Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Under the Influence of Love (UTL) - My Own Couch Story

I am now in a Bridget Jones moment. I wanna shout the way she did it, "Hurrah! I now have boyfriend! Want to scream in joy in a manner of Grace Kelly"! (sans scarf, pixie glasses, and top down car, of course. Damn!) Yes, I am currently taking a break from being single and detached (so real estate). I can now go to Friday’s and not be harassed with questions like, "Table for two, Sir? (Me: No.) Your party’s waiting for you? (Me: No.) Oh you’re waiting for someone then? (Me already pissed off: No. Is it out of this world for someone to dine alone???) I’ll take you to your table then. (Crew gives me a crappy table by the kitchen door where you have a 98% chance of being run over by servers)" Well, not anymore, folks! I now have the opportunity to dance in the streets with someone, look at the world through rose-colored windows everyday, and I now have a regular supply of sweet text messages like "good morning", "good afternoon", "good night", and "have you eaten?" And I have a last call at night! I feel nice and all tingly inside. (giggles like a young boy)

I again rummaged through my Dear God journal and I found this entry:

October 28, 2002
11:55 p.m.


We are so obsessed with witty acronyms. After the very much used and abused UTI (Under the Influence of Alcohol), UTL or "under the influence of love" seems to be in fashion nowadays. The Saturday Gin Fest showcased not only UTI moments but UTL ones, as well. Seeing Jen and OJ on the couch, stargazing, heads leaning on each other is priceless (parang Mastercard commercial! Hahaha!). I never knew how a lovely sight of sweetness can generate a huge amount of kilig response compared to two-dimensional characters in a chick flick/date movie. I’m so glad OJ’s happy. Well, I’m happy coz I still FEEL the feeling. But now I want to feel it WITH SOMEONE. Grace has been in my mind and heart constantly. I wait for her to call, I can’t wait to call her, I love love how she makes me laugh with her wit and charm. (sigh) Hahahaha! But seriously, seeing people with someone is a validation of a void which I have ignored for so long. I can’t classify this as loneliness but I can’t say that I’m jumping for joy either. All I can say is that the moment she mentioned that Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. is also her hero, I fell in love with her. May your will be done, Lord.

Well, two years have passed and a record number of 21 dates in 4 months, I have someone. (Madison Square Garden cheers, decibel levels hit the roof) I am happier now. Why? Coz now I have my own couch story (winks). Labia, babe! Both minora and majora pa. Hahaha!

Tuesday, December 21, 2004

Give Love on Christmas Day

The Jacksons struck oil with the classic holiday tune hit, "Give Love on Christmas Day" with its excellent arrangement and easy lyrics (not to mention the "hoo-hoo-hoo’s"). But this blog is not about a review of the song. Heaven forbid if I invade review music as well. No. This is about what it means.

I was on my way to have my haircut today. Heaven knows how my aesthetic value has decreased by 22% due to long hair so the urgency of a haircut was existent. Anyway, I was in the jeep sitting beside this very old woman in her late 80"s. Her skin was shriveled and creased both from age and the harshness of life. She has involuntary twitching on her cheeks (squiggling as Dylan said) that was almost sadly grotesque. I was surprised when she talked to me, informing me that she is going to San Antonio, Binan Market. Knowing that she took the wrong ride, I informed her that she needs to take another jeep. She paused then she answered, "Hindi kasi ako marunong magbasa. Nahihilo na nga ako eh. Kanina pa akong umaga hindi kumakain." I asked her why she was alone. She said, "Iniwan na ako ng mga anak ko." I was struck with a stabbing pain as my heart broke of her incapacity and state of being alone and unloved which was evident in the bitterness in her voice. I forced back my tears and told her that I shall accompany her. We got off at Morales, she taking baby steps and I carried her big bag. We boarded a tricycle and she said to me, "Salamat, iho. Napakabait mo." I could not hold back the tears so I cried. I got off at Bambi’s salon, paid the driver fifty pesos, and gave the change of thirty pesos to the old lady. She held my hand and she struggled to look me straight in the eye and said, "Salamat." As the tricycle drove away and before I proceeded to getting my now trivial and mundane haircut, I lit a cigarette and contemplated on what I have done. I made someone happy and for a moment maybe I have given someone the gift of being and feeling loved in the direst of circumstances. As I gave my almost extinguished cigarette a last puff, I would never forget the old lady who just gave me the gift of re-introducing me to the meaning of giving.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

Flight of the OJ-Siris

I just thought of my dear friend and brother, Oscar Ofiana Jr. or OJ and Clubber Lang as we fondly call him. Let me share an entry in my journal that described how I and the rest of our friends felt when OJ left on Feb. 5, 2004.


Countdown: T-minus Two Days

It was noodle night. Sogtanghon for all the friends. After that, consumption of two bottles of Emperador as a send-away gift to OJ. Tonight was full of laughter, years of friendship in review, and having a great time. Nobody dared say anything about OJ’s leaving. As everyone makes their way to parting ways, I saw OJ’s smile and the usual non-verbal banter we have over Ely’s [alleged] new-found love. Still connected with him—and it made me happy.

The Last Walk. Everyone is still not saying a word about OJ while walking towards the terminal where OJ shall board the usual jeep to go home. The only difference this time is that it is a one-way ride.

Final Handshakes. Everyone gave OJ a hug and their goodbyes. As OJ hugged me twice, floodgates opened. It suddenly sank—I won’t be seeing my brother anymore and it made me cry even more. As the jeep drove away, I suddenly remembered the line from the movie “Someone Like You”: There is something sad about someone leaving you. As you see him walk away and the distance between your bodies becomes bigger and bigger until there’s nothing left…but empty space.

Countdown: T-minus One Day

Dissecting Sadness. Everyone prepared their letters for OJ to be placed in one of my innovations: the ISP Memory Box. It was a bittersweet journey. I got to relive my friendship with OJ. I cannot imagine that I have witnessed the blossoming of my brother into a fine young man. I have been there at every smile and heartache. I am glad that I have been part of his life. I just hope he could find a way to strengthen our friendship even more and see him evolve.

OJ’s Jen. Seeing Jen cry after writing “Dear OJ-comma” was something that I would never ever want to see again. I could not fathom the pain and the heartbreak. I felt her sadness—the thought of losing someone you love. The process of convincing herself that she accepts the reality of things was painful to watch. One minute your life is filled with happy Kodak moments and the next thing, a dark cloud seems to linger and threatens you of gloomy days ahead. I pray for her strength—and OJ’s too.

Countdown: T-minus 11 Hours to the Flight of the OJ-Siris

In the office waiting for OJ’s call was met with anticipation from my end. My brother actually decided to make a last call—and I was flattered and honored. But as I looked at the clock, it was 11:15 a.m. I thought, maybe OJ spent his last minutes with Jen. So, I just sent him a bon voyage text message.

Unlikely Surprise. Minutes after I sent the message, Kay informed that someone was looking for me. I thought it was one of our emotionally dysfunctional clients seeking counseling. Lo and behold, it was OJ! My brother decided to give me a last visit. I was very honored. (Commercial Break: I just cried typing this portion. Okay to continue…) He gave me a shirt as a remembrance. The whole time we were talking, I was tryin to hold back the tears. I was successful for awhile but when it was really time for him to go, we shook hands one last time, hugged, and I lost it. I cried so hard. I waited for myself to calm down. When it was time for him to go board the jeep we flagged down, I gave him a pat on the shoulder. I will never forget the pat he gave me on my hand and the smile he gave me. My brother just gave me my best memory of him. As the jeep drove off, I know everything is going to be fine.


I am so fortunate to have had the opportunity to cross paths and be friends with extraordinary people. It makes living life so damn worthwhile.

Monday, December 06, 2004

Let's Play, "What Does That Mean?"

It has been one hell of a month and I have gathered experiences that have generated some of the most hilarious moments that I shall always carry for the rest of my life. These are represented with the following lines that may be vague to you but carries a LOOOOT of meaning to me. No explanations, just let your imagination take you to unexplored heights and unfathomable depths. (smiles sweetly and naughtily at the same time)

(1) Your welcome….(intonation high on “your”, then drops at “welcome”)

(2) I just love my Bicol Express. It’s so hot—just the way I like it.

(3) Big One is bisexual.

(4) I swear! Eskinol Papaya Facial Scrub contains REAL papaya. Thanks KC Concepcion, my faith in truth in advertising has been restored.

(5) Don’t judge a building by its façade—take Aris Pension House as an example.

(6) I can’t believe that I have a knack for drilling holes.

(7) Western-Pacific in Batangas?

(8) Our strategy to promote TB is ENFU-DESEMENISHUN.

(9) So many cocks, so little time.

(10) I wanna learn the Cebuano dialect.

Have fun with interpretation. :-)

Sunday, December 05, 2004

Ang Patulera

My fellow-Aquarian, kumadre, and best gal pal, Nilda and I have developed a new sub-concept of bitchiness: the PATULERA. The patulera (and patulero) exhibits wit and sarcasm of a true blue bitch and reacts to any situation so long there is an opening to bring out the natural patulera diva in you.

Etymological derivation:

Patol – A Tagalog term which mean “you make patol someone” (colloquial daw c/o Dylan)

-era – A suffix which means “female” (-ero for “males”)

Illustrative Example 1:

We were in a bar/restaurant in Panglao Island, browsing through a menu.

Eric: Anong gusto mong drinks?
Nilda: Basta ako, buko juice. (turns to waiter) Baka naman ten years yan bago ko makuha ang buko juice ha?
Waiter: (points at buko tree) Gusto nyo ngayon ko na ibigay? Aakyat lang naman ako eh.
Me: Wow! Patulero!

Illustrative Example 2:

Waiting for my order in Jollibee by the Cashier.

Crew: Sir, serve ko na lang ang meat FIE nyo.
Me: Ah, okay. FAKI-samahan na din ng FINEAFFLE juice.

(Patulera extraordinaire)

Let the patuleros and patuleras rule…