A Steely Girl’s Speculations

    I thought my first encounter with a cop would be so frightening that I would pee my pants.  But it wasn’t frightening at all and was rather quite funny.
    We had a surprise birthday party for Marwen at our place.  On a Saturday night,we thought we had a right to be drunk and be rambunctious- everyone was hopping around, swaying sideways, and shouting over the music.  It was fun for everyone, or so we thought.  Our neighbors, who must be retarded old monsters from Mars, took it as their civil duty to call the cops on us.  Ayie opened the door and there were two uniformed cops standing ominously, glaring at me.
    Please note that the only cops I had ever close encounters with are: Joy, who is drunk most of the time and cannot be taken seriously (haha! joke Joy!); Tony and Mike who were both in their swimwear when I met them making them vulnerable and thus cannot be feared; and Richie who dances more gracefully than me and is too funny to be a cop.  These four people are not cops to me, they’re friends.
    But those two cops on my doorway were not friendly.  Drunk little old me was too out of it to care.  It was too late when I realized that I still had my cran-vodka in one hand and a large bottle of whipped cream on the other (yes,whipped cream.  It was that kind of party).  The whole time I was talking to them, I was trying to steady myself and not sway and fall on their feet.  The cops sternly got my name and other information.  Instead of considering the graveness of the situation, I kept staring at one of the cop’s mouth.  He had a white dental band on his front upper teeth tied to his front lower teeth. He couldn’t open his mouth very much and everytime he talked the dental band would get in the way of his tongue causing him to lisp.

    "I donth want tho thpoil your party.  It’th thwo AM and your neighborth are complaining dat dey can’t thleep from da noith"
    "Oh I’m sorry officer," I said.  Amazing how a drunken girl can understand a lisping cop!
    "Form the outhhide, while walking here, we could hear da muthic."
    "Oh, " was all I could reply to that.
    "If you donth keep the noith and muthic down, we’re gonna come back and give you a thummons"
    Summons.  I have been law-abiding my whole life, and although I knew summons was a scary word, as in "Oh no I got a f**king summons!", I did not know what it technically meant.  Was I going to jail?  Or were we ALL going to jail?  So the party was going to be moved to a prison cell? Haha.
    Anyway, I said okay and thanked them for the warning.  Needless to say the party died after that and after I found out what summons really meant.  We all cursed our neighbors and wanted to make more noise.  But we were all just too tired and went to sleep.
    Now my mission is to find out which neighbor turned us in.  I believe in the saying "Love thy neighbors" so I am going to give them a sruprise for new year.  Fruitcake– lovingly baked by my own hands, my bad bad bad, unwashed, filthy I-dont-know-where-they’ve-been little hands.  If I run out of fruit juice, I might just replace it with… Okay! This last part is a joke! Don’t turn me in, I’m too pretty to go to jail.
    Have a wild new year’s eve everyone! May your party be as wild as ours and may the lisping cop not visit you.
    More Success for 2007 to all!

    Sayo sa buntag, nitawag akong usa ka kaila aron mangumusta.  Usa sa pinakauna niyang pangutana,
    "Minyo naka?"
    Siempre, ang akong tubag, "Wa pa uy."
    Ang iyang reaksyon, nga klaro kaayong nalisang gyud: "Hala uy, ngano wa pa man ka naminyo?  Pila nama’y edad nimo!??"
    Naaaaa, pisti nalang.  Ngano man diay ug bento-otso nako unya wa pa ko naminyo?  Magbuot ka nga di man ko ganahan magminyo?
    Nganong big deal man kaayo ning pagminyo ba?  O lagi, buot pasabot, naila-ila na nimo ang imong "soul mate" kunohay.  Pero kung di diay nimo ganahan minyoon, abnormal na ba ka?  Dili ba ang saktong pangutana, bisan corny paminawon, "Kumusta imong love life?" Ataaaay, shiettt kabidli baya.haha.
    Kung sila mu-isturya,kinahanglan naminyo na ko sa akong edad.  Unsa man diay ng pagminyo, accomplishment?  Same category ba na siya sa "Naka-graduate naka?", "Naka-trabaho naka?", "Na-milyonaryo naka?", "Namatay naka ug nalangit naka". Naminyo naka?  Naa ba na siya’y time limit nga kinahanglan jud karon ako ng buhaton.  Kung di nako buhaton, maunsa man ko, musilaob ba ko?
    Kinahanglan ba nga sundon nako ang tanan nga paghuman ug eskwela magminyo ko?  Sayop ba ko kay wa ko magminyo pagkagraduate nako?  Naa man koy laing gibuhat nga nakapalipay nako bisan wa ko magminyo, sayop ba?  Kung klase pa ni akong kinabuhi, gihagbong na ba ko sa professor kay "not following instructions" ko?
    Dili baya sa tanan taw accomplishment ang pagminyo.  Ang dakong accomplishment kay kung nasugatan nimo ang taw nga maka-kompleto nimo ug imong gihigugma pag ayo.  Pero ang pagminyo, bisan nindot, dili baya kinahanglan.  Mao nay gitawag nga optional or "results may vary".  Pero para ra ni nako ha.  Ambot sa uban.
    Makasabot ko kung pangutan-on ko "Wa pa kay anak?  Hala uy, ngano wa man? Pila namay edad nimo?"  Kay labing sigurado, ang pagka-inahan usa ka dakong accomplishment.  Saludo ko sa tanan nga inahan sa kalibutan. 
    Wa ko nanaway o nanghusga sa mga minyo na.  Ayaw ko sayopa pagsabot.  Dili kana ang akong puntos diri.  Ang akong puntos, "What works for you will not necessarily work for everyone else."  Kung di diay ganahan magminyo ang usa ka tawo, pero malipayon nga nag live-in? Or di ba kaha, minyo na ang iyang soulmate ug kontento lang siya nga kabit?  Or di ba kaha, malipayon lang maginusara sa kinabuhi?
    Aw hinoon, mingaw tingali kung maabot na ko sa sietenta’y anyos ug di pa ko minyo. Pero kung mapugos ko magminyo kay tungod naapsan na ko sa panahon, di kaha ko magpamisti kada adlaw kay lami kaayong dunggabon ug kutchara ang akong nabana? Kung maminyo ko sa pugos, di kaha mang ulbo akong kaspa sa kalagot kay naay tawo nga amaw nga gapatong ug gakiyod nako kada gabii? Dili kaha ko magsuka sa kalood?
    Ang ako lang gusto ipasabot, ang pagminyo usa na sa mga pilianan sa imong mga "ideal happily ever after stories".  Pero naay uban, usa nako, nga lahi ang panglantaw sa kinabuhi.  Di ko minyo, pero malipayon ko.  Ikaw kaha, malipayon ba?

I look at you and I feel ugly.  When others look at you, stare,or look away, I feel uglier.
I close my eyes and touch you…slightly raised, rubbery, freakish. I am ugly.
I am hideous. I am frightful.
I am scarred for life.

    I was young, drunk on top of a hill with friends.  The hill was haunted or maybe the ghosts were alcohol-induced.  Scared out of our minds, we raced down the hill.  One of us stumbled and we all fell on top of each other.  We rolled down the bottom of the hill like a giant ball. I banged my knee on a rock and was marked for life.  But I stood up laughing and had a great story to tell my grandkids –>>on my left knee

    A crate of firewood standing on a corner and I had to hit it with my leg.  The 3-inch cut bled like an open hose and stung like hell. That night, we punished the guilty piece of firewood and made the biggest bonfire Pennsylvania had ever seen.  We sat around it all night, telling stories and laughing. –>> on the outer side of my right leg

    I was late for a date.  I was shaving at top speed in the shower. Swoosh swoosh swoosh.  I slipped and cut my ankle.  I swear the cut was SMILING at me, too widely I believe, and was obviously mocking me!  Time stopped as I waited to see blood.  I held my breath. Tick…tock… Time suddenly lurched forward and I saw gallons and gallons of bright red blood,spurting like a fountain,gushing like a river.  I watched my blood go down the drain.  What a waste of blood, I said.  I imagined a thirsty vampire under the drain drinking my blood, savoring every drop, licking his lips. *slurp slurp slurp* Coincidentally, my cut was as deep as vampire puncture wounds. Something about it all turned me on — being wet and naked in the shower, blood oozing out of my flesh, a handsome vampire under the drain drinking a part of me. And with every beat of my heart, he swallows.  Ooh, sexy! Hehe. But hilarious.  It must have been the loss of blood, but I was giggling as I finished shaving myself.  Needless to say, my date was oh so pleased that I was in a very good mood.–>> on my left ankle

    Stretch marks because I gained a few pounds. Long, thin, white lines on my hips.  I am convinced that they stretch longer each time I laugh.  And from the looks of it, I have laughed a million hearty ha-ha’s. If I was any happier, my stretch marks could pass for a thick belt,worn low below the waist –>> on my hips and on places I can’t see no matter how I try.

    A rock, a piece of wood, a razor and a few pounds– all culprits of disfiguring me.  But my scars are proof that I am stronger than whatever it was that tried to hurt me.  I got marked. But I’m still whole.
    True, I can never be as flawless as other girls anymore.  I admit that up to a point, I am envious of their perfection.  But the more I think about it, the more I realize that although they may be perfect,  they are just so boring. They may still have the luscious skin they were born with –creamy, smooth and untainted.  But that also means that they still have the lives they were born with — smothered, overprotected and stifled.   They have lived a baby’s life, and their skins tell baby stories.  *goo goo gaa gaah *

    I am imperfect.  And so I am interesting.
    I am scarred.  And so I am beautiful.
    I am scarred for life.  And so I am beautiful forever.

Another alarm, another "5 minutes more", another shower — will i stay clean this time?
Another breakfast, another cup of coffee, another coffee stain on my shirt — shit!
Another rush out the door, another traffic jam, another day late for work — shit shit shit!

Another phone call, another fax, one more phone call, one more fax–
Another meeting, another plan — will this work this time?!
Another cup of coffee, another stain—UGH!
Another meeting, one more phone call, another plan.
Another hope— I cross my fingers another time.
Another 5 o’clock. Another trip home.

Another tv program, one more tv program, and another one…plus one more!
Another hour. Another hour. Another hour.
Another "I’ll exercise tomorrow", another pound gained—shit shit shit!
Another bed time, Another day gone by.
Another nightmare.
Another day.Tomorrow. Another day.

I try not to. But sometimes, I remember what I should not…

When I was new here in the East Coast, you took me out,probably just to be nice since we were "old friends".  We were with a group of people at some lounge in the city.  You were text messaging some of our common friends in Cebu, and u read their messages out to me: "So-and-so says Hi!" or "What’s-her-name says Kumusta ka".  It was a fun night. We were laughing,reminiscing, and I thought nothing could go wrong.

But your phone was giving up on you that night;  the LCD kept going blank.  We had the same phone model then, so you asked me to tinker with it to see if i could fix it. 

I was holding your phone when our "common friends" sent you a text message. I accidentally opened it. Surprise! It was about me. 

I should have returned the phone to you right there and then.  But I couldn’t stop reading.  Their message was a reply to a message u had sent them. And from the looks of it, they were agreeing with what u just said. Their reply was also about some pretty nasty things about me, some name-calling and laughing at my expense. I handed the  phone back to you with an apology coz I couldn’t fix it.  I’m not sure if u ever read that message. I left it in your inbox. I didn’t delete it.

Amazing how I kept my poise and didn’t just walk out on you. You were across the table from me the whole time.  None of you noticed anything coz I tried to keep a stoic face. It was torture staying until we were all ready to go and call it a night. I even thanked you for a wonderful time.

Until now, I haven’t told anyone about that incident.   But it haunts me up to this very day.

MORAL OF THE STORY :
Kung manglibak ka, ayaw gamit ug Nokia phone nga gubaon ug LCD.
Kung maglibak ka, ayaw ipaayo imo phone sa imong gilibak.

Ug, pinakaimportante sa tanan…

AYAW BASAHA ANG MESSAGE KUNG DILI PARA IMO! Da! hilabtanon man gud ko!Atay uy!

Whenever I wanna kill myself because the world has been cruel, I convince others to jump off instead.
I convince them that the world still needs me, but not them;
that I am valuable, while they are dispensable.
When they finally jump off , flailing about as their feet leave the ground…
I smile.
My faith in mankind is renewed—
People can still be selfless after all.

Yes, I’m a sicko.
But at least i’m no sucker.

We’re both blind, would you gloat everyday and tell me someone donated you an eye?
We’re both one-legged. Would you gloat every minute and tell me about how someone has given u a shoe and a whole leg?
We’re both suffering from dandruff. Would you gloat and tell me how u found a cure that only works for you?
We’re both penniless. Would you gloat every minute and tell me about how u won a million dollars in the lottery?
We both get a flat tire on the highway. Would you drive by me and wave goodbye coz u have a spare and I don’t?

PS.  I really dont remember writing this.  I just noticed this was in my draft folder,dated June 21,2005 at 8:42AM. I guess i was really pissed at someone then. But I don’t remember… I must be getting really old. Getting angry like that, and not remembering why, or who I’m angry at. Im a cantankerous little old lady. Pardon me…

Sirius dead in Book 5.  Dumbledore dead in Book 6. Aaaaahhhhhh!!!! What’s gonna happen to the world? My scar is hurting…it’s burning…help help! I see a vision…it’s V-V-Voldemort!!!  Oh no, wait…it’s Willy Wonka!(clap clap clap!) He’s coming to invite me to live in the GOYA Fun Factory.Can I play Quidditch there? with the Oompa Loompas? He looks at me and says "Are you ready to go,Harry?" I eagerly nod my head and say…

Wait a darn-tooting-minute! I seem to have gotten the stories all mixed up. hmmmm… WWWWWWWWAAAAHHHH,Dumbledore’s dead! =(

In yesterday’s mail, I received my Identification Card for Neeewwww Yoorrrrrkkkk Uniiiiiiiiversityyyyyyyyy! So it’s official!!! (See me jumping!??!?! See me with a big smile on my face?!!?!)So I looked at it, smelled it,  John Hancock-ed it, and almost framed it. I’m an NYU student! (BOW!!!teeheee! Can I take another bow? Sure I cannnnnnn…BOWWWWWWW!!!!) In the fall, I’ll be taking my Public Relations Class on Tuesdays. On other days, I’ll be working full time. I’m so excited, I can’t sit still. Somebody want to dance around with me?!?!?

My family knows the turmoil going on in my life.  They know that living on my own is difficult in this land of independence.

I lived a sheltered life, which makes living away from home even harder.  As far as I can remember, I always have been a daughter, a little girl, who never had to ask for anything.  In my mind, my two sisters and I were, with all the pampering and indulgence associated with the title, very lucky Princesses.

Then one day, although my parents didn’t push me, I decided to be an adult. Suddenly, I had to work for everything. I found out it’s not easy taking care of myself, oceans away from the luxuries of the home I grew up in.

Today,my father asked me if despite the problems i face everyday, if i still feel loved and at peace. Surprised by the question, and even more surprised because I knew the answer without even thinking about it, I said,"Yes, most of the time, yes."

My father, with obvious relief, said,"Then it works."

I asked,"what works?"

He answered, "Everytime I pray, I ask the angels to fly to you and embrace you…to make you feel how much you are loved."

I cried. I felt the angels embracing me again.