Wednesday, May 26, 2004

MAY 26, 2004 (WEDNESDAY)

Apprehensions, et al.

So the BIG makeover is tomorrow already. Ginny has just threated to fix my eyebrows. I am now quivering in fear.

Honestly. I haven't really changed my physical appearance since third grade - when I had a page boy haircut along with my other cousin, Camille. What you see is what you get - I just grew into my skin, I guess. So when I was told that my hair was going to be cut and colored (gasp!), I couldn't help but feel a tingle of nervousness. Am I really that unwilling to change?

I don't know. We'll see what I'll look like afterwards. I just don't want it to be high maintenance because I'm a lazy arse most days and I don't really want to fuss around with my looks for a long time every day. But it would be a nice treat - if I had an older sister, Ginny would probably be it. ^_^ I mean, I know I don't even reach the level of "pretty" since most of the compliments I get from people are only on the "cute" level. We'll see how this turns out.

Plus, looks like Tatay is finally buying me that coveted pair of boots and a new pair of jeans, just in time for school! We'll see if we can slip in a nice blouse or two...^_^ BTW, registration for UP is on May 31, folks. Don't forget.

In other news, American Idol finals results tomorrow, 11 AM ABC 5. Fantasia or Diana? My bet goes to Fantasia, even though her first performance was crap (I hate that KC & Jojo song) and Diana's last performance was so-so. But when Fantasia sang "I Believe," you could see the hairs on my arms stand up. Amazing. I hope she wins.

Also found out the schedule of Queer Eye for the Straight Guy on ETC - it's on Mondays, 9 PM. I *heart* this glad it's on air here. (Yes, and I owe it all to Dell for introducing the Fab Five to me) Now am just waiting for Queer as Folk, the British version. I hope they don't edit it - lots of nice firm buttocks there...^_^

And in other news, finally did the last of my academic responsibilities this morning by taking two STS exams in a row. Didn't answer the last essay question of the final exam because I was sooooo sleepy (slept at 3 AM, woke up at 7 AM, had exam at 8 AM)and my brain did not absorb ANY of the readings last night. How the fuck was I supposed to know what economic strategies were, or limited protectionism?

So there. Bahala na. At least I'm done with summer classes.

Keeping It All Together

If I stayed, she wonders to herself as she stands at the MRT station at Ortigas, would we still be together? She asks a lot of questions these days – questions she knows have no answers. At least, not right now.

She stares at her feet, at the tiled floor, and the rust-colored train tracks. She contemplates, as she always does, how it would feel like to die underneath the train. She used to have a story in mind with that ending – she has a lot of endings right now, but she doesn’t have any idea how to begin.

This was what she was always frightened of: losing him. She wonders what he’s doing right now, and if he’s done all his papers already, and if he’s all right. She misses talking with him; she watched a movie earlier, alone, sitting on her hands to keep them warm. She gets caught up in the laughter of the children, and for a couple of hours, she forgets.

But she was always aware of the empty space beside her, and of her cold fingers. For some reason, a part of her wanted to cry at the end of the movie, when the hero and the heroine kissed each other. She missed his kisses.

The pain has already receded to a dull thud-thud-thud in her chest, like the sound of an incoming train. She has already killed that girl she once was: that bright, happy child that nestled securely in his arms. She wondered if God was playing a cruel trick on her – were there more couples than necessary in the mall? She has kept her gaze downwards as she walked; she couldn’t seem to meet their eyes. She wondered how many heartbroken girls were also in the mall – could they perhaps get together over coffee and exchange sob stories?

She wonders when she will forget. When she can walk the familiar paths they once took and just feel a sense of calm. She cannot enter certain places anymore – SM North Edsa, for example, or Rockwell Power Plant. This is the price of memory, of treasuring each moment in your mind: forgetting is always so difficult. She is still waiting to forget.

Earlier, over lunch, her friend tells her that loving someone else takes one person, but maintaining a relationship takes the work of both. She realizes that she still loves him. She wonders how he’s dealing with the pain; she has admitted to him already that she has a low threshold of pain. She turns these fragments of thoughts inside her mind, fragile strands of pictures and words that weave themselves into memories. Somehow, the train tracks look inviting.

The first train arrives. She cannot squeeze in. The story of my life, she thinks bitterly. Always getting left behind.

And so she stays, standing at the edge of the platform, clutching her bag at her side, head bent and choking back tears, perhaps beautiful in her sadness.

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