-=the daily grind=-

SOMEBODY HELP ME! Payback for procrastinating is here. I have a midterm due on Wednesday, a presentation for tomorrow’s Evidence class, a midterm in Tax 2 weeks from now, digest for Succession…when does it end? And I was slacking the whole sem!!! And then there’s barops, and of course homework for the day’s class and an entire shitload of stuff to do, stuff to worry about.

It’s during days like this when I wish I were a mongoloid, or a retard, or a fat dog or just plain invisible with no worries and no stress.

5 things I should learn to do:

1. Stick to a schedule — stop delaying/dilly-dallying.

2. Save money.

3. Stay awake. Stop napping/sleeping. Wake up early and stay up late and NOT make up for lost sleep.

4. Focus and concentrate.

5. Be scared (even just a bit) and not kampante. This is my life for God’s sake! I can’t just watch it passing me by! I have to make things happen!!!

Wish me luck.

I can now relate to those who have/ have had missing loved ones. Yesterday, Thursday, Tito Bino, my senile tito who’s living with us, got lost in the Sta. Cruz Church. My dad, him and my brother went to SSS to fix my tito’s pension. He’s 78 years old. And then going home, my brother went his separate way and my dad and tito headed home. They passed by the Sta. Cruz Church (like they always do) and my dad sat him on a pew (like he always did) as he went around the church to touch the saints. Two minutes later he turns around and my tito was no longer there.

My brother, dad and cousin scoured the entire downtown Manila area to find him. During his heyday, my tito would go to Quiapo everyday to hear mass and eat Chinese food. This afternoon my brother, dad and I went to ABS-CBN to drop off information and pictures to radio stations and TV shows. While we were in ABS, my cousins were going around Luneta and the Taft area looking for him while my mom and Josie, our trusty maid, went to Quiapo as my Tito was seen there last night lining up for free lugaw. And then, around 6, we got a call from my cousin that some guy on a cell phone called up the house in Frisco, where my cousins live, and said Tito was in the Alabang terminal, and then the line got cut off. So my other cousin went to Alabang with her husband while we were waiting for people in the TV shows to accommodate us. When my cousin and her husband got to Alabang, they showed his picture around and got a hold of that guy who called Frisco. He’s a jeepney driver who said he was our Tito that afternoon, talking to him and telling him to wait with him (the driver) as he was trying to contact us so we can pick him up there. But my Tito, being the hard-headed person that he is, insisted in walking away and riding a jeep to God knows where. Buti na lang, my cousin didn’t give up and went around the terminal some more. She eventually found my Tito there.

At the time we couldn’t find Tito Bino, my brother was going to all the police stations in Manila and my mom was calling her friend who had a radio station so the panawagan can be read. My best friend Karen was asking her cousin in law who was with another radio station to make announcements. I asked my friend Angela (Jaja) if we can go to Wazzap Wazzap (that’s why we were able to go inside ABS) and make an announcement. My cousin made posters and flyers with information and our Tito’s picture and was giving them all around downtown Manila. My brother and his best friend Gerry, stayed up till 2 am Friday waiting at the Sta. Cruz and driving very slowly around Divisoria area. In short, we were all at our wits’ end.

And so now we’ve found him and he’s once again safe. Never mind that he yells “Gretchen Barretto” in our living room once in a while. Or that he asks me what day today is, what month, what year, every 10 mins. Or that he takes half and hour to get ready to go anywhere, be it the park, Church or Mc Do to have breakfast (he has a very thorough ritual you see…his clothes should all be matching – the sputing top with the sputing pants and the sputing shoes; and then he puts pomade on his shiny balding head; and then he washes his hands 3 times, blows his nose and combs his hair for 1 last time, and then he’s ready to go).  He’s home and safe and nothing unimaginable happened to him when he was lost. Thank God and St. Anthony. As my nephew Zach says, “Oh St. Anthony! When something’s lost that must be found.”

Let me rant! We had our Nego midterms this afternoon. It was a modified take home exam – the proctor gave it to the class at 12 and we had to turn it over by 3. We were allowed to go to the library and discuss among ourselves how to answer the problem. There were 2 problems, the 2^nd one can easily be finished. Konting bola lang okay na. But the first, oh the first was nose bleed material. It took me and my 4 other block mates 2 ½ hours to just untangle the super complicated story of this guy (Moe) who had double-personality disorder and seriously thought he had a twin (Joe) who were both car sales men. A bill of exchange enters the picture, such bill had a forged indorsement, subsequently indorsed partially with the drawee company honoring the instrument. It was later on sold at a discount and the check which bought the original bill was sold at a discount, crossed, and as it was about to be negotiated by the collecting bank, a stop payment order was issued…yadiyadiya…

I couldn’t believe we were actually answering such a test. I wanted to die. I wanted to smoke. I was cursing the prof for giving such a test where there seemed no correct answer. To aggravate matters, we had this sneaky feeling he wasn’t going to check it anyways. Argh. I’m half-expecting him to show up for class on Monday just to say it was all a joke. Haha, joke. Thanks to the Fuzzy, Mario and CJ for not allowing me to smoke.

And since I’m on a roll, allow me to say that the feeling of being taken advantage of is the second worst feeling in the world for me. Ang tanga-tanga ko kasi sometimes. I hate how some people milk your kindness for all it’s worth because they know they’ll get away with it. And stupid me lets them get away with it. And the thing is, the things I should be remembering about them (how they’ve hurt me in the past, how kapal and kupal they were) are exactly what I forget. Shet lang. I want to learn. Please make me learn.

Obiter: You know how people say “I don’t deserve you” or “you deserve someone else” when breaking up with you or letting you go? I’m sure you know by now it’s all baloney. You don’t say that to people you love. It’s a cop-out, a “I’m-breaking-your-heart-by-taking-the-high-road” kinda shit. You don’t let people you love go.  And you  know how other people, right after a break-up people can have the gall to say “oh, let’s be friends”. That’s the “I-don’t-particularly-like-you-now-(maybe-because-there’s-someone-new-or-I’m-not-over-someone-yet)but-just-in-case-all-this-doesn’t-happen-for-me-you-can-be-there-to-pick-up-the-slack” kinda shit. It’s not fooling anyone. I wonder how any thinking being can still use the line (and have it work for him). In How to Make an American Quilt, one of the lolas there said that when you can be friends with an ex, it’s either you never really loved him or you’re not over him yet. It’s usually the first.

All abusers and advantage-takers, die.

…cursing at your life. You’re a discontented mother, and a regimented wife. I have no doubt
you dream about the things you never do
but I wish someone had talked to me like I wanna talk to you, oooh…

*everybody now*

I’ve been to Georgia and California and anywhere I could run. Took the hand of a preacher man and we made love in the sun. But I ran out of places and friendly faces because I had to be free. I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…

Please lady, please lady don’t just walk away.
Cause I have this need to tell you why I’m all alone today. I can see so much of me
still living in your eyes. Won’t you share a part
of a weary heart that has lived a million lives.

*and again*

Oh, I’ve been to Nice and the isle of Greece
when I sipped champagne on a yacht. I moved like Harlow in Monte Carlo and showed them what I’ve got. I’ve been undressed by kings
and I’ve seen some things that a woman ain’t s’pose to see. I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…

*all rise, say with feelings*

Hey, you know what paradise is?
It’s a lie, a fantasy we created about people and places as we like them to be. But you know what truth is? It’s that little baby you’re holding
and it’s that man you fought with this morning
the same one you are gonna make love to tonightthat’struththat’slove sometimes

*yes*

I’ve been to crying for unborn children
that might have made me complete
but I, I took the sweet life I never knew I’d be bitter from the sweet.
I spent my life exploring the subtle whoring
that costs too much to be free.
Hey lady I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…I’ve been to paradise but I’ve never been to me…

______________________________

I sang this song with my sister every weekend last summer. I miss doing karaoke with her! So today here’s a treat from me to you. Sing it with me, baby. By the way, it was recorded by Charlene (huh?) and topped the UK Charts in 1977.

It’s raining outside and I’m here in the room eating ice cream (a whole pint of yummy Rocky Road).  Somewhere further down Katipunan Avenue is a friend of mine getting ready for a ride around town with her somewhat old and somewhat new wonderboy. How very, very nice, very, very TGIS.  Love at first blush when everything’s bright, and you have all these promising things to look forward to. Meanwhile I’m here, updating my blog while waiting for Desperate Housewives to come on.

This afternoon I had some readings photocopied with Ate/Kuya Junie, our neighborhood xeroxman at the law center. To all the other people he’s Kuya Junie but to us, he’s Ate for some carefully crafted conspiracy theory involving him, my blockmate Phloebs, and a few unwilling male blockmates. Law school’s filled with many colorful personas, and Ate Junie plays the part of the ultra-dense, super slow xeroxman. Sometimes we think he’s being deliberate just so school won’t be boring. This afternoon I once again fell prey to his, um, charm.

I had a 4-6 class this afternoon. As we were waiting for the class to start, I borrowed readings from my seatmate, CJ, to have them photocopied for me and the Fuzzy. I went to Ate Junie’s cubicle and told him to xerox 2 copies of the reading, and that I will pick them up at 6, after my class class ends. He looked at a bunch of papers on his machine and saw that he had a copy of the same readings there. Apparently some other person asked him to photocopy them. So, here it is – he turns to me and says “ah, eto na lang meron na pala” holding the stack of papers. I go “okay sige, so hindi ko na iiwan to”. And then he goes “eh pero teka, 1 copy lang pinapagawa niya.” Me (incredulous-slash-stifling-laughter), “eh di gawin mong 3 copies <holding 3 fingers in the air>. Ate Junie looks at me with an “oo nga noh” expression on his face, and says “ah ok.” OH MY GOODNESS. They exist people, they do.

And then at dinner, I was with 2 friends and one of them was telling me and the other the names of her titos. She says one of her titos is named Wincher. My other friend goes “Ano? Winter?” And then she goes “No, Wincher. As in Wincher Churchill.” Ahahahahahahahaha!!! We laughed for 5 mins! Tears were streaming down our cheeks, and our sides were bruised from involuntary spasms. So that was dinner.

There are days and nights like this in a person’s life where everything is easy and manageable. Just now my roommate tuned in to Sugo. Francine Prieto’s trying to steal something from a house. She has on the full sosyal magnanakaw regalia – black ski mask, black cat suit and boots. The catch: her cleavage is showing. Yes, better they see my cleavage than my face. At least when they catch me by breasts will stun them. Hahaha, my roomie and I share a laugh.

If only all the other days were just like today. It’s raining with a vengeance again, and I wonder what tomorrow will be like.