See you around, EJ.

EJ thinks I'm a wimp. He thinks I'm a lot of other things, too. Like a klutz and a weirdo. But he must really think I'm a wimp.

You see, most people don't readily know that EJ is the one person who has seen me cry the most number of times in the office. Not that he was the reason for all those pathetic tears. He's just the person I go to when the waterworks start. Ironically, I hate crying. So I don't do it often. And I hate myself whenever I can't help myself.

EJ is one of the best listeners I've ever met. He claims that he's just nosy and is always ready to hear 'tsismis'. But I know better. No one can fake concern that well. I used to be messed up with a recurring issue in my life and he never, never turned me away whenever I had to rant about it. Sheesh, if I had to listen to myself go on and on, over and over again about that same old thing, I'd have snapped at myself. No, make that - I'd have smacked myself straight in the nose. And unrepentantly left myself bleeding. (Ok, too much violence.)

When my mother got sick and I couldn't concentrate on work, I used to sit on the empty corner desk beside EJ and just bury my head to cry. He wouldn't say a word. Every now and then, he'd just pat my head a few times and go back to his work. When I would finally look up with swollen eyes, he'd ask, "Ok ka na?" I'd nod, thank him, and then go back to my workstation.

I also have a propensity for taking off to take brisk walks in the middle of a workday when I get too upset. Yeah, yeah, I know. Such a drama queen. Or more like, such a macho thing to do. We were jabbing and I just said I need to be not there right now and left. The extensive exposure to my crying probably gave him a built-in radar whenever I have a lachrymal activity because after aimlessly walking, I checked my phone and found a couple of missed calls and messages from EJ. One said, "Where are you? Let me be there to help you." I would find out later that he was worried I was going to be hit by a car while I was crossing the street distressed.

Yeah, that's me. What a wimp.

Another one of the good things I like about being friends with EJ is the fact that we have very similar values. We often agree on what we think is wrong or right, what is unfair or just. Although, I must admit we have very different views on what is funny or not. His humor mostly consists of watching me make a fool of myself - often unintentionally. But behind all those jokes and wisecracks, he has a good heart. He told me once that he should probably start listing down names of the people that he wants to include in his prayers. He feels guilty whenever he forgets someone; there's so many people to pray for.

Today was EJ's last day at the office. As a send-off gift, we gave him an Umbra Fotofalls and the scrapbook I completed at 2 am that morning. He treated a couple of us to Italian food. Afterward, he and I waited for Yza in Starbucks. And when it was time to go home, I cried again to EJ. This time, it was finally his fault.

We'll miss spending every day of the week with you, EJ. But you don't get to rid of us that easily. See you around. ^__^

8,298 Steps

According to my pedometer (thanks Luz and Allen for this gift), I have walked 8,298 steps today so far. This is running a little above my daily average. Part of the reason is that I visited my dad in Pampanga. So that entailed a lot of commuting steps.

Today was actually the first time I've ridden a provincial bus alone here in Manila. The second time I've ridden a bus alone in Manila. The third time I've ridden a bus alone in my life. I sound like I'm expecting to be congratulated or something. It's an achievement of sorts for me, but I am aware how pathetic I sound - no need to rub it in.

It's been almost four years since the last time I have been in Pampanga. I was born and partly raised there. Yeah, yeah - another one of those irrelevant personal information that I inflict upon you all. It was just interesting to see all those old places that were once part of my life. The hospital where I was born. The small bakeshop where we used to buy taisan. The EENT clinic where I had my ear infection treated. The minimart where we buy our school snacks: Gee Cee mamon and Hi-C (May Hi-C pa ba?). Reminiscing galore.

You know what they say about our memories from youth are exaggerated? It's so true. I saw how un-intimidating the intersection which I was so deathly afraid of crossing when I was a kid. How near the parish church was to our old house; I've always thought I needed to bike back then.

Anyway, another part of the reason for the numerous steps is because when I came back and got off EDSA and heard mass at the Shrine, I decided to walk the rest of the way to my apartment. Poor decision - some might perceive because it was slightly raining. But it was Christmas day. Ortigas Center was unreal. I actually like the overcast weather, the drizzle, the empty streets. Too perfect for a walk to pass up.

I got home covered in the rain, sweat, and the grime of NLEX and EDSA. Just keeping in tune with the holidays.

Another Prosaic Christmas Greeting

I hear Christmas carols wafting through the window. There is a choir performing in the multipurpose hall two blocks down the street. They're actually pretty good.

Apart from distant singing outside, it's awfully quiet in here. For tonight, I have consciously done away with the usual background of television and mp3 drone. I'm rereading the book of John and (unsuccessfully) trying to forget that it's Christmas Eve.

Memories of Christmases past give me strength to tide myself through this season, but ironically, they also remind me of everything that is now different in my life. There's a first time for everything, but I'm hoping this is the last time I'll be spending Christmas Eve alone in a studio apartment eating leftover spaghetti and Honey Mustard Piknik for Noche Buena.

To everyone, have a very blessed Christmas. Let's not forget to include in all the festivity the One whose birthday we are actually celebrating.

The Sign of Peace

Halfway through the second reading at mass today, a mother and her preteen son excused themselves and squeezed their way into my pew, where I was occupying the edge. The mother seated herself on my right and I paid her very little mind because I was trying to pay attention to the gospel. Although I did notice that she was somewhat agitated, worriedly looking at something on our left side.

I finally realized the source of her anxiety during the singing of "The Lord's Prayer". I usually don't initiate hand contact with strangers during this part of the mass. I'm thinking that I'd just give them the option of taking my hand or not, depending whether or not they were overly concerned about contracting the influenza virus or something like that. But the mother took my hand casually and addressed someone on my left and said, "Take her hand."

It was then that I noticed a boy, apparently the mother's other son - around eight years old - seated on the floor beside me. He stood up and obediently took my hand and unabashedly sang "Ama Namin" offkey. Oh, it was so endearing. His small hand didn't feel awkward at all and he knew all the words to the song.

When it was over, I whispered to him that we should switch places so he would be beside his mom. He moved over to my seat but hesitatingly said, "Pero andito po yung mga bags namin" - pointing to two backpacks on the floor where he was seated earlier. I told him they wont get lost but he hauled them nevertheless in front of the kneeler. The boys' mother told me that she would just ask her younger son to sit on her lap, I assured her that it won't be necessary and that I'd just stand during the rest of the mass. She quietly said something to the kid, maybe telling him to thank me for giving up my seat, but the kid just looked up at me curiously. I smiled at him but he just blinked back.

When the priest asked the congregation to give the peace sign - the boy immediately turned to look up at me, with both his palms flat against each other and under his chin and very formally gave me a small bow and said, "Peace po."

I actually laughed softly at his gesture. That was worth more than what I gave up for my seat. And it was the first moment that I actually felt the Christmas spirit this year. I've been dreading this season. I still am. A part of me doesn't want it to come. Or I just want it to pass by painlessly quick. Like stripping off a bandage in one quick motion.

But this kid - he reminded me that families are together, looking forward to the traditions. And although I'm never going to have that anymore, I've already had my chance at every joyful thing that Christmas has to offer, especially to the children - decorating the tree, getting presents, being allowed to stay up late, singing offkey to church songs and Christmas carols. And when I get this perspective, I do not feel deprived that it was taken away from me - the complete family and joys of Christmas traditions - but grateful that they were once mine, too.

Peace be with you, kid. Enjoy the holidays.

Paid in Sand

My good friend Jayjay and his girlfriend Rae are in town for the weekend. They arrived from Cebu friday morning. It's been more than a year when I last saw Jayjay. We always keep in touch through Jabber, Multiply, and SMS, but it's different when I personally hear him go on monologue about the latest books he's read or his latest interest like camera tossing or whatever.

Late friday night until 3 am of Saturday morning, I found myself in the company of Jayjay and Gary. We've spent hours talking about nothing and everything. About men and women, gender roles, hammers and screwdrivers, and black swans, and culture, and history, and photography. Even the art of picking up girls.

Conversations turn to almost chauvinistic, but always interesting. I came in a few minutes late for my training. But the newbies were doing their final exercise, so that was ok. In the afternoon, I met up with Jayjay and Rae in Cubao where we browsed through the stalls of Cubao X.

I've discovered Cubao X through Luz. And the first two times I've been there was with her. We lose time going through old books, antiques, curios, and all those 'lived-in' items seemingly covered with not just dust, but almost tangible residual memories of their previous owners. We once remarked to the guy who worked at Heritage how cool his job was - just reading and having access to all these interesting old books and magazines and art. He replied that it is a great job and he will still love it even he gets paid in sand. His exact words.

There are quirky galleries featuring collages and cutouts. Of modern oil paintings. There's also a place where they sell interesting chairs and chandeliers. Jayjay recognized one of the chairs as a world-famous design. I forgot the name, I'll text him to ask. And we were told that it was worth P40,000. Yeah that one previously-owned chair, where you rest your behind. And it's not even ergonomically comfortable. Form over functionality, I've been told. Sheesh.

While browsing through the shelves, Jayjay came upon this book - Time Life Book: The Art of Photography - which featured The Decisive Moment by Henri Cartier-Bresson, the famous photojournalist. He was raving about the photograph featured in the page. I bought the book for him and told him that he should consider it my early Christmas gift. It was well worth it.

And oh, yeah, to end this entry with a funny anecdote. We entered a dimly-lit and tiny cafe. There were sketches of Robert Alejandro for sale at P500 each and other knickknacks. A somewhat elderly guy came down from the second floor stairs, somehow startling Jayjay who excused himself by saying, "Ay, good evening po." I thought Jayjay recognized the guy already, so I just kept grinning back at him. Apparently, he didn't because when we exited he asked why I was so amused. That was Kuya Bodjie of Batibot, I laughingly told him. And both he and Rae chorused, "Oh, so that's why he looked so familiar!" They resolved to have their picture taken with Kuya Bodjie. So we went back in, Jayjay made small talk and asked if it was alright if he'd pose with them. He was nice about it. If Jayjay posts the pic, you guys now know who took it. :)

Mga bata, yan ang kwento ng pagbisita namin sa Cubao X. Hanggang sa susunod... Paalam!