A DAY IN THE LIFE

Most of us have this habit of cussing. It really doesn’t matter if we’re pissed off or in high spirits, and yes, even when we’re engrossed in admiration — we cuss. It has become a part of our culture and it’s so difficult to remove it in our daily (and ordinary) conversations and expressions. I just find it amusing that whenever I am with my son, it seems that my mouth filters everything that I’m going to say. Even when we’re bobbing our heads to the music of Eminem, Greyhoundz or even Parokya Ni Edgar, I omit the cuss words almost unconciously. There was only one instance I remember saying the "S" word in front of him (I believe he was just five then). We were on our way to a pool party in Pansol that night and I was looking for a store where we can buy bottled water in those big plastic containers. I think I was driving a bit faster than the usual (20kph? hehehe) that I didn’t notice the store on our right. My son, who saw the water containers that were displayed, shouted, "Tatay, ayun!" And out of the blue I said, "Shit!" He then turned his head and stared at me. I don’t know where that came from but I told myself that I had to act fast. And so the next few syllables that went out of my mouth sounded like shit-zoo-za-ber-da-ber or something like that. Hahaha! Such a pathetic attempt to cover up my mental lapse. I guess I should have followed it up with "siritsit alibangbang" or "down, sit down, you’re rocking the boat" instead (but I’m sure it still wouldn’t work).

How come it is easier for me not to cuss in front of my son than keeping my mouth shut in front of other people? Maybe it’s because of the fact that he is my son and I have to be very careful with the words that he will hear from me. But there were lots of times when I really should’ve shut myself up and stopped talking in babbles or riddles to other people. And after an ohnosecond, I will realize that once again, I said something stupid.

We all know that John Mayer song that goes, "One more thing, why is it my fault? So maybe I try too hard. But it’s all because of this desire. I just wanna be liked. I just wanna be funny. Looks like the joke’s on me. Call me Captain Backfire."

Yes. I’m never speaking up again starting n…

Everybody dreads reaching the age of thirty— that rite of passage that marks the time that we are nearing expulsion from the Roman Calendar. We usually see it as a confirmation that we are indeed getting old. For most of us, it tells us that time is ticking. Wait, let me rephrase that: It tells us that our time is running out.

It’s funny how we will desperately cling to being twenty-nine until the very last minute. It is the last year of embracing youthful hopes and the first year of resigning to middle age. It doesn’t matter if you’re rich or poor— whether you like it or not, you will get down and thirty. Hehehe.

Okay, getting old is a big deal but it is something inevitable so why make a fuss out of it? We usually tease older people about their age but we are aware that we are also getting old. A case of too-bad-they-got-there-first? Well, a few years from now, today’s little brats will start teasing you, too. Bah! At least I look younger than a lot of those in their early 20s thanks to my oily skin. Hahaha! So what is it about reaching thirty (or getting old in general)? I think it is because of the fact that getting old constantly (and harshly) reminds us of all the should haves, would haves and could haves. The ghost of the past, the bridge that didn’t burn, those skeletons still hanging in the closet— these are the things that hold us back, that make us cling. Let us all admit that if everything in our past turned out the way we wanted it to be then we will have no problem embracing the concept of getting old.

I am turning thirty a few hours from now and I’ve been asking myself the same questions these past few days. Have I done anything that I really wanted in the thirty years that have passed? Did I make more right decisions than the wrong ones? What am I going to do in the next thirty years?

A wise man once said, “Don’t count your years. Make your years count.”

Now if I can just do that… I believe I’ll be stuck at twenty-nine.

Wala akong ganang mag-blog nitong mga nakaraang buwan lalo na ngayon na blackout pa rin sa LB dahil sa bagyo (at hindi rin ako sanay mag-blog sa ibang PC). Minsan na rin lang ako nakakauwi ng San Pablo kaya naman gusto ko din talagang magliwaliw sa bayan. Pero anak ng tokwa, nakakadismaya ang mga pangyayari wala pang isang oras ang nakakalipas. Ako’y adwang-adwa.

Habang pinapa-carwash ko ang sasakyan, naisipan ko munang maglakadlakad sa bayan. Naghanap na rin ako ng internet cafe para magpalipas ng oras. Pagdaan ko sa tapat ng isang beerhouse, may nakita akong isang batang lalake na nasa loob ng isang nakaparadang jeepney at nagulat ako sa aking nasaksihan. Sigurado ako na wala pa siyang sampung taong gulang pero yung rugby na sinisinghot niya sa loob ng hawak niyang bote ay tiyak na nagkakahalaga ng lampas sampung piso. At habang sumisinghot siya ay may mga kalalakihan (wari ko mga tsuper) na abalang-abala sa paghuhuntahan sa tabihan mismo ng jeepney. Hindi ito ang unang pagkakataon na nakakita ako ng nagru-rugby dito sa amin pero hindi ko alam na ganito na pala katalamak ang gawaing ito sa lungsod namin. At tulad nung ginawa ko noong isang taon, nang may nasaksihan akong binata na sumisinghot rin ng rugby sa tabing kalsada, naisipan kung isumbong sa awtoridad ang aking nakita. Wala pang isandaang metro sa kinalalagyan nung batang adik, nakita ko ang barangay hall ng lugar na iyon kaya’t naisipan ko na doon na lang magsumbong. Pagpasok ko ng pinto, may dalawang lalaki, ang isa ay nag-mamakinilya at ang isa nama’y nanonood ng TV. Hindi ko malilimutan ang aming pag-uusap.

Ako: Sir, good afternoon po. May ire-report po kasi ako. May nakita akong bata, sumisinghot ng rugby doon sa kabilang kanto.

Unang Lalaki: Ah, talaga? Saan mo nakita?

Ako: Doon po sa tapat ng Patio, nasa loob siya ng jeep.

Pangalawang Lalaki: (Tumingin nang saglit sa akin tapos nanood uli ng TV)

Unang Lalaki: Naku, yung mga ganoon eh pinapabayaan na lang kasi kapag dinampot naman nang pulis eh pakakawalan rin naman. Wala rin kasing pagdadalhan ang mga yun.

Ako: Ganoon po ba? Nagulat po kasi ako dahil minsan lang akong umuwi dito sa atin tapos talamak na po pala dito ang rugby tapos sobrang bata pa po nila. Mahirap din naman po kasi kung pababayaan na lang natin. Malay po natin, baka paglaki nila sila ang papatay sa atin.

Pangalawang Lalaki: (Tumingin uli sa akin at mukhang nainis sa hirit ko tapos nanood uli siya ng TV)

Unang Lalaki: Oo nga, eh. Wag kang mag-alala at gagawan namin ng paraan.

Ako: Sige po, sir. Salamat po.

Napailing na lang ako paglabas ko ng barangay hall. Hindi ako mabuting mamamayan pero anak ng puta, mga opisyal sila ng barangay tapos parang hindi ganoon kaseryoso ang sitwasyon. Dapat malaman ito sa city hall, ng mga konsehal, ng mayor. Pero pupusta ako na alam na nila itong problemang ito at may mga nauna nang nagreklamo sa akin.

Hindi ko alam kung sino ang bangag: ang bata na nakita kong sumisinghot ng rugby o ang mga opisyal ng barangay at city hall?

Aba, wag na wag silang magugulat kung isang araw ay mabalitaan nila na ang isa sa mga anak nila ay nasaksak o nabaril ng isang adik.