Firefly In July

The other day, I did something unintentional that alienated me from one that had been a silent observer of my domestic life for almost a decade.  The loss did not sink in instantly… it was later in the day, when it was becoming obviously uncomfortable that I began to feel the burden of the absence.  It was tough.  I could not sleep, even when I had something better to take its place, it was not the more practical choice.

It all started when I noticed its dreadful state early in the morning.  I had been willingly surrendering to languidity over the past few weeks, ignoring the slightest urge to give it just a bit of attention.   I’m guilty of being lazy.  That fateful day, it was hard to turn a blind eye any longer and so I decided, it was time to stretch these muscles and give our electric fan some tender loving care.  I swear, my intentions were good.  I was making up for all the times that I allowed it to waste away in dirt.  But then, the pampering turned out to be damaging…. all those years of prolonged inconsideration had made me unfamiliar of its weaknesses and in one  resounding snap , one of the blades cracked, broke, and detached from the rest of the big part.  I destroyed it!  My immediate thought was to put it back together with a strong adhesive, but the realization that its a useless attempt dawned when Mark explained I cant fix a fast spinning blade that way.  The broken piece may still fly off and hit me in the face.  Good point.  So, its gone.

I will miss our old electric fan, its low humming that lulled me to sleep, its uncomplaining labor even when forced to function the entire day.  It never failed to keep me company and comfortable amidst the tropic heat.

I know, this is absurd.  Holding a connection with a home appliance.  But 10 yrs is 10 yrs.  It may just be a thing, but when I look at its broken blade, I cant help but remember, it was here when Mark and I were just starting our lives together.  No, I wont be building a pedestal or a scupture, but definitely it will stay a bit longer even in its unfunctioning state.

It’s incredibly hot!  A few weeks back, the rain started pouring like there’s no tomorrow, low pressure and storms one after another flooded the streets and the weather forecast had everyone convinced that summer was over.  But lo and behold,  summer returned with a vengeance.

I ran some errands this morning and at nine, I expected the heat to be tolerable… it was, I thought, the perfect time to go out.  A few minutes outside and I was already sweating my face powder off… I should have never underestimated the power of the heavenly ball of fire.  Being on nightshift for the longest time, the sweaty situation coupled with the early morning traffic had become a distant reality.  Finding myself, once again, in the middle of it all  left me reeling and breathless and wondered how all these people walking along the long stretch of the avenue can still appear unaffected.

Thankfully, I didn’t have to parade outside all morning and the building that was my destination provided temporary relief from the scourge.  Had I stayed longer outside, my hair could have caught fire and dried up what remained of my boiling brain.

Times have changed definitely.   Summer heat and monsoon rains alternating like a revolving door.  I wonder what will come next.. the entire metropolis transforming into a barren desert or submerged under a murky lagoon.  I dont know if I’ll ever be prepared.

I had fond childhood memories of the Holy Week.    What I remember  clearly were the afternoon  church services with my grandma and cousins.   There were also a few weird rules that we had to follow:  in those days, gloomy attires were the fad and noise of any kind were strictly prohibited… we talked in whispers and never at the earshot of my grandma, lest we’d be called “hudyo”.  Bathing on Good Friday was regarded a mortal offense when the entire Christian community was believed to be under the saviour’s blood.  But Easter Sunday was a major celebration!  We prepared lots of suman and cooked  different dishes fit for a wedding party.  But those were the good old days…

Now that I’m all grown up and working in the big city, it is hard to observe those traditions.  In fact,  the holy week is not officially recognized as a non-working holiday for US based companies so we are stuck in the office doing our normal stuff.  So when my friends from the Cash group suggested a Visita Iglesia, I didnt think twice of joining.

We left at around 9 in the morning, right after our graveyard shift.   The sun was up and already expanding its scathing heat over the land, sketching the perfect backdrop for a Good Friday penitence!

First stop was the Sacred Heart Church.  It was just a short distance from the office and the five of us – Me, Kiko, Phen, Hazel, Ryan – walked under the blazing heat,  made it to the church all sweaty and panting, but undeterred.  We said our prayers on two stations of the cross and since our next church   is  much father away, we decided to take the cab this time.

We stopped at Manila Cathedral then San Agustin.  These ancient churches both situated in Intramuros,  had the effect of taking you back to the Spanish colonial era.  The only reminder of the present time were the vendors lining the walkways and, of course, we did not pass the opportunity of sampling the sumptuous local delicacies – kakanin of different kinds, squid balls, pancit, and grilled corn – and silenced the nagging hunger that we’ve been suppressing all morning.

We proceeded to Quiapo church, but the thick crowd made it impossible to even get near it.   We did not insist on even trying… the scene is pretty dangerous for nightshifters fighting off sleep and, at that point, thirst and sweat.

Kiko lead us out of the throng along with what seemed like secret passages and before we knew it, we were standing next to the one and only all-steel basilica in Asia – The San Sebastian Church.  I used to come here often when I was starting off as a young professional and some of my most fervent prayers then were said here. I am thankful for the reunion, no matter how brief.

Next was San Beda Church.  The instant I walked it, my jaw dropped.  How can I not have visited this church before?  It is not as big as the cathedral but the beautifully painted murals just took my breath away.  I wish I can come back here soon and tag along Mark with me.

(sorry for the blurry photo, it does not do the church any justice)

The last stop was the Archdiocese of St.  Jude.  Again, one of the churches that brings back nostalgic memories.  I used to attend the Thursday novena here, but since moving to Makati, I had not made it back until this visita.

For posterity’s sake, we took pictures in each church that we visitied.  Our small share of sacrifice overshadowed the call of thirst, exhaustion, and sleep.  Our observance of the holy week did not embrace the old rules of gloomy clothes, all-day silence, or non-bathing but it was one that left a mark and inspired us to do it all again next year.

I can feel the pulsating presence of summer…. its so freaking hot!!!!

I went out last Friday afternoon to meet up with some friends at the office.  Since it’s only a short distance from our house, I decided to just take a cab, and which, on that day…. turned out to be a very bad idea.  I cant understand why of all days, all cabs seemed to have conspired to avoid passing by our street.  Not a single cab in sight!  As I stood there in the street, baking under the afternoon sun, I felt my poor brain melting in its hollowed shell.  Each minute that lapsed meant a thousand brain cells disintegrating in the extreme heat.  Unable to stand it any longer, I boarded the next jeepney that came along.  By that time, I was already a tanned moron and my armpits were drenched in perspiration.  What a harsh reminder how severe and unforgiving the summer heat can get!  Months on nightshift,  sleeping the afternoons away with the A/C on, have made me forget that.

Today is no exception.  We went for our routine weekly walks at Esplanade and though the long expanse is situated next to the Manila Bay, it did little to lessen the scourging heat.   The only relief is the occasional sea-scented wind, sweeping across the grounds and lightly drying our sweat soaked shirts.

Here I am, changed to the spare shirt, looking haggard and exhausted.  Summer is the time when this part of the world turns into a large frying pan, everyone gets toasted and that’s just the way it is…  Hopefully in my case, it wont be beyond my wits.

Mark and I were snooping around for camera sale when we noticed this posting prominently displayed in a store’s window.

See the new price for the IXUS 85IS?  I dont know of anyone who would prefer the price increase… not a good way to entice customers, huh.   It is likely that it’s just a typo error but obviously, nobody double checked.  We are going to the mall later today… just for curiosity’s sake, maybe I’ll drop by the store and see if the ad’s still there, unchanged and unnoticed.

It’s Valentines! The perfect opportunity for hopeless romantics to wear their hearts on their sleeves. It’s that time of the year when chocolate and flower shops profit the most, when dinners for two are the popular reservations, when red suddenly becomes the symbol of love rather than war, when the air is filled with the melody of songs on endless devotion…. when mushy is absolutely not synonymous with corny.

There are several gimmiks even in the workplace to celebrate and enjoy the occasion. One of which is this fashion proposal from a teammate, driving us all to reconsider our outfit’s color for tonight’s shift:

***

Sent: Thursday, February 12, 2009 9:47 AM

Subject: FW: February 13

Importance: Low

Let’s make a statement tomorrow, wink, wink.. advance happy vday! =)

February 13, before Valentine’s day, come to work wearing your heart on your sleeve…

Wear GRAY if you are NOT INTERESTED IN RELATIONSHIPS/COMMITMENTS

Wear RED if you are COMMITED AND HAPPY

Wear BROWN if you are COMMITTED BUT YOU WANT OUT

Wear BLUE if you are IN LOVE WITH YOUR FRIEND/LIKE SOMEONE IN THE OFFICE

Wear YELLOW if you are DATING/INLOVE BUT NOT IN A RELATIONSHIP

Wear GREEN if you are in a 3RD PARTY RELATIONSHIP

Wear BLACK if you are BROKENHEARTED

Wear STRIPES if you have MORE THAN ONE RELATIONSHIP

Wear PINK if you are in SAME SEX RELATIONSHIP

Wear ORANGE if you DIDN’T HAVE ANY RELATIONSHIP SINCE BIRTH

***

Already there are complaints from those who are still feverishly searching for their elusive special someone that there is no color choice for their status.    We’re just leaving that to their imagination.  As for me, I’ll be wearing a white shirt…. with a bright red scarf.  Hehehe.

I worked two weeks straight, yes… Saturdays and Sundays included.  Too much work, too little sleep and its driving me nuts.  This weekend is a short interval of rest before we start another closing process next week and a chance to squeeze in a little RnR, writing a post included.

This morning I attended my teammate’s son’s baptism in Biñan, Laguna.  The traffic was in full cooperation and we, Liezl – another teammate – and I,  got to the reception on time.  There we got to mingle with a few of the high ranking police officers who, surprisingly are young and without the unwanted stomach bulge that typical policemen have come to be notorious for.  They are not the usual officers who patrol the city and catch petty offenders but rather, lead some of the most distinguished units in the law enforcement body.  You might wonder how they happen to be there…. my teammate’s husband is among these officers, a true gentleman and obviously a loving husband and father.  He even graciously took us to the bus station when we finally decided to leave the festivities.

While we were on our way, we got nosy and asked alot of questions about his work and of course,  how he and his wife met (in short, chismis).  The conversation rounded down to one of his close encounters with death while pursuing a group of NPA’s.   He got shot with 4 bullets into the stomach, and at that time, they were just three months into their marriage.  I could just imagine the terror my teammate felt when she received the news.  Just married and so close to widowhood!  Terrifying.

Suddenly, my own past flashed back in an instant.  I knew an officer who’s passing caused an almost unbearable pain.  I cant quite remember how I got passed that but it was hard and it took a long time.

Our new found police officer friend said, that he constantly reminds his wife, to be always ready.  That anytime, a life can easily be taken away.  That’s a tough reality hanging above the heads of those whose vocation leans towards the dangerous kind.  When Joe Black beckons, we cannot do anything but heed.

Before the conversation turned morbid, he invited us to a shooting class and promised to arrange a session for us.   Im so looking forward it even now! It’s always been my wicked, secret dream to become a sniper… I dont know what I’ll do with that, but it may come handy someday.  Who knows.

Tags: Police, Shooting

Eversince Mark got his  reverse macro lens, he had been scouring for bugs, beetles, worms, ants, and all tiny crawling creatures he can point his camera at.

The reverse macro kit is a cheap alternative to the real thing.  Although the photos are not as vivid and detailed, it can capture the essential characteristics of the subject in fairly good quality.  For instance, Mark took this photo of a common spider during our holiday vacation in Baguio.  Ordinarily, I will not give this spider a second look, much less consider it dangerous due to its diminutive size. That changed after coming face to face with its magnified image.

The camera was set up real close to get that shot, yup, in your face little spider! It’s spiky weapons seemingly ready to attack for this privacy intrusion, unaware that its mere portrait can send shivers down the onlooker’s spine.

Here’s how close the photo shoot was:

There’s another spider portrait but it isn’t as menacing as the first.  In fact, it looks rather cute.  The tiny brown crawler has an uncanny resemblance to a sand burrowing crablet.

Mark has more bugsy photos (you can check them out in his Flickr account @ http://www.flickr.com/photos/zymo4) but these spider shots struck me the most.  It altered the way I look at them forever.  Creepy!

Baguio City is not only known for pine trees and strawberries but also for the abundance of ornamental plants that grow best in its cool climate.   While passing by Kisad Road, Mark and I decided to drop by the Orchidarium and check out the flowers in full bloom for the season.

We were so captivated by the variety of colors but what we saw does not even qualify as a sneak peak for the annual flower fest.  That will be happening around February and certainly, it will be one mesmerizing, glamourous parade of flowers in their stunning bloom.

Tags: Baguio City, Flowers

You can never be too careful with pets.  At this very instant, I am typing with a bandaged index finger, sore arms and legs.  That’s all because of this cute, cuddly, and seemingly well-behaved little doggie named Wilson.

It has been our routine to take Wilson for his weekly walks to MOA (Mall of Asia) and this evening we decided to park near the newly opened  section of the bay area or more popularly known as Esplanade. Most of the restaurants have not opened business yet so the only crowd were two pairs of lovers getting intimately cozy in the semi-darkness.   The place suited us perfectly… no kids or big dogs and we’re free to roam around without interruptions.

A few minutes and a panting-dog later, we decided to move to the San Miguel View By The Bay to get a photo of the newly erected Christmas Tree.  Mark suggested that I walk Wilson on the way there while he transfers the car to the nearest parking.  While walking, Wilson saw a group of kids eating their dinner by the side of their car.  Being the food fan that he is, he darted to their direction with all his might and dragged on his leash.  And that’s when it happened… I was restraining him when I stepped on a stone, lost my balance and landed heavily on my two hands like a frog, my fingers scratching the hard cement surface and peeling off the skin on my index.  I could not get up immediately, it was a pretty bad fall and I guess I was stunned.  A little dog dragging his master on her knees… what a sight.  The strap on my right sandal snapped and worse, I had to walk three blocks more and look for Mark.  With blood trickling down my finger, bruised palms, and disheveled hair, I slowly proceeded, pretended that nothing’s wrong and still tried to smile at the people who ogled in amusement at our willful dog.

I found Mark all excited to take pictures but I was no longer in the mood.  I was mad at Wilson, mad at myself for falling, mad for having to walk with the torn sandal.  Finally I wasn’t able to hold it in any longer and tears spilled out.  Then realizing that a small dog caused all this mess, Mark and I looked at each other and laughed.  Crazy.  That ended what could have been a fun night of strolling and taking photos.