SEPTEMBER 30, 2003 (TUESDAY)

Had a v. tiring yet v. productive day. Managed to haul myself out of bed by 7.30, though discovered to my chagrin that my skin asthma had struck again. Took medicine, and managed to clean myself well enough to get to Philcoa at around 8.45. Took an FX to Intramuros all by my lonesome and didn't get lost once! 'Course there was a bit of confusion with pedicab driver re. directions to NCCA. Managed to get there with about five minutes to spare. Was with Peter Mayshll (I've no idea how to spell his name), who was nice enough and is some sort of a cutie.

Was with Vlad and Anna (Writers Club people) and Bey-vis. Turned out we (Bey-vis and I) were two of the youngest in the 40 new authors, both being born in 1984. Wow. Pretty cool. Meeting dragged on until lunchtime, and NCCA paid for our food (Jollibee Chickenjoy). Was surprised to find out that two of my "ate"s from UP Mindanao also made it to the cut for Fiction in English: Ate Mildred and Ate Arifah. Had a class with Wendell by 2.30 so said my goodbyes to the people who were still going around to explore Intramuros. Want to bring Peloy there one of these days kasi gustong-gusto ko talaga yung wharf sa Manila Bay, at yung Malate area 'pag gabi -- all those twinkly little lights. There's still that charm that Old Manila has that's practically nonexistent these days. Intramuros and the surrounding area is a walker's haven because it's so pedestrian-friendly. Lito Atienza did wonders to that place, though I must question the sanity of whoever designed the funny streetlamps along Manila Bay.

Still have two papers to write by this weekend, as well as final exam to pass. And then my semester's over, and a part of my life as well. It's hard growing up, innit? I miss my friends all of a sudden.

New Poems!

Which was a product of a weekend of sitting on my ass and watching TV in a vain attempt to write an academic paper.

PATIENCE

1.

These are the quiet days, when
birdsong reminds me of childhood
and only the whir of the electric fan
breaks the monotony of the afternoon

plodding at a turtle's pace. Lying
is either an art or a way of living,
you say, turning on your back so
I wouldn't see you face. We are both

on the bed, waiting for the clock
to strike six so that life can start.

2.

We meet them with painted faces,
the smile of the harlequin. Let the masquerade
begin; you fling your arms wide
as if to encompass the evening sky.

I stand by your side, a silent shadow
almost floating off the pavement. You take
my hand, you lead, you forget
that I am always following

something that I can't quite
remember.

3.

Dawn has a way of creeping up on us
when we aren't aware: that insidious light
breaking the pretense of darkness.
You've drunk you last bottle

and we are dancing across an empty street
to music we can't hear. I can smell the bitter
tang on your breath and pretend that
it's the taste of the sea.

Can't you see that I am always
trying to pull away?

(28 September 2003)

DESIRE

Weariness stretches in front of my eyes
like a threadbare blanket, like a lazy afternoon,
like your form on the mattress, sinuously undecided
whether to get up or surrender. We have thrown
out all the clocks, and forgot to clean up
lunchtime's dishes -- I can hear the pitter-patter
of a thousand cockroaches invading the kitchen.

A thousand? you say incredulously, yawning.

I wanted to tell you that the black carapace sea
knows no boundaries, respects no land,
takes no prisoners. They surge and swell without wind,
taking over the white-tiled kitchen, leaving
nothing but bare bones and skid marks. You're not
listening; you nod once and sink back
into the depths of sleep.

I can hear them just outside the door.

(28 September 2003)

SEPTEMBER 26, 2003 (FRIDAY)

Fluff Night

Watched television for the first time in history. Well, for almost a month, I guess. I can hardly remember, because what I use to measure the length I’ve gone without watching TV are the music videos that I haven’t seen before. (Digression: saw the new Jason Mraz video, as well as the live performance of Matchbox Twenty, so that was good enough for me.) Also watched Atlantis on Disney and My Best Friend’s Wedding again. I can still remember the words to “Wishin’ and Hopin’” as well as the immortal, “Say A Little Prayer.” I absolutely adore Rupert Everett in that particular movie – although I also enjoyed him in that adaptation of Oscar Wilde’s The Importance of Being Earnest.

And speaking of movies, also saw Once Upon a Time in Mexico today with Peloy. Although never saw the first two of the El Mariachi trilogy, Johnny Depp and Antonio Banderas were enough to enjoy this movie. ‘Course, got completely lost midway through as to who was double-crossing who, so ended up just enjoying the one-liners and the gunfights. I finally realized how creative one can get with guitar cases. Best line comes from Salma Hayek as they jumped from the window: “Puta madre!”

The Sweetest Thing

I know people hate it when one gushes about one’s significant other, but in this case, permit me to deviate. I think I can finally talk how much I love Peloy.

It wasn’t so much that I can’t talk about it, but it’s this great big ball of feeling that I can’t completely squish together and so it just ends up in that nice little hope chest in the back of my mind that’s labeled “Boyfriend” and I just hate how it’s getting so disorganized because I just throw random things in it and I hate the fact that I can’t rationalize it, but the one realizes that one just can’t rationalize about this because, duh, stupider things have been done in the name of love.

At any rate, we were wandering around Quezon Memorial Park (and I was wondering at the inordinate number of couples that were on the benches this lazy Friday afternoon) and we plopped on this stone bench-and-table thing and he was lying on my lap and we were watching the afternoon sun slowly drop behind the acacia leaves and talking about random things, and then he just closes his eyes and holds my hand to his chest and I know he needs to rest because God knows he barely gets enough sleep at night…

Anyway, he’s dozing off with that contented look on his face and I just can’t help but gaze at him (and yes, I do have a habit of just staring when he’s sleeping and it’s just creepy, I know) for what seemed like forever and everyone just knows how I abhor being inactive and not doing anything because I’m always rushing around doing this and that, but just for that particular moment, the world just stopped and there was nothing but the golden spattering of sunlight on the ground and the rustle of the leaves and his warm, reassuring weight.

And God knows I’ve been “independent” for so long that I’m almost relishing the change of being part of something else, of actually belonging to someone, of knowing that there’s someone in the world – whether he’s beside me or somewhere else – that I know loves me for being me, yes, who loves me even though I’m makulit as hell and can’t sing a note and for being chubby and noisy and all those little imperfections that we always thought would ruin our chances in the relationship department.

And it’s amazing for someone with such a short attention span, i.e. me, to just spend her day wandering around – and I actually ditch my schedule nowadays! I don’t know. Tonight at dinner, Tatay commented that I was happier nowadays, and not so prone to being irritable and easily annoyed. I think Bea’s enjoying it too, that she has an Ate who doesn’t snap at her almost every day (but then that’s prolly ‘cos I’m not home most of the time, but still…) and I don’t know, things are just seeming to fall into place.

Back to Reality

And yes, next week’s the last week of school, and while three out of six of my requirements are done already, the bloody part’s about to begin.

Still to do: a paper for CL 151 about young adult lit, and the sources are ever-so-difficult to find; a paper for English 42 about Adrienne Rich and Sylvia Plath and I’m thinking about relating them to the Kris Aquino-Joey Marquez scandal just because it’s a funny thing to do (we’re supposed to relate two American authors we’ve discussed in class and relate their works to Philippine society); take-home exam for CL 121, and it’s a formalist analysis of F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Diamond as Big as the Ritz and while it might be easy, it’s Russian and American formalism, so God knows how I can string them together.

But I am so glad that everything’s coming to an end and I can enjoy at least a couple of weeks of inactivity. But knowing me, I prolly have a few plans up my sleeve – and then there’s the Grey Table Oktoberfest and the CC Halloween Party to think of. But first, schoolwork!

Escaping: doing I-Manila work. Still need to arrange the October schedule.
Enjoying: Nescafe Frothe Hazelnut coffee on a cold evening.
Wanting to: hug Peloy.

SEPTEMBER 24, 2003 (WEDNESDAY)

(Gabby is bouncing up and down as she writes this, and is making funny sounds that is between cooing and meowing. As of the moment, if you ask money from her, she will give it wholeheartedly and even double the amount.)

A letter from the NCCA came in today. Apparently, I’m part of the NCCA UBOD New Authors’ Series. What does that mean? They’ll be publishing a collection of my poems – 18, to be exact – that I submitted last year on a whim.

*bounce, bounce, bounce*

Poor Peloy. Made him call me up just so I can gush. Hehe. Of course, not much can be pulled out of me as of the moment as I’m lapsing into incoherence again. This is effing amazing! This is insane! I want to call NCCA up now and ask if they actually made the right choice. I mean, these are poems I yanked out of thin air; I remember that the deadline was right smack dab in the beginning of the second semester and instead of preparing for class, I was working on these poems – most of which were first drafts and had no time to be workshopped. This is insane.

*bounce, bounce, bounce*

I want to alternate between crying and gushing and hugging people. ‘Course, boyfriend not here so will do with Petenick. Ohmygod, ohmygod, ohmygod. Waaaaaaah. So happy….

*bounce, bounce, bounce, smack!*

Ow. That hurt. Hit head on ceiling. Must stop bouncing.

And On To Other News…

Went to MCHS today for a meet-and-greet session with the girls from Dalumat. (FYI, it’s a new club that handles Philippine culture. Right now they’re doing a series on creative writing and they’re insane enough to actually invite me for 12 sessions to conduct a workshop. *evil laughter*) Nine students, to be exact: three seniors and six juniors, and Ate Flor, Kuya Ed’s fiancée, is the moderator.

Trying not to lapse into nostalgia is hard: high school had always been special for me, and for the Grey, and it was just rather sentimentalist of me to want to peer into the corners for stuff that would remind me of the insanity back then. Apparently, they’re constructing a new building for additional classrooms, and the old classrooms are all air-conditioned now and the girls are still bigger than me and prettier than me and…okay, high school angst.

But I must say that this endeavor seems rather interesting; the girls seem to be enthusiastic about writing, and serious enough to want to learn more, and while I was listening to them telling me about their expectations – from the generic stuff (“Sana fun yung gagawin natin.”) to the specific (“Sana mas maraming sumali sa club,” “Sana hindi na kami i-discriminate dahil lang nasa Filipino kami na club,” “Sana makasali kami ng contests pagkatapos ng training.”) – I was sort of reminded of myself. And I wanted to tell these girls that grades aren’t everything and I hope that they will continue writing not just as a hobby, but as a viable career option.

And I must say, I am looking forward to teaching, even if it’s just for a hour every Wednesday, and not even all that regularly – it’s just 12 meetings. But I’d like to help these girls in whatever little way I can, because I can see the enthusiasm and the willingness to learn, and I think that’s what makes great students. I don’t know how much I can take this project, but I’ll try and take it as far as I can.

I think I’ve found what I’m supposed to do for the rest of my life. And I can’t wait to start.

SEPTEMBER 21, 2003 (SUNDAY)

My fingers hurt already. I think I’ve been typing too much. In a burst of sheer OC-ness, I’ve managed to finish writing more than half of my Fil20 paper – yes, and it’s in Filipino. You don’t know just how hard it is to think in the language, and then rifle through the dictionary just to find the translation. I mean, I know I’m lousy with Filipino, but this is too much. It’s rather irritating to curb a train of thought just because you don’t know what the right word is.

Next time, I will just remember two things: an afternoon nap and coffee. Apparently, that’s all it takes for me to pull an all-nighter.

The Handcuff King and Other Stories

Went to Ateneo yesterday with Peloy and Dell to help Elbert and Comicol with their exhibit at the Social Science building. Apparently, it’s Humanities Week and they have a comicbook exhibit to deal with, as well as the Reading Corner and sellables. Rather interesting, and if I do have time I might just drop by and see how things are doing. Donated the GRAIL library as well as old comics to sell. Hopefully, everything turns out okay with that.

By lunchtime, we had finished cataloguing everything and managed to escape. Dell was already in full Sor Dellia mode and to my surprise and horror, Elbert could keep up with him! (Camille, if ever he turns gay, don’t blame me.) Separated at Bento Box, where Aster and the rest of the junior members of the CC were in full force for Aster’s very delayed birthday lunch. Introduced Peloy to everyone; methinks Pao was pleased kasi may kakampi na siya – and to my shock, Aster texted me later that afternoon (we hitched a ride with them kasi they were going to Galleria and we were headed to Megamall) and said that Pao thought Peloy has hot. (Paolo, you get away from my boy! He’s mine! Christ Almighty…)

Technically, we weren’t supposed to go out yesterday even though we it was our one month thing…whatever you call it…(I refuse to call it a “monthsary” because that might probably be the stupidest word ever to be invented.). But then, CinEuropa was there and it was free and so we decided to check it out. Ended up watching a Finnish film, The Handcuff King, which was surreal and funny and really rather odd. And no, it wasn’t some bondage flick – it was about the friendship of two boys and prejudice and Harry Houdini. Go figure. Wanted to watch Karnaval (France) but my ass was cold already and my legs were cramping up so we decided to go out already.

Wandered around Megamall and The Podium. He gave me a droopy-eyed doggy from Blue Magic which I named Petenick just because, and in turn he gets a ceramic teddy bear keychain – except that the teddy bear is all bound up in leather and chains. (These things really give the wrong ideas to some people.) Yes, we are both impulsive buyers, which is so wrong when we are left in the mall by ourselves. Had dinner at Lolo Mao’s at The Podium, and ended up wandering around the Megamall art galleries until everything closed down. Of course, he tried walking up the escalators while we were going down, but of course, mall security guards were behind us and he never got to more than three steps up. Ended up laughing my head off – as usual – because he does have the tendency to get into funny situations. (Yes, you do, my love, even if you don’t know it. You amuse me to no end.)

Thank Goodness I Didn’t Melt

Today was Ninang Betta’s fiftieth birthday and we had a catered dinner at their house. FYI, she’s Monica’s mom, and yep, Monica’s that tall cousin of mine with fluffy hair and glasses who bites. Had mass there – gasp! – and I didn’t melt, believe it or not. In fact, after how many years of Catholic education, I found that I still remember all the responses; it comes automatically, I guess. I think my cousins found it weird that I don’t really make the sign of the cross anymore; I find it more fitting to bow reverently and mutter some words in Elvish. (Yes, I do that. I say, “Hannon le, Eru,” [“Thank you, God”] everytime I pass by a church.)

Dinner was yummy: blue marlin and kare-kare and lechon, and for dessert, bibingka and puto bumbong. Monica and I had hazelnut coffee afterwards – her secret stash – and ended up watching Monsters, Inc. (which I didn’t finish) and some funny Japanese anime short films on the PC. And then my dad had a hissy fit and wanted to go home and crap and I don’t think I want to pursue that train of thought any further.

Anyway, must go back to paper now. Crap.

Just Finished Reading: Griffin and Sabine trilogy by Nick Bantock
Listening to: Jason Mraz b-sides
Desperately Need: some Decolgen because I think I’m coming down with a cold.

SEPTEMBER 21, 2003 (SUNDAY)

Para po kay gollum, na kinukulit ako dito. Ito pa lang ang pinapaikot ng ICW. sana makatulong.

Katha anthology BUKAS/BUKAS naghihintay ng inyong contributions na FUTURE o SCI FICTION until October 31. You can submit your stories at UP ICW, 2/F FC, UP Diliman.

Tapos, sa mga walang magawa, desperado na ako. Padala kayo ng fan fiction (story or poem) sa hobbitmistress@yahoo.com, parang awa nyo na, kelangan namin sa LitApp Light II. Deadline is Tuesday, 23 Sept. Please...

Yun lang po.

SEPTEMBER 18, 2003 (THURSDAY)

Putang ina. Hindi ko kailangang mag-loko ang mouse namin on top of everything else. Feeling ko pa magkaka-gastro attack ako sometime tonight, tapose meron pa ako period ngayon. Tangina. Tangina. Ayaw ko na. Nasaan ang aking kweba para hindi muna ako lalabas hanggang lumamig ang ulo ko.

Tanginang mouse. Lintek.

Ayaw ko na.

SEPTEMBER 18, 2003 (THURSDAY)

Sometimes I keep on forgetting that I am human.

I suppose it stems from that deep-seated need of mine to be accepted. I remember being labeled as “different” back in grade school and being ignored by my classmates just because I was small and thin and my nose was always stuck in a book. While the other girls would play Chinese jackstones and agawan-base during recess, I was seated on my Coleman, quietly reading Nancy Drew and wishing that I was part of their games.

And when I finally realized that I could actually contribute something to projects and schoolwork and suchlike, I couldn’t stop saying yes to classmates who would come up to me and ask to copy my homework or to explain a certain part of the story or to join their group for a class project. I couldn’t say no to teachers who wanted me to participate in school contests and performances. Sometimes I think my whole life is being dictated by other people and I just keep on going with the flow.

I don’t know. I think I was always afraid of saying no because if I refuse to do something, then my friends would go away and I’d go back to being alone. Reading was just a trick of escapism. And while I know I put up this strong, independent façade, the truth is this: I’m scared of being alone, of being left behind.

But now I think I’m backsliding. I’m handling too much and I’m starting to stay up later and later – and I don’t have the luxury of not having classes on certain days. And I miss my friends because I barely see them, and when I do get the chance to hang out with them, my mind runs down the list of things I have to do: that paper for Filipino, editing the second LitApp Light, dealing with the Comicol exhibit, solicitations for Writers Club projects, NCCA proposals, teaching at Miriam, homework, other major papers, my comic book script….

And I feel guilty, particularly with the Writers Club, because I know my duties and yet I can’t do it anymore and sometimes I just want to say, “Hang it all, I’m leaving,” and yet I can’t because I know that I can contribute something to this organization and a part of me is telling me to just walk away and another part of me (the mother hen part) is telling me that I started this and I ought to see it all the way through.

And I know this is all petty and being harsh on myself, but I guess I just need to remind myself more that it’s not my fault anymore if I can’t control the way certain things happen. And that people won’t get mad and fly off the handle if I say no to some things. And that I am human and I am allowed to make mistakes and that if people can’t accept the fact that everyone fucks up once in a while, then these are people not worth my time.

If only I can do it.

SEPTEMBER 17, 2003 (Wednesday)

The Sims

Just to remind me that there’s something cool in this world, I started playing the Sims again tonight, just for kicks. Apparently, our computer isn’t really equipped for those cool RPGs so we settle for things that won’t tax our hard drive and other computer bits inside the CPU. Hence, Gabby goes into God mode.

There’s actually something idiotically amazing about the game that makes me want to work afterwards. Well, maybe not work (I’m writing a blog entry, which technically doesn’t qualify as work) but getting there. And I have two new families: the Fellowhsip family (Legolas, Gandalf, Arwen, and Aragorn) and the Justified family (Christina, Britney, and Justin). Wala lang.

My Mother

Peloy met my mom today. As he’s liable to tell you, I was rather apprehensive about the whole thing but prolly because that’s my mother and while she’s the most amazing woman in the world, she does have a tendency to freak people out by the sheer power of personality.

Case in point: my boyfriend, who’s usually the most verbose person around and will actually be the one to engage in a conversation with a complete stranger, was actually dumbfounded during lunchtime. We were at Figaro at SM North Edsa (the only mall Nanay can navigate without losing any important body parts), and soon he wasn’t even batting an eyelash; he was already zoning out. Of course, after a while, he got used to the whole thing and (or so I’d like to think) was bantering with Nanay like old friends.

And she actually liked him! Amazing. I think that was after she was telling us that she forgot she had a Valentines date with my father once because she was at a strip joint with her other Fine Arts co-faculty. I dare not even expound.

One Month!

Surprise, surprise. This relationship will have lasted for a month come September 20.

But then, I wasn’t even expecting to fall in love anytime soon before he came along, so there. Zena and I were talking earlier and she was saying that if someone had even thought about it (Peloy and I being a couple) during summer, we would’ve laughed at the sheer impossibility of it all. Prolly because I’ve always been taught that smart is sexy, and yet I’m about to relinquish my teenhood and nobody was coming along and I was pretty much consigned to the fact that I was going to die a virgin and an old maid.

Well, apparently the universe had other ideas.

I don’t know. I guess it’s just odd that someone you’ve never thought about anything more than a friend suddenly becomes the most important person in your life at this point in time and you’d never have thought that you could be capable of this depth of feeling and passion and just sheer happiness and it’s all because and for this person.

And while I’ve always thought that love was heralded by roses and candles and mushy love songs, I find that I like it better when we’re just walking hand in hand and talking about random things and the weather is gray and green with the distant rumblings of rain.

fun quizzes!


The Lost Soul


What sign of the Black Zodiac are you?
brought to you by Quizilla

My inner child is sixteen years old!

Life's not fair! It's never been fair, but while
adults might just accept that, I know
something's gotta change. And it's gonna
change, just as soon as I become an adult and
get some power of my own.


How Old is Your Inner Child?
brought to you by Quizilla

now this result is extremely odd...


Tarzan!


What movie Do you Belong in?(many different outcomes!)
brought to you by Quizilla

now this one is for peloy...teehee


-Sensitive- You're Sensitive, and you'd like to
stay that way. Sorry,listened to a bit too much
Jewel there. You're sweet and very emotionally
charged. You definitely love the person you're
with, and always want to know how they're
feeling so you can make sure they're happy.


What Kind of Girlfriend Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

must...stop...quizzes...

SEPTEMBER 15, 2003 (MONDAY)

Living in Sin
Adrienne Rich

She had thought the studio would keep itself;
No dust upon the furniture of love,
Half heresy, to wish the taps less vocal,
The panes relieved of grime. A plate of pears,
A piano with a Persian shawl, a cat
Stalking the picturesque amusing mouse
Had been her vision when he pleaded, “Come.”
Not that at five each separate stair would writhe
Under the milkman’s tramp: that morning light
So coldly would delineate the scraps
Of last night’s cheese and blank sepulchral bottles;
That on the kitchen shelf among the saucers
A pair of beetle-eyes would fix her own –
Envoy from some black village in the mouldings….
Meanwhile, her night’s companion, with a yawn
Sounded a dozen notes on the keyboard,
Declared it out of tune, inspected whistling
A twelve hours’ beard, went out for cigarettes;
While she, contending with a woman’s demons,
Pulled back the sheets and made the bed and found
A fallen towel to dust the table-top,
And wondered how it was a man could wake
From night to day and take the day for granted.
By evening, she was back in love again,
Though not so wholly but throughout the night.
She woke sometimes to feel the daylight coming
Like a relentless milkman up the stairs.

1955

SEPTEMBER 14, 2003 (SUNDAY)

Rather woozy already. Just got back from Isengard today and had to go to dinner with Dans family at Glorietta in celebration of Grandparents’ Day. Had dinner at Super Bowl and realized that one can actually steal the kropek from the other table without the waiters blinking. And of course, the amazing jelly fish!

Quick explanation: the dessert was actually some sort of sweet bean gelatin shaped in a fish that looked so real my cousin Erica squealed when it was brought to the table because it was trembling slightly and we all thought it was a live fish. Yep, it was that good: colored and everything. And it tasted okay.

Oh yeah, my mother’s home for the week. We’re going out Wednesday – yey! Shopping! Tee-hee.

Finally. Some of the movies I ended up watching during the sleepover:
Hedwig and the Angry Inch (and yes, “The Origin of Love” was an amazing song.)
Bishonen (bits and pieces; mostly the naughty parts with Dell’s Daniel Wu)
Waking Life (but never managed to see Disc 2)
Clerks – The Animated Series (which makes me want to see the Kevin Smith original)
Battle Royale (which I shall never watch on a full stomach because the mindless violence gets more and more mindless, hehe)

Thank you to the gods for cultural capital. Now if you’ll excuse me…I’ll have to pass out already…tee hee…

SEPTEMBER 12, 2003 (FRIDAY)

My, my, it’s been a rather tiring day. My feet hurt. And I still have a paper to do tonight, before disappearing off to Isengard for the weekend.

Before starting, though: please buy the September 20 issue of the Philippine Free Press (which you can get at newsstands) because a short story of mine is getting published. Tee-hee.

Nostalgia

Went to Miriam Grade School earlier to get Bea’s report card. Was profoundly affected by a sudden surge of nostalgia. I suppose one can say life actually began in fifth grade for me, and it really brought back a number of memories stepping into the fifth grade building (they were sharing with three second grade classrooms) and just realizing how neat and clean and colorful the classrooms were – and mentally comparing it with UP. I’ve gone a long way.

Also visited Ninang Car, who’s teaching in fourth grade, and got the surprise of my life when I saw that Jen Naguit was also there! (Sabay-sabay palang nag-resign mula sa Adarna sila Jen, Allan, at Mabi. Poor Ani.) Thankfully, it was their breaktime, so chatted a bit. They were also handling a number of clubs and wanted to get me as a speaker (Ninang Car was handling the Culture Club, and Jen had a Creative Writing Club going on) – perhaps, if I can fix my schedule come second semester. Their club day is on Tuesday, and the high school is on Wednesday, so…

Also tried visiting Miss Lizza, since she’s now assistant principal, but as most admin people go, she was in a meeting so sayang. Siguro kung mapadaan ako ulit. Andami nang pinagbago ng grade school, and I notice it more right now because I haven’t been there for the longest time; unlike in high school, when I was there only this summer and not much has changed except that the students are taller and bigger and most of my favorite teachers are gone now.

I suppose I just noticed how fast time flies, and I’m now at a point I never thought I’d be at. It’s amazing and fulfilling and sad at the same time, because if I knew how much I’d sacrifice to get here, then I wouldn’t have wanted to hurry with my growing up.

Confrontational Politics

And then of course, there’s the tambayan issue between the Writers Club and Euro.

It all started out a couple of months ago, when we applied for recognition as a college-based org and got accepted and got our papers fixed. Wendell then promised us a tambayan – not much, as it’s part of the tambayan complex behind the FC, but still, it’s a definite “independence” issue thing from the ICW – and since there were two orgs that didn’t file fore renewal of recognition (Euro and Quill), we figured that it was up for the taking. But of course, being kind and gentle people, we waited for Euro to vacate the area. Why didn’t we want to get Quill’s? Because then we’d have to do a number of cleansing rituals that promises to be very complicated owing to the Dark Force cloud surrounding that area.

At any rate, I wasn’t around during the last club meeting and it turns out that they had confronted Euro and (kindly, I hope) asked them to get out. Prior to that, we had been waiting and waiting for them to file their renewal papers, but they never did. And then we hear that the CAL Student Council is being all wishy-washy because they really didn’t know what to do because apparently nagsumbong ang Euro at dun sa kanilang GA kagabi, sinabi nag may “peaceful coexistence” ang Euro at German Club – e ang German Club ang recognized org – pero wala naming sinabi ang Euro nung Wednesday.

So. Apparently may usapan na nung Wednesday (prior to the Thursday GA of the Council) na binigyan na ng Writers Club ang Euro ng hanggang Friday to vacate the premises. Ansaya talaga pag may kasamang faculty sa isang org. They can boss people around. At any rate, so Sandra and Cark talked (freaked out) a number of SC members until they finally talked to Noelle Seña, who was in charge of student affairs. And it all boiled down to, “Who is the legitimate organization, with the necessary paperwork, and requires the privileges?” Of course, the Writers Club. “What do you plan to do about it?” And that was when they marched up to the Euro tambayan and (nicely) told them to go away. I was in class when this happened, but I suppose it was a rather sad sight, watching them take down their banner and stuff. But it had to happen.

Now I’m just hoping none of the Euro members practice the dark arts.

Tuesday’s Rally

Took Peloy out to a birthday date last night at Gayuma. (It’s his 21st birthday today.) Rather odd to be in really romantic place and discussing UP politics, but then, that’s our relationship for you. But really, I know I’m prolly the most apathetic person in the world, but even I can say that what happened last Tuesday was so wrong.

There’s this Senate Bill, see, and apparently it’s going to revolutionize UP education. I think one of the more objectionable parts of it is (a) it’s going to allow the Board of Regents, which is the highest administrative body of the University, to dictate student fees, and (b) it’s going to cut down government subsidy from 80% to 20%. There’s more details about that, like the rearrangement of STFAP brackets and suchlike, but for me, that’s the most heinous.

The whole point of the state university is the fact that it’s being backed up by the government. If GMA can support each PMA cadet’s schooling, which amounts to 2.4 million pesos per year, then why can’t she support a UP student’s piddling 164,000+ tuition fee per year? Mas marami kami? And besides, it’s our constitutional right to get a decent freakin’ education in this country. And it’s not just UP – they’re closing down at least half of all state colleges and universities in the next few years and channeling all those funds into our international debts and our “war” in Mindanao. Um, right.

At any rate, the author of this particular bill is Kiko Pangilinan, who’s a UP student himself, and who happened to be Student Regent while he was an undergrad. (The Student Regent is the student body’s representative in the Board of Regents.) Anyway, he’s been holding dialogues with various student leaders around the campus and last week, they apparently reached an agreement: bring 5,000 students to the Senate on September 9, 2003 – when they’re going to talk about the bill – and he’ll junk it. So of course, all the militant groups started calling their constituents and marched up to the Senate…only to be met by a police force that’s probably four times larger than them, and most students and teachers get their asses hauled off to jail.

Thankfully, walang masampang kaso at pinakawalan din yung mga tao, pero ang asshole naman ni Pangilinan kung ganoon. In fact, ang asshole ng ating mga senador kasi wala silang ginawa nung nakita nilang binubugbog yung mga bata sa labas ng building. They just stood and watched, for God’s sake!

They just stood and watched.

This country’s going to the dogs. Tangina.

Lavender and Death

She knew there was something wrong the moment she stepped into the room. The roof sloped inwards, and the white paint was peeling off, much like carrot skins. For a moment, Julia thought she heard piano music, but it was quickly replaced by silence.

Her mother lay on the bed, a brittle, wasted thing.

Slowly, she saw her mother raise her arm, bony fingers crooking in a gesture of supplication. Julia stepped closer, careful not to step on the dead bodies of the cockroaches littered across the bare wooden floor like dry leaves. The soles of her boots left deep imprints in the dust.

A cast-iron chair sat empty beside the bed. Julia slipped into the seat and took her mother’s hand. Such skin: mere paper covering old flesh, older bones. She massaged the hand lightly – felt the flesh give way beneath her touch, felt the loose wetness of muscle and blood – and reached for the bottle of lotion that was on the bedside table and squirted a liberal amount on the old woman’s palm. Her mother made smacking sounds, pleased as the lotion and her daughter’s fingers traveled up and down her arm.

The scent of lavender and death rose from the lotion. Julia felt nauseous; she gripped her mother’s arm tightly to steady herself. Light slanted haphazardly across the room, from the broken windows; dust motes traveled from beams of light, ascending upwards in a spiral. Julia felt her mother writhe underneath her hands.

They were moving, moving upwards, towards the age-spotted skin sagging from her mother’s neck. She remembered a chicken once, in her Lolo Tanding’s farm in Cavite, frightened and squawking as it ran helter-skelter across the dirt yard. Julia was watching from the window, half-hidden behind the curtains. The menfolk chased after the hen with their knives; it took two men to hold the fowl against the smooth stone surface, and it was her grandfather who raised the knife that took away the head from the body. Blood colored the ground black, and the chicken lay twitching even after it had been killed. It took just one man, and his two hands. She could not have been more than ten.

The struggle stopped, abruptly. Julia realized that she could not feel her fingers anymore. One by one, she pried her fingers away from the limp neck. The skin was still warm.

She heard her aunt calling downstairs. Dinnertime. Julia stood up, feeling the crackle of dead cockroach bodies beneath her shoes. She looked down at her hands, lotion-stained and sticky. She needed to wash them. The skin was still warm.


Gabriela Lee
10 September 2003

SEPTEMBER 10, 2003 (WEDNESDAY)

Rainy Days

So I was walking down Katipunan Avenue, looking for an empty cab, when this humongous van suddenly comes roaring past and sprays rainwater everywhere. Guess who got drenched?

I mean, this is unfair. I think I speak of all commuters when I say that most car drivers have this general attitude problem when it comes to modes of transportation. After all, everyone just needs to get from one place to another; there’s really no need to prove that yes, you have a machine that brings you around, and I have my two legs and four pesos in my pocket. So what? That gives you absolutely no right to deliberately give me a mudwater bath. Crap.

Sana gasgasin ang pintura ng kotse mo ng mga taong grasa.

Poetic Angst

I’ve been thinking about how to reinvent my writing style, because frankly, I’m getting bored. I suppose it’s because for this semester, most of what I’ve been doing is either academic writing, or administrative writing, or editing, or research work. Hell, if I wanted to do this, I would’ve gotten a secretarial course instead.

It’s just irritating that I get a course called Creative Writing and then I end up doing critical papers and research proposals instead of what I thought I’d end up doing – duh, writing creatively. Instead of that being my focus, it ends up being relegated into the back burner because I don’t have time. And I’ve a number of ideas that I want to try, and I miss the whole rush of writing in white heat, and producing stuff I’m generally proud of. I mean, why the hell would I be proud if I managed to finish writing a paper on formalist criticism in Ranier Maria Rilke’s The Tale of the Hands of God?

And yet most of what I do – administrative-wise – is my own fault anyway. Nobody forced me to take on freelance writing jobs and research work. I’m doing this because I’d like to have a bit of extra money, like most kids my age, and I don’t want to exclusively rely on my parents for cash. I like the idea that I’m slowly working my way up the literary ladder, and that I’m doing my share of the groundwork for the future. I believe in the universe, but I’d like to help it along a bit.

Things I Keep Putting Off: a paper on Ranier Maria Rilke, and Federico Licsi Espino
Listening to: Garbage B-sides, thanks to Sor Dellia
(Hopefully) Reading: the rest of the young adult novels stacked up beside my bed. Three more to go!

SEPTEMBER 7, 2003 (SUNDAY)

Meeting the Family

This is the curse of a large family,
and I wanted to tell you that:

yes, my cousin got his girl pregnant
and my grandmother paints lace

and flowers for a living. That's my uncle,
the one with the camera around his neck

preserving each moment as if they were glass --
shattering easily, crystal shards

cutting through flesh and bone. Children
move in schools around our legs,

and I can see the wildness in your eyes,
as if everything had come into convergence

for a second: colliding galaxies of faces
and names you'll never remember,

this big bang of blood relations.
Yes, the tall one is my cousin also,

and this one's my mom's best friend,
the woman in red. Are you dizzy already?

Hold my hand, yes, and we'll swim away
to a quiet part of the room, where the water's

calm and we can finally see the stars,
distant and cold and still, glinting

pinpricks reflected on the glass surface.
Yes. Hold my hand.

The Ramblings of the Lazy

Supposed to be reading up on Filipino report tomorrow, but find myself too lazy. Do not know whether it is because it is Sunday or because of the heat (at maga-away na naman kami ni OJ dahil sa lamig-init/antok-gising issue na ito) or just because. Attempted to start writing a minor paper on the literariness of detective novels, but also cut off halfway because of laziness. Do not like this. Will prolly regret this later on.

Feel bad for not visiting Book Fair this year. Which is just as well, because I don’t have any more money; the lousy thing about having your allowance given monthly is the fact that you have to budget not just for daily or weekly expenses, but monthly. That’s four weeks – plus weekends. And God knows I’m not exactly the world’s greatest saver; as Peloy says, “There are a lot of yummy things in the mall.”

There goes my bank account.

Also watched Legally Blond 2 with Peloy and Bea yesterday, before getting us completely lost at the Shangri-la. Should learn how to differentiate Glorietta from Shang. Almost went neurotic if not for his presence – everyone knows I hate being late. Yes, even if the whole world wants follow Filipino time, I intend to be on time; professionalism, if not for anything else.

Anyway, managed to get to Glorietta only an itty-bitty late, and survived the whole Presenting the Boyfriend to the Family event. ‘Course, lots of eyebrows went way past the hairlines of my aunts and uncles (and not even everyone was there) and believe me when I say that I’ll be doing a lot of damage control later at Sunday dinner. This will be exciting. But I’d like to think he charmed everyone at the exhibit, and got two thumbs up from Bea and Tatay, who liked him immediately. Happy happy joy joy!

Oh yeah, and grab a copy of the Sunday Inquirer Magazine today because the Palanca winners have been announced already – one of them’s our very own Writers Club member, Jay Fernando, who won first place in the Future Fiction category in Filipino. (For a complete listing, go to Ian Casocot’s site – it’s under “Philippine Literature” over there at the Links part of the page.)

SEPTEMBER 4, 2003 (THURSDAY)

Singing Thais

Watched a Thai movie, Mon-Rak Transistor, with Peloy tonight at the UP Film Center. It was fun, particularly the song numbers; actually had a feeling was watching a Bollywood film sans the saris and flashy costumes. (Wait a minute, there were flashy costumes…particularly that guy with a handlebar moustache and a pink tutu. Scary. Might have nightmare for days.) Part of the whole Eiga Sai experience; the Japanese movies will be trickling in next week, though – all Takeshi Kitano films, as my org mate Ruzela excitedly told us. Planning to have marathon movie dates all next week, so expect me to go home late…as always. Thank goodness it’s all going to be free.

Still have cough. Subsiding, though. Must be weather. Cold, then hot, then cold. Goddamit, why can’t the world make up its mind?

Had dinner with Roja and Meia tonight at Chocolate Kiss while waiting for Peloy to arrive from class. As usual, ganged up on Meia, which was okay as am treating her out to pineapple streudel anyway. Laughed our way through mashed potatoes and gallons of iced tea (with watered down syrup, of course), and ended up being louder than the musical performers there. Sayang, violin group pa naman.

Meeting the (Grand) Parent

So. Am taking him out Saturday with family. Visiting Megamall’s Bookfair – last two days, people, last two days. Trot down to Ortigas if you haven’t been there yet, particularly on the weekend because that’s when they start lowering the prices big time. Thankfully, Louie’s in Baguio doing his CMLI work, so it’ll only be my dad and Bea. Already told Tatay to look decent. Do not want him to wear one of those loud ethnic polos he wears to work. Why, oh why can’t my family be normal?

And then, we’re off to Shangri-la for my grandmother’s exhibit opening. (I keep forgetting the details, but if you’re in the vicinity at around 6:30 in the evening, drop by one of the art galleries at the fourth floor. Usually, the cocktails are good.) Sort of worried about that one because I keep remembering Lola last summer when she took me aside and hugged me and said, “O, hija, huwag ka munang magkaka-boyfriend, ha? Alagaan mo muna ‘yang career mo. Andami mo pang pwedeng magawa.” (Syempre, si Gabby, taas kilay muna, pero nag-oo rin.) Well. I just hope she won’t have a heart attack. At least public place. She can’t make a scene. Right?

The worst thing she’ll do is disown me.

The Closet Romantic

He asked me tonight if I was counting, and I said no, because I think I still need the element of formality in cases like these. Not that I’m being picky or anything, but I just think that it’s still nice for the girl to be swept off her feet and be romantic and shit. (Yes, the “screaming for attention” part of life.) Of course, just joked about it and said we just get to pick any day of the month and say it’s out anniversary – somewhere near the end of August, I think – but still. Just so I get to be gushy and melty and stuff.

(Just a note: I am so glad when he brought up the subject of an anniversary, because that means he also wants this to last. Which, of course, pleases me to no end at all. He’s sweet, even if sometimes he doesn’t realize it. And we still have to talk about those hairless dogs.)

Yes, I’m a closet romantic. I want the whole nine yards: flowers and dancing and moonlit walks (wait, we have that already…we just walked from the Film Center to Philcoa) and, oh I don’t know. I just want to be surprised and be swept off my feet. It’s not a requirement, God knows student budgets are horrid, but just something sweet and simple and romantic, just so I’d melt and he gets to mop me up afterwards. Tee-hee.

Yes. This is a big hint already.

SEPTEMBER 3, 2003 (WEDNESDAY)

Been trying to catch up on schoolwork after the halcyon days of last week. Already told Carl of the UPWC that I won't be showing up for meetings and such because I have to get serious with schoolwork now. Trying to research on Adrienne Rich and Sylvia Plath right now on the Internet, but to no avail. All the websites are giving me are "recommended readings" and "selected bibliographies," goddamit. I need the freaking text!

(Okay, calm down, calm down, caaaaaaaalm...)

Have six papers and a script to cram in the next few weeks. Hurrah for the lazy people in the world!

On Pagiging Sawi

So. I said yes to Rita, even though I'm not particularly "sawi" these past few days, just because it seemed like an interesting thing to do on a cold Wednesday morning. Dragged myself to school, realized that I didn't have any cash, and trotted over to Vinzons Hall to avail of the amazing ATM. There were five of us in the discussion group, plus Rita and her groupmates, all there to talk about heartbreak and pain and to (in the usual UP fashion) make fun of it. And while it was interesting and all, I found myself rather out of place. I mean, I've been so angsty and bitter about the whole singleton experience, and now I can't channel those feelings anymore.

Case in point: on the question regarding, "Is it better to go through with the situation knowing there's the risk of getting hurt or should you just lie low?" I say, "Well, it's better to have control over the whole thing, and it's better to be pro-active and just go through with the risk, that way you don't have any regrets." And then another guy tells me, "Well, it's better said and done." And I wanted to tell him, well I have done it already and now everything's coming up in roses for me because there's the guy I love and he's with me now and I never regretted a single thing I've done so far. It's just irritating when people moan and groan about not having a partner when they're just sitting on their asses and not doing anything about it.

In other words, it's all about risk.

Lunch With Rita at the Porch

And while I wanted to comfort Rita about the whole Pat thing, which apparently she's not taking very well, a part of me is just detached about the whole thing. I suppose it's either because (a) there's just too many things happening in my life right now and I haven't had time to deal with the whole issue, or (b) Rita has to deal with this on her own because no matter what I say, I can't change her mind.

But it scares me to think that we're slowly pushing off the plastic covers of the world and discovering what it really is. There really is a difference between theory and action, and sometimes what's right isn't always what's good and vice versa. And I don't want to blame Pat for what she did because I know she's an intelligent person and I love her dearly and I'm sure she thought that this was the best solution to her problem. But now it just scares me to know that things like this actually exist in this world, and while I know I can handle all these realizations, it's just coming too fast and too soon and I don't know how much more I can take it.

(It's like giving a blow job, and suddenly realizing that you can't take much more into your mouth and the length and the liquid just fills up your throat and mouth and you just want to spit everything out and run to the bathroom and brush your teeth.)

It's like what Rita was saying earlier. Maybe it's just naivete. Maybe it's being protected from the world. No matter how much our parents mean well, sometimes being sheltered deprives you of the necessary weapons to deal with the reality outside the four walls of our homes. And while it's easier to deal with the good-bad dichotomy when you're sheltered, the grey area is always bigger than either of these two. So how do you deal with the ambiguous? One can't hide behind Mother's skirts forever. And eventually, the monster under the bed will come out. That's what growing up means. Dealing with the monster.

(I'm babbling, now aren't I?)

I need comfort. Everything's happening too fast. I need a hug. Please? :(

Huling Hirit

Hey everyone,

short list. new books, mostly poetry. rich collection
of hard-to- find stuff.

pick-up details:

1. Sunday, September 7, 2pm,
Fruit Magic, Katipunan, near Mcdonald's.

2. Monday, Sept 8, 2pm Dunkin Donuts, Katipunan.

please email me asap or text me thru 0917-5316663
the titles of the ones you like.

enjoy.

joel toledo

NEW BOOKS

1. "Fear of Dreaming: The Selected Poems" by Jim
Carroll, 273 pp. -- P400
2. "Idoru" by William Gibson (Penguin UK Ed) -- P350
3. "Rapture: Poems" by Susan Mitchell, 90 pp. -- P350
4. "Girl With Curious Hair (Stories)" by David Foster
Wallace -- P300
5. "These Are My Rivers: New and Selected Poems 1955-
1993" by Lawrence Ferlinghetti, 308 pp. -- P400
6. "Monolithos: Poems 1962 and 1982" by Jack Gilbert,
93 pp. HB P450
7. "Art and Lies" by Jeanette Winterson -- P350
8. "And For Example: Poems" by Ann Lauterbach, 101
pp. -- P350
9. "Falling Up--Poems and Drawings" HB by Shel
Silverstein -- P350
10. "To An Idea: A Book of Poems" by David Shapiro,
95 pp. -- P350
11. "Amrita" by Banana Yoshimoto -- P240
12. "Dream Work: Poems" by Mary Oliver, 90 pp. --P350
13. "Meeting with Time: Poems" by Carl Dennis,
73 pp. -- P350
14. "Einstein's Dreams" (First Edition) by Alan
Lightman -- P350
15. "The Transparent Man: Poems" by Anthony Hecht,
75 pp. -- P350
16. "The Vixen: Poems" by W.S. Merwin, 70 pp, HB --
P450
17. "A Scattering of Salts: Poems" by James Merrill,
96 pp. HB -- P400
18. "Tropical Depressions: Poems" by Elton Glasser,
97 pp. -- P350
19. "Scrambled Eggs a& Whisker: Poems 1991-1995" by
Hayden Carruth, 101 pp. -- P350
20. "Where Water Comes Together With Other Water:
Poems" by Raymond Carver, 130pp. --P370
21. "The Animal Family" by Randall Jarrell
(illustrated by Maurice Sendak) -- P280
22. ‘The Road to Wellville’ by TC Boyle, P250
23. ‘Push’ by Sapphire, P200
24. ‘Emerald City’ (stories) by Jennifer Egan, P250
25. ‘Crash the Ash – Some Joy for the Beleaguered
Smoker’ by Auberon Waugh (humor/gift), P250
26. ‘The Beauty Trip’ by Ken Siman (roots of the cult
of beauty/gift), P250
27 ‘Half a Dozen Thinking Caps’ (HB, children’s lit,
published 1900 with a dedication written 1901), P350
28. ‘Ahead of Its Time’ (Scottish short fiction from
Irvine Welsh, Janice Galloway, Alan Warner, etc.),
P250
29. "The Elements of Editing: A Modern Guide to
Editors and Journalists" by Arthur Plotnik -- P240
30. "The Way of the Wolf: Poems and Stories about the
Gospel" HB by MArtin Bell -- P240

SEPTEMBER 2, 2003 (TUESDAY)

F.Y.I.

For the UP students: CRS pre-enlistment starts September 4, 2003...or so the website says. Wala lang. Share ko lang.