya at iniupo sa 2^nd bunk ng double deck naming. Iniakyat ko na rin mga sapatos ko (lalo na ang gladiator shoes na ilang linggo kong pinakahanap-hanap).

Sa labas, inaangat ng tatay ko at ng pinsan ko ang mga gamit namin. Pero tumataas pa rin ang tubig. Lumalabas-labas ako ng kwarto para tumulong pero umiiyak pa rin si COjie. Samahan ko raw siya. Tumawag na ko kay Telle. Hindi para humingi ng tulong, pero inisip ko, kung kami na ni minsan ay hindi binaha, baka naman sina Telle, na taga-Malabon, eh nasa ilalim na ng tubig. (Yun pala hanggang tuhod lang baha sa kanila). Sa puntong ito, hanggang bewang na ang tubig. Iniyakan ko na si Telle. Nag-panic ata ang anak ko sa pag-iyak ko, kaya umupo na lang kami sa itaas ng double deck at nagdasal.

Makailang beses ako nagyaya sa mga magulang ko na lumikas na kami. “Wag ka nga magpanic”. “Bababa din yan”. Nung dumungaw sila sa labas ng bahay, dun nila na-realize na tama ako. Mas mataas ng one foot ang tubig sa labas, at rumaragasa ang tubig sa kalsada. Hindi na talaga ito basta baha. Flash flood na ito. At hindi na ito bababa.

Binitbit ko ang anak ko na mala-Pasan Ko Ang Daigdig, sinilid ang passbook, passport (sayang US visa), mga relo, make-up at vanity kit (hindi ko alam kung bakit), cellphone at wallet sa isang bag at nagporma nang lumabas ng bahay. Sumunod na rin mga magulang ko, tiya ko, pinsan ko, isa kong pang tiya na naglalaba para sa amin at ang anak niya. Walo kaming lahat na umalis ng bahay.

Sa mga nakapunta na sa amin, maalala niyo na may tatlong hakbang pa pababa ng kalsada mula sa bahay. Kapag bumaba ka sa mga hakbang na yun, lalagpas na sa ulo mo ang tubig. Si Papa ang pinakamatangkad sa amin, kaya binitbit niya ang anak ko sa isang kamay at ang nanay ko na marunong naman lumangoy, inalalayan niya. Si Bojie, inalalayan naman ang nanay niya, ganun din ang tiya ko at ang anak niya, dahil lahat sila marunong lumangoy. Ako hindi marunong. Kumapit ako sa mga grills namin at grills ng kapitbahay para makatawid.

Awa ng Diyos, humuhupa pala ang tubig as you go up the road. Kami pala ang pinakamababa sa street namin. Mga ilang hakbang lang, yung tubig nasa bewang na lang, tapos tuhod, tapos binti, hanggang sa wala nang tubig.

May isang tindahan na kumupkop sa amin. NIlabas namin mga telepono namin — sa limang dala namin, isa na lang ang gumagana. Kanya-kanya na kaming SOS sa mga kakilala, palitan lang ng SIM.

Pagkatapos lang ng isang oras, hanggang tuhod na din ang tubig sa tinuluyan namin kaya napilitan na naman kaming umalis dun. (Pati yung tinutuluyan namin, lumikas na rin). Nakahanap kami ng bahay na hanggang 3^rd floor. Siguro mga 20 families na ang kinukupkop nila.

Parang bumagal ang oras. Basang-basa kami, kami ng pinsan ko walang tsinelas. Naghihikahos na rin ang kaisa-isang cellphone namin. Pag medyo natutulala, naalala namin lahat ng bagay na hindi na namin nailigtas. Ang tatay ko, sumilip sa bahay namin, wala na, lubog na. Bubong na lang ang kita. Pilit pa niyang inaangat ang kotse niya sa medyo mababang tubig pero wala, lubog na rin ang kalahati.

Sa puntong ito, dalawang bagay lang ang hinihintay ng may 100-200 katao sa Armel 3 Subd ng Banaba, San Mateo. (A) Rescue o (B) Humupa ang baha. Pagkatapos ng apat o limang oras na paghihintay, na-realize namin na hopeless na ang rescue. Inabangan na lang namin na humupa ang baha. Kapag medyo tumitila ang ulan, at bumaba lang ng konti ang baha, sugod kaming pamilya. Tatlong bahay din ang tinuluyan namin na nagbigay ng damit at pagkain sa amin.

Inabutan na kami ng dilim. Napadpad kami sa lugar na wala nang baha pero lahat ng ruta palabas ng highway, either lampas tao pa ang baha o rumaragasa ang tubig. Palitan kami ng tatay ko, ako at ng pinsan ko ng pagpunta sa tanging daan papuntang highway na dadaanan namin. Kaso mo, may creek ka na tatawirin papuntang highway na lampas tao pa raw ang tubig.

Alas-diyes na ng gabi nang bumalik ang tatay ko sa tinutuluyan namin at sinabing hanggang bewang na lang ang baha sa creek. Rumaragasa pa rin ang tubig pero at least kaya nang tawirin. May isang malaking dump truck na nagsisilbing ilaw sa mga tumatawid. Tsaka meron daw kinabit na lubid na pwede kapitan habang tumatawid sa creek.

Wala kaming kinain mula nang mananghalian — isang tinapay o isang maliit na tasa ng noodles lang ang kinain ng anak ko. Sampung oras na rin kaming basa ng tubig ulan. Kaya kahit putik putik ang dadaanan, tinawid na rin namin.

Di naman sinabi ng tatay ko na hanggang bewang NIYA ang tubig. Eh ang tatay ko ay 5’8”. So hanggang dibdib ko. At hanggang leeg pa ng nanay ko ang tubig. Si Cojie, bitbit ng tatay ko (nagtatampisaw pa ang paa sa tubig). Ang nanay ko naman, nung una, kasama ko pang naglalakad, mayamaya, natatangay na ng alon. Kaya bitbit ko siya sa isang kamay habang nakakapit ako sa lubid. Sari-sari nang bubog at pako ang naapakan ko pero dedma. Kita ko na ang highway. Sa kanto ding iyon, nakatira ang tiyo ko. Marating lang namin ang highway, tapos na ang kalbaryong ito.

Alas-onse na ng makarating kami sa mga tito ko. Walo kaming lahat, buhay lahat, may mga minor injuries lang, pagod lang, gutom lang, inaantok na rin. Binigyan kami ng bihisan at pinatulog kami sa kwarto ng mga pinsan ko. Pagdating ng alas-dose, tuyo na kaming lahat, nasa 2^nd floor, ligtas na.

Pero kahit idinetalye ko na ang karanasan ko na ito, di ko ma-explain pa rin sa inyo kung gaano kalaki ang impact nito sa buhay ko ngayon. Kung paano nabago drastically lahat ng pananaw ko sa buhay, lahat ng mga plano ko, priorities ko, fears ko.

But in the end, all I really want to say is thank you. Tulad ng sinabi ni Mulder kay Scully (hayyy nagswimming na sila sa baha) sa Season 7 episode na Sixth Extinction II: Amor Fati “Even when the world was falling apart, you were my constant. My touchstone.” Maasahan ko talaga ang mga kaibigan ko. Maraming salamat.

Ana/Ajie

Soon, people will know about this blog. http://nappykaye.blogspot.com. A simple little blog that would probably get 100-200 hits in the past would soon hit the thousands because it’s going to play a role in a recent domestic issue between the deputy national security adviser (and here I am wondering, was there EVER a post called “deputy national security adviser” before? or did they just make that up?) and his lover.

The writer of this blog is the quiet victim in the midst of this craziness. She is the wife of the lover’s lover, a good-looking man who is not satisfied with just looking at himself in the mirror to know that he’s good-looking, he needs other women to tell him that.

When I read her blog, I nod my head in empathy. I know what she’s going through. I know the feeling of stalking and being tempted to stalk. I know the espionage behind the whole cheating machine — the new numbers on the phone, the shady emails, the profile views on your friendster, the ghost calls in the office. It’s torture enough that the man you love is bedding another woman (and another and another), it’s further torture to be studied like a goldfish in an aquarium and comfort yourself in the little things that you think you (the other woman) are better at.

I have no respect for men who cheat. I think they’re stupid. I think they’re sad. They have not achieved anything in their lives (when I think about it, the cheaters that I’ve known/met had sucky jobs and blah salaries) that they substitute that with the women who tell them they love them. They collect “I love you’s” for the fun of it.

In the blog, I read an entry about how the cheating man’s own daughter said “I don’t want to marry a man like you”. That kid is damaged forever. That mother is going to be perpetually paranoid while that daughter will be perpetually suspicious of (a) every man her mother dates and (b) every man she herself dates. Talk about bearing baggage.

But hey, nobody can hurt you unless you let them. (As cool as that sounds, you can’t quote me on that. Eleanor Roosevelt said that.) You can continue to be in the mockery of a relationship that is your marriage, or sever all ties with this monster and start off fresh. Altogether now: YOU DESERVE BETTER.

Can’t believe I haven’t blogged in a while. Nothing like melancholy and boredom to bring me back to writing.

I’ve said this before, I think things are happening to me just so I can write about it. God will put me in the weirdest, most awkward situations, allow me to feel a range of emotions — from happiness to sadness to anger to confusion to rage — just so that I can someday sit down and write about it.

I should be thankful.

I should be thankful that this year has been (and continues to be )a year of changes for me — from work to personal life to travel to my own health — so many things are happening, that I don’t really know what will happen next.

As always, the universe draws me back to my place of comfort — the bookstore. I found a book called “The Zen Commandments” by Dean Sluyter. Google it, it’s an awesome read. From the very first chapter, it will rock you to your core.

“Rest in Openness” he says. Allow the forces of the universe to maneuver you instead of trying (usually with futility) to maneuver it.

“No Appointment, no disappointment.” Don’t set your sights on something that hasn’t happened yet. Even if you’re mind is set on going to Shang-rila this evening for dinner but the boss calls you in for a 7pm meeting, let go of the Shang-rila dinner in your mind. All plans are really just theories until they actually happen.

“Enjoy now”. Don’t think of your life as empty because of the things that you are or have not. (This one is tricky). The dream salary, the dream job, the dream boyfriend — they’re all just in the way of enlightenment. When you learn to love everything that you are/have/can be right now, everything else is gravy.

These words, this book, is fitting at a time when my life is so filled with uncertainty that I might find myself a better or worse person after this year is finished. And everyday, I worry and worry and worry. And hearing these words (words I already know but just need to be reminded of), it’s liberating.

Ok, universe, give it all you got. I’m waiting.

Ten Minutes Before Leaving Manila I was….

1… in a gray top (that says “Save the Nation Through the Oblation”) and camouflage shorts and gray tsinelas

2… lagging two travel bags and a mailman bag. I overpacked, yes. I planned to jog on both mornings that I was there but failed. Horribly.

3… pissed about two other people on the plane (but this dissipated in time. They’re friends, what’re you gonna do.)

4… sitting beside my techie friend and fiddling with his iPhone. “Jailbroken ito” he’d boasted. Uh, okei.

5… starving, having unanticipated that we’d be boarding the plane by 1130, arriving in Caticlan by 1pm and Bora island by 230pm. 

6… trying to recall the last time I got on a plane and what I did during take off and if I needed to use the paper bag in front of me.

7… thinking about how Cojie would behave during a plane ride and if he’d like it

8…. wondering if there’s an ATM in Boracay

9…. trying not to laugh when the bored Cebu Pac stewardess taught us how to use our lifevests.

10… praying the plane won’t crash because that would be a big bummer.

 

Celebrity Sightings

1. Bernard Palanca

2. Rajo Laurel

3. Abby Cruz (Paolo Bediones’ girlfriend)

4. Andrew Wolff (di na nadala ito hahaha)

5. Mo Twister

6. Mojo Jojo

7. Marc Nelson

8. Bamboo Manalac (he was in concert)

9. Papa Dom of Tropical Depression (he was in concert too)

10.  Kat Alano (don’t know her? yeah, me neither.)

 

Officemate Sightings (harhar)

1. JF, the tiny AE who laughs real loud

2. CU of MSG’s Chinese Mafia

3. MSG alumna AG

4. The hearththrob (according to him haha) of radio sales, ND

5. Tall and svelte, partying in Heather’s, QTV’s JS

And finally

6. Whiter than white TdL

7. My new seatmate JL

8. Aforementioned techie with the jailbroken iPhone JZ

9. The only girl I know who can take and takes a good picture, GQ; and

10. MSD alum ML

because they were with me haha. 

 

Grub & Gulp

1. Mang Inasal (pecho and achara and fried rice)

2. Jonah’s Shakes (mango banana and Jonah’s pizza)

3. Guilly’s Island (frozen margarita)

4. Sidebeach (wala namang sidewalk haha) stalls of inihaws (hotdog and daing na pusit)

5. Eat-all-you-can seafood (shrimps, clams, oysters, porkchop, eggplant)

6. Eat-all-you-can mongolian grill (I went crazy here)

7. Cafe Mediterranean (beef gyro and marinated olives)

8. Samba (pitcher of margarita, fries, calamares)

9. Some breakfast place near our place (can’t remember the name)

10. Starbucks (Mint capuccino for day 1, Latte for day 2)

 

Reasons why I’m exhausted

1. Watched/danced/sang with Tropical Depression and other reggae bands in the concert event of MTV called Rasta Rhythms. Bilog na naman ang buwan.

2. Posed ala-FHM on the beach because TdL’s boyfriend is a photog-wannabe. I think those pictures will never see the light of day.

3. Office gossip in the middle of the ocean. Hahaha.

4. Island hop (we missed puka beach, though. Waves were cruel because of the stupid storm).

5. “Listened” to Bamboo’s concert sponsored by Smart. Too many people in the venue so we decided to stay at the resto behind the stage and listen to him howl while we sipped on (almost waterlike) margaritas.

6. Frisbeed (we lost the frisbee boohoo)

7. Had a tattoo of a yin-yang sun on my shoulder which my son vehemently contested when I got home.

8. Bought pasalubong galore for my family

9. Continued office-gossip in Starbucks heehee

10. Danced alongside (not WITH — there’s a difference) smelly foreigners in Summer Place. Could see half-naked caucasian woman dancing on the DJ’s counter.

 

Ten Things I Learned from this trip

1. What people REALLY like in Boracay is walking around with barely any clothes on and it’s ok. And that goes for both beautiful people and … um…. those that are not.

2. You can’t wake up early in the morning to jog in Boracay. Those plans are only for places like Tagaytay or Batangas. In Bora, you can’t. Because you just slept.

3. You also can’t live blog in Bora. There’s just too many things to do. So next time, I have to leave you, laptop.

4. Water-resistant and waterproof are two very different things (my watch died).

5. We have such a beautiful country. Why are we screwing it up?

6. Based on photographic evidence and reliable feedback, I have nice shoulders and I should always flaunt it.

7. You can still have fun in Boracay even if it’s raining.

8. I don’t think I would have enjoyed Boracay if it weren’t for friends. These friends, in particular.

9. “The Real Coffee Place” — for calamansi muffins.

10. Must conceal any future tattoos from Cojie.

 

This trip is brought to you by…. (Brands that peppered the beachfront in my 3-day stay)

1. Smart

2. Nestea Fit

3. Nescafe (with the guys and the hot bods heehee)

4. MTV

5. Premium Condoms (Did you know that Asia Agcaoili, endorser of Premium condoms, is pregnant? harharhar)

6. Ginebra San Miguel

7. ETC

8. Jack TV

9. Century Tuna (we missed the hot bods finals because our friend was a die-hard Bamboo fan. So she paid for our fries and calamari. hehehe)

10. PAL Express

 

Ten Minutes before I left Caticlan I ….

1…. was very disappointed with breakfast. Small serving of tocino, sucky coffee, cup of rice, and an egg. For P250. “Beachfront kasi” GQ said. For ambiance, you pay twice the value.

2…. was weighed before departure. I gained 4 pounds. Yikes.

3…. entered the pre-departure area which had pay-per-view of the Pacquiao fight on Solar Access.

4…. was non-chalant about the whole Pacquiao thing but happy for the rest of my friends who were beside themselves, thinking we would miss it because our flight was at lunch.

5…. saw an old officemate, AG. “Ang payat mo!” she exclaimed. And to think I had just gained 4 lbs.

6…. thought that though Manny Pacquiao has been asshole-like in the last few months, there’s no contesting that he’s an amazing athlete.

7…. thought that Ricky Hatton fought like a street bully. (I was maka-Manny for the duration of one hour)

8…. clapped and cheered with the rest of the people in the pre-departure area as Hatton fell on his knees in round 1. (One of the Korean tourists had to be paged because his plane was leaving and he was still glued to the TV)

9…. stood up and rejoiced with the crowd when Pacquiao delivered that visibly very painful blow to Hatton’s jaw and the Brit fell like a log. Timberrrrrrr!!!!!!!!

10…. realized I had an awesome trip

Let me begin with a high-pitched “Uuuuuuyyyyyy!!!!! Kamustaaaaa????!!!!! Tagal natin di nag-usap!!!!!!!” since my last entry was three weeks ago. Ugh.

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I am gym-ing. I like my little gym. It’s a few blocks away from work. It’s cheap. Everybody just leaves me alone. It’s freaking hot — perfect for sweating (what’s the point of pumping iron if you won’t sweat?). And a few steps away is Tomas Morato.

I look forward to the end of the work out when I get to hop under the scalding hot shower, close my eyes, and let thousands and thousands of tiny little drops of blazing hot water pat me in the back — because no one else would.

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Cojie turned six. He is, among other things, territorial.

I bought him a box of clay this weekend and he was absolutely ecstatic, especially when his Kuya Jerry taught him how to make little clay dice.

He then displayed his dice on our bookshelf and wrote (without anyone teaching him how to!) on a piece of paper: “BAWAL HAWAKAN ANG CLAY”

But then he changed his mind, took down the piece of paper, scribbled on another sheet, and put up this sign “PWEDE HAWAKAN ANG CLAY PERO MAGHUGAS NG KAMAY”.

Madali naman pala kausap e…..

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My poor kid is also super bored at home. And it’s only been two weeks since school was out. So when I take him out to the mall or buy him a happy meal, the twinkle in his eyes is almost…. scary.

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I saw this quote somewhere. Can’t remember where, but it was funny.

“It’s better to lose a lover than to love a loser”

NOTE: HELLO EXES. Didn’t mean anything by this. No pun intended. You have to admit, it’s funny.

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Speaking of exes, I have a beef to settle with ex no.3. He told me TEN YEARS AGO that Rai Rai Ken, the japanese resto, was horrible. “Don’t go there” he said “Horrible food” he said.

Last week, since I didn’t eat dinner before going to the gym, I decided to keep it conservative and have japanese food. I trodded over to Rai Rai Ken and had awesome miso soup, sashimi and shrimp salad roll.

The moment the miso soup touched my lips, I murmured. “T*ngina mo _______”. I’m never taking restaurant advice from an ex ever again.

(Went back to have lunch there the following day. I had seafoods hotpot and couple of salmon rolls. It was so damn good. )

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It was cool for Royal Tru Orange to briefly bring back the “Ito Ang Gusto Ko” ad of Francis Magalona as a tribute to him. I thought that was nice of them.

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It saddens me that a lot of the people I care for likes ABS more than GMA. And that I can’t sway them over to my side because the affection is so deep, it’s almost sexual hahaha.

My Ate is a big influence in my life. Though I’m technically an only child, I was raised a middle child, between an older girl cousin, Ate Chinchin and a younger boy cousin, Bojie. I grew up worshipping the cool older “sister” who was (and still is) pretty and smart and hip. She was such a big influence in my life that once upon a time, I was ten years old, and my little cousin (her brother) approached her to ask for her help with an essay and from across the room I hear her say “Si Ajie na lang, mas magaling siya sumulat kesa sa akin“. And I was like “Wow, really?”. So that kicked off my (pseudo) writing career.

(She probably just wanted to pawn off our annoying little brother to me, but why would I want to think that?)

My Ate was also a big musical influence to me. Because of her, I loved Tears for Fears, Duran Duran, Gene Loves Jezebel. In 1990, as she went off to college and me to high school, she brought in the household rap music.

Of course the adults of our home absolutely loathed Vanilla Ice and MC Hammer and Andrew E, save for one artist. “Ah, yan ba yung anak ni Tita Duran at Pancho Magalona?” my mom would say.

My Ate introduced me to Francis Magalona.

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Between 1994 to 1995, there were three cassette tapes (yeesh!) that I wore out until it sounded like the artists were singing with a pillow over their faces. Those albums were Ultraelectromagneticpop, Circus and Cutterpillow.

Interchanged with those three was Francis Magalona’s Freeman.

The Freeman album would first explode with Baw-waw-waw, my favorite Francis Magalona song (for some weird reason). I’m not fond of dogs. I don’t eat dogs. I’ve never been fed dogs. But that song just has a way of invading your consciousness with great acoustic, great percussion and of course, great good ole Tagalog rap.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vvaSUXecPzk

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My Cutterpillow cassette tape was purchased along with two free tickets to the Eraserheads concert at the UP Sunken Garden. My parents were morally pissed off because I said I’d be home by 12 midnight but instead came home at 1am. Eh, it’s the Eraserheds, damn it.  I was turning nineteen.

As Baw-waw-waw was to Freeman, Superproxy was to Cutterpillow.

Even if 80% of Superproxy is Ely Buendia, that tail-end 20% rap of Francis M. was the upgrade.

Superproxy was the theme song of the angsty 90s generation, just with its starting line. “Sawa ka na ba sa mga hassel sa buhay mo? Ayaw mo na bang mag-isip para sa sarili?” It was the soundtrack of my early college years, spending days and nights solving math problems I doubt anybody really cares about. (The integral of a cubed plus b quared plus c? Who the f*ck gives a sh*t?).

Then Francis Magalona goes “I play video games all day. Zipidee doo dah, zipidee day,  hip hop hooray”. And you quietly snicker as you purposely screw up your calculus quiz. Ah screw it, I’m going to Masscomm.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3pDeR3SfvFk

(When news broke that Francis Magalona died, I didn’t cry. I was at lunch with some friends. When I came back to my desk, the guy sitting next to me started to play Superproxy on his computer, and that’s when I cried.

The next day, Saturday, during the Eat Bulaga tribute, the same first few bars of the song played and I thought “Ely’s in Bulaga? Ely can’t be in Bulaga! The E-heads concert is tonight!”. You know who came out to do the song? Chito Miranda. He couldn’t sing at first, he was choking back the tears, he was obviously crying. At which I bawled like an infant.)

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Francis M also collaborated with another of my favorite bands, Parokya ni Edgar. It was entertaining to see Francis work with Ely and the rest of the E-heads because they were equals — like Frank Sinatra dueting with Elvis Presley. Parokya ni Edgar on the other hand, was like Frank Sinatra and … Justin Timberlake heehee. As much as they tried to look cool, it was obvious how much Chito and  the others worshipped him.

In Inuman Sessions, Francis M infused the bordering-on-moronic (but enjoybale nevertheless!) song Yes Yes Show with hard core Rock N Roll just by starting off his rant (along with awesome electric guitar — thanks Darius!) with “Ang magkaaway ipagbati, gumitna ka at huwag kumampi”

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xjJnQoRAiE8&feature=related

He also did the song “Bagsakan” with Parokya ni Edgar and Gloc 9 which was the higlight of the album Matira Matibay.

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z8HHNIlcsek&feature=related

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Gary Valenciano brought with him footage from his Major Impact concert in 1990, of Francis Magalona singing Mga Kababayan and I got goosebumps. Well, of course, because he’s gone. But…. because I looked at his backup dancers, and I distinctly remember those steps hahaha…..

“Di ko alam kung pano tatapusin ang kanta, kaya ganito na lang bigla na lang mawawala….”

Two people broke up this week and I can vouch for at least one of them that she’s devastated. Crying has become an involuntary response, her eyes had been hurting so much from crying everyday that she had to buy eye cream to keep the swelling down.

There are good breakups and then there are bad breakups. Bad breakups usually involve criminal activities such as cheating, stealing, slander/libel or murder. Good breakups are just two people who have agreed that it’s not working out anymore, or that it doesn’t seem to be working out right now and perhaps it’s best to pull away from each other for a while.

But good breakups aren’t entirely good. You’re left with the feeling of hope, which can be either false or real hope. I can, again, vouch for one of the two individuals that she still feels hopeful but as the days go by, that tiny candle is slowly losing oxygen.

Right now, all the girl wants to do is turn off that part of her brain that triggers the memories.

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Valentine’s Day was make-up day for me. In the last two weeks, at least five people have told me the following:

1. “We have a presentation on (certain date) I hope you don’t mind, perhaps you should wear makeup” (from my boss hehe)

2. “You know, you’re pretty naman e, you just need to enhance your features with make-up”

3. “Ime-makeover kita! Hanap tayong makeup!”

4. “You look great in your Christmas office party photos (I was wearing makeup)”

5. “Make-up…. make-up…… dumdeedumdeedum….something about the weather…. make-up”

So I decided that I will finally have to invest in this damn thing.

I trudged over to Beauty Bar in Shangri-la to meet Fafi and Joy. When I came in, I pretended to fiddle with the lipstick and the brushes and the eyeshadow, but was stopped in my tracks when the saleslady came up to me to ask what I needed.

“Uh, guys, a little help?” I called to my girlfriends.

I felt like a room that needs cleaning. Fafi, Joy and saleslady looked at me like they wanted to rearrange my face. “She needs concealer that’s a lighter shade than her skin” said Fafi. “You don’t need eyeshadow, definitely eyeliner” piped Joy. “Get the blush, she needs blush” said the saleslady.

They sat me down — slouched as always — and proceeded to test the items on my face. Concealer to cover my darn dark spots. Loose powder. Blush. Eyeliner. Lipstick.

Here’s what I hate about wearing make-up — it’s obvious that I’m wearing make-up. I’ve been in an almost make-up-less atmosphere for the last nine, ten years in GMA and I’ve lived by the philosophy that I was hired, and I’m being paid, to think and not be pretty. Apparently, with the recent events at work, that is no longer true.

I looked at myself in the mirror after the saleslady (I remember her name — Micah!) was done attacking my face. Wasn’t so bad. I liked the eyeliner effect around my eyes, it made me look bitchy hehe. And the blush and the lipstick weren’t too pink nor too red, it was as if I got out of a really hot bath or sauna.

Here’s what I bought. I’m writing down the brands too because somebody out there might be using it and I am in dire need of tips— whether I should change my brand, or if it’s a good brand, or what brand is better, and so on.

My make-up kit (Ta-da!):

1. Natural Rice Oil-absorbing Rice Powder (Original Ancient Chinese Secret Formula…. oooh)

2. Prestige Blushing Duo — Blush & Highlighter

3. Prestige Light Response Self-Adjusting Undereye Concealer

4. Prestige Waterproof Automatic Eyeliner (Flanel Gray)

5. Prestige Lipstick - Mocha

6. Eyelash Curler, Blush Brush, Loose Powder brush

Prior to my purchase, I did some crazy research and came across brand names like Mac, Shu Uemura, Bobbi Brown, Bare Escentuals (can somebody enlighten me on mineral make-up?), Too Faced, Smashbox, among others. I’ve looked them up too and they are chi-ching! But I’d love to hear success/horror stories so I know what to use, help a girl out.

So…. weight loss, check. Hair treatments, check. Facials, check. Make-up, check. What’s next? Botox, perhaps? Harharhar….

Melancholy apparently brings out the writer in me. I’ve been sad the last few days. Proof is in the dark circles under my eyes that have gone from gray to blue to purple.

I’ve been crying a lot. But I don’t want to tell. I’m still hoping someday I can tell the world of that story because it’s a wonderful love story, but I still can’t.

It’s true that Valentine’s day serves no real purpose — love should be celebrated all year round. Boyfriends should give girlfriends flowers every damn day even if it would endanger the existence of the rose plant species. Husbands should take their wives out on dates and make them feel sexy and wanted every damn day even if it means upping the country’s population. But it’s an effective marketing ploy and everybody benefits from it — even the networks hardyharhar.

(I’m supposed to plug the movie When I Met U out of loyalty to GMA but Richard Gutierrez annoys me and I loathe KC Concepcion for deep-seated reasons)

I’m a girl. I want the flowers. I want the chocolates in a heart-shaped box. I want the free dinner (heck, who doesn’t?). I want a guy to tell me I’m beautiful and I want a guy to stare at me like he needs to. There, I said it. And come Valentine’s day, I want it even more.

But alas… tragically (naks), this is the nth Valentine’s day that I will be celebrating it alone.

Well, not really alone. When I came home from work last night, my son gave me a piece of paper with the words “Valentine Happy” scribbled inside a red heart and the words “Mama” and “Cojie” on either side of the heart. My son has lovely handwriting, did you know? It’s weird because neither me nor the sperm-donor a.k.a. his father had good handwriting.

Also, for about three years now, I’ve been celebrating Valentine’s Day with my girlfriends Fafilicious and Joy the Jowable. We just hang out somewhere, sip on coffees and make fun of ugly couples harharhar.

Sigh.

I sometimes think maybe there are just people built for certain functions. There’s a woman meant to be a wife. Meant to be a mother. Meant to be a sister. Meant to be a daughter. Meant to be a girlfriend. Meant to be a friend. There are those who can be all of these, but there are those who will only be one or two of these at a time. Or for the rest of their lives.

I think I’m an awesome friend. I’m good at daughtering. I’m average at mothering. Maybe I’m not really built to be a wife, thus the lack of relationships. I look at friends of mine who are married and they’re just a different species to me. For one thing, they’re not as….. crazy as I am hahaha.

Or perhaps there’s a skill I have yet to learn? At 32? Damn. (I just realized now that the statement above appears lewd and obscene but it definitely isn’t.)

I’m at a Taco Bell and there’s a couple in front of me enjoying a burrito. Clackityclackclackclackclack….. I’m out of endings. I’m stuffing my laptop back in my bag and heading home.