Nag fit ako sa harap ni Mama ng mga damit na nahalungkat ko mula sa aking kabinet kanina. Pang trip lang. At tini-tingnan rin namin kung kasya pa sa akin yung ibang mga damit ko. Hindi ko alam kung ituturing ko iyong insulto dahil para namang as if hindi na ako papayat pang muli. Pero ika nga ni Mama nung nakita niya ang kahubaran ng aking katawan kanina, hanggang new year lang ito. Mawawala rin yan. *crosses fingers* But anyway, I found this red blouse I haven’t really had much guts to wear yet, or maybe the occasion calling for it hasn’t risen yet so it has resorted to befriending spiders and cabinet dust inside the drawers. The blouse, which was a teeny-weeney-really-really-wee-bit revealing, was styled for places like Malate/Makati/Libis, and since I haven’t really gotten into much happenings lately, I could only see myself wearing it in the mirror. Hmm. Maybe it’s about time I ask Mark to yet another bar hop. I gingerly placed on the outfit. I looked at my self in the mirror. My mother did too. “You’re getting fat.” Sigh. Expect to hear the things you don’t want to hear from my mother. “Can you really wear that? Your brothers are going to kill you.” “Which is WHY it’s ESSENTIAL to wear this when they’re already gone. Or when I’m not with them,” I replied. I took a couple more glances in the mirror. “You DO understand you can’t wear that with a bra.” I nodded. “Can you really do that?” She ventured. “Walk around with err…you know.” I paused for a while. Then shrugged. “It would look nice in your cabinet, then.” She smiled, then went inside her room. Sigh. I really have to slim up. —————— I began my usual photowhoring the other day. I thought maybe I needed to replace my picture we put on display in the family room. I was then 7 years old. I’m already 19, for crying out loud. Besides, I think I need to replace my friendster pictures. You know, vanity. Everyone has to answer to that need. So I took a couple of shots on our back yard. Then my dog came up, so I was cuddling him around while I pushed the button. Man. I’m going to age a few years after this, and I’m going to look back at these photos. I can almost hear my self saying, “God, I was THIS fat Christmas of 2004?!” Sigh.

I just consumed the best tasting sandwich I’ve had this year. Not minding the fact of course that it also somewhat tastes of my fingers. I’ve prepared it myself, so I was extra generous on everything–the lettuce, the ham, the tomatoes, even the mayo, placing everything on like I haven’t had enough of them since christmas. It was more than two inches thick. Yummy.

I don’t mind the extra carbos, really. It looks delicious anyway. Besides, I didn’t put in a gram since christmas. Believe me. Not a gram, not even an ounce.

Just a ton. *sigh*

I can feel the bulges already. I hate it how this chilly holiday always has to be attributed to food, too. I mean, can’t we like have this “it’s christmas, we should all cook food but never eat more than your stomach can hold (which should be limited to just a handful)” holidays? Sigh.

Christmas was nice this year, though. All the six of us were present, plus Chloe (on her first christmas, by the way), and two of my brothers’ closest friends, Steve and Renato. My mom gave us yet another treat and made her famous spaghetti (she doesn’t cook it Filipino style, you know, the abhorring spaghetti sauce with ketchup), which I by the way forced on Adraiene (Paul to you cyber people, that’s his other name) when he came to our house on the 25th. I got a nice “coffee magic” cup from my second brother Chris and his girlfriend. I didn’t have the heart to say I stopped drinking coffee, or at least for a week prior to Christmas, I have. I’m starting to heavily abuse it again to develop this lose-weight program I’m going to heavily enforce on myself. Sigh.

25th was spent with the first half eating (again) with the family sans my eldest brother and his wife but plus my brother’s girlfriend Liza. We were all exchanging banters and mild laughter while I was fixing the ecard I was going to send to our US based relatives. All energy died down though and and wasn’t able to greet Adraiene’s arrival at around 4 pm, when everyone went to sleep instead. Bored, we ran to SM Bacoor to catch Kris’ another effort at lame comedy. Boylet and I ended up laughing our heads off at Ranier’s stoopid appearance, which was–probably like his career would end up being–short and abrupt, and would later on poke you with a question of what in hell was its purpose. The movie could stand strong without Ranier and Yasmien. And so could the showbiz stand (very very very) strong without the two.

We got home to a commotion. Well, okay, just way too many visitors. Ate Charm’s brother Rc was there with his wife and two kids, and then later on came my tito’s family (around 5 family members, plus yaya) who brought my father home from another get together with our other relatives. After a short isaw break the boylet and I took, we came home to find yet another visitor, a friend of my brothers with her son from a what we pressumed was their annual pamamasko. Amazing. They’re Iglesians. *chuckles*

And then today the whole day was spent on Chloe. Yes, that little tot yet again stole the whole day and was the subject of all the photos taken today. They’re still amazed at how the two-month-old can already talk to everyone through “oooohhs” and “aaaaahhs”; you know, sort of like what a baby does when it’s doing an attempt at talking but can’t. Also reminisced with one of the family’s favorite movies, Mikee and Aga’s Forever. Would you believe? My brother actually bought himself a dvd copy for christmas. He was one of those who were gravely saddened when Mikee got married to Dodot, because he was heavily into the Mikee-Aga tandem.

Hmm. Made me wonder what Aga would do if ever he married Mikee and got caught up with the Hacienda Luisita thingy (which, by the way, was also one of the locations in the movie).

Btw, am leaving you with a christmas message:

A nice christmas to you folks. And in case I forget (and if the video malfunctions), A really happy new year too.

Contrary to the popular delusions of our neighbors, we do have a broom and dust pan at home. And yes, it’s functional and we are actually exceptional in utilizing it. Well, okay, so maybe not really that exceptional, but we do use it. Seldom, but at least we use it. Okay, admittedly even very, very seldom.

My mother gave up on us quite recently after “realizing” that she has been “exploited” by a bunch of lazy people, so she’s adamantly declined to lift a finger to clean up. I can’t go on reasoning that brushing some dead leaves won’t be contributing to the mental health of a future philosopher, if not, a media whore (why pick up the dead? Let it fly freely along with its lost soul, on hopes of meeting its creator, says my poetic self. Of course my mother would not agree that it’s applicable also to dead leaves), so naturally, I had to do something. I can’t go on with our hacienda forever looking like it’s experiencing fall.

On a sudden hit of inspiration this morning, I picked up a broom and swept our garden. Blame it on the non-existent puto bumbong on my stomach, I decided to look for other ways to heat up my body.

Don’t get me wrong. I love cleaning. I can go on waxing our floors or cleaning around if I didn’t have classes and other extra curricular chores to distract. I don’t like the job of cleaning outside our house though because of some nosy neighbors. You know, those reed-thin (or otherwise) people from the next doors who are always perched on their balconies acting like they’re basking in the sun as if they haven’t had enough vitamin Ds when in fact they’re just vultures undercover. If they’re not looking at you imagining you’re lunch, you’re either that rat trapped on some stupid branches and treated like some low class entertainment. I’m not Mahal, thank you very much.

But, sigh, a chore is a chore. So I put on my favorite holey violet tank top and left my jeans on, then put on my jacket. It was still too early in the morning and I didn’t want to have the fog contribute more to my now aching nose (caught colds just last night), plus, I didn’t really want to emerge as a budding exhibitionist. Gingerly, I handled the broom, thinking whether I should sweep right to left or other wise. I tried it once. Just to catch my drift.

Hmm. Right to left indeed. Perfect.

(See, if I was putting in this much thought on my studies, I would have been on the dean’s list.)

And then, I wouldn’t stop. I started cleaning out the whole backyard. I even changed into shorts for my convenience, which made me look like the un-stereotypical chimay Paul and I used to laugh about (rich visayan amos with coñotic maids going “Ate, can I like make bale so that I can go shopping at Galle today?”), if not, a frustrated sexy starlet on the verge of desperation. I pick the former. I didn’t mind, though. The audiences couldn’t see me from the side and back parts of the yard. And I doubt it really if the dogs would applaud if they get a peek at whatever.

Or maybe it really wasn’t a delusion when I thought I heard a snicker amongst the dogs a while ago. Ah, well.

But you know what, it actually made me think about the state the world’s in today–all those wars and famine, the hunger and things that may actually be solved if there was an initiative, and heavy things around the world that required patience. Well, okay, not really. But I do like to pretend I’m deep once in a while. Harhar.

I had fun cleaning out, though. I suddenly have more reasons to scream at my father if he litters around. (I’m claiming reign over things I clean out. He heh)

The first one was yellow.
The second was pink.
And nope! It isn’t my favorite color neither hers that I am talking about.

These were the colors that made us more popular to those who find us cute (eherm), more masa… and “conjugally” related, as they say.

Yes, we wore the same colors of tees on different occasions on different dates (The yellow was on December first, MTV Music Summit in Taguig and the pink one was just last Saturday). Funny, though, we never talked about what color of tee to wear. For goodness sake, we don’t belong to those oh-we-both-must-wear-the-same-color-of-tee-for-people-to-know-that-we’re-on-and-we-are-so-hooked-to-each-other couples. Nah! No offense meant, but rather I’m saying that we never planned to do such even if all people surrounding us didn’t believe.

For one, I never entertained the idea of me making pink as my fave color… not until she told me that I look good on that color *me conceited*

Nevertheless, we still are a cute couple whatever color of tees we wear *another hydrocephalus-causing thought*

***

If you’d notice, I really post occasionally… err, rarely… err, once in a blue moon. During one of our joshing conversations, she mentioned that she didn’t really have a co-blogger in me. She only had a guest writer. And she poked on the idea to delete me in her blog.

And this was just a make-up for those shortcomings. *laughs*