first time for everything

The other day, Chris lent me one of his books, Haruki Murakami's South of the Border, West of the Sun (or Kokkyō no minami, taiyō no nishi). Previously, he lent me Roald Dahl's Tales of the Unexpected (The Landlady, Taste, and The Way Up to Heaven). Wonderfully twisted and sometimes scary stories that hooked my eyeballs and kept them strained on the pages until the end.

Back to Murakami. I've never read any of his books before South of the Border and I wasn't quite sure what to expect. Especially when Chris handed it to me and said simply, "It's not for prudes." I'm halfway through the book and every night, I have to pry the book from my fingers since I still had work the next morning. More on it when I finish reading.

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At work a few days ago, Rica (

nano_speaks

) sent me a poem from Pablo Neruda. She despises Paulo Coehlo and decided that if I must have mush in my life, then I should have mush in good taste. Anyway, she sent me Tonight I Can Write the Saddest Lines by Pablo Neruda.

Heart wrenching. It feels like somebody rips you heart out, puts it in a blender, hits puree, and adds salt and pepper to taste.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.

Write, for example,'The night is shattered
and the blue stars shiver in the distance.'

The night wind revolves in the sky and sings.








Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
I loved her, and sometimes she loved me too.

Through nights like this one I held her in my arms
I kissed her again and again under the endless sky.

She loved me sometimes, and I loved her too.
How could one not have loved her great still eyes.

Tonight I can write the saddest lines.
To think that I do not have her. To feel that I have lost her.











To hear the immense night, still more immense without her.
And the verse falls to the soul like dew to the pasture.



What does it matter that my love could not keep her.
The night is shattered and she is not with me.


This is all. In the distance someone is singing. In the distance.
My soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

My sight searches for her as though to go to her.
My heart looks for her, and she is not with me.

The same night whitening the same trees.
We, of that time, are no longer the same.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but how I loved her.
My voice tried to find the wind to touch her hearing.

Another's. She will be another's. Like my kisses before.
Her voice. Her bright body. Her infinite eyes.

I no longer love her, that's certain, but maybe I love her.
Love is so short, forgetting is so long.








Because through nights like this one I held her in my arms
my soul is not satisfied that it has lost her.

Though this be the last pain that she makes me suffer
and these the last verses that I write for her.





















This poem spells out what I felt when PEXBF1, PEXGF1,  and PEXBF2 left me behind all those years ago. Weirdly, my heart doesn't ache for them anymore, it's just that my brain feels hurt that it had been so stupid and my pride kicks itself for those momentary periods of insanity. I mean, I did love them (a tad too much) but thankfully, not anymore.

There IS a first time for everything. It just so happened that my firsts for this week were incredibly mushy. Now I feel lonely again. *sigh* Dammit. Hurry up, Mr. Darcy! Where the bloody hell are you? T___T

SS, the pick-me-upper

earlier, i was pissed off bad. murderous bad. well, my shiftmates wouldn't have any of it. Glen's writing another fab (read: fabricated) article.

Glen: The PS3 is ONE... Ah! Ah! Ah! One piece of crap! Ah! Ah! Ah!
Ryan: The Xbox has THREE! Three red rings! Ah! Ah! Ah!

Oh yes. We are called SS or Shift Sarcastic for a reason. And it seems that we're enjoying ourselves, too:

sobra. tayong lahat ata kung pwede ipako na dito e... S1 kicks ass... warm fuzzy feeling!



And then something bittersweet:
wag naman
potah wag talaga

conversations over coffee

i had coffee with Remi earlier and flatmate April last night, and had the most comforting, disturbing conversations with them.

With April, I talked about the vicious cycle of discrimination, very bad managers, people, and life. When we got back to the condo, I was a little sad. A thought was stuck in my mind. April thinks that it is harder to be evil. That good is the "default setting" we all have. I argued that it takes a more conscious effort to be good. That not caring was essentially more energy efficient.

I'd like to think (and hope) that somehow, she's right and I'm wrong. I'd be glad to be wrong in that argument, but then again, something tells me that I'm probably right.

And then she asked me how i can bare my soul in most of what i write, meaning my writings when not at work. I didn't know either.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Rem had been busy the past few months since she's been holding down a freelance writing job and an NGO so we had lots to talk about over coffee.

She told me about her adventures while in La Union last week. They had to (quite literally) hug the side of a mountain to prevent from plunging to their deaths. Picture this, there's a community on the other side of the mountain (situated ON the side of a mountain) and there are only two ways to get there: take a day-long boat ride or walk along a road on the side of the mountain. Too bad they they took the latter option.

I guess the fact that two feet is all that stands between them and the river below didn't sink in until they were hugging the mountainside.

She recounts that their guide had given them fair warning: "Medyo makitid po ung daan, kaya pag nahulog po kayo, dalawa lang po ang pwedeng mangyari. Mauntog kayo sa mga bato pababa at mamatay o mahulog sa tubig at malunod. Pero pwede rin po kayong kumapit sa mga baging dyan (points down)."

So it was cling to the side of the mountain - and for dear life - or fall to inevitable doom. It's good that they got to that community safely, and got back in one piece.

Rica (nano_speaks): Huwow! We should try that sometime.

Another thing we got to talk about are the "band-aid measures" people are bent on using these days. Temporary solutions to big problems that could and will probably lead to cancer if continually plastered with band-aids. Somehow I can imagine that someday, when we remove those little bandages, we'll discover gangrene underneath it all.

Conversations

One thing I love about going home during my off days is the conversations I have with the people at LP. My dad for example, Oyi-chan, and the others provide profound insight on some things. Plus some funny stuff that get stuck in my head Here are some examples:

Dad: You might not not remember your Lola Entang, she migrated to the States. She got so pissed at a black guy, she grabbed the nearest blunt object and thought, 'Teka, ano nga bang english ng patay gutom?'

Patay = Dead
Gutom = Hungry



And so she screamed that and ran after the poor guy. All that while waving a PVC pipe, I think, over her head.

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More to follow...

Undead and Un-sucky

Some of my friends have given me funny looks when I happily told them that I'm currently collecting a chick lit series (Come to think of it, I get funnier looks when they find out that I've read two Paulo Coehlo books). Well, when under stress, I usually look for light and slightly brainless things to entertain me.

Chibi-chan (

skittlebean_lei

) recommended the book, Undead and Unwed by MaryJanice Davidson. During the last big book fair, I bought the second book in the series, Undead and Underappreciated to try out the entire chick lit thing.

I wasn't disappointed.

It's laugh out loud fun. Who wouldn't laugh at words like such:

BabyJon blatted and I felt his diaper get warmer. And heavier. No! Hull integrity would not hold! She's losing it, Captain, she's losing it!

My roomies think that I swallowed two bottles of Prozac when they observe me reading Undead.

I currently have four books in the series, and though the series has some obvious flaws (it's not very consistent with facts, events, and character behavior), I'm still going to buy the next books in the series. It's all about a girl who gets hit by a Pontiac Aztec, dies, wakes up in a morgue, and discovers that she's a vampire. Pretty sucky if you ask me. But come to think about it, what would be suckier? Dying or un-dying?

brings tears to my eyes

....
[12:19:51 PM] <Chris> we have a couple applicants
[12:19:57 PM] <Chris> texted them both
[12:19:59 PM] <Chris> one responded
[12:20:11 PM] <Chris> 'good pm sir/mam, i'd be willing to come in your office tomorrow'
[12:20:13 PM] <Chris> AHAHAHAHAHAHAH
[12:20:35 PM] <Chris> GODDAMN IT HIJA THIS IS NOT THAT KIND OF JOB
[12:20:45 PM] <Chiyo> *gasp*
[12:22:08 PM] <Elai>  weeeeeeeeeh... extra service.... hehehe
[12:22:34 PM] <Chiyo> nyhahahahahahahahahahahaha
[12:23:16 PM] <Chris> LOL! LOL!

God.

Sans Rival of Darkness

Early morning chat messages with co-worker and co-member of SS (Shift Sarcastic).

Glen:
bumili ako ng 1 box ng sansrival to celebrate undas.
Glen: 200 pesos
Glen: aaminin ko....
Glen: mas astig pa ginawa nyo!
Glen: hehe

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Another hapless person falls into the trap of my insidious culinary skills. Actually, it was a joint project of the root of all evil, nano_speaks and the Overlord Noreen, so you can probably tell what the end product would be.

*cue Captain Planet music* With your powers combined, I am Captain Pl-- er... moving on.

The sans rival in question was made - no, "created" at the condo, after hours upon hours of stirring and whipping and beating. The damned thing just refused to be the right consistency. In the end, it turned out fine.

Who said I couldn't fluff?

The sans rival of evil (needless to say, it should be called such) was brought to the office and unleashed upon the unsuspecting hungry masses. It was over before anybody could pass gas or burp. What can I say? The triumvirate of evil can not only bitch, bully, and unleash laser beams of death, but can also make sans rival.

Oh, and Glen, you can count on some sans rival when I finally decide to make some myself. I alone probably won't be able to imbue it with the evil necessary for its creation but I'll do my best.

Will you still love me when I'm 24?

The past week has been crazy, busy, surreal, lethargic - in a nutshell, it has been a roller coaster ride of sorts. Well, it all started with last Friday.

nano_speaks had planned an all-out wakasan party to be held at the condo. She needed to get drunk, incidentally, so did Mabie, Annabs, Rem, Chris and me, and it just so happened that October 26 was within the vicinity of my birthday. She scheduled it three weeks before said date, but the best laid plans failed at the last minute. Rica got sick (a very valid excuse), while Rem had a sudden urgent conference for her NGO (also a very valid excuse). Also, I found out that Annabs was currently "out of it", so I canceled.

I just asked Chris out for coffee. Of course, I had to wait until he gets off work at 4, which was okay since I needed to send out some emails anyway. In a bad twist,kalendaryo lost his wallet and slept in the gaming room until the accounting office coughed up his salary in cash. He heard that we were going out for coffee and so he offered to wait with me at the coffee shop until Chris got off work. I texted Mabie to see if she wanted to come with and she suggested Bretton.

And so off we went. It was pretty fun talking with Karl again. Let's just say we've been uncommunicative the past few weeks, he's dead tired and sleepy in the morning while I'm sleepy and cranky (arguably, all the time).

Needless to say, I enjoyed that everything-went-wrong day and it turned out into something fun. Thanks goes to Karl for the Cafe Liegeois (my second favorite coffee) and the something-Pinay crepe, plus Mabie, Chris, and Karl for the company.

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Then comes Carmel on October 27 who jolted me to wakefulness with this text message: "dude, manganganak na ako." On the 30th, she pops up again with, "Give me suggestions for a name." It's a baby boy by the way, though he'll have to spend some days in an incubator since he's premature.

No name yet, but I vehemently expressed opposition to "Rayver."

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October 29 started crazy and got worse in a hurry. I barely had any sleep due to a bad case of insomnia (I've been getting less sleep than usual the past few weeks, hence getting more lates). I was lone editor for the SS (Shift Sarcastic) since Rica was out. In addition to the usual insane Monday deadlines, I also had to fix the team building stuff. After the shift, I had to wait for Chris for our meeting with the "professional" named "Jhun." I'm sorry but I really found it hard to take the guy seriously based simply on how he spelled his name. (Later, I discovered that his real name was Maximo and I kinda forgave him for the extra H.)

Meeting ended at around 6 or 7-ish, and Chris neatly placed the cherry on top of my day by saying, "He was SO hitting on you." I rolled my eyes and gave him my patented WTF look.

And so I dragged my weary ass into a cab and headed for home. When finally got to the condo, I staggered straight to the room, only mustering half-hearted hellos to my roomies. They were all there, April, Jen, and Cha plus Mark. I should have known.

Jen went inside the room and asked, "Dude, are you going to sleep na?" I was still resting my oh-so-tired carcass and couldn't drop into unconsciousness straight away so I held up my new book (Undead and Unpopular) and waved it around. "Still reading."

Famous last words.

Roomie Jen exits and there was a bit of commotion outside the door. Three tentative knocks, then "Choch?"

More weirded out than irritated, i thought, 'What, she locked herself out?' I unplaster myself from the bed and haplessly opened the door to a single candle atop a blueberry cheese cake (I could smell it). My crazy roomies were huddled in the hallway shouting, "Surprise!"

You guys are crazy, I said as I faced them in my usual sando, shorts, and disheveled hair.

"Get dressed, we're going out," says April. So I did.

We trooped into Mark's Innova (his Honda is still sitting in some parking lot in Valero) and drove to Timog. The last time I was there was... wait, what year is this? Anyway, we ended up in Behrouz (our eyebrows went into orbit due to the uncouth waitress' unbelievably rude manners) and scuttled to Starbucks afterwards. I was about to drop dead so we went home. Then I collapsed to bed and snored until 1 in the afternoon.

Thanks guys. For throwing me my first birthday surprise and for letting me know that you remembered.

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Hmm... I feel oddly, I dunno... detached? Weird? It's been a crazy week and somehow I feel like I don't fit in my own skin. Maybe it's just that I haven't slept at all today and this heady feeling is just my brain shutting down slowly. Anyway, my traditional birthday post will have to wait until later.