Boohoo...

Boohoo...



She made me cry.

And I hardly ever do.

Now I feel bad.

Embarassed.

Ashamed.

Because I cried over a petty thing.



What's happening to me?

Good-time Friend

Good-time Friend



Hummin': Broken (Chorus) by Robert Downey Jr.

There he was.

After almost two months of not seeing him, eventhough we go to the same school and attend the same church, there he was, standing and smiling widely at me.

I nodded towards him. He waved back.

I thought, "Aba, he's friendly today." Afterthoughts of my bitterness over our spoiled friendship came back to me in huge waves, but I shrugged it off. I was no longer hung up on that hurting memory anymore. I accepted the fact that he had outgrown me.

The program ended. People stood up and walked towards the exit. I joined in the crowd, chatting with my bestfriend as we went along. The next thing I knew, an arm was looped around my shoulder.

"Abiiii!" He ecstatically said, pinching my right cheek at the same time. "Tagal na natin 'di nagkita ah!" (We haven't seen each other for so long!)

"Onga eh." I replied, much less enthusiastic, but smiling nevertheless.

"Punta ka sa *toot*?" (Are you going to *toot*?) He asked me.

I shrugged, "Not sure yet."

"Punta ka na!" (Go!) He insisted.

"Bakit ka ba excited masyado? Atat ka eh!" (Why are you so excited? You're itching to go!) I joked. It's been a while since I've even felt the slightest hint that he was missing our company, his old friends.

And then, the clincher. "Wala ako kasama eh... Hehehe!" (I have no one to go with.) He answered, smiling from ear to ear, unknowingly bursting the bubble I just created.

With that, I removed his arm and said, "We'll see." I then walked away, back to my good ol' friends.

He has outgrown me. People were right when they said he was only my friend during the good times, but I didn't want to believe it back then. He was, after all, who I thought was my best guy friend. But now, I'm finally seeing it clearly for myself.

It's very sad to see a falling out, but I learned that it was even harder to be the one who had to go through it. It's like telling a person, "You're going to be fine." after he suffered a tragic loss. You blurt it out mechanically in an attempt to comfort him. But if you were in his place, those words would disappear into thin air in a second, while you would seriously doubt if you were ever going to be fine again.

I have learned my lesson after seeing him for who he really, truly is. It's just sad in that upcoming "good time" we always used to enjoy together, I won't be standing there beside him.

Rebuffed

Rebuffed




In my family, I am the mediator. I serve as the request hotline, guidance counselor, tie-breaker and most of the times, peacemaker. However, when it is my turn to ask for help or reassurance, I can't seem to find anyone who could do the job.

I would then just brush it off, show them that I'm alright and then, head straight to the bathroom to shed a few tears.

Just a few days ago, something about school finally made me happy. A poem I wrote, Citrus Tears was picked among five other model poems in our class to be anonymously "studied."

My classmates said the poem carried vivid imagery and was quite a paradox in itself, which is what gave it an edge. I didn't expect that it had such a powerful and emotional core, as one of my classmates pointed out. And I didn't think that it brought so much memories into it. On the whole, I was pleasantly surprised.

After my teacher revealed the author of the poem at the end of the class, I received a round of applause. I never was and never will be the type to excel in Math or in Science, which is why that really made me feel good about myself. It made me feel that I could be great at something.

But that was the end of it.

That night, I half-bragged, half-told my family about it and my mom, in her usual attempt to annoy me, replied, "Yun lang? (That's it?)" and stuck her nose in the air. I know that she was not at all serious when she said it, but I know that deep inside her, she meant what she said.

Dinner suddenly felt cold and tasteless inside my mouth.

I'm just so sad and disappointed because I was really expecting much, much more than that.


PS: If clicking on the link of the poem doesn't work, it's because Diaryland is moving servers. You can check it out another day though.

Hunting Prince Charming

Hunting Prince Charming




I grew up reading fairytales and watching Disney movies where Snow White, Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty all had each of their own handsome Prince Charming who came at the time when the princesses needed help the most. He comes in riding his stallion, rescues them, takes them to his kingdom and then, they live happily ever-after. As a little girl, I truly believed that growing up, I would meet my Prince Charming just in time for him to rescue me from my troubles and whisk me off to my own happy ending.

But as a child who played pretend each and every day, I admit I was quite neurotic and delusional. I wanted my own castle, about a hundred servants, a fairy godmother and even, waist-long blonde hair despite my Chinese roots. (Who wouldn't be when you're bombarded with these wistful fantasies that are made out to be true?)

Reading "The Curse of the TFM," I was reminded of the growing number of females who find their selves sorely disappointed with men. Some men just lack the initiative, some are overly aggressive and others have eliminated the words "chivalry" and "gentleman" from their vocabulary.

It appears that as time progresses, the descendants of Prince Charming decreases, leaving damsels in distress wanting to just stay locked up in their towers for a hundred more years rather than go out with these trolls and ogres. In the place of Prince Charming, we have the displeasure of meeting Prince Obnoxious, Prince Narcissus-wannabe, or to unfortunate others, Prince Torpe.

Prince Charming, it seems, is nowhere to be found.

Is asking for someone who would take care of you and treat you like royalty once in a while too much to ask? Doesn't every girl want to feel loved and special? Don't we deserve even an ounce of Prince Charming in the men we meet?

Is it because most of these men who have genetic leftovers from Prince Charming are either taken or gay? I've heard it time and time again how girls find this one man who matches all the qualities they look for in a guy, but then, they discover he's married, engaged or, worse, just not interested in women. Imagine how you find someone who could actually understand all your pains and needs, then you find out he's into the same guy as you are. Another potential prince off the list.

There is a dramatic increase in closet revelations with the onset of the accept-who-you-are generation, producing more men-loving-men than men-who-could-possibly-be-Prince-Charming. What's worse, these men-loving-men who are great chika buddies and fashion advisers, actually add fierce competition as they also hunt for the elusive Prince.

So where does that leave us? With the Filipino female demographics higher than the Filipino male, what is the chance that we still get to find "the one?"

It seems like a hopeless case, a search that would most likely end up in vain. But why is it that we continue to meet other Princes, have our hearts broken (to some, get more than their hearts broken), cry for sleepless nights, indulge in fattening chocolate ice cream, pick up pieces of our hearts, tape it back together again and then, go out with another potential Prince?

Maybe it's because when we get hurt so bad that we would swear we would never date again, we are reminded of that picturesque portrait of ourselves in the arms of our prince riding into the sunset. Deep inside, the little girl still lives in all of us.

Even though we wouldn't admit it in broad daylight, we still believe that our Prince Charming is out there somewhere, looking for us, and that one day, when it seems like all hope is gone, he would come striding in his white stallion, scoop us in his arms and we would finally have our own happily-ever-after.

The Infamous La-Ba-Ga

The Infamous La-Ba-Ga




He has been our neighbor for as long as I can remember. Our house sits on a corner and he lives about three houses away from us (Thank God). He used to be a whole lot fatter, but unfortunately, almost two decades after, his horrid and very offensive attitude remains the same.

My memories of him were all either seeing him holding and chugging down a bottle of beer, sitting on a abench, shirtless with his huge paunch hanging out, in the middle of the day, or shouting expletives at someone across the street. He's a lasenggo (drunkard), a batugan (bum) and a siga (bully) in our neighborhood.

Let's call him Labaga.

Labaga always had issues with our family. We're not all that rich, but I can say that we are well-to-do enough to buy all our needs and plenty of our wants too. He thinks that it's unfair that we have more than what he has. But really, he doesn't deserve even what little he has, because his wife is the only one who works to make ends meet.

Many years ago, he came to our home, banging his bare fists against our gates. He said that his teenage son has been bitten by our dog. We of course didn't believe it. First of all, our dog hardly ever gets to go out and has never been violent or even, threatening to anyone. Our dog doesn't even chase away rats or cats, and is deathly afraid of lightning.

But NO.

Labaga simply refused to leave our gate, demanding that we come out, bring his son to the hospital and pay at least five thousand bucks (which was rather big, say twelve years ago) for all the shots. We paid for it all, even though we're positively sure that his son got bitten by one of the stray dogs that litter the back streets of their home.

Another unforgettable incident would be the time that his grandson was about to have his baptism. As someone who loves having money but not working for it, it was in his nature to pick people who could afford to give away nice presents. Unfortunately, my mom was on his A-list. He pressured her to be a ninang (godmother) to his grandson, but we all knew he only wanted to make sure that his grandson got presents during his birthday and aguinaldo (cash bonus) during Christmas.

My mom didn't want to accept the responsibility, since she didn't really know the parents of the boy and she sure didn't like Labaga one bit. So she hid from him everytime he came to our house. But still, she was not able to escape from his greedy clutches.

One early Sunday morning as I was preparing to church, I was surprised by to see that Labaga was waiting right outside our gate, puffing a cigarette. I guess he knew full well about our Sunday routine. My mom who was a pianist at our church that morning couldn't afford to be late, so to get rid of him, she had no choice but to say yes.

From then on, he comes by our house every Christmas, flashes that yellow, tartar-ed smile, and licks his chops, anxiously waiting for the freebies that he's going to receive. But he would never just get a toy or some school supplies for his grandson. We always have to give him something too.

There are still a lot of events in my life that has been peppered by bits of his outrageous behavior. I still have memories and locked-up feelings of wanting to slap and possibly mangle Labaga.

I would love to tell you ALL about how he has always been quite a large pain in the ass, like an annoying piece of meat stuck right between your teeth where you can't get it even though you try and try again, but this entry would be far too long by the time I finish all my rantings.

It's just that I saw him again today. Still sitting on that same, ratty, wooden bench, still without a shirt and still having a basketball for a belly. But he's far thinner now. I heard that Labaga's got the big C.

But I don't feel sorry for him. Instead, I feel sorry for his family, because now he would be a heavier burden to carry.

Moving for the New Year

PANSIT, anyone?



Hummin': Drama effects.

Just as the new year arrived, I found myself faced with changes that I had to undergo in order to grow. Just as I finally (Mom in the background screams: FINALLY!) decided to do something about my unwanted "curves," something important happened to me as well.

I visited Ala's blog and saw that the hostess, Ate Sienna was actually accepting 5 new borders in her server. I became very interested and thus, submitted an application with the smallest expectations of acceptance.

Lo and behold, some few days later, I received an email welcoming me to the Pansitan community! I got in! Yeheeeey!!! Ain't this great?

Ah well, on the downside, I will terribly miss this place that I now can announce just like I do my own name. (ablosh-dat-blag-spat-dat-kom!) But I'm only moving URLs and nothing else.

So please, still visit me here:

HTTP://ABLOSH.PANSITAN.NET

And for those who have me on their links, kindly change them for me too. Thank you.

New year, New start

New year, New resolution



Hummin': Lovely Mausoleum by Big Tent Revival

I have to admit, I have NEVER made a New Year's Resolution and fulfilled it. Nope, seriously, of the hundred resolutions I've made, I can't remember actually doing a single one for a whole year.

So I stopped making them. If my memory serves me right, the last resolution I made was three years ago when I said that I would go on a diet and try to lose weight.

That OBVIOUSLY did not push through--AT ALL.

This year, I decided to try it out again. I've got nothing to lose.

I will be forcing myself to work out and try to shed a few pounds. (If God's willing, A LOT OF POUNDS!) I will really push myself to maintain my gym routine and get back my (parents') money's worth. I choose to have a healthier lifestyle not just for the physical appearance makeover (that I'm hoping for), but more so for my health.

And why am I writing this here?

I made it public for the sole purpose of REINFORCEMENT.

On the positive side, people can help me by encouraging me to go on and giving me support. On the negative side, if ever I lose my motivation to keep this lifestyle, I will surely be embarassed whenever I see people who I personally know and who also read my blog. Hopefully, that'll get me back up the treadmill and running! So, it works for me in both ways. Hehehe!

Here's to a thinner new year! Cheers!