ateneo lives for another day.

i don't really care. really. except that people here are kinda agog over the game which has just finished a few moments ago.

however, in honor of all the atenistas i've ever loved (and will still love - hehe),
go ateneo!

and my cousin lives. he's now out of the ICU.

i'm writing while it's fresh.

i'm taking a break from the hospital vigil. he's there at the ICU, trying to breathe, looking on with his big round eyes, eyes that try not to cry. he looks as if he's waiting for you to do something. you don't do anything. except wait.

the doctor says there is no best case scenario and that we must prepare for the worst. his heart has only 22% activity that prevents oxygen from being distributed into the body. he's intubated and yet he finds it hard to breathe. remember izzie's boy in grey's anatomy? it's like that. his heart could just stop anytime.

but mine won't. he's my young cousin, a young kid, only 24. what was i doing when i was 24? i was graduating from law school. i feel sorry for King, for the life that he's lived. he has not been as lucky as i have been. his parents were different, didn't take care of them very well. he was a victim of his family.

i'm sorry King. i may have helped you too late.

if you go, please accept my heartfelt apologies for all the times i should have acted more like a proper 'ate'.

before i left the ICU, i told him i loved him, and he, despite the tube in his mouth and his difficulty, mouthed 'i love you' and cried.

a socio-psychology experiment reveals: eyes can't resist beautiful people.

i agree. this explains why my eyes dart across 4 courts on sunday mornings just to see the once-pretty-math-teacher-in-cycling-shorts who is now at least 14 years older, but still looking pretty. his wife plays with him mind you, and i have no interest whatsoever to break up their happy home (as if!) but my eyes, they kinda have a mind of their own. once pretty and still pretty boy is something to look at.

reminds me of this other person with car license plate ded 200, my best friend's crush (boy, did he crush her heart) and everytime she would see him she would gush and we would watch the latagaw because he played and though i didn't know squat about soccer then i just went and watched and cheered and enjoyed the view. sometime later i realized that my best friend's crush had become mine it was all so funny.

p.s. in 2004 while i was heading out of a party, i saw mr. ded 200's familiar face. i couldn't help but freeze! it was like junior year in college all over again. i called my bestfriend and told her he's here he's here and she goes "oh well, sorry for him i'm happily married". ganon???? some people outgrow their stupid crushes just like that???

p.p.s. why am i so emotional, mr. ded 200 was not even my crush to begin with.

i know. another title. the title changes every two days, i think.

i've been thinking of what title to use, something that's more real that what it appears to be. although i do write about me, i've realized that it's really not all about me.

unearthed: some poem from circa 1998. illustrates that sometimes, it can be all about somebody else.

Anticipation

do we or do we not?
are you or are you not?
two days until the big day
you still have not confirmed.

i could imagine Saturday morning
my eyes staring at the ceiling
arms flung to the sides
i could see your face in my head,
and all the things that happened Friday night
and all the things that didn't.

this made me stay home the whole sunday afternoon.

after winning, the girls from UP posed for the cameras with their "rock on" and tongue sticking out poses. and it made me realize they were different from all the other girls in the competition. the la salle women were dainty and had long hair, the ateneo girls were the same. the UP girls had short hair and an in-your-face attitude. i wasn't anything like that back in the day. while maybe i'm spunkier now. but boy i was such a dweeb.

the other day angrykid made this comment after i said that somebody we both know wanted to go out with me: "he's got good taste."

i was stunned. for a moment, i expected angrykid to say something like yuckkk or whatever derogatory hirit. but it didn't come. it was a compliment i didn't expect.

so before i knew it, i was telling angrykid "you're so sweet!" with matching gesture of feeling touched and then angrykid said (here goes): "yuckkkk, hindi bagay. you're acting pa sweet and di bagay sa yo."

exactamento. back in law school, a guy asked me while we were walking: "did you know that you're such a sweet person?" it was a weird question which i didn't know how to answer. i was class president and only wanted to know if he had gotten his xerox of the cases for the day. i said "no" and he said "yes" and asked me what was going on at home.

well, i just know my parents and uncles used to call me "sweet" when i was little. "sweet" was my nickname. now, am so the opposite of sweet i need to take a bath 3 times a day. oh no. what has become of me?

but do i want the old me back? a resounding NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.

+++++++++++++

still on the UAAP cheerdance, this is also what separates the UP women from the la salle women.










res ipsa loquitur.

truisms

"flight is evidence of guilt." - rene saguisag

i quote saguisag and angrykid says he hates this dictum. he says "yah, and the innocent is as brave as a lion." i said, blame the SC, they were the ones that made this flight-as-evidence-of-guilt dictum a truism.

but come to think of it, it's true. you never know when one is employing flight because he is guilty or is merely afraid to face his enemies, especially if he has a weak heart. applies to women too. when a woman flies off, it may be because she is guilty or that she is in denial.

anyway, sorry about that. this is my third post today. am on a roll. and i haven't even started to tell you about the possessed meat i encountered at pancake house. and the wonderful 99-peso T-bone steak i had at kalayaan avenue in qc.

playing hooky

i did it. yesterday, i went to the don antonio sports complex for my first badminton queueing experience.

there were 3 women (aside from me) and 3 men in attendance. the 3 women looked like mommies in their late forties, women who could afford not to go to work. pensionadas, insulares, peninsulares (okay i admit, i never understood what the last 2 words meant. gotta read my noli and el fili again). they had nice rackets which gleamed under the lights.

as for the 3 males, one looked like a daddy type who is learning his new sport, one a lanky kid who wears a tourney shirt who's probably not yet out of college, and the last one it appeared to me as a regular manong who plays basketball on the street. including myself, we were a group of 7 badminton addicts who played and sweated for more than 3 hours.

my first time was good, very very good. i got to compete against the women who knew how to smash. the daddy type and i paired against two of these ladies and we were badly beaten. i wanted to yell, hey daddy, please stop trying to win at the net. come here at the back and show them some power!

oh well, here was a guy who didn't seem to mind being crushed by two women. if he's cool, i'm cool.

i'll come back. during my leave, when i'm legitimately allowed to play on a monday. :-)

always ask

i treat larry's business card as one of the more prized contacts i would ever have. he's a counselor for economic affairs of the US embassy. i've met with him twice and our talks have ranged from the outright official to the downright personal. i know he's divorced and gets to spend time with his kids for 6 weeks a year. this year he brought the kids to sagada and baguio. i've not even gone to sagada. doubt if i ever will.

last friday, i decided to ask larry a favor. maybe he could help my officemate's driver get a US visa. maybe. maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask him. or maybe it would. for a moment, i doubted my decision -- should i really risk my goodwill with him over a favor that will not benefit me? but i know lucas' story too well. it's one of those i want to go to america kind of dreams, the kind that does not get answered favorably too often. but lucas' situation may be more unique than others. he has the backing of a whole family who can afford to support him while there.

i wrote larry. i started with an official chit-chat. then i proceeded to the main purpose of my e-mail. if this e-mail could somehow help lucas get a visa, i thought that maybe i should send it to you, larry. i apologize for however this may come out but i had to ask. i had to ask.

so larry said sorry i can't help you there. he doesn't know lucas. and he believes lucas has very little chance of being granted a visa. i replied thanks and that even though it was a long shot, i thought it wouldn't hurt to ask.

larry said "thanks. yeah. always ask. if i could..."

lesson learned: always ask. you must ask otherwise it can never be given to you.

am feeling lightheaded, almost happy. i just turned in my request for vacation leave. i will be gone one week in october, almost 2 weeks in november (for work and for leisure) and another 2 weeks in december. that's a total of 19 working days and weekends here and there and some official business in singapore and australia.

because i'm happy, i'm going out to have dinner and have a drink with an umbrella on it.

there was something different about today.

first, i woke up really really late. i had a 9 a.m. hearing yet i got out of bed at 8:05 a.m. ang kapal ng mukha, noh? but i could sense that something good was going to happen at the hearing anyway, so why rush? i knew luck was on my side.

and i was right. opposing counsel greeted me and asked for a postponement. apparently, he was sick. i looked at him, and searched for th02e sick look on his face and didn't find it. but i didn't care. sure, reset! sure, sure, sure.

and you know whatelse?

right now, i am confident. i believe that everything i touch will eventually turn to gold. loyola grand villas: here i come!

(p.s. you may ask, what the h is that photo doing in this post? my answer: nothing. it looks pretty.)