I'm at my rope's end. I'm about to give up! My prayer for "conversion of x-men" nor my plan to "join their club" doesn't seem to be working (or maybe i'm being too rash about it).
It may be recalled that I had prayed...nay, begged for the "conversion of a certain x-man" out of "panghihnayang". When that didn't work, I decided, albeit temporarily, to join their club. It didn't work out either. It felt funny saying "Ano ba itech?" or "San ka ba fly, girlalu?" or "It's about time para chumerva" or "Ang exciting ng mga eksena sa aking lyf ever...promise!"
It's exhausting! Sa true! Di ko keri!
It would be a regretful state of affairs, however, if such "papableness" is not spread across generations. In Tagalog, "Sayang ang lahi!" (let me clarify...his lahi, not mine). So, now that push has come to shove, I've decided to raise yet another plea...I'm praying that, barring any injuries whatsoever, my x-man be hit with amnesia - only where his...uhh, preference is concerned, though! Wouldn't it just be grand if, one day, he woke up, did his morning stretches, pounded on his chest and said, "Aaaaa-haaa, aahahahahahaaaa! Me Tarzan, you Jane"
Ngyeee!
Will amnesia even work? I wonder.
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
the auditorium...hoooo!
It was a Friday, the last PABOLASTIK day. I had just won 2nd place at the 4K Fun Run sponsored by NPC (I just had to say it ;-P) . My energy was up and nothing was going to get me down. I went to Stella early to help out Weng when and where needed. I was a tremendous help as I ended up fanning her up to cool her down while she calls out and juts down “Class 4-Masigasig - Papel, 2 kilos; rejects, .3, plastik, 4.2…”
Pia, Criscini and Josephine along with her husband Flor (I’m pretty sure it’s short for Florencio or Florentino and not Flora) came a bit later at the Grade School Building where Weng and I were “working”. They were supposed to explore and take photos of the different areas of the building as part of the AVP for the homecoming celeb. I wanted to go “sightseeing” so I went along with them. Main stop, I was told, was the auditorium. Scary and exciting!
As we started our tour, I was excited to go around and see what has become of our grade school home. We visited the clinic and saw that they still had rattan folding beds to lay patients on. The dental chair looked pretty much the same one used while we were in grade school. It was probably as old as us! Amazing!
Next stop was the library at the end of the hall. The door was open but there was nobody in. We looked around and the library was quiet and everything was neatly arranged in place. We went further in and found the door leading to the backstage. The knob was unlocked. We opened the door and found the backroom dark. I put on a brave front and went in and climbed the stairs thinking they’d follow suit and be right behind me. I looked back and they were just peeking through the opening of the door waiting for God-knows-what to happen. I stayed at the top of the stairway while Criscini tried to get a picture of the backstage (or least the steps leading to it). The light of the camera flash went on but the camera won’t budge…it won’t take pictures! Criscini’s camera never acted up like that before! We finally found the light switch and Criscini’s camera finally worked. Big sigh!
Off we went to look at the kindergarten rooms. Back then, our rooms were located at the ground floor of the high school building. Now, they’re not just situated where they’re supposed to be but they’re also air-conditioned. Wow! Ang daya!
Off we went to our main stop…the dreaded auditorium. We all were trying to brave it out as we entered the room. Then we were transported back in time as we recalled those days of singing and dance contests, of spelling bees and skits, of oration contests and other such activities. Somehow, I remember the auditorium to be bigger. I guess I was just smaller then and the place seemed gigantic to me at that time. I focused on those fond memories to keep me from freezing with fear as we went all the way in.
Three Grade 3 boys came in with us. To them, going in the dark, big room was exciting. I guess it was! They certainly made enough noise to keep us distracted. But little boys can have such big imaginations. One boy said he saw something move at the backstage. I wanted to Gibbs-slap him at the back of his head to make him stop! We told them what adults always tell children about ghosts and white ladies - that it was all just their imagination. In short, we told them a big fat lie!
Criscini took a lot of pictures of the place from all angles. We posed with the kids and made short talk with them. But the kids soon got bored with us and left us to ourselves. More “kodakan” went down as we took centerstage and danced, took our bows and shared more of our thoughts and recollections of all we did in that place. We were no longer scared….until Criscini’s camera acted up once again and refused to take one last photo. As we hurried out of the place, Criscini, Pia and Josephine shrieked in fear, “Aaaaah!” I looked back to see and ask what the commotion was all about.
“Whaaat?!? You didn’t hear that?” they all gushed. “Heard what ?“ I asked in fear and wonder. “There was this loud clanging sound that seemed to come from somewhere in the auditorium!” they were all saying excitedly at the same time.
Suddenly, out of nowhere , we heard this tiny voice say, “Ay sorry po! Kami po yun! Nahulog po kasi yung isa naming kasama sa upuan e!” We looked up at the top of the third floor stairs and saw the three Grade 3 boys looking down sheepishly at us.
Look who has a big imagination! Big sigh and a big smile! Haaay!
Sunday, September 19, 2010
D' Wonder Gels of Batch '85
Breathe in, breathe out, wax on, wax off! I’ve been chanting this mantra for sometime now, what with the load of work I have to finish. I can’t seem to get anything done. It’s overwhelming!
But then I go to the meetings and dance and song practices and I see the homecoming committee heads come in carrying bagful of stuff they’ve worked on or are working on for the upcoming celeb. I hear of talks of going to bed at 4:30 a.m. after working on the souvenir mag or sorting through pics or going through articles or other such stuff the batch would need for the grand alumni homecoming. All these over and above their office work, the clients that need attending to, the kids’ needs to be seen to.
It’s then I realize that my load is peanuts compared to the work the committee’s on. I also realize I’m surrounded by Batch 85’s own D’ Wonder Girls. Why are they Wonder Girls, you ask? Let me tell you.
Atty. Kristy. She’s all over the SMC place. Oh, excuse me…she’s all over the Metro. She’s off running around meeting printers, SMC nuns and teachers and alumni officers, photographers, potential sponsors, lights and sounds people, souvenir companies… the list goes on! She writes. She edits. She plans. Brings home people. Conceived PABOLASTIK. Incorporated Batch ’85. She also bears the brunt of complaints and protests and grumbles and objections. And yet you never see her without a smile. Shake that booty, girl!
Pia. She’s not just all over the place, she’ all over the phones, e-mails, FB and what have you. She’s our own private Idaho…este, detective I mean. She’s tirelessly looked for “missing” batch mates and is relentless in her pursuit to bring them all in and have them join in the fun. As co-chair, she meets people here and there and everywhere to work on the mag, on pics, accounts, registration, info updates, etc. She’s also been everywhere in the junk truck picking up…yes, you guessed it –junk. She’s generously offered Pia’s Pride to bring in food and stuff as well as drive people home and around.
Mela. The techie of the group. The cool and silent worker. She accepts work with a smile and silently does them without so much brouhaha. She’s worked with the web site developers and SMC web site committee for the design of our very own school web site. She’s kept account of the batch funds. Came up with the stage backdrop design and shirt designs. She’s actually used her leave credits to devote her Fridays on working on the PABOLASTIK drive.
Weng. She’s funny.
You thought that was it about Weng, didn’t you? Of course not! She brings in so much laughter she makes work fun. And what would PABOLASTIK be without her and her DUGYOTISTIC reports? Who’d have thought that working with junk could be enjoyable! She works just as hard as she does in making people laugh.
Mercy. Her decision to take a sabbatical from work is a blessing in disguise…a blessing for Batch ’85, that is. She’s created amazing songs and write-ups. Inspired Stellans, young and old, with her song and talk on how Stella shaped her (all of us really).
Atty. Ruth. She’s provided/referred our talented and patient choreographer, Tin, as well as our vocal coach and arranger, the Nonong Pedero. She’s certainly instrumental in drawing in considerable contributions.
Sairish Rosemarie. She’s arranged the photographer for the photo shoot and collected pics for the mag. She’s actually made use of her learnings from Mrs. La Torre’s class and worked on the Egyptian costume for her group.
Mina. She drives all the way from the South to spend weekends with her family. Yet she chooses to spend half of it to choreograph the group for the OPM medley.
Grace. She generously allows the committee (with mga pampagulong uzi like me) to hold meetings at their Tapa King branch along Libis and offers to drive people home especially when it’s particularly late and rainy.
The Falling Tears (Camille, Atty. Ruth, Cecille, Monet) lead the groups in the dance routines.
Other Wonder Girls. Elaissa gives her two cents’ worth of advice and provides inputs where needed. Karen has taken charge of editing and putting together the video messages. Agnes works hard at every activity and constantly helps out in the PABOLASTIK drive. Jen arranged the powerpoint version of the missalette for the mass. Mario prepared the AVPs (yes, in plural). Emelyn is the appointed poncho designer and maker for the group. Noi offered her catering services. The writers (Mae, Roxanne, Joan, Myra, Camille, Atty. Ruth, Mina, Mercy) and their moving write-ups. And many others who have helped in the various activities and have been generous with their talents and time and, of course, contributions.
Me…I wiggle my ears. I’m also a wonder girl but of a different breed - I’m the asking kind. I wonder and ask where these beautiful Wonder Girls draw their strength and energy from. What motivates and drives them to work so haaaard? I mean, they’re not after any grade or merit or approval. Their lives certainly do not depend on this. They don’t get paid to do all these. They’ve shelled out more than I ever could (and I’m not just talking money here). They’ve given back to Stella and to the batch more than what we deserve. They didn’t have to this…and yet they chose to.
Whatever happens on October 2 and beyond, Stellans Batch ’85 is soooo blessed to have such Wonder(ful) Girls! Wow and hats off and bravo and kudos and salute and good job and “galing” don’t seem to be adequate. But for now…these would have to do.
Thank you, Wonder Gels!
But then I go to the meetings and dance and song practices and I see the homecoming committee heads come in carrying bagful of stuff they’ve worked on or are working on for the upcoming celeb. I hear of talks of going to bed at 4:30 a.m. after working on the souvenir mag or sorting through pics or going through articles or other such stuff the batch would need for the grand alumni homecoming. All these over and above their office work, the clients that need attending to, the kids’ needs to be seen to.
It’s then I realize that my load is peanuts compared to the work the committee’s on. I also realize I’m surrounded by Batch 85’s own D’ Wonder Girls. Why are they Wonder Girls, you ask? Let me tell you.
Atty. Kristy. She’s all over the SMC place. Oh, excuse me…she’s all over the Metro. She’s off running around meeting printers, SMC nuns and teachers and alumni officers, photographers, potential sponsors, lights and sounds people, souvenir companies… the list goes on! She writes. She edits. She plans. Brings home people. Conceived PABOLASTIK. Incorporated Batch ’85. She also bears the brunt of complaints and protests and grumbles and objections. And yet you never see her without a smile. Shake that booty, girl!
Pia. She’s not just all over the place, she’ all over the phones, e-mails, FB and what have you. She’s our own private Idaho…este, detective I mean. She’s tirelessly looked for “missing” batch mates and is relentless in her pursuit to bring them all in and have them join in the fun. As co-chair, she meets people here and there and everywhere to work on the mag, on pics, accounts, registration, info updates, etc. She’s also been everywhere in the junk truck picking up…yes, you guessed it –junk. She’s generously offered Pia’s Pride to bring in food and stuff as well as drive people home and around.
Mela. The techie of the group. The cool and silent worker. She accepts work with a smile and silently does them without so much brouhaha. She’s worked with the web site developers and SMC web site committee for the design of our very own school web site. She’s kept account of the batch funds. Came up with the stage backdrop design and shirt designs. She’s actually used her leave credits to devote her Fridays on working on the PABOLASTIK drive.
Weng. She’s funny.
You thought that was it about Weng, didn’t you? Of course not! She brings in so much laughter she makes work fun. And what would PABOLASTIK be without her and her DUGYOTISTIC reports? Who’d have thought that working with junk could be enjoyable! She works just as hard as she does in making people laugh.
Mercy. Her decision to take a sabbatical from work is a blessing in disguise…a blessing for Batch ’85, that is. She’s created amazing songs and write-ups. Inspired Stellans, young and old, with her song and talk on how Stella shaped her (all of us really).
Atty. Ruth. She’s provided/referred our talented and patient choreographer, Tin, as well as our vocal coach and arranger, the Nonong Pedero. She’s certainly instrumental in drawing in considerable contributions.
Sairish Rosemarie. She’s arranged the photographer for the photo shoot and collected pics for the mag. She’s actually made use of her learnings from Mrs. La Torre’s class and worked on the Egyptian costume for her group.
Mina. She drives all the way from the South to spend weekends with her family. Yet she chooses to spend half of it to choreograph the group for the OPM medley.
Grace. She generously allows the committee (with mga pampagulong uzi like me) to hold meetings at their Tapa King branch along Libis and offers to drive people home especially when it’s particularly late and rainy.
The Falling Tears (Camille, Atty. Ruth, Cecille, Monet) lead the groups in the dance routines.
Other Wonder Girls. Elaissa gives her two cents’ worth of advice and provides inputs where needed. Karen has taken charge of editing and putting together the video messages. Agnes works hard at every activity and constantly helps out in the PABOLASTIK drive. Jen arranged the powerpoint version of the missalette for the mass. Mario prepared the AVPs (yes, in plural). Emelyn is the appointed poncho designer and maker for the group. Noi offered her catering services. The writers (Mae, Roxanne, Joan, Myra, Camille, Atty. Ruth, Mina, Mercy) and their moving write-ups. And many others who have helped in the various activities and have been generous with their talents and time and, of course, contributions.
Me…I wiggle my ears. I’m also a wonder girl but of a different breed - I’m the asking kind. I wonder and ask where these beautiful Wonder Girls draw their strength and energy from. What motivates and drives them to work so haaaard? I mean, they’re not after any grade or merit or approval. Their lives certainly do not depend on this. They don’t get paid to do all these. They’ve shelled out more than I ever could (and I’m not just talking money here). They’ve given back to Stella and to the batch more than what we deserve. They didn’t have to this…and yet they chose to.
Whatever happens on October 2 and beyond, Stellans Batch ’85 is soooo blessed to have such Wonder(ful) Girls! Wow and hats off and bravo and kudos and salute and good job and “galing” don’t seem to be adequate. But for now…these would have to do.
Thank you, Wonder Gels!
Monday, September 13, 2010
on crushes and first loves
Ahhhh! All these talks about high school crushes and first loves rekindled memories of my own “first love” while in high school.
It was the summer before my senior year when we first met - the time when “Telephone” by Sheena Easton and Spandau Ballet’s “Gold” were staple dance songs at parties and Bonnie Tyler’s "Total Eclipse of the Heart" was a constant at radio stations all over. He was a freshman in college and had just come out of the seminary to try out the “world” when I met him. His name was Alfred.
He was tall and lanky and wore eyeglasses that reminded me of Clark Kent. He was sweet and gentle and was quite a looker. We were pushed together at every opportunity by common friends and soon, I gave him my sweet “yes” (in Tagalog, “ang matamis kong ‘OO’”- Yehee!). I come from a conservative family and my mom and dad never knew him as a boyfriend (I think!).
We’d go out to parties or just hang out with friends. We did nothing major major. We were together for about 10 months when I started thinking of breaking up with him. The thrill had gone for me and I loved him dearly but more as a barkada than anything else. It was time to move on.
Just when I had practiced what I would say to him, he got seriously ill and was hospitalized for weeks. He never recovered. I was a young “byuda” at the tender age of 16. It was sad!
Since I was wracked with guilt over my “break-up” plan, I was scared to death that he would "visit" me from the other side. So for the whole summer after graduation (his funeral was on the day of my HS graduation - how dramatic can it get!), I slept in my parent's bedroom.
For the 2 months that I slept in my parents' bedroom, I woke up in the middle of the night to the rattling sound of the garden set chairs. It was on that set where Alfred and I used to hang out and talk. It was noisy! It was loud! It was distinct! But I will never understand how it is that I was the only one who woke up to that racket. It gave me palpitations and scared the life out of me!
One sunny Sunday afternoon, I was all alone in the house when I once again heard that rattling sound of metal chairs. I was again besieged with fear and panic. I found it difficult to breathe. Since the sun was out and I was pretty sure the neighbors would come to my rescue if I let out a bloodcurdling scream, I made one brave step after another towards the door to look out, expecting a tall, lanky guy sitting by his usual chair. Instead, I found our big dog under a metal chair scratching her ears with such gusto that her body knocked around the chairs and made those blasted rattling sound!
That night, I packed up my stuff from my parents’ bedroom and slept in my own bed like a log!
That bitch! (means female dog - what were you thinking?!?)
on dances and coffee table book
I’m doing this post while having my hair done at the salon. I badly needed to treat myself after a long and tiring weekend of practice for the SMC grand alumni homecoming celebration. Last Friday, the “dancers” for the program had a grueling non-stop seven(?)-hour practice. Some arrived as early as 10 am (wow!). Practice finished after 7 pm. After watching do our dance routines, our dance coach, Tin, was probably silently shouting, “MORE! MORE!... MORE PRACTICE!” We couldn’t seem to remember the steps to the 2-minute dances we’d have to perform! Senior moments galore!
After dancing the day away, there was more stuff to be done, however, I was told. The layout and selection of pictures for the coffee table book had to be completed ASAP. Since I was still pumped up and had reserve energy left (or so I thought), I did not hesitate to help out. But helping out was the last thing I did. While Atty. Kristy, Pia, Sairish, Weng and Mario were busily tinkering at the laptops or sorting some pics or going through lists or doing whatever for the homecoming, here were some of the things I did: ate jolly hotdog, stubbed my pinky toe (hurt like hell), bumped and bruised my leg against the bed post (hope I didn’t do damage to the bed post) and spilled water and ruined the rug and floor in Atty. Kristy’s bedroom where they worked.
It’s an understatement to say that I was no help. So after ruining the bedroom floor, I decided to stay glued to a corner lest I ruin anything else.
After 1 a.m., there were still work to be done… but home beckoned. So most of us packed up and left Atty. Kristy and Mario to do more work. I dropped off Weng, Sairish and Pia and headed home. As I was driving alone a little after 2:00 a.m., I felt useless and asked Bro why I was led to “help out” in the first place when I did little help, if at all. I could’ve been home resting or out having dinner. Why was I there? Then He said, “You brought them home.”
I felt shame after that. I was such a whiner. The officers of the committee have been at it tirelessly for months and they’re doing splendid work…and I don’t hear them complaining.
It was then reality hit me - we cannot all be movers and shakers of this world. There are also bit players to help move and shake. Every little bit of help counts a lot - coming to practices and meetings, being on time (a most definite plus), sharing our resources (a.k.a. money, cash, bread, datung, dough) and junk (also means cash) , give moral support (oh, I’ve got plenty of that to give), and yes, giving someone a lift…every little bit helps.
Much like in God’s little factory called earth - every one plays a role – big or small, a role just the same. And though I play a teenie-weenie role in His Kingdom, I'd like to do my teenie-weenie bit to help.
Lord, may I do my role, no matter how small, with a smile. Thank You for this role! And thank You for the "big" role players, especially those who play "big" in my life - my leaders, my mentors, my teachers. Bless them always!
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
oh so embarrasing!
I was having a hectic day and I was asking just about anybody who happened to be around to help me out and to please do this for me or to do that and to get me this or that. One of the documents I needed was too thick to be stapled so I looked in my drawer for a fastener. I only found a “girl” half of the fastener. Without thinking of what I was about to say, I blurted out loud enough for the people in the next building to hear: “Noel, kelangan ko na ng lalaki…now na!”
Realizing what I just said froze me dead in my tracks as I looked sheepishly at my friend and said: “That didn’t sound right.”
Good thing he was a friend and thought nothing of it. A stranger would probably think me desperate (well, aren’t I? Don’t answer that!).
This is the story of my life…a series of embarrassing moments.
One time, after watching a movie at the mall, i was hurrying up to go to the ladies' room. Thinking that it was my sister who was right behind me, i grabbed hold of her hand while rushing about and whispered, "I need to GO! at nauutot pa ko!" I looked back at her to share some conspiratorial smile. Instead of my sister's face, I found myself looking at this stranger's face staring wide-eyed at me (why the heck didn't she wiggle out of my grab hold?). I casually let go of her hand and merely looked away as if I hadn’t said a single thing.
While in the middle of a crowd, a friend asked me the schedule of the cleaning lady that comes over to another friend's house. I replied: "M, W, ape (translation: F)" . Embarrassing!!
In one of my trips, a friend excitedly announced: "O, kodakan!". To which i replied, "Wait! Mag-refresh lang ako! (translation: Mag-retouch lang ako!). Gosh!
I even embarrass myself while in prayer. Every night, we gather around for a family prayer (well, “family” at home now consists mainly of me and my 2 yayas). One time, as I lead the prayer of the Apostle’s Creed, I prayed, “I believe in God the Father Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth. I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins…”
I noticed the others had gone silent and were looking at me questioningly. Then I realized I had jumped forward and missed a whole section of the prayer. This was embarrassing not just to the others in prayer but most especially to God.
I silently said my "sorry prayer". Tao lang po!
It's a good thing my perfect God is forgiving and loves me...all of me, even my many embarrassing imperfections.
Realizing what I just said froze me dead in my tracks as I looked sheepishly at my friend and said: “That didn’t sound right.”
Good thing he was a friend and thought nothing of it. A stranger would probably think me desperate (well, aren’t I? Don’t answer that!).
This is the story of my life…a series of embarrassing moments.
One time, after watching a movie at the mall, i was hurrying up to go to the ladies' room. Thinking that it was my sister who was right behind me, i grabbed hold of her hand while rushing about and whispered, "I need to GO! at nauutot pa ko!" I looked back at her to share some conspiratorial smile. Instead of my sister's face, I found myself looking at this stranger's face staring wide-eyed at me (why the heck didn't she wiggle out of my grab hold?). I casually let go of her hand and merely looked away as if I hadn’t said a single thing.
While in the middle of a crowd, a friend asked me the schedule of the cleaning lady that comes over to another friend's house. I replied: "M, W, ape (translation: F)" . Embarrassing!!
In one of my trips, a friend excitedly announced: "O, kodakan!". To which i replied, "Wait! Mag-refresh lang ako! (translation: Mag-retouch lang ako!). Gosh!
I even embarrass myself while in prayer. Every night, we gather around for a family prayer (well, “family” at home now consists mainly of me and my 2 yayas). One time, as I lead the prayer of the Apostle’s Creed, I prayed, “I believe in God the Father Almighty Creator of Heaven and Earth. I believe in Jesus Christ His only Son our Lord. He was conceived by the power of the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, the Holy Catholic Church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins…”
I noticed the others had gone silent and were looking at me questioningly. Then I realized I had jumped forward and missed a whole section of the prayer. This was embarrassing not just to the others in prayer but most especially to God.
I silently said my "sorry prayer". Tao lang po!
It's a good thing my perfect God is forgiving and loves me...all of me, even my many embarrassing imperfections.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
conversion of the X-Men
I'm writing this out of "panghihinayang".
The Tagalog-English dictionary translates this Tagalog word as "pity or regret". Maybe so. But there is simply no English equivalent to my "panghihinayang". What or who am i talking about? Well, let me tell you.
I see him so dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh... oh wait, i got sidetracked with the onset of the "ber" months. Ok, here goes...
I see him and he is soooo dreamy looking and such a fine dresser. I hear him sing and it's like hearing an angel sing. I talk to him and he's so refined and is such a gentle man. Girls (and the questionables) swoon at the sight of him. I hear his friends talk about him and I only hear them say good things about him. What the heck is wrong with him then? Nothing except that... he is "WRONG".
"Wrong" you frown? Well, let me clarify...he's one of the X-Men (get it? ex-man?) - that's what's wrong.
Haaay! It is soooo frustrating to see all that "papable" goodness go to nothing...or should i say to no woman. For sometime now, I've made it my mission to pray for the conversion of the x-men. I tell myself that I need not end up as his Lucky Home Partner but any one of the female species would be answer enough to my prayer.
I think I've made some headway (or maybe it's just my imagination or wishful thinking on my part). But everybody seemed to be saying that all my efforts are futile. So, out of frustration, I've decided (temporarily) to take stock the advice of well-meaning friends and I've put off (again, temporarily) my quest for the conversion of the X-Men. I've, instead, taken up the old adage that says, "If you can't beat 'em, join them!"
In my pursuit to join the "race", I tried learning their language and so far, I've learned these:
Anik / Anetch — ano (what) / which
Baklah / Baklush — used instead of one’s name, may refer to any gender
Feel / feelanga /Fillet o’ Fish — type / gusto / crush/ like
Fly — alis (leave)
Jowa / Jowabelles / Jowabella — karelasyon / BF or GF
Enter the Dragon / Entourage — pasok (to enter) / come in
Crayola — iyak (to cry)
Itich - ito
Anong petsa na? — asked when someone is taking too long to dress up, etc.
Charing/Tienes — jest / a joke / not serious
Kaplang — mali (error) / mistake
Pamin, paminta, pamentos, pamenthol – discreet gay guy
Barbra Streisand / Barbara Perez — bara / binara (bluntly rejected)
Emote — mag-inarte pa rin (one who is over-acting)
Karir/Career — sineryoso ang isang bagay like BF or work (to be seriously involved)
Let me try it out: "Ano ba itich?! Kina-career ko ang pag-emote sa feelanga kong pamentos...pero crayola pa rin ako. Fly na lang kaya akish. Tienes!
Bagay ba?
Well, I'm off to learn something new...maybe I'll try learning their body language next time.
The Tagalog-English dictionary translates this Tagalog word as "pity or regret". Maybe so. But there is simply no English equivalent to my "panghihinayang". What or who am i talking about? Well, let me tell you.
I see him so dashing through the snow, in a one-horse open sleigh... oh wait, i got sidetracked with the onset of the "ber" months. Ok, here goes...
I see him and he is soooo dreamy looking and such a fine dresser. I hear him sing and it's like hearing an angel sing. I talk to him and he's so refined and is such a gentle man. Girls (and the questionables) swoon at the sight of him. I hear his friends talk about him and I only hear them say good things about him. What the heck is wrong with him then? Nothing except that... he is "WRONG".
"Wrong" you frown? Well, let me clarify...he's one of the X-Men (get it? ex-man?) - that's what's wrong.
Haaay! It is soooo frustrating to see all that "papable" goodness go to nothing...or should i say to no woman. For sometime now, I've made it my mission to pray for the conversion of the x-men. I tell myself that I need not end up as his Lucky Home Partner but any one of the female species would be answer enough to my prayer.
I think I've made some headway (or maybe it's just my imagination or wishful thinking on my part). But everybody seemed to be saying that all my efforts are futile. So, out of frustration, I've decided (temporarily) to take stock the advice of well-meaning friends and I've put off (again, temporarily) my quest for the conversion of the X-Men. I've, instead, taken up the old adage that says, "If you can't beat 'em, join them!"
In my pursuit to join the "race", I tried learning their language and so far, I've learned these:
Anik / Anetch — ano (what) / which
Baklah / Baklush — used instead of one’s name, may refer to any gender
Feel / feelanga /Fillet o’ Fish — type / gusto / crush/ like
Fly — alis (leave)
Jowa / Jowabelles / Jowabella — karelasyon / BF or GF
Enter the Dragon / Entourage — pasok (to enter) / come in
Crayola — iyak (to cry)
Itich - ito
Anong petsa na? — asked when someone is taking too long to dress up, etc.
Charing/Tienes — jest / a joke / not serious
Kaplang — mali (error) / mistake
Pamin, paminta, pamentos, pamenthol – discreet gay guy
Barbra Streisand / Barbara Perez — bara / binara (bluntly rejected)
Emote — mag-inarte pa rin (one who is over-acting)
Karir/Career — sineryoso ang isang bagay like BF or work (to be seriously involved)
Let me try it out: "Ano ba itich?! Kina-career ko ang pag-emote sa feelanga kong pamentos...pero crayola pa rin ako. Fly na lang kaya akish. Tienes!
Bagay ba?
Well, I'm off to learn something new...maybe I'll try learning their body language next time.
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