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P.S. Guys I’ll be away for like 3 months or more.  You can email me though if it’s important ( or if you miss me hehe) or leave a message in this entry.  I can still get it through my email address.  I’m really gonna miss blogging…boo-freakin-hoo!

Back where I was…

The day my ex and I decided to end our relationship, the last words I uttered to him was “okay I gotta go”, I stood up and walked away. I heard him calling after me, saying “Verns, please get in touch” and I was like “e-get in touch mo pagmumukha mo!” hehe

I didn’t say the word “goodbye”. I didn’t look back. Basta dere-deretso lang akong naglakad hoping na hindi ako madapa or matapilok. I wanted to cry that time para naman mukhang pelikula (sayang ang moment) but I couldn’t. Sure, it was sad and I was hurting but for some reason there were no tears.

Looking back, I can honestly say that the break-up made me a totally different person. Change is good but if it morphs you into a person that you’re not, then it becomes bad. I gave up on a lot of stuff. I stopped aiming for something. I cared less. I settled for mediocrity. I screwed myself to get over being screwed. I didn’t care if I was doing something wrong. “Bahala na” was my usual retort when my friends ask about my plans. Bad decisions. Decisions that were made out of a broken heart and sort of a broken spirit (children don’t make decisions when you’re emotional…listen to Mama hehe). I learned that something like that can actually break me and for someone who actually thinks she’s tough, that is quite embarrassing to admit. But I never blame my neighbor for the trash in my backyard. I dealt with it…pinanindigan kumbaga.

Out of everything that happened, the thing that suffered the most is my career. I know I should be grateful for all the blessings I received. I know I’m better off compared to a lot of people who don’t even have a job. But I was unhappy with the way things are. I know I can do more. I can be more. Sometimes I even scare myself with thoughts that I’m going dumb.

Keys

Do you remember the attendant who tried to help Jack and Rose when they got trapped in the lower deck of Titanic? You know, the man who tried to open the lock of the dividing door so that the two can get out but because he was so nervous, he dropped the keys and then fled the scene. Then Jack and Rose spent, I think around 30 seconds shouting “don’t go…please…don’t go…please…hey a**hole don’t go!” I wished Jack just dived right there and then and retrieved the keys.

But hey, I don’t blame the attendant. If it was me, there’s a big probability that a similar scenario would have happened…but I’m not talking about me wimping out. Let me explain with a little bit of Titanic role playing.

I am the attendant.

Toe is Rose.

Sngl is Jack.

(note: let’s just say that in this version, Jack and Rose are the best of friends, okay?)

My key holder in the picture holds the key that will unlock the door.

Yeah…with the number of keys in that key holder and the fact that I really have no idea which lock those keys open, I think we all know what’s going to happen to Toe and Sngl because I’ll just give Sngl the key holder and leave the scene too. Well of course, if Sngl is as fast as Leonardo, then maybe he will be able to save Toe. If not, then I’m terribly sorry Toe. You guys are going to drown…*sniff*

“it’s chokee…”

This morning, I was tweaking my cellphone while waiting for our company service to arrive when I noticed a little girl staring at me from a distance. Now if she looked like one of those kids emerging from a cornfield with a purpose of murdering people, all the staring would have been creepy. But she got nice bangs and when I checked, she wasn’t really holding something sharp, so I gave her a smile and returned my attention to my cellphone.

For a second, I forgot all about her until I looked up and saw her standing in front of me. Okay kiddo…I’m not your Mommy.

She just stood there staring so I stared back without saying anything. Who knows, she’ll be intimidated and will leave me alone.

“…chooorre?…kaw choooree”

Great. The kid is speaking Greek.

“No I’m not Choore. Where’s your Mommy?, I asked.

” chooore! chooore!”

Obviously, I was absent when my college professor discussed the subject Baby Talk. The little girl was already stomping her foot, repeatedly saying “choore” that I was already thinking of a story to tell her Mom (wherever she was) if the kid starts bawling in front of me.

“She means “picture” Miss…I think she just want you to take her picture with your phone”. The young woman inside the store apparently heard us and offered an explanation. The little girl, Risa, is her niece.

“Ohhh…choore is picture!”, I laughed and opened the lens of my phone. “Sure Risa!”.

After taking her picture, I showed her the shot. She smiled at me and said, “chokeee…”. Hmmm I think she meant “okay”.

I am Robin Hood…

“What did you buy Kuya?” I asked the driver of our company service when he came back from buying something in front of the elementary school in our village.

Holding a striped plastic bag usually seen in wet markets, he smiled and showed me the contents of the bag. I saw two booklets inside. “It’s for my daughter. She loves to draw and color.”

“Oh…may I see?”

Kuya gave me a shy smile and handed me the plastic bag.

“They’re cheap”.

I smiled at him and answered, “when I was little, I don’t even remember owning a coloring book. But I do remember flipping through the pages of The Philippine Star looking for the Entertainment page. There’s a portion there where you can see Political cartoons and funny comics. They were very small drawings but I use to color them just so I can color. So your daughter is way luckier than me Kuya.”

The first booklet was a coloring book with Mickey and Minnie Mouse on the cover. Well, the truth was, I wasn’t a 100% sure if it was Minnie and Mickey. They did look like Uncle Walt’s favorite cartoon characters except that their skin were painted dark brown instead of black. I allowed myself to smile thinking maybe they were the Filipino version of the two Disney characters.

Merci beaucoup!

Okay…I’m not JK. I don’t have her gift, her fame and her money. I can’t create something HUGE like Harry Potter. I can’t come up with book titles like The Prisoner of Azkaban or The Order of the Phoenix or characters like Moaning Myrtle and Luna Lovegood or a tree like the Whomping Willow. And of course I can’t make a character as hot as Snape (who by the way is my favorite HP character) even if he wears a robe. I mean look at Obi-Wan Kenobi (I think his earth name is Ewan McGregor)…he looks splendid wearing a bathrobe.

My point is I’m just Verns…owner of this blog. Well kinda…I mean I blog here but if WP wants to delete all my entries or mess with my widgets like changing “living a simple life” to “living a sinful life” (nice one Anna!), they can actually do that (but they won’t because WP people are cool people)…so yeah, maybe I’m not really the owner of this blog. I’m just Verns. I can’t even come up with an original title for this entry. I have to research the internet and search the translation of “thank you very much” in French to be sure I won’t misspell it because I misspell a llllloooootttttt of names and words alllllllll the time.

But I guess even if I’m just Verns…I think there is one thing I have in common with JK and that is being grateful to be able to write.