Friday, November 09, 2007

The True Wonder Years

There used to be three of us – Cubi (Vincent the third), Michael and I. We are cousins and born only months apart. Growing up with them, I used to think I was a boy too. We spent summers bike racing and thrashing neighbors’ backyards and dueling under the dinner table with our plastic guns. Those were the true wonder years.

For the first few years of our lives, we were raised by our neurotic grandmother while our parents were busy being the hip, young semi-corporate parents that they wanted to be. Because she has no cooking skill whatsoever, we were constantly fed instant noodles with bits of whatever slaughtered mammal, partially cooked rice that felt like gravel and sand against the roof of your mouth and more fortified food that either came out of a can or cooked in under three minutes. Don’t get me wrong. We all love our grandmother dearly and life was fun back then. We all just had to be thankful that people were less suspicious of child abuse during those years.

In the most wonderful of the true wonder years, the three of us lived in my house. Cubi (who lives a street away from me) and I went to the same playschool and wore my panties when he ran out of underwear (the laundry department was very faulty back then). Mike, on the other hand, lives in Planet Bulacan and spent his summers and all other vacation days in our house. We all spent our days watching looney tunes, captain planet and Takeshi’s Castle while drowning our childhood whims in a cuppa Nissin’s instant ramen.

In the most wonderful of the true wonder years, I was almost a boy even though I threw balls like the girl that I am. We went biking everyday, and made big car engine sounds with our bikes racing through the old chapel’s garage.

After several years, the three of us went on to fulfill whatever crappy role we were given. Cubi, the forsaken son of an international scrabble master, started cutting classes in grade school, danced hiphop in high school, danced ballroom in college and is now a faithful manny to our darling baby nephew.

Mike repeatedly got bad grades all throughout school, got tired of it and dropped out to be in a band. Now, he rarely talks and looks like he hasn’t washed his hair in months. He’s no longer the toothy cousin who made me laugh till I peed in my pants. Now he just hangs around, being the miserably cool rocker that he is.

As for me, I set out to be Nerdy Spice. To all my relatives, I am the utterly boring, only begotten daughter slash sole heiress of microfinance crap who never goes out and finds reading dictionaries therapeutic. I am here to make up for whatever mess the other two have made, and in turn they have to suffer for the fact that I have been deemed “the smart one” by the rest of the family. Ha!

It could have been me, break dancing in some alley in between classes or playing bad-ass bassist with my fabulously shower-less hair, but non mon ami. Instead, I have been the one tasked to slave away in the pursuit of academic excellence. I could have been the fun cousin who became a pro BMX racer or what-not. Providence could have been much kinder. Why me? Why me with the sedentary life?

It was only recently that Cubi found out that he was wearing my panties back in playschool. “Now, I know why they felt different!” he candidly shared in an ambush interview in our garage. (What the fozz?!) Recently also, Mike emailed me to ask for help in writing a song about poisons and slitting wrists and other gloomily profound stuff. (Again, what the fozz?!)

I have dedicated an entire night and several kilowatts typing this entry, not only because I miss my childhood (a.k.a. “The Most Wonderful of the True Wonder Years or TMWotTWY) but also because I’m having one of those pre-prequarter life crisis panic attacks. I’m getting scared of getting older too fast (and may I add, getting older too fat). Sooner or later, those two are gonna get some girls (maybe four to seven) pregnant and, god forbid, sooner or later someone’s gonna get me pregnant too. (Erlack!) The Wonder Years have long passed, and we will only be able to relive them through our kids, (Cubi Jr. Or Quatre, Little Mike and Jobel Jr. or, in this case, Chulalongkorn Marie).

**(Notice the unnecessary use of parentheses.)

This is sooooo scary. Please read on, dear friend and help me get through with my mature fears. I miss my old sportif, active life. I miss hanging out with my cousins. I miss eating gummi worms (except for the red ones, because they look like gummy worms! Hello?!). I miss drinking melon-flavoured milk. I miss listening to their stupid jokes and having the melon-flavoured milk squirt out of my nose. I miss doing tres disgusting things. I miss the time when doing tres disgusting things was okay because we were just being cute, little kids.

Back then, we were happy and I didn’t have to stress over counting calories.

What do you miss?

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C h i n i k a n i M i m o s e n u n g b a n d a n g 11:02 PM

Sunday, July 08, 2007

i looove it!

Thank you, world! Thank you, universe! Thank you for ending your plot to drive me insane. Thank you for giving me back my happiness!

I looooove it. It feels so great to be alive. I am crossing off two items in my list. I have accomplished my Martha moments and I am no longer afraid. At least,I can say I can manage to be happy on my own.

Thank you Transformers!!!!!!! Long live the sexy Bumblebee!

I love you, world! Thank you for getting me back online! Thank you, Anya!



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C h i n i k a n i M i m o s e n u n g b a n d a n g 11:00 PM

Saturday, June 09, 2007

the list

In another attempt to find balance in my life and to simply keep myself from going over the brink of sanity, I have created THE LIST.

Well, THE LIST contains a few (a hundred) happy things for me to achieve before I turn 26 (the age that I have assigned to be my official golden age, my wonder year). So with the help of some of my friends and with a lot of time on my hands, I came up with the first part of the list... 37 items for me to accomplish, think about or just roll my eyes at.

1.Go to France with GC Lane for 25th birthday. (the GC Lane connivance!)
2.Send a bouquet of roses to mutti and grandmutti.
3.Treat entire family to movie and dinner.
4.Have a signature scent.
5.Get into ideal weight.
6.Go skinny dipping in another country. (preferrably, after accomplishing number 5!)
7.Tour parents to at least 3 countries. (Korea, France, Germany?)
8.Go on a backpacking trip to Batanes. (anyone up for it? gorgey place!)
9.Cook dinner for flat mates for a week (Paging the sunrise kids: I want my Martha Stewart moment!)
10. Bake a birthday cake for mutti and other special people (another Martha moment)
11.Jog around the UP acad oval
12.Be a game show contestant (and actually win this time!!!!!)
13.Go out for a day wearing a wig (and a phony accent to match..)
14.Send a few kids to school
15.Buy a car and buy another car for vatti
16.Go to an art museum with friends for fun
17.Sing in a public videoke place
18.Graduate! (and with honors)
19.Sing and dance in the rain
20.Host reunion parties for grade school and high school friends. (and say "It's been awhile. I'm so glad you came!" like a hundred times throughout the party)
21.Read the Bible and have one verse that will sum up life philosophy
22.Vote and vote wisely
23.Go to the congress and senate to see how things work in there (a la Gin Pomelo video)
24.Visit the province alone
25.Ice-skate without falling on bottom too much (then, challenge "Mare" to a "skate-off"! Nyek.)
26.Have an article published in a reputable newspaper
27.Go on a food trip/ backpack trip and explore Manila
28.Grow a garden (another Martha moment)
29.Take photos of mutti and vatti together
30.Write a song and record it (or perform it in public)
31.Perform in a stage play or musical
32.Go scuba diving
33.Collect trash underwater while scuba diving
34.Write a message or verse of hope and spread it through creative means (so totally cheesy, just like in the Brian McKnight music video)
35.Makeover someone who needs it (like myself)
36.Treat some kids to the amusement park or to the movies
37.Stop being afraid


I like lists. I like the fact that somehoe they convey some sense of order (which I need badly). This may turn out to be a therapeutic activity, and maybe the bogeyman will stop the midnight tearjerkers. If not, I'll leave this business to Earl Hickey.

xxmimose

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C h i n i k a n i M i m o s e n u n g b a n d a n g 4:49 PM