there was a time, not so long ago, where i, fascinated by the lack of traffic, the easy laid back life, and the general cheapness of everything, contemplated on moving my entire life to cabanatuan city. i'd take over one of my aunt's guest rooms, park spike in the garage, and set up practice in the city or somewhere, or probably work for the local government, or whatever. cabanatuan city, then, seemed like a perfect mix of semi-urban life (with the mall now boasting of a body shop) and rural living (egg caldo and halo-halo at the corner of my lola's street).

but then, i got into this crazy habit of going home every two weeks. this first weekend, immediately after the bar, was lovely. i hung out online, drove my aunt around, and visited this nice derma who got rid of the little warts i got on my cheeks.

the second trip home was equally lovely. my cousin and her kids were also on vacation, and i got to bond big time with my only female cousin. we had hot oil done, and a back massage. we drove around, had coffee and cake, and watched bad television such as pinoy big brother.

the third trip - this trip - made the entire "home in the province" dream lose its novelty. by this time, my cousin's other kid was also here and she had just given birth to a baby so i had to deal with one one-year old girl and two boys who kept follwing me around the house. when they left, relieved as i was, i had to deal with being polite to my aunt's boyfriend, who's nice to me all the time, but still isn't family. i camped out in the other bedroom and had to deal with imagined surot preventing me from sleeping soundly. i also had to deal with a parlor that was closed (i had been oh so looking forward to getting a body scrub) and an internet cafe that feels weird (dark curtains and moaning ghost sounds cause it's halloween).

so there. the tiangge here may be updated enough to have a faux louis vuitton happy cherries wallet and there may be a cafe with a pretty decent tiramisu. my aunt's house may be a shelter that i wouldn't mind living in. but as long as the internet cafe has flying surot, i think i'm going to stay a manila girl for some time more.

here i was thinking that i was oh-so-ready for the husband and kids kind of life, until i spent two weekends with my niece and nephews and by the second weekend, i was ready to lock myself in my aunt's room and not come out until twelve hours later.

wait, that was exactly what i did.

four chattering kids, two of which follow me like i'm the pied piper or something. yesterday, they wanted to go online when i was online, sing videoke when i was singing, and well, eat whatever it was that i was eating.

was i tempted to take in sleeping pills to make them sleep? hell yes. i'm an evil aunt i know.

anyway, the house is quiet once more. my only girl cousin (the mom of the four kids) was picked up by my uncle and aunt and other cousin. they're on their way back to laguna. the maids are busy cleaning up the house, throwing all the sheets and what not in the wash, and making sure that everything's back in order. once more, i'm the only guest (oh wait, my aunt's boyfriend is here too) here. i've one of the guest rooms all to myself, the pc and internet all to myself, and the food, yes the food all to myself.

including a galon of cheese and cashew ice cream.

apparently, i don't need a self-help book to help me get over my single status. nor do i need a posse of giggling girlfriends helping me look for the next good catch. i don't need retail therapy or a day at the spa or anything. all i need is two weekends with chattering, noisy, drooling, pooping, shouting, and crazy kids and i am so ready to face another year of being single.

give me another year to enjoy my shoes and bags, single life and dating, watching tv in peace and quiet. maybe when i hit 29, i can think about it again.

but for now, i can do away with the smelly pampers, thank you very much.

(although i do love my inaanak, iya, so much. thank goodnes she's beginning to bloom into this pretty, self-sufficient, and i-won't-take-shit-from-anyone kind of girl. exactly like her ninang.)

while there's a huge part of me that wants to ask satan to reserve a special place in hell for all my ex-boyfriends, there are times when you realize that not all ex-boyfriends are evil enough to deserve such fate.

some even deserve that special little corner in heaven for simply being your constant guardian angel, notwithstanding the fact that you broke their heart and was the bitch from hell the entire time you were together.

so, even if i know that the martian will never ever read this blog, a big shout out to him, and a big thank you with hugs and kisses, for sending that lovely SMS yesterday offering me an unlimited LRT pass when he found out that i've begun commuting to work. he may be married, and he may have a kid now, but i know deep in my heart that if i were to find myself in the driving rain with a smashed radiator, angry men in a pick-up, and quivering from a major car accident (like i did two and a half years ago), he'll still be the first person i'll call up because he's the most dependable person i know.

i know i never said it enough while we were together, and i know i didn't even do enough to make you feel it, you are the best. and thank you for continuing to be my guardian angel up to this day.

-oOo-

incidentally, one day my dad asked how i was and too lazy to type out the story of my life on ym, i gave him the link to my blog.

ok. so i may be one of the few people in the world who actually told her dad about her blog. i thought he'd read one entry, or two, or three at the most, but before i knew it, he tells me he's reading the entire of october and will be back to go through my archives.

there's a bit of fear at the pit of my stomach, fear that he may not like the daughter he left back home in manila, or that he may realize he knows so little of me. there's a fear that i said something that might incriminate me in the future, or said something that's going to send him packing, make him board a plane, and guard my sassy little ass till he believes i'm old enough to date.

but i don't care.

my dad paid me one of those rare compliments that means the world to me. he thinks i write well.

and on a hot october evening, fighting sleep and dreading having to wake up early the next day, a compliment like that will mean the whole world to you.

as if my yahoo problems weren't enough, today, my internet connection decided it didn't want to connect. burned with my god awful experience with go internet and just too damn lazy to buy another prepaid internet card, i said, screw the world, i'm going to just connect using pldt vibe.

which i did, for a week. it was fast, it was reliable, and i at least don't have to deal with how much i am actually spending online until the phone bill arrives. bahala na si batman (and my almost non-existent savings account).

except that tonight, at the end of a very long day wherein

1. i almost engaged in a catfight with a cashier in a laboratory along taft;
2. where i accomplished NOTHING at work except fill out yet another set of application forms, schedule a neuro exam at pgh, lead the rosary, and watch two episodes of sweet 18;
3. got major chismis from a former student who i love dearly; and
4. finally met up with sammie

my internet connection simply refused to connect.

the strong believer that i am of customer service number, i alternated between trying to connect to pldt vibe and calling their customer service number.

nothing. zilch. nada.

ooooh. v. v. irritating.

and v. v. frustrating. frustrating enough that i was ready to try all the possible letter/number combinations and figure out my brother's password so i can steal some of his internet time. frustrating enough that i called a friend and contemplated on begging for internet time, except that thank goodness she was asleep and she didn't pick up the phone.

i mean, it would have been embarrassing had she answered a ringing cellphone at 1130 in the evening, contemplating on what emergency i may be having, only to realize i was desperate to go online.

when reason prevailed, i realized that damn, i DO have a car which i had just loaded with gasoline and that i DO have money in my wallet, and there IS a 7-11 store 2.3 kms (do not argue with me, i checked using the tripmeter!) away from my house. what's a girl quite desperate to go online to do?

throw all caution to the wind (don't leave the house late, don't go there cause it's full of tambays and what nots, you're a girl you're supposed to stay at home after ten) and drive out, buy that damn internet card, and manage, after one and a half hours of sheer frustration, to finally go online.

and blog about how i had the toughest time going online.

keith, i blame you for this addiction. had it not been for my desire to read your posts again, some of which i read real quick cause i had to go to work already, i may not have been as desperate. if i were to to die real popular, please do my memoirs. your wicked wit will definitely capture the bitch in me.

there are things that not even finally finding the uber-fabulous pointy dalmatian print on pony hair flat shoes you've been wanting for the longest time can fix.

like how life is unfair. how you know you were the one who prayed so hard for your justice to get appointed to the court of appeals but simply because you were still in law school at that time and because several people became lawyers ahead of you, you know that you can only stay in her office up until you pass the bar. after you finally pass it, and when that lovely atty. is finally attached to your name, you'll be overqualified for the position, and even if you were willing to stay in the same position and earn a thousand less than what the lowest lawyer on her staff earns, you're not stupid enough to do that cause RATA is around 6k a month and you aren't rich enough to let go of that much money if only to stay with a justice you respect.

oooohhhh.

i wish i can be adult - or magnanimous - enough to say that it's just money and that job fulfillment can't hold a candle against a stuffed bank account but i am always sorely reminded of the fact that i am 28 years old and that the money in my bank account can't even buy me an authentic gucci bag. while i may have bought my own car, and while the car is in my name, i know that i haven't made car payments in months and that i still owe more than half on my car. i know that i have to make ends meet just to pay my insurance and my car registration and that if something were to happen to me right now, i won't be able to pay my hospital bils.

i need AND want the money.

i don't know what to do, except gripe on and on about how life is so unfair.

even if i were able to finally buy the shoes i love.

p.s. shout-out to farah and to you (i don't know if you want your name here)--- ooooh. i do love your blogs!

p.p.s. i also love the fact that you guys appreciate pointy shoes as much as i do and so this post - which begins and ends with my new pair of shoes - is dedicated to you.

p.p.s. farah - while i'd want to agree with you that round toe shoes do look stumpy, i am an equal opportunity shoe lover and so i have to admit that i also have stumpy shoes, and if i had my way, round toe ballet flats would never be taken out of the shoe market.

i thought my gold belt was the height of fashion...

... until my three-year old nephew grabbed my belt, slung it over his shoulders, and shouted at the top of his voice, "heavyweight champion, errold!"

*sigh*

blinded by the sweet scent of money

from the get go, i've always known that i won't be working for a law firm, at least not a kick-ass huge, money-making, ultra important law firm. all those years working while studying has convinced me that right after the bar, i'm going to take it slow, enjoy my work while making enough money, and for the first time, breathe.

i thought i had it made when i got the job in the court of appeals. i've got a good justice, officemates are cool, and it's exactly what i've wanted since fourth year law school. but then yesterday, while we were out in the mall, i finally found out what working for the law firm really means.

at least six hundred effing thousand a year. at least. not at the most, or maximum of but they're guaranteed six hundred thousand a year. of course that's before taxes. and that's before the lifestyle you need to go with the salary, which includes, among other things, dry cleaning bills (for the suits), gasoline (cause you can't be riding an fx no more), and a hot cup of starbucks coffee (after all, you've gone by with 2 hours sleep only). it's not all good, an officemate who formerly worked for a law firm said.

but the money, i sighed. that means being able to finally finish spike payments.

the thought stayed with me the entire afternoon. and the whole of last night. and came back again when i woke up this morning.

i know i love what i'm doing now.

and they did tell me that the bonuses in the government are relatively competitve (although admittedly it will never be anywhere near 600k).

and i know that the connections i'll be making now will be invaluable in my future in the judiciary.

still.

the sweet scent of money.

*sigh*

i'm convinced: yahoo messenger hates me.

not only does it hate me, it hates me with a passion. a passion i have never witnessed all those years when i was stuck using MSN messenger to chat with my parents.

*sigh*

in the beginning, it was just a simple matter of "delayed messages". my dad would buzz me incessantly thinking i had fallen asleep or that i had left the pc running which i ran to the other room to watch bits and pieces of CSI (which, admittedly, i'd do sometimes) only to realize that YM, much like a sucat-baclaran fx, would patiently wait until it had all the messages it wanted then dump them within seconds of each other on my dad's pc. that wasn't really fun, but being sun cellular subscriber, i'm pretty much familiar with the concept of message lag... and somehow, wasn't really bothered by it.

eventually, the problem turned into YM arbitrarily deciding it wants to stop me from chatting, maybe cause anna and i have been making certain people lait (i'm sorry if i'm writing this way, but really, there isn't really any other way to capture the emotion, right?)without guilt. one minute i'd be happily typing away, the next minute i'd be stuck with the sleeping icon.

now, YM has gotten trickier. last sunday, it involved YM refusing to launch its window. i clicked, right clicked, used even the icon on my internet browser, all to no avail. YM, at least to me, was simply just not going to happen. sometimes, it would show me the bouncing yellow happy face over and over again. it would bounce, display the message "connecting rvillanv", pause - as if to tell me, almost there! almost there - then go on bouncing again. i wait, and wait, and wait, and it never connects.

by the time i actually get to connect to YM, after several PC restarts and after battling with my sucky dial-up ISP, the person i was supposed to chat with, has left the room already.

bugger.

i hope that google comes up with something soon. much like the way it revolutionized searching online, emailing, and blogging, i hope that google will do something about instant messaging. i am at wit's end with YM, especially with parents who seem to have no plans of coming home anytime soon and friends so busy that you only get to chat with them online instead of real life. one day, i might smash the pc i'm using out of sheer frustration, but since the reality of an apple iBook beneath my fingers still months away, i'm going to have to exercise what little patience i have in dealing with the situation.

i know i said i was going to do a whole lot of fun stuff after the bar. massage, haircut, hair treatments, manicure and pedicure, and a major shopping spree. with the exception of the haircut that i desperately needed, i haven't done any of those yet.

i mean, buying a pair of shoes does not count as a shopping spree, right?

what's funny though is that a week into my job as EA5 (i dunno what that means but that's what my position is) and i've actually forgotten about "the grand post-bar plan". i'm actually enjoying work, and similar to a pre-schooler who can't wait to go to school, i can't wait to go to work. not only that, i manage to hit the books for half an hour each night researching for the decisions i'm drafting.

once more i've turned into part nerd, part recluse. and somehow, i'm loving it. not even robinson's manila, which happened to be one of my most favorite malls in the past, can lure me from my desk when i've begun writing.

for the past week, my schedule's been like, wake-up, go to work, go home, curl up with a good book, and sleep. i've managed to read three fiction books already and finish a decision, a whole lot of resolutions, and am halfway through another decision.

and total mall expense? P319, for the shoes.

i don't know how long i'll get to keep this up though. but until the feeling fades away, i guess the entire world is stuck with rosa the nerd.

so you better love that, for now.

i <3 the court of appeals.

i <3 using my brain every single day to draft decisions, resolutions, and what-nots.

i <3 my justice who actually reads every single line of my drafts, corrects them, and passes them on to the stenographer without making a big deal out of the little mistakes that i made.

i <3 being allowed to arrive at 8:30 and to leave at 4:30 ... not because i'm sneaking out but simply because those are the working hours.

i <3 the freedom my justice gives us, by just giving us deadlines instead of looking over our shoulders every single minute making sure we churn out decisions every single minute of the day.

i <3 the people in the staff, the lawyers, clerks, and stenographer who have been all so nice to me and my friend.

i <3 the fact that i can now ride the fx to work (my dream for the longest time, i don't know why) or the bus and not need to drive to get to work comfortably.

i <3 the fact that i don't have to rush off to somewhere - which is basically what i have been doing since i graduated from college, first because of my MA classes, then because of law school, then because of the bar - and be able to finally sit down in coffee places and chat with friends OR just walk around the mall OR even just lie down on my bed and finish book after book.

but, i still do NOT <3 the uniforms.

on my first actual day of work at the court of appeals (i've been "working" there - doing the work at home but not reporting at the office due to the bar- since mid-april), i finally realized why the government and its instrumentalities, are quite unproductive: their uniforms are quite, to put it mildly, something no one would wear on any given day.

i mean, come on, unless you're a peaches and cream barbie doll, you wouldn't want to be decked out in head to toe peach right?

right.

tuesdays i think are mustard-colored days, and i don't even want to think what they wear on wednesdays and thursdays. thank god for fridays laundry days, because on that day, people, should they wish to, can erase the memory of ever wearing head to toe peach (or mustard!) by wearing something great, fabulous, and oh-so-fashionista.

i'm shuddering at the thought of having my measurements taken for a uniform, not because my measurements aren't exactly 36-25-36 right now but because once they give me the uniforms, i'd be constrained to wear it. and goodness, i don't think any amount of accessorizing or shoe shopping can fix the fact that the pants are sort of bitin and are baston and the cut is universally un-flattering.

why do uniforms have to be ugly? can't they got some hot-shot designer, say, rajo laurel, to create something nice, tasteful, and something that will make everyone feel like actually wearing the uniform? i remember that there was a year in CSA where they gave the teachers the same fabric and allowed the teachers to design their own uniforms. i don't know if it was just me, but i'd like to think the teachers taught better that year, and i learned more.

anyway, i'll be getting ready for work in a while. no uniform for me just yet, and so today, i'll indulge in MY inner fashionista and try to look amazing and cute and all that. it won't be hard to do in a sea of mustard.

p.s. shout out to boss rey: i SMSd you yesterday about you and me and VV getting together now that the bar is over. you didn't reply. schedule something, will you?

p.p.s. shout out to calvin: i sent you SMS, lots of it, but i think sun hates me again, notwithstanding the fact that i'm actually ahead of my payments.

p.p.p.s. shout out to faerah: i finally know what we have in common. yay. it involves one of my favorite persons in the world who used to look like this boy in a bear brand commercial when we were kids. i don't know if my brother told him that but you can try asking him about it.

p.p.p.p.s shout out to anna: so, are you coming home? i'm readying my lait genes, shopping genes, chismis genes, and parlor genes already for major bonding with you. btw - we ARE going to 168 and shopping big time :) i actually restrained myself from using my bonus (we got a bonus at CA already, something i got once in the 6 years i worked for THAT school!)

too broke to go out and buy the shoes i've been wanting for more than a month now and too lazy to do anything productive, i spent my first day of vacation lounging around the house.

it was a normal day.

in fact, it was quite a boring day. an entirely forgettable day. a day that was just like any other boring, non-momentous, why-did-god-create-boring-days-such-as-this kind of day.

except my ex called, again. after roughly seven weeks of not hearing anything from him, not even a measly "good luck" for the bar, he somehow managed to dredge my home number from the inner recesses of his brain, dial my number, and chat with me.

as with before, it was one of those hi, how are you, are you now seeing someone new kind of call. and as with before, the phone call left me bewildered, puzzled, and with the knowledge that no matter how hard i try to deny it, affected.

and so, if you're someone's ex boyfriend,

please don't call her unless you want to get back together.
please don't pretend you want to be friends, because i'm willing to bet, she has more than enough friends.
please don't make chit-chat about her schedule unless you're making plans of seeing her.

and please, if you were mean enough to tell her you don't love her anymore, understand that the immediate consequence of that act means that she might probably not want to hear from you for a very very long time.