Just Passing By

Boo!

Happy Halloween! I write this with my borrowed Geisha costume complete with white make up and red lipstick. I dare not smile too much or my face will crack.

When I dropped Nikki off to school today, she suggested I drop her a ways off where no one from her class would see me. I'm flabbergasted (there goes another fun word!). My daughter is embarrassed of me! I'm embarrassed myself so I kept my eyes on the road all the way to work, afraid of the reaction from the other early morning motorists. When I saw a guy or gal in front of me in this hideous red wig, I knew I was in good company.

It was a different story when I arrived at the office. You'd think you came to a carnival of some sorts. My neighbor to my left came in as a Jane Fonda in her warmers in the 80s when aerobics was stylish. Across the hall from me is Karate Kid and the other a Harley lady-rider looking intimidating with her leathers. We have Dorothy from the Wizard of Oz as a receptionist, loooove her red glittery shoes! Someone came in as a wrestler diva. She had boa feathers and a large hat for effect. But my favorite this year is on the other side of the building. She came in as Princess Fiona with the green face and tiny ears on top of her head. Mind you, she didn't even need a body suit to fill up her gown. I kinda looked past her half-expecting to see Shrek behind her.

It's almost noon and I don't think anyone has ever done any serious work so far. People mill about checking out each other's costumes. We'll have a pizza party at lunch and we'll take a group picture to record how silly we all looked today.  It's nice to be a child and silly again, if only for Halloween.**Sigh** Now let me hunt me some nice choco treats.

Sepia

I was horrified to see our high school class picture on Friendster. Good thing it was too small for anyone to make out who is who. Still, I swear the teased bangs of the 80s is the worst fashion trend ever! I remember entering the ladies room with girls lined up in front of the mirror trying to coax their bangs to "stand up" into a wave worthy of a champ surfer's dream. Then goes half a can of hair spray - preferably the extra hold to keep the bangs in place. I forgot what the brand was but there was one particular brand that was popular with the girls that time. Anyway, it didn't matter whether we were in uniforms, PE shirts and shorts or "outside dress." The bangs always stayed.

And look how slim we all were, our shirts hanging by our shoulder blades as if a hanger was still there. Most of the boys showed shadows of a mustache and tried their damnedest to pose for the camera in their best macho, I'm-a-grown-up-now stance. I can still see all of us clearly like it were only yesterday. Jeanne (Salunga), who called me from her home in Canada last week, and I agreed that nothing ever changed from almost 20 years ago.  She even told me I still talked the same and still had that same distinctive laugh - which I'm not sure what that sounded. She sounded a little different though. Her voice is more modulated and no longer childishly shrilly. She was also out of breath for being 8 months preggy. We talked about old friends and reminded each other of the real names of AUF people we rediscovered in Friendster.

The class photo is yellowed, suggesting that years have passed since that moment in the Quadrangle when we were gathered for posterity. We eagerly waited to receive our copies and when we did weeks later, we ooohed and ahhhed at how pretty and handsome we looked, and how secretly happy we all were now that we a have a photo of our crushes to have and to hold into the night. (To my kids  - no we didn't have digicams then but our photos were already processed in color. And no, the sepia effect is natural, not photo-shopped :P)

Twenty years and twenty pounds later - I look back at my high school days with such fond memories. And yes, my mental pictures are still in vivid color and not sepia. I think a reunion is in order here for Venus Class of 88. Who's with me?

Oh and as I was finishing this up - I remembered the hairspray brand - it was Spray Net ...  or is it?

Homecoming 3

I swear, this will be my last post about my homecoming. It's been a month and a half since we got back here and the details of the trip are starting to fade a little. If not for the pictures, I would even think it was a dream. I waited for that trip for so long and it came and went by so fast that I almost wished time stood still on the day we were supposed to fly. That way, it means we would still be bursting at the seams with excitement and pleasurable anticipation. But note, the keyword there is almost. I almost wished, but I didn't.

If I hadn't gone yet, I wouldn't have seen and hugged my friends. There's my BFF, Joey, and childhood best friend, Nori. I met with my old co-workers in Holy Angel and my Kapampangan Center team mates who even threw a party for me. Had I not gone yet, I wouldn't realize how rich I was with friends who still love me and people who were glad to see me.  My husband was amazed at how many people I know. Everywhere we went I was sure to bump into someone I knew from some time before. Angeles City is not that small but I guess I've been around a lot before and mingled with so many that it was hard not to be recognized. I ran into my old students and previous co-workers at the mall or at the coffee shops; ex-bosses at bars and hotel lobbies, that it was too scary to go out without making sure I looked decent. There were days when I had marathon dates, starting with breakfast, and on to late evening parties. What I'm most amazed at is the fact that they greeted and welcomed me with so much sincerity and they treated me like I never left, like nothing changed. This is the Filipino hospitality at its finest.

The only downside to this is the fact that I was getting text messages every few minutes and it was hard to keep up. I haven't had much practice text messaging here in the US that hearing my phone beep every so often discombobulated me. (Don't you like that word? It's my word of the week!) And my text friends respond so fast, I was in a lot of pressure to text faster. Whew! At first I just called them but I soon realized that I spent so much reloading my credits that I had no choice but to text, lest I use up all my pocket money on pre-paid cards.

Anyway, it's started to snow as I write this. It's the first snow of the season. The weathermen say it's the earliest we've had it in 25 years. To me there is another perspective to this: it just made it clearer that I am in a time and place so far removed from Pinas, from family and friends. I can't wait to go home again. And hopefully, when I do, I won't have to leave again.

Solitude

I found this nice little park tucked in a gated neighborhood near my office. So today at lunch, I decided to go there and enjoy this balmy autumn day. I didn't have my walking shoes with me so I brought my sandwich (that was all I was having for lunch) and another Fulghum book I bought over the weekend. I was looking forward to lunch when I planned to sit down and just be.

When I got there, there was no one else in the park. I guess the chilly weather discouraged most. I saw a lone jogger who passed through but for the most part, I was the only living soul in the park and it was blissful. There was a panoramic view of the Sierra, the higher elevations sporting white caps of snow. The trees are beautiful as they have just started to change color. There is a sudden burst of yellows, deep reds and purples. This is my absolute favorite time of the year before the leaves fall off and old man winter takes over.

The solitude doesn't bother me anymore. When I first came here, I felt very lonely when I didn't have anyone to take lunches with or if I were by myself to do stuff like shopping or getting haircuts. But now, I realize that being alone doesn't mean lonely. These moments of "aloneness" are precious times that I give myself - when I don't have to be forced to listen to other peoples' problems and gripes. It seems that I get those a lot lately, especially from work. For some reason - my office mates think that they have bigger problems or their lives are more colorful and more dramatic than anyone else. In the office kitchen, or when they drop by my cube, or when we go out for our smoke breaks ( we power walk instead of smoke) - they dominate the whole conversation. Whatever the reason, they like talking to me because I listen. We Pinoys are better at conversations, I think. We know when to talk and when to listen. But now, either I've ceased to care or I've had a gripe overload. In any case, I'm glad of my lunch hour solitudes when I can hear myself think again. Oh yeah -I still talk to myself in Kapampangan, thank goodness! That's one less thing to stress about.