She was one of the first girls I spoke to in high school. I tasted my first beer with her. Smoked my first cigarette with her. I even saw her first kiss and she was with me on my first date. We were close friends, but she was posh I was poor. It never mattered and I never felt discriminated against by her family.

She went to UPD, I went to UPLB.

Time made its mark and our paths never crossed except once during our four years in University. She said she was not used to wearing the same attire in campus within the same month, very Hollywood huh. I said I attendended classes wearing tsinelas and pambahay. I guess I grew up and realised if I’m late after a hardnight of cramming, I don’t care about my appearance, I will turn up to class no matter what. Or I grew up and turned into a slob. But it was clear our priorities were now different.

In high school, we were both very shallow. We wanted to be campus figures. We wanted to have fun. Who am I kidding our high school is not Ivy League, we didn’t sweat over the lectures. It was your typical algebra mixed with boys on the side. As long as we’re acing the oral recitations and periodical exams, we’re good to go.

In college I didn’t have that luxury. My sisters were paying my tuition and I had to graduate on time or that’s it. I wasn’t shooting for a merit, I was praying for my diploma. While she, she was aiming to be well-known or at least well-liked in the big pond that is Diliman.

Fast-forward and a few years of toil, we had a reunion. I was in the province and of course, I tried to hook up with the old barkada I have not seen in years. She was there, the same energetic, powerhouse that she was. Bumabangka pa din as always. To be honest, I do that too, bangka sabi nila. But somehow I couldn’t relate to her anymore.

She claimed stature that no one can neither deny nor confirm. She screamed money & ability, but complained of the 200Php fee. She dropped a few names from my internship in a TV network and from my former job, asking if I knew the people. I wondered if she was validating my claim to those or whether she was hinting at knowing people.

With some, even after years of silence there’s warmth in seeing them again. There wasn’t even a spark. I didn’t know the woman who stood amongst us.

The sad thing was a few years before the reunion I was telling my boyfriend (now hubby) I wanted to get in touch with this person. I felt I was ready to re-connect with old friends but I was clutching at straws.

I’ve always come across magazine articles about singletons being left behind as all their friends succumbed to the ball-and-chain married life. They voice varying opinions about not wanting kids, or envying stable relationships, or wanting to “settle” but not liking the idea of a marriage certificate, etc etc.

How about happily married folks who often look back and sigh?

Well, sometimes I do.

I enjoyed my single life and independence so much, that now and again I find myself, thinking what it would have been like to stay single all these years.

A singleton friend from America stayed with us recently. I was really looking forward to it as much as she did. It was her 3rd time over & she was going to hook up with some “bloke” she met last time she was here. We booked her post-bday bash and we planned a night-out. Hubby volunteered to stay with Kelvin (long story).

The eve of my FIRST proper nightout in London, I realised a number of things:

One, I don’t have anything to wear. All my clothes were office-wear and those that aren’t, aren’t “glam” enough. Que horror. I can’t turn up at a nightclub in my jumper!

Two, I have self-imposed curfew. I tried my best, but my involuntary reflex was to keep checking my watch and my phone. Every hour I “touched base” with hubby to confirm where we were.

Three, when the suggestion came up to move to the party to a house somewhere along the Docklands, I can’t join them. I found myself actually telling my friend “it’s not my scene” anymore. I wouldn’t belong in a singleton’s party without my hubby. The atmosphere will not be the same for me.

Coming home I told hubby that I’d love to accompany my friend on her Europe trips. But I know she will not enjoy it as much as I would. I’d have to bring Kelvin with me or the entire family, and being single once I know that’s not “her scene” either.

When you’re single and adventurous you don’t want to be lumbered with a child. It’s going to cramp your style if you’re on the prowl. And how is she supposed to see the night-life in area if we turn around and tell her she’d have to go on her own or that we can go but only for 2-hours?

I am finally enjoying my married-with-a-kid life in London. I have managed to attend drink-do with my current officemates. I thought it’s not far-fetched to think I can start going on night-outs. The logistics are hazy but I thought I could invite a few kindred spirit, perhaps hubby and I can book a trusted nanny…

It really just hit me how different my life is now.

I recently called a high school friend in Pinas. As often the case with oldies like us, we got to talking about our past escapades. At one point she mentioned common friends who got married early (due to pregnancy). Some she said were demure in high school. “Tsk, tsk“, she said “you can never tell” but what followed nearly had me fall off my chair.

She said “Di ba ikaw nga ang panay tsikinini nung high school?“

OMG! Did I really? I might have accidentally blocked that out of my memory. It’s been so long since I last heard the word tsikinini (kissmark) that there was a synaptic delay before I reacted. When I did I couldn’t contain my mirth and my embarrassment. I was probably a little red on the face.

I can honestly say though I was not alone in sporting those red spots of “love”. Yes, my then bf would have some, too (more…

Toe was reminiscing about her childhood reads before and how she’d wish for blonde hair and blue eyes (like that UP student who won in the UK). My past was a bit different because the only reading materials I had access to growing up were comics. You know, Pinoy Klassiks, Aliwan, Liwayway, at marami pang iba na nakalimutan ko na pangalan.

My Lola in Manila used to rent comics in her sari-sari store and she’d archive the old issues in rice sacks and bring them to Nueva Ecija - for me! Nanay hated it because I won’t stop until I have read each and every issue. I’d ditch my morning baths, ignore my Saturday cartoons, zip thru my assignments & just slump on the floor next to my sacks (there’ll be 2-3 sack-full!).

Before our black-and-white television, weeknight entertainment was reserved for our transistor radio. You know the type that takes 4-6 big batteries and the back cover is made of cardboard? (more…

You’re probably familiar with this tag by now. Toe & Pining tagged me & I really liked Toe’s spin on her post ha. Unique. Then I came across Badoodle’s version & suddenly I know what I will do to make this more interesting. Let’s go back in time before marriage & commitments & before the post-baby weight!

1. I grew up in the slums of Cabanatuan City.
Tatay built our house on a tiny space of Earth behind the NIA’s towering wall. I have been meaning to post about this before but I wanted to take a picture of the house, perhaps next year? I have fond memories of growing up in an ever extending house, sandwiched between the wall and a stagnant swamp. I remember the house sways during typhoons and we always had the feeling the roof will fly-away soon. Our silong (basement?) was my playground where my imagination ran wild. I cannot climb the tree but our aratiles was always within reach by our homemade sungkit. I love that place.

2. Early maths-training was like a military bootcamp
Because I didn’t like the Barangay day care (yucky lugaw & I can’t stand the afternoon sessions, so I refused to go), my sisters took it in turns to teach me English and Maths before I started Grade 1. The eldest did the Maths & I remember being so terrified I’d cling to my half-brother whenever he’s around. She taught me the basics really quickly, we progressed to 3-digit additions & subtractions, then division with decimal points! Remember I was barely 7 y/o!!! Que horror.

The scariest times would be when Kuya would tell my sister off for being too hard on me, they’d have a shouting match. There were funny moments though. Kuya would take it in turns with my older sister, walking past my Ate holding up placards with the answers or will be signalling with their fingers whenever I’m stuck in dipa position (i.e. arms stretched) for being unable to answer.

In Grade 3, I came home very pleased & told my sister that FINALLY I get to use what she taught me 4 years previous. It was the only time decimal points were taught in my school! Of course, I aced it. Sulit.

3. First kiss at 8 years old
Yup. I got my first kiss when I was in Grade 2. But it was “taken” by force huh! After Grade 1, I was shocked at my classmate’s behaviour the following year. They were putting mirrors on their shoes & peeping up our skirts (too bad for them I wear shorts ha!). They were forming “gangs” (from the Bagets film) to chase girls when the teachers aren’t around. That means recess & uwian (afterschool) are fraught with “dangers”. One of the gang leaders took a shine on me & kept shoving candies & flowers (santan & bougainvillea) at me. I would go to great lengths to avoid him, even going to the back roads to avoid running into his gang. Unfortunately, they caught me one time & scared the shit out of me! There were 2 boys hugging me (I remember one of them was John iknowyoursurname) & my “suitor” swooped down for the kill.

It was only a peck on the lips. But I felt so violated I kicked & screamed. They let me go & I ran to the suitor’s mother, who also happens to be our homeroom adviser. You know what she said? That I should stop crying because I was being a “maarteng bata” (flirty child?). I didn’t tell anyone at home.

4. I know sign language
My elementary school used to teach deaf-mute kids and teenagers. I’d hang out in their building because their library is well-stocked and airy. I learnt to sign the ABC and I remember able being to “talk” to them, even developing some friendships. Unfortunately, I can only do the ABC’s now. I don’t know the phrases anymore.

5. I used to be a clean freak
I think I was born with a hankie in hand because I don’t remember ever going out without one. I use it because I liked covering my nose when someone smells! When I was little, I’d ask the dentist to change the glass so I’m sure the previous patient didn’t use it. Up until high school, I’d pour water on the toilet seat (even at home) & wipe it before I use the loo. My worst memory was in grade school, during a “Bulaklakan“ dance practise I refused to hold hands with my partner because I saw him playing with his saliva. I made him hold a stick on one end while I hold the other. I only let him hold my hand at the real show but I watched him wash his hands first. Kung nasan ka man at mabasa mo ito, naku sorry po.

6. I was a CAT Corps Commander
Perhaps because my college ex- only attained the rank of Major, he’d insist I became a Colonel because the men in my class were weak. Whatever. Joining the CAT was one of the best decisions I made in my life. I got to know more of the student body (my class had 1100 students alone!) and developed lasting friendships.

I guess I was scary because one time I made a joke, none of the platoon I was speaking to laughed. When I demanded to know why, a cadet answered “Ma’am kasi kahit naka-smile kayo mukha pa din kayong Tiger Look“… Waah.

In the CAT, I also learnt I cannot go into politics. Power corrupts people! I admit I did “piso mula sa kanan” (literally: a peso from the right), or asking plebes to spy on people. Friends would even treat me to lunch or snack in exchange for bio-data of their crush. hehe Sarap.

7. I love war games, I’m an airsoft fanatic
My friends are mostly men, growing up and into adulthood. I don’t know why, it just happened okay?

I only ever played in Pinas with my former officemates. We started out using our old CAT uniforms & we were just borrowing Gas-powered BB-guns. Our first game was in Tarlac against a group of students(!) & we were nearly cowed. These college kids were armed with battery-powered guns and they were properly kitted. They even had face paints & camouflage & sniper blankets. They were damn organised, with lookouts & hand signals to boot! When we had lunch, they were eating out of canteens. Mind you these are rich kids, the “jungle” (which was beautifully set-up) we played in was owned by one of them in a neighbourhood where almost all the cars were Benz’es.

We were chuckling nervously about how the kids were going to cream us. Imagine I was wearing white trainers & my hair was long, an easy target. When the game started, we could hardly see the Tarlac boys. We were running for cover when someone shouted “foxhole!!”

My officemate, GM (Grand Manyak), jumped in thinking it’d be 2-3 feet, but it turned out to be 5-feet high! Thankfully I slid down (used to this in CAT). GM turned around to me at one point, asking why he can barely see. When I looked at his mask, he was wearing his Oakley sunglasses underneath! D’oh! It was too late to take them off, once in the field, you have to protect your eyes or risk being blinded. Unfortunately for him he was killed when I motioned for him to go in a direction I thought was “clear” while I try to cover him, he ran straight to the other team’s men hehe

My heart was thumping all the way through the game. I took down 3 men before I got hit on the forehead. It was super fun! Rolling, crawling & getting scared-shitless.

That’s us on our first game. We founded the OmegaZone Airsoft Community in the Philippines. Well I should say, I was part of the team who organised the orientation & recruitment process before the Community was formalised. I didn’t even get to pay the first membership fee (went to London). Nor get my uniform. Very sad indeed. It’s grown now that they even conduct Family Days & they also boast of several game sites both urban & jungle. They were even featured in the X-Games (?) show.

And yes, they have nasty battery-powered guns by now.

8. I was a party animal
Di pa ba obvious yun? (Isn’t it obvious, yet?)

I came out of Uni looking to enjoy myself and with a kindred spirit by the name of Balot, we partied at any time of the week. We’d go clubbing on Sundays, say, and we’d make it to work the next day — all fresh. That’s youth for you, eh? I do that now & I’d be useless the next day.

My nocturnal habits were so notorious, one project manager nearly turned me down for a post in Melbourne. But I got the push anyway as my work ethic’s been well-tested 3-months after joining the company (worked on my undergraduate theses while working full-time). It was one of the best times of my life.

Boozing was great. I’d pass out every now & then, do silly things like try to stub my ciggies in my drink or not know how I got dressed. My project manager, also a great boozer, and our company director, who’s also known to dance when drunk, would instigate drinking games every chance they get.

My first Melbourne teammates

I’m charged with picking out what to try out every Friday night. We’d stop by alcohol drive-thru’s (as in liquor shops that are like McDo’s drive-thru!) & I’d try every item I’ve been meaning to taste! Jack, Black Label, Red Label, Cognac, Baileys, Tequila with the worm, gins, vodkas,.. honestly the list is endless. I didn’t drink that much beer, because I was too conscious of the “beer belly”.

I frequented Malate, bar hopping til morning. One time we ended up in a gay bar where all the call boys were gorgeous college boys. My male friends were keen to stay in one corner of the room, always jumping when someone touched their shoulders. The girls were more carefree. And I was asked to dance by a sweet-smelling hot “boy” who insists on his shock that it was a gay bar. I didn’t even ask him… hmm?

Well. That’s it. My 8 random facts. Hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.

And now what’s next? I’m supposed to tag 8 people so: Chats, Christianne, Tito Rolly, BatJay (mabasa mo kaya ito?), Geri, Febeth, Raquel, and BugsyBee!

UPDATE 14 Sept PM:
OMG! Sorry Pining for forgetting you also tagged me for this post!

I found this quote by Germaine Greer (from this site.) that really sums up the Tube experience.

“Even crushed against his brother in the Tube the average Englishman pretends desperately that he is alone.“

Is it the same thing in New York? Because I’m pretty sure in Manila the LRT experience is very sociable. For one you’re always aware and conscious of the people around you for fear of pickpockets. And for me as a college student there was even the odd flirtatious socialization, too.

When we were just dating, I complained a lot to hubby that he’s always staring at the girl (sometimes girls) across us from the jeepney, from the street, from the restaurant, etc. etc. It used to bother me so much.

One time I told him off again (always away from the perpetrators) & said I feel disrespected when he looks at other women in my company. What he said shut me up, at least for a while. He said he never tells me what I can & cannot do and he never complained when I ogle men when he’s with me. I probably looked shocked (to hear the truth & that he notices pala) because he said it was okay, that he understands as I don’t engage in flirting anyway. It was akin to window shopping because you see something you “appreciate”. So like the mature twenty-something that I were in those days, I said fine as long as we understand each other he is not to look at other women when I’m around!

These days when we a sexy woman passes I check my hubby now & again. Sometimes I ask him a trick question like “she’s got nice shoes, ‘no?” He’s learnt so his answer will invariably be similar to “whose shoes?“

Do your men ogle? Do you ogle? Are you bothered?

I’m nearly 31 & sometimes I hate to admit it, but I look at men in their 20’s and I can only shake my head. So many men, but I have let the time pass – naughty!

I have been thinking about the best way of putting this sob story out here. I view it as very personal, but at the same time it’s interesting. Reading Annamanila’s entries prompted me to post it sooner while I still have enough time.

I didn’t realise that betrayed women go thru similar cycles: denial, rage, sadness & acceptance. I know other life-changing events evoke the same. I remember watching a Simpsons episode where Bart showed all 4 in one minute when Homer & Marge were about to split.

In Annamanila’s entries on some women’s unfortunate experiences with their husbands, the first thing that stood out to me was how the “first” wives react towards their perceived enemy. They are condescending. They feel superior. They resort to finding fault in the adulteress.

When I was in a similar situation long ago, I, too, looked down on the girl. Although I was only 2 or 3 years older, but because she was like a younger sister to me, I saw her as a child. I wanted to forgive her even in the early days of my “discovery” but I gave way to rage. It gave me some release, I guess. I wanted to destroy her, I didn’t but my whole being wanted to slam her face in the dirt & my hands were yearning for her blood. Ex got the same treatment. I would have loved to swing a baseball bat to his face until it crumbled, either his face or the bat or both.

Anyhow, as you can see I didn’t end up in jail. Looking back I have underestimated her. Had I played the meek, powerless nymphet, I would have “won”. You know how it is, they say men like soft, helpless maidens but cannot live without strong women. And some women often play coy & do act like some princess in the tower to catch their prey. However, knowing what I know now, wouldn’t want to win if the prize was my ex and I’m not saying that because I’m still bitter.

Ex was a nice guy though he doesn’t have anything in the looks department. More importantly, I was too young to get involved in a serious relationship (we started dating when I was 17 & we’re expected to get married when I graduate). I have yet to see what the world has to offer me & what I can offer the world in return. When my eyes were veiled with Cupid’s poison, I didn’t see how stifling my so-called love was. I didn’t see that I could have had a better deal with someone who will support me 100% & potentially someone who will not be threatened by my sexuality or my capabilities. Friends saw it, some of whom are even his cousins, but I was a fool. Thinking back I don’t know why I didn’t get out sooner when he would often humiliate me in company of friends & non-friends! I was stupid & naive. Thinking about it now makes me cringe. I even missed a chance with this really hot Robin-Padilla-lookalike in Uni!

I guess I’m luckier than most of Annamanila’s correspondents. The affair happened when I was free as a bird and I was just about to explore my reality. At first I thought the pain would never end, but it did. Initially, the nightmares recur every night. I was self-destructive, bulimic, and probably crazed. But when I told myself that it’s really over, I cannot take him back, I don’t want anything to do with him: I began to rediscover myself. Of course, I’ve had the “beautification-phase”, too. It wasn’t necessarily a “look-at-me-now” moment though, rather it me taking care of myself after years of self-imposed neglect.

Turning my back on him was a signal for them to officially come out. For me, it was waking up from a very deep slumber & discovering how much I am really worth.

Some people ask (it’s been so long, come on people!) if I’m friends with ex and the girl. What? Why? Sure I will never forget them, but there’s no room in my life for such excess baggage.

Considering that I broke up with an ex for cheating on me (with a “friend” and the recent incident that my best mate reported, should I be alarmed?

Apparently ex was so excited to see my buddy that he caused a ruckus just to catch her attention & when he got it, he asked for her number. Could it be he’s zooming in on her now?

Ever since I started getting comfortable about working & earning my own money, I started to trace my old friends back in primary and in secondary school. Maybe for stupid reasons, I just drifted away from most of them.

My attempts to get in touch with my best girlfriend in elementary school was disastrous. I’ve nothing to say to her because she wasn’t forthcoming either. We were both stumped. Thankfully it was over the phone so we just hanged up & perhaps each of us sighing with relief in the end.

Then in Y2K, I joined a reunion of our high school mates. It was strange. Nevertheless I resolved to be in touch again. So I invited them to my son’s baptismal, his first birthday & this year, I met up with them for dinner & another day to hang out at a friend’s house. Dinner was okay. We were yapping and really catching up on our “adult lives”. The second time was a bit of an eye-opener. There was a new face whom I didn’t know, but they assured me is a good friend. Then they started talking about people we all knew but I never thought of as part of the clique, but now they’re saying “is so”.

It wasn’t bad memory on my part, it’s just that when I drifted off to University, they stayed glued to each other attracting more friends. And as the years passed they just assumed I knew. And now, I was there feeling detached. I hear the same nasty personal jokes that I used to hate. I saw them insult each other again. And I realised why I had another barkada back then.

The people I’m with those two days are amazing people. They’ve evolved & matured. But you know, I still felt like I didn’t belong. Maybe it was all the years I was never to be found.