my mom can attest to this: i am a christmas addict. notwithstanding the fact that i was totally dependent on my allowance, my christmas list was long and lengthy, including even the security guard at the dormitory where i stayed. i'd begin shopping around october, my personal christmas tree would be with me when i checked in the dorm by second semester, and by december, the only thing that i was doing was actually waiting for christmas to finally arrive.

fast forward to 2005 where the ratio of gifts given and gifts received has turned the other way and i am a virtual humbag. i attempted, and almost succeeded, doing my entire christmas shopping list in one day, and that included having all the presents wrapped using at the store where i bought them (unlike before where each present would be lovingly wrapped with special treats, bows, and little knick-knacks to make it a very very special present). i'd attack each store with an excel prepared list, which included columns for gift recipient, budget, and gift idea and blank columns for where i'd put the gift actually bough and money spent on the gift. special, personalized gifts became a thing of the past, especially as i came out of body shop with the exact same gift for three persons on my list.

as my christmas bonus began transforming itself into gaily wrapped packages, none of which, i may add, would be opened by me, i felt more and more despondent. with the sole exception of a friend who dragged me over to the charles and keith sale and bought me the pair of shoes i've been salivating over as a christmas gift, i wasn't expecting any packages to come my way. being the i'd-rather-read-a-book-than-giggle-with-a-handful-of-girls person that i was, i can count with the fingers of one hand who i consider to be my really good friends, and these really good friend were more like me in the sense that our world would not stop if we didn't text/call/see each other in months, even years. more than half of my immediate and extended family is abroad (and none of them seem to be familiar with the concept of sending over-burdened balikbayan boxes filled with a whole lot of nonsense presents, which, for the record, i love), and those that are here aren't the gift-giving kind.

and it was then that it happened. i knew that no matter how many times the priest sermoned over the last couple of weeks that christmas really meant the birth of christ and the miracle of our salvation, receiving no presents at all would totally destroy christmas, even for a grown woman of 28. and with a christmas day spent driving from region four, through NCR, all the way to the heart of region three just to ferry home an irate grandmother, i realized why my parents, aunts, and uncles used to dread the arrival of december 25.

but then i somehow found myself having lunch at the mall and there i was faced with store windows proudly announcing that they have slashed their prices, in effect telling me that, okay, now you can buy what you wanted but never could get yourself to buy because of the hefty price tag.

i'm now eyeing this shoe cabinet at 5% off from blims. there's also this folding table that would be so good for BEN who now happens to be plunked over a monoblock chair for lack of an empty surface in my room. that's 5% off too. mango has a sale and so does every frigging little store at the mall.

i am excited. i am in heaven.

and, i realized as i planned my "mall course of action" when i woke up this morning, christmas, for me, has finally arrived.

i just realized how much of a sale addict i am when, while shopping for a universal adaptor, i was able to get one that was selling at 50% off the original price.

life post revelry...

...means being very hung over, notwithstanding the fact that the only drinking you got to do was two (or was it more?) glasses of vodka with more than a splash of sprite light with your aunt.

...means having that resolve the enroll in a gym especially when your middle begins to resemble santa claus. (and this is before you've gotten halfway through the fruitcake stash in your refrigerator)

...is creating occassions so you can use the new bag/shoes/top/jeans that found their way to your closet.

...having that feeling of extreme poverty, especially after the stores magically slashed their prices the day after christmas. i KNOW i don't need those two pairs of shoes at charles and keith and i KNOW i don't need that lovely cream bag at alfa but i WANT them. damn that 25,000km check-up. were it not for that, i would be the proud new owner of 2 lovely mules and a boxy bag THIS VERY MINUTE.

...means wanting to stay at home and sink into bed with your lovely copy of memoirs of a geisha (so not the kind being sold over at national bookstore) and lindt mints with dark chocolate and forget that you actually have to work for a living...

... which reminds me that it is SO not christmas anymore and i am SO not on a leave, there being no leaves to avail of yet, which makes me ask the question,

WHAT AM I DOING IN MY PAJAMAS AT 8 IN THE MORNING AND NOWHERE NEAR THE COURT OF APPEALS?

i gotta go.

and pretend to work.

or probably really work, there being this lovely machine aka as my new laptop...

...which still happens to be nameless...

...which needs a name that will match spike the car and buffy the ipod mini...

...and it's so not going to be angel.

uhm, calling on keith. i am so not a buffy fan, and i only watch it cause of my intense love for spike, but i need a new name. thanks....whose name happens to be BEN.

PS. shout out to rey who hasn't made a squeak in months, especially when it cames to invites for some revelry with me and vanessa. are you still around?? we need you. please show urself.

while folklore tells us that santa lives over in the northpole, my santas happen to live elsewhere... in north america to be exact.

santa #1 is my dear sweet dad who found a way to get my laptop to me just a mere two days after christmas. it's lovely, lovely, lovely, with the wide screen and the dvd player and the dvd-writer. i will have to get used to life without floppy disks, but by golly, with an amazing laptop such as this, who needs floppies? (although papa it keeps making this "fairy" sound - you know, the sound faries make when they appear - and i don't know where it's coming from!!!! or how to turn it off even).

santa #2 is sweet keith who, contrary to numerous reminders to save instead of buying presents, sent over two things that make me sigh in this world: a book i've been wanting to read and mint chocolate. as if those weren't enough, she placed them in a lovely powder blue shoe bag. girl, i don't know how you do it but you ALWAYS manage to make me fall in love with your cards and presents.

the season won't be over until santa #3 comes along, this time, in the form of my aunt who will be having her grand christmas blow-out on january 5. i am hoping that the budget is similar to last year's (which means i MAY still be able to buy yet another fino bag) and i hope that they stock up on good stuff over at gateway (this year's venue)so that i'll be coming home with something lovely, something pretty, and something that i will really, really love.

28, and oh so materialistic.

it's christmas. who cares?

something about the holidays brings out the road rage devil in me that not even my favorite christmas cd can appease. since i have a tendency to depress the horn without letting go until the object of my anger has ceased doing the intolerable, i bring you:

ROSA'S ROAD RULES RESULTING from her ROAD RAGE

1. if you just learned to drive yesterday, the holidays isn't the best time to master your skills driving stick.

2. if you're number one and you just have to drive that car cause your gf refuses to ride a jeepney, don't drive along main roads. you're one of the many reasons why there is traffic.

3. if you've finally gotten that girl to allow you to take her home and you are making the most of a ten kilometer drive, take the side roads. avoid driving along main thoroughfare. you're not only bothering the other motorists, you are likewise making the million and one people who are loveless this christmas even more pissed.

4. if you do not know where you're going, don't go there. people who stop at every damn corner checking if it's kampupot st. already is also quite irritating. (corollarily, if you're the person they're visiting, please give better directions.)

5. 30 kph isn't the speed of a car. it's the speed of a tricycle. if you're going to drive at 30, drive a trike. or don't drive at all. do you know how much gasoline you're wasting simply because you're staying at third gear????

i know there's more. however, i have sufficiently calmed down.

feel free to add your own if you've developed any over the holidays.

-oOo-
in other news, my right bicep is as painful as hell. seeing as i do no exercise, not even a pitiful attempt to pop in the vcr my trusty tae-bo exercise video, i came to the only conclusion a logical person would arrive at:

i have been shopping way too much lugging my semi-ginormous bag in one arm.

dear rox,

shoes-es for 365 days on your desk. check.

music for your iPod. (click and download) check.

me coming home. check.

so where is this ms CA going to take you? isn't there some kind of age restriction? and what are you going to perform in the talent portion? if the contest is based on beauty and brains, you're overqualified. but only if to ensure that your name is on that magic roll, then by all means, walk the ramp. this means new wardrobe and accessories, doesn't it? frankly, mothership should sponsor you.

seriously, go have a good time and may the shoe whore get the bragging rights.

i am relieved and glad to know that you'll be with family come christmas eve. so will i, although driving to chicago for 2-1/2 hours isn't the same as driving to sta. rosa, is it?

i'm actually looking forward to my homecoming. well, i have to take advantage of it. film school would keep me too busy to fly home for the next coming years.

anyway, happy christmas to you and to your readers.

heart,
gw

i love my job, no doubt about it. i love the non-crazy hours, the decent pay, the cool boss, the funky officemates, and most especially what i actually do to get paid. my job description's filled with easy things to do, and even if i end up doing the same tasks as a full-fledged lawyer, i've no qualms. i found my dream job and i plan to stay for as long as i can.

until my boss exercised that part of my contract which says, "and those other things which may be assigned by your direct superior from time to time." because sometime between after she sttended a meeting for the 70th anniversary of the court of appeals and when she sat down beside me during the christmas lunch which she sponsored for her staff, she got the idea of choosing me, yes me, to be our office's representative for ms. court of appeals.

now, anyone who has seen me in real life would probably say, no effing way, especially after i gained all that weight and after my skin started breaking out, and after i started depending on regular trips to the parlor for hair color due to my prematurely graying hair and after, well, after they recall that i am just 5'2 1/2" tall. but when my boss gets an idea into her head, it's there, and being barely two months into my job, i am not about to defy office orders, am i.

so i am going to have to enroll in a gym to lose about 30 pounds. and i am going to have to make a date with gilbert the stylist for some hair treatments. the body scrub and massage i have been putting off must be scheduled immediately. and those lovely brownies sold by this lovely gay man at work? well, they must be ignored.

goodbye rice.
goodbye bacon.
goodbye lovely buffet breakfast meals at hacienda.

i'm a woman with a mission. and if winning this damn beauty contest will mean currying favor with my boss who has what it takes to make it all the way to the supreme court, then by golly, this will take every single bit of energy i've got.

-oO0-

at least i already got my starbucks planner.

yup, the girl who has never finished a starbucks promo in her entire life and who was always just simply roped into helping others complete their promo cards finally completed an entire card... with a month more to go.

it took a while and there were instances when i was ready to throw in the towel. but apparently, all it takes is one trip to starbucks with your grandmother, uncle, aunt, good friend and driver in tow to finally complete a damn promo card.

-oOo-

oh, btw, calling on vanessa.

i am not an orphan this coming christmas. i have been adopted :)

there's nothing funnier in the world than watching the pinoy big brother "the big night" and realizing that an ex you pined after and the one you loved like crazy actually looks a bit like lito camo.

ok, i'm being kind. a LOT like lito camo.

(in fairness, he was a brilliant person and we had wonderful conversations with each other, but come on, he DOES look a lot like th composer.)

henry sy and therapy

partly due to my laziness and to the red tape that's so prevalent in government offices, i have yet to receive my initial salary from the court of appeals. now, on any given day, this will be so much of a bummer already. but the thing is, it's christmas season and not having money in your wallet just about kills me a little bit each day. add to that the fact that there's a bonus or special allowance almost every other week is just about the worst thing in the universe.

today was our office christmas party. everyone went home with a P4,000 christmas allowance ... except me. THAT would just be the perfect damper to what could've been a really chirpy afternoon.

i am broke, bonus-less, and so in the mood to just sulk, sulk, and sulk some more.

i could've gone home and done just that, and i was tempted to do so. but then i knew that there was something i can do that would make me feel way so much better than hiding under the covers: shop.

i offered my shopping services to an officemate who wanted nothing more than to avoid the malls. so, armed with a christmas list and money to spend that wasn't mine, i attacked SM with a vengeance. i bought clothes, toys, baby stuff, and a bike even, had them wrapped (yes, i was able to get the bike wrapped!), and spend way below the budget that was allotted for the gifts.

by 9:30 (thank god for SMs that close at ten!), i was done.

not only that, i was better.

so thank you, henry sy! your groceries may be overpriced, but your department store just gave me the best four hours of my life.

i'm beginning to think i am relationship retarded.

i'm 28, and single.

when i was in college, naive, and in a loving relationship, i thought i'd get married by 25 and have kids by 28. i thought 30 was so old, and i though that i'd have the world at my feet by 40. 50 seemed so old, and a six-year age gap was something i knew would make my friends' eyebrows rise.

goodness. if i can talk to my 21 year old self, i'd probably whack her in the head for not knowing anything worth knowing.

28, and i don't think i can give up my crazy lifestyle which involves eating take out most of the time.

28, and still living in my parents' house and heavily in debt because of my almost three-year-old car.

28, and unable to commit to a relationship long enough to see it through the good times and the bad.

28, and unable to imaging myself having kids and sending them to school, and staying up all night to feed them.

see. there is a reason why i am single.

and now i know.

Ghostwriter, bobbing
I told her that I plan to sue Henry Sy and his minions for making a shopaholic out of her.

She, the would-be plaintiff, and probably a hostile one (there's no such hostile plaintiff, is there?), laughed at the idea.

If there were landmark cases of people suing monolith tobacco companies for causing the death of lung cancer-stricken loved ones, why not one for making her close to penniless most of the time?

And if we win the civil case, I would donate half the proceeds to Tahanang Walang Hagdan just to piss her off. Go figure.

Blame it on the strategically planned mallwide sales in SM that paralyze not only traffic in EDSA, but also her aged sense of reason. SM's events bastardize her concept of moderation and push her to think that she needs more shoes, bags and days to worry because she's broke again.

For a while I was happy being educated that a flat isn't only a place of residence, that pumps are not only associated with mechanical things, and that camel isn't only an animal that spits. But when even casual story-telling was often interrupted by name-dropping Blahnik and Choos, I knew it was getting out of hand.

To tell her that shoe collection is neither a contest nor a career requires the rolling up of my sleeves. She will argue, like she has been cockily trained to do in Malcolm. She will only allow me to block her defense thrice. After that, she will let out a curt, "I hate you."

But let this be a light bulb in our friendship that has contended with time difference.

Today, I braved the snow fall and drew your name on the ground. Just when you think your other friends and exes have done it all to surprise you, give me a lil credit for this single act of childishness.



I bet no one has ever done that... yet.

* * *
ROX: What are you doing online? Shouldn't you be in the gym?
ME: Am watching free toons. =)
ROX: Ahahaha. You're cute. Do you want to chat?
ME: Ahm. Hmm... sleep na.
ROX: Are you sure? Funny I can't open both eyes at the same time. Masyadong maliwanag.
ME: Ahm. I'm reconsidering the trip to the gym because the flurries are here.
ROX: Stay at home.
ME: I love flurries. I open my mouth and they just fall right in.
ROX: Ahahaha. That's cute. Very cute.

Yesterday I told her that I plan to subscribe to Giant Magazine. I picked up its November issue while I was at the Saturn dealer, where my car had a scheduled change oil. And I fell in love with its wit and humor. Giant also has tame FHM-material pics, so I can just leave it anywhere when my parents come over to visit.

Just when I thought she would approve of it, she uttered something totally unexpected. I wasn't even able to dodge.

"Wala ka nang balak umuwi, 'no?" she asked. Sadly.

I was speechless so I made a director's exit. (READ: When a crucial ad lib can't be found, cue in a commercial.)

i am slowly morphing into your typical government employee.

i still wake up every day at 6 am but i hardly get out of bed until a little after 7. and when i finally make it out of bed, shower, dress up, and put my face on (see, UH! it's now part of the routine!!), it's almost 8. and given that the waiting time for an fx is horrendous, and that on wednesdays the traffic is just so goddarn awful, i barely have ten minutes to settle down before my boss arrives and assess who's there and who's not.

sometimes, i'm one of those who's not yet there. tragic, i know.

when i get there, having expended all my energy flagging down fx after fx and walking in heels from the corner of kalaw to my third floor office, i am often hungry, a bit tired, and would want nothing more than to scarf down bag after tiny bag of my happy barbecue peanuts and a cold can of diet sarsi.

which, more often than not, i do.

all too soon it's lunch time, then before we know it it's time to go home, and the office is silent, and i am left with the option of locking up and going home or staying and finally morph back into the same workaholic girl i was when i first came in.

and when i do, i give myself a tiny pat on the back, and thank that somehow, there's still a big part of me that tells me there's hope yet.

because who knows? when i finally turn into a full-fledged government employee, i'd be one of those people who commute in their good shoes while wearing scruffy slippers the entire day.

... with rollers in their hair.