Single’s plague

It’s been five years since my last relationship. Five years and counting. Though most of the time I’m not complaining, as friends with relationships who text me in the middle of the night about boyfriend issues bother me, I found it embedded in my system to consider the no-relationship stage a perk and a privilege.

It has come to test, matters which I thought I believe in and I thought I was happy with will strike as odd and somewhat absurd.

Last month, Martin was unleashing the inner manghuhula in himself as he sets out with the prediction that my next boyfriend’s name will be Leo. I laughed it off. Leo? Wow that’s 1970s and too brusque for a name.

Boy, how heavens love to play on mortals when they permit.

I met Leo last night.

It started out that we met in cyberspace in Grindr, then we were texting. I didn’t find it odd that he might be looking for just a booty call, well. After almost a month of me playing hard to get, I finally decided to go meet him last night.

We swung by Ice Giants to buy some strawberry sundae and then drove all the way to Matina to see the Davao Baywalk. Sea, stars, a good Saturday night and bunch of youngsters playing guitars by the bay while drinking.

It was my first date after five years.

I was quite surprised with the man. He spoke well. He was very well-mannered. He was “the sensitive” and the feelings-person. We talked about movies, music, food and everything between intellectual things and mischief. He’s a funny guy and I was starting to like this man, though I don’t usually realize that on the first date.

But then again, I have to dismiss whatever minute feelings outright right there and then. It would be a travesty of logic to fall for a man who’s leaving Davao to return from his month-long vacation.

When my friend Monique asked me how the date went, I said it was fun. Cheap one liners to hide that I really regretted giving myself a chance to see what good there is to dating again only to find out that I don’t have a chance with it. Cheap one liners in reply to Leo’s text saying I enjoyed the night, half wishing there be another night or two to spend with. Cheap one liners in post-its reminding myself to focus with law school first and after that, everything will fall into place, including matters of the heart.

They say good things happen to those who wait. They say that there’s someone out there who’s right for you. They say what will come will come and you will meet it when it did. They say that.

I say to myself, well, nice try. 🙂

Hiatus

I am absenting myself in school today. Whatever, absences. Whatever, plus points for perfect attendance. Whatever, world.

I just don’t care. May I stopped caring.

But I’m not quitting yet. Not just yet.

I am just allowing myself some leeway to withdraw from severe desensitization at school. No pressure, no worries. These are like the breaks when you have to pee or puke in the sink after long hours of wrestling with alcohol. I have to break free a little bit and be carefree for once.

I read from a bar topnotcher once that law school is a wounding experience. I have to allow myself to recover. Give myself a quick hiatus.

I will return. I will be more. Soon.

But I need this now. 🙂

Updates 101

There’s not much about me lately. A law student’s life is utterly boring, except for the daily harshness of the rigors of the academe. There are those who are gifted with the talent of juggling work life, love life and academe life, I on the other hand isn’t lucky enough to get those three except the last. I know I know, it’s boring and pasty, but it needs a little getting used to.

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Valentine’s day was fine. Okay, it was so-so. I received flowers from Nor and Naiza, law school friends. It was a rainy night so I have to go home early. I watched Glee’s latest episode after drying up, then Cham texted to invite me to a group date at Coco’s South Bistro with Brian, Shajani, Tateen and Tine. We ordered so much we can’t push all the things we ordered to our tummy. Ending? Take out boxes. The rest of the night was spent watching a Thai movie “Crazy little thing called love” in my bed.

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Love life? Let me rate it from zero to negative infinity. I do have a crush, yes, but the chances of even a little reciprocation is nearer to never. I allowed a friend to tell a crush about my feelings, but alas, things just got even awkward. Strict policy starting now, no more telling about feelings, lest I want to be creepy.

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My family just recently acquired a fish pond in Punta Biao. Mama’s been putting down of our savings to start with the investment. She phones me about the price of feeds, maintenance, down to employee relations. Papa has to stay offshore almost everyday after office hours to take a look at the site. And recently we also had to cancel the family trip to Cebu to give way to this. So whenever I run out of money for school and living expenses, there’s always that holding back to ask too much. I understand it has to be that hard now since things are a little bit shaky. I do hope the recovery of investment will make it all worthwhile.

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I am thinking about closing down my Twitter account. It’s been causing me too much of a distraction. I end up staying a little bit more than I have intended for a single night. Sometimes it’s a time-wasting device that deprives me of the much needed hours for studying and sleeping. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy socializing with people I wouldn’t even talk to in real life but would love to tweet with. It’s just that, I have different priorities now, especially that Finals week is just days away.

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Today is my midterms examination for Negotiable Instruments. Last week I had to catch up on doing typing jobs and digesting cases while studying for another exam (Social Legislation). Why? I have to do a reviewer, which I promised myself as a personal devotion. My Nego teacher, during her law school days, has always been an angel with making notes and digests of almost everything under the sun. It occurred to me, that if the tradition of making notes stopped with her, then it’s just a dead tradition of leeching notes. And the law, as they say, is a dynamic creature, we students need to be updated with the latest jurisprudence and enactments. Coming up with a 37-paged notes wasn’t a breeze. Nevertheless it gave me a lot of blessings. Good karma begets good karma. I received a lot of thank-you’s from my classmates. I’m also confident with the upcoming exams, as I treaded down on every full text to make sure I don’t miss anything in my notes. Whenever I’m typing, I also try to memorize what I write. It’s a total time-saver. Students should try making their own notes, too. 🙂

Repost: Bye bye, baby

Bye bye, baby
Philippine Daily Inquirer
First Posted 01:17:00 05/05/2009

I couldn’t say no. I couldn’t grunt in protest or ask why. I just said yes, and nodded even though I meant no. And I couldn’t get off the wooden chair because I felt so heavy with disappointment and shame. After that discussion over dinner, the term adult never looked as vague to me. I thought it wasn’t real, just a cute accessory that looked like gold but was fake or the robe the emperor thought he was wearing when in fact he was naked.

Recently, my parents rejected my plan to work in Manila. I wouldn’t survive it, they predicted. I was devastated.

Here’s the thing. I have always been good with goodbyes. I move on very easily after I lose a phone, and it is not because I don’t realize its value but because I know that I gave a stranger an advanced Christmas gift. When a loved one leaves for foreign shores, I know that he would be better off there. Or when I drop a coin, I just think about how it will travel around the country or land in the hands of somebody who needs it badly. I have this positive outlook on goodbyes, but I guess I didn’t acquire it genetically.

Whenever I think of kindergarten, I am reminded of the birds. Our teacher told the story after siesta time when the other kids were still feeling sleepy. I didn’t know for what purpose she told it, but I am sure it made a lot of sense to me.

She told us that birds make good parents. They build nests for their young, feed them every day, and protect them from predators. But there is one thing grown-ups don’t do for their young and that is to teach them how to fly. They don’t teach their young how to flap their wings or glide in the air. In fact, biologists tell us that some parents simply push their chicks out of their nest so that they will learn how to fly. It’s nature’s way of saying that learning does not always have to be vicarious. Those young birds will have to learn flying the hard way.

Today I am 20, a fresh graduate from college, and unemployed. I still live with my parents in our rural home. Our family is not well-off so working is the next step for me.

It came as a shock to me when my parents said they wanted me to stay in town. It looks like a good idea—if I can find my first job here. I will have free meals, a privilege I didn’t have when I lived in the city and went to the university. I will get free rides, even though I don’t really mind commuting. I will have free board and lodging, too. So staying is a very practical move.

But it doesn’t seem to be much of a challenge to me. I soon found myself thinking about how boring it would be to wake up each morning to the sound of cocks crowing and see the same old neighborhood when I walk out of our gate. Soon, I will be sleeping all day long during weekends and whine that our hometown doesn’t have a movie house. My mom will still be washing my clothes and ironing them, afraid that I might burn all my shirts on the ironing board. In the long run, I will die from feeling bad about not being a responsible adult.

Here’s what I want to do: I want to burn eggs in the pan, dislike the taste of my coffee after putting too much sugar into it, and make a few chrysanthemums in the backyard wilt. I want to do things so badly that I would be determined to learn how to cook, to make a good coffee or do some gardening. I want to destroy a shirt on the ironing board. I want to burn one, two, or three, until I learn to slide the iron well.

But I wouldn’t be able to fend for myself if I stay in town. I want to make things right by knowing what is wrong. I want to commit mistakes and learn from them, not by having somebody lay down the moral of every story. I want to answer the quiz first before I learn the concepts.

I do well with goodbyes, but being independent is not the kind of goodbye that is easy to say. In the case of parting with my parents, it would mean leaving my comfort zone—the lovely home that nurtured me well and gave me the best of everything. Nobody will be waking up baby in the morning so he can eat a ready-made breakfast; I’d have to make one myself. Nobody is looking out for baby while he is at play; I’d have to manage my own affairs. Nobody is feeding baby the right formula; I’d be responsible for putting food on my table. Nobody’s chewing for baby before he swallows the food because you see, baby has to be a man.

I appreciate the effort of my parents to make things easy for me, but I think I wouldn’t be able to appreciate adulthood if I don’t see its face. I cannot afford to learn the basics when I’m already 40, which would be a great pity. There’s no better time than now for me to start acting like an adult.

Harsh and risky as it may sound, I think it’s time my parents pushed me out of the nest. Perhaps I will fall the first time and get some limbs broken and bruised. The second time, I might still struggle to stay in the air. But after that, who knows, I might be able to complete my first flight to the next tree. I will fall sooner or later, so that I can rise up again and fly. Learning to fly alone is worth the risk.

see link at http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20090505-203112/Bye-bye-baby

Homecoming

I had written a blog before.

It had existed for three years or so, which, I virtually scribbled with every detail of my college timeline. It had to be the outlet which I constantly go to whenever the lone thesis proved to be so stubborn to interpret, or when random flirtations would befall. True, I had fun with my old blogspot account. I posted pictures, stories and even blind items too revealing for the ordinary reading comprehension.

There existed some sort of connection between me and my old blog. But soon I found it too cumbersome to maintain. Law school was getting too taxing and the thought of pouring every bit of my creative spirits to something I shouldn’t be doing except studying, was not the dream. The dream was to make life less complicated by not rereading the mistakes I did two, three or four years ago, with what silliness I had done.

But there has to be something wrong. I found myself writing in 140 characters that summed up my feelings for the moment. No wonder it also curbed my ability to think in vast planes.

I had written a blog before. And I missed it. Every bit of it – the ones I tore down because I felt I have to change. It felt like the old blog was getting more and more irrelevant each day.

But I didn’t change. I just moved on. I do not when or how or why I did, but I did.

Now, I feel like coming home to the one I used to love, writing. Writing sans limits and sans fear. The only possible step-back right now it putting overly-rationalized crap in it. But crap is relative and rationality is sometimes immaterial. So what the hell.

I had written a blog before. I abandoned it. And now, I’m back for more.