I Am The Walrus

1. I actually enjoyed shopping today.
2. For the first time in the eight years I’ve had mid-year bonuses (GMA’s such a great company….cough), I only bought ONE BOOK and about TEN pieces of clothing and not vice-versa.
3. This one is a milestone: a blouse on a mannequin by the store window? Looked for it on the racks. Tried it on. It fit me. Bought it. Ain’t that a Pretty Woman moment there for ya?
4. I bought a blouse that didn’t have a size. I’ve never bought free size blouses before.
5. I was able to buy two pairs of jeans for the price of one because they had my size — a normal size (let’s not get numerical, basta it’s NORMAL). If I was my usual humongous self, I wouldn’t have gotten that bargain.
6. Got a denim jacket. A MEDIUM. I haven’t been medium since I was seventeen.
7. I tried on a dress (that was too expensive, but it was near the fitting rooms haha) and it looked great (yet slutty) on me. Too bad there’s no occasion to buy it for.
8. While jogging in UP, I chanced upon a guy ( who was jogging in the opposite direction from me) twice. The first time he just looked at me, the second time, he smiled at me. He was GOOD-LOOKING (by usual standards, not mine. As any friend of mine would attest, I have very bad taste in men haha).
9. Did I already say I was a medium? I’m a fucking Medium. I can’t get over it.
10. Looking at mirrors are especially enjoyable.

I’ll be pestering you with more post-weight loss stories so keep coming back.

On the jeep ride on my way to work, I sat beside a man who was probably
in his sixties. He was your usual old man, with the old man smell and the old
man skin. I didn’t take notice of him — the way I didn’t take
notice of anyone else on a public transport — until his phone rang.

His conversation with the person on his cell went like this:

“O?….. Anong
oras?…. O sige tatawagan ko si
(name I forgot)…”

A few seconds after his phone rang again.

“O?….. Ano
raw sabi?…. Eh nung mamatay ba
yan anong oras?….. Sige
tatawag ako ulit”

After ending the second conversation, he banged his hand on the seat
beside him really hard and shook his head. Obviously stating the obvious,
someone close to him just died.

This time, he was the one dialing his phone.

“Hello…. O, andiyan si Mama mo?….. eh patay na
si Papa mo…”

At that point, the old man’s voice started to break.

“Eh… ikaw na bahala sa Mama mo, wag mong biglain….” He finally said and then ended the
call.

The way he talked to the person on the other line made me think he was
talking to somebody young, a teenager or a young adult. So I assumed he was
talking to a grandchild of his. And their father who just died was his son.

The man started to do a man-cry — you know, choking back the tears,
wiping the eyes like it was itchy, but his bright red nose giving him away —
took off his glasses, and turned his face away from all the other passengers
who by now (like myself) have been clued in on his story.

Good fathers are becoming a rare species, you know, what with single
mom families (like the one I’m running) becoming more and more common.
And, God bless mothers, but fathers are so underrated. They have such a hard
life — they have to be the strong one, keeping it together during times of
crisis. If a mother breaks down and cries, the children would understand. But
if a father does, the children would panic.

And I remembered that this Sunday is Father’s day and I just
wanted to share this story to remind us that though our dads occasionally annoy
us, they (like all the other members of the male species) love us in their unique way. The least we could do is let them know. At the very least. You could, of course, do more.

EPILOGUE: For Father’s Day, I bought my Dad a CD of Astrud Gilberto (who I thought was a guy haha) because he’s been bugging me for months to
download songs for him. He didn’t jump up and down or cry when he got it,
but I know he appreciated it because when we all settled for bed last night, he
stayed up and the song "Girl from Ipanema" lulled the
rest of us to sleep.