My Heart-healing Angels

As the song goes, “Wake me up when September ends…” 

That was how my month felt like when hell started as August ended.

I felt I was pulled in two opposite directions, dilemma being: must I give up or must I still chase pavements leading nowhere? Pain became a physical ache that even the strongest brandy could not pacify. There were no words to describe it. I thought it was the end of me.

Until they changed my mind…

My Heart-healing Angels

by CristeenQuezon photography

The kids in this photo, whom I adorably call “my popcorns”, are Izac and Anika. They are the primary cause should one day I’d commit the crime of kidnapping.

Effie and Bingbing are my fellow Inmaculadistas. We’ve known each other since grade school. One day, I shall write about them.

Big thanks to Atchie, Effie’s elder sister for this  fun photoshoot! It definitely relived childhood happiness…a silver lining of my gloomy September.

Rebecca Meets Facebook

My mom went grocery shopping a few days ago and saw her college roommate who has been based in Hong Kong for 30 years. After some catch-up merienda, my mom went home, found me in front of my PC and asked me to make her a Facebook account.

REBECCA: Dab, nakita ko si Tita Brenda sa grocery. Nagkita daw sila ni Ninang Auring mo sa Hong Kong. Kinamusta ako at sinabi mag Facebook ako. Gawa mo nga ako at ilagay mo yung picture ko sa passport ko dati.

The loud and liberated, all-out Facebooker that I am officially switched to panic mode. Hala!!!
Change settings FAST. I taught her the basics. How to send messages, how to add contacts, upload and tag pictures and write messages on walls.

Today, I was online and was just browsing page to page, profile to profile and then I decided to make myself a cup of coffee, smoked a stick outside and took a shower. For how many minutes, my mom took over the PC and logged in Facebook. When I checked my profile, this is what I saw:

Rebecca M. Bravo Dab mag-aral ka nang mabuti. Magsasampung milyon na ang gastos ko sayo. Mahal pa ang bayad mag take ng bar kaya dapat one take lang, ok? nasaan pala ang susi ng gate? hindi ka na naman umuwi lintek ka!

Darn Tita Brenda! Darn Ninang Auring! Darn Facebook!

The Question She Wished She’d Never Asked

"When God showered grammar skills, she was fuckin’ wearing a goddamn sun hat!"

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
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*whew*

Details and photos SOON.

On the 3rd Day of Tima’s Bwahahaha

Last Monday, I was feeling so low and shitty and while online, my dear friend since time immemorial Allana who lives in New Jersey, buzzed at me via Yahoo Messenger and I started recounting the details of my foul mood. The sweetheart and loony bin that she naturally is, she was determined to brighten my day by posting photographs which were taken since 1985 at Facebook.

Three days and over a hundred comments later, I still can’t stop the hysterics. Each time I open my Facebook account, I start guffawing whatever laughter imaginable. EVERY SINGLE TIME.

Thanks ‘dai. You sure have a way of really making the world seem filled with chocolates, flowers and puppies. Alabyu!

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!

From Crazy to Sassy to Missing Law School

How did I manage that in less than 48 hours? 

I was out at an acoustic bar last night with a couple of friends and Magnus’ rockstar complex unleashed its divine self and upstaged the band. And so he sang a set of songs, played the guitar and made the audience swoon to kingdom come, he looked so heavenly. Out of nowhere he began calling for The Crazy Girl on stage. “Hey Crazy Girl, I’d get you a bucket (of Red Horse) if you sing that song you sing.” It didn’t occur to me that I was The Crazy Girl he was trying to embarrass and so I kept chitchatting with my friends and his cousins. Then I felt a tug from behind and the sweaty bar owner told me to get my ass on stage for my five-minute fame. And so the alcoholic me sang my own rendition of Dido’s White Flag like a pro. Uh-huh! You heard that right! Like a pro, for a bucket of Red Horse! Thank you for all those years at JP’s karaoke bar I was able to sharpen my singing prowess. *Whew* Now, I’m a rockstar too! Hahaha!!!

Later on, a 50-something-year-old American began singing “Pumapatak na naman ang ulan sa bubong ng bahay…” It was so amusing that he memorized the entire song and everyone in the bar attentively listened to every song he sang after that. Then he did a little trivia game. He’d play a song for people to guess what movie the song was played and he’d hand out a bottle of Red Horse for free. And like a regular movie freak and alcoholic, I paid my undivided attention and won a whole bucket of beer for guessing Sound of Music, The Godfather, City of Angels, Pretty Woman, Michael and Legends of the Fall. Obviously, drinking them was the whole point of the contest which paved an easy way for intoxication mode for everyone in our table. I was told that I drink like a camel, talk a hundred words per minute surprisingly with more sense, smoke like a chimney, dance with choreography and can still get out of a parallel parking space when the driver can’t. Hence, I stopped being The Crazy Girl. The Sassy Girl was brought to life as of last night.

As soon as I awoke this morning, I met up with the same group of friends at the beach for a tail gate party. While bathing under the Mactan sun with a borrowed iPod, I saw a girl from the other cottage reading Reyes’ Book II of the Revised Penal Code. I felt a pang in my chest and my disposition changed. Midterms week ended today for my classmates and I remember spending my week bombarding them with messages like, “Hoy! Mag-aral kayo. Midterms na! Good luck!” and “Property exam ‘nyo mamaya no? Wag na kayong mag-aral dahil ako lang at si Pamaran ang papasa jan! HAHAHAHA!!!”

I miss my books. I left them in my condo since I had a lot of stuff to bring and if I bring the box that contained them, my mom will hit me so bad for the excess baggage she needed to pay for. I miss reading everyday. I miss the AUSL Library, the Student Council Office, the hallways, the bridge and smoking after 10 pages. I miss the anxiety attacks before class, the blue toes and the sweaty palms during recitation. I even miss sounding like a moron during recitation and laughing about it after class. I miss the high of getting good grades and the tantrums I throw during information overload. I miss stretching one day to 25 hours and a week to 8 days just to study like a maniac. I miss overstaying at Starbucks, getting drunk at the end of the weeklong ordeal and the detox moments with Niyaku at Bubba Gump. I miss the life of a law student wherein being ‘ngarag’ is fabulous, insomnia is a trend and coffee is food supplement. I miss having food delivered in school due to lack of time to dine out. I even miss the school canteen even if they serve everything that tastes like airline food. Mostly, I miss everyone in Arellano. Even those I don’t really like, I miss them too.

The bottom line: Underneath the glory of the Mactan sun, reggae music, great food and even greater company, I pine for my old life. I pine for the boring version of me. I pine for yesterday. Suddenly, I decided to leave, abandon my friends and the beach, go home and sulk because the girl from the other cottage was too preoccupied with her book that, for a split second, I was willing to trade places with her. It was just not possible.

Airport Faux Pas

I was waiting for my 630pm Cebu-bound flight at Tinder Box, the smoking lounge of the Centennial Airport, when a jaw-droppingly bald hottie of a pilot asked for a light. I handed him my lighter and we got into talking when I offered him the vacant seat next to me. His name is Ken and, yes, I was told when I was little not to talk to strangers. I’m simply stubborn. And I’d be a fool if I didn’t take this opportunity, right?

He’s a thirty-five-year-old pilot, has red kissable lips, gorgeous smile, enthralling eyes. The jackpot part is, he smells oh-so-good and he’s got a sexy accent. I think I was partly drooling while talking to him about the beach, his travels, Egypt, New York and the Cebu club scene. I was in a state of awe. HE IS BEAUTIFUL.

Then came a gorgeous flight attendant who sat next to him. His name is Josh. I smiled while still drooling in the inside. Wow! I felt like a kid with two different lollipops. Which one must I lick first?! Quickly, my fantasies disappeared.

Ken: “By the way, G, this is Josh. My partner.”

I was dumb-founded and I think it showed because now they both smiled. I let out a sigh of devastation and said, “Oh…I see…” I was looking for words just so I wouldn’t seem so desperate. “Oh my God! I see…come to think of it! I was ready to sleep with you! Damn!”

They both laughed, leaving me no choice but to laugh as well.

This little incident made me realize a little fact: Most beautiful men are taken by equally beautiful men.