I had a horrible ride to the office this morning.

Since I’m not really a big fan of public utility jeepneys, with it’s open access to Manila pollution and elbow-nudging-your-boobs cramp space, I often take FX cabs (this is a transportation that could accommodate 10 people in an air-conditioned vehicle). Taxis are also out of the question since my office is pretty far from where I live, which meant I’d probably be a pauper by the time I arrived.

I was lucky enough to get a ride on a new Toyota Revo, which has great air-conditioning but the driver was just hell.

He kept on stepping at the breaks abruptly, and since his seats don’t have head support, most of his passengers’ heads throw back sharply, which is just a real pain in the neck. When I couldn’t take it anymore, I couldn’t help but say, "Putang ina naman eh! Mama, hindi ka ba marunong prumeno?!" (M*ther f*ckr! Don’t you know how to use the breaks?!).

I kind of gasped after that, since I’m not really a hostile person, let alone a vulgar one. The other passengers just sort of snickered when I said that. The driver, on the other hand, looked at me and said, "kung ayaw mo ng pagmamaneho ko, bumaba ka na lang!" (If you don’t like the way I drive, then get off!).

Well, I was already pretty pissed-off when he said that so I did (besides, I was already very near my destination). The amazing thing though is that the other passengers also went down his cab, some even approached me to say they didn’t pay him since they were on the verge of puking because of awful motion sickness. Besides, the driver was really rude.

When I got to my office, my world was spinning in a crazy mambo dance. I wasn’t able to recover quickly from all that chug-chug trip. My editor, looking at me and noticing I was pretty pale, gave me a few hershey’s kisses to cheer me up. I’m not really a big fan of chocolates, but I accepted it.

And you know what? It was just what I needed. I felt better after eating the first chocolate. I don’t know why but it just felt soooo good after a couple more.

Geez, I sound like Harry Potter and his recovery with the Dementors back there.

Oh well. I felt so guilty with all the chocolate I ate that I worked-out after that.

***

Aaaah. No chocolate can beat this sweet thing. This, by the way, is little Sabine

It was a disturbing dream.

I attended a family function held in a large chamber beneath my old high school. An orchestra was playing a very sad rendition of the Beatle’s Black Bird in the background. Despite the whole 12-stringed band, the hall still looked very spacious and ominous as I descended the steep rocky stairs.

Large banquet tables were set with elegant precision and each had six unlit candles on top plus a bouquet of lilies in the middle. My family was there, so was my aunt’s family. We were all waiting for more guests to arrive. But everyone was also apprehensive. Because the whole banquet hall was not your ordinary party venue, the whole place looked like flat land under a large cave with sharp stalactites hanging on top of our heads. The whole room was bordered by a veranda, which dropped directly to a magnificent emerald ocean.

But it wasn’t friendly. A large storm was brewing, and lightning and thunder were inching their way towards our party, lighting the sea and making it look more monstrous by the second. Though obviously scared, everyone refused to leave.

My aunt defiantly sat on her chair, refusing to accept that her party was a failure. My uncle was already shouting at her, demanding to let everyone leave. But she remained – stone-faced and rigid. As the winds howled louder, and the temperature picked-up, the band continued to play louder. Then my aunt decided to start the festivities, which meant it was time to light the candles.

I was able to successfully use the match in all six candles, whose combined lights lit so bright, it glowed like a light tower and made the ocean glow. Then one strong gust of wind blew the flames away and we were covered in darkness, except for flashes of lightning. The ocean god was very angry for some reason.

I found myself running, trying to get to the stairs in time, and that’s when I realized I was holding a very young little girl, she looked no older than two years old. She had long black hair, and her eyes, they were my eyes, and my cheekbones. I wondered for a second who she was, and why I was holding her. And then I shouted to my aunt, "Take her! She’s your daughter!" My aunt hollered back, "she’s not!" And I don’t know why, but I couldn’t just let her go. Those lips… I’ve kissed them so many times…

And the most horrific thing was, she started to melt in my arms, but she was smiling, and I was trying to scoop-up her melting form, until all that was left of her were trickles of rain, and her waters ran the ground and she became one with the ocean.

That’s when I woke up.

And I realized I was crying and that my hips hurt with dull pain.

My heart still beating furiously, I tiptoed into the bathroom (it was around 3am) and felt this unbearable kind of sadness, and for some reason, pain brought about by my whole reverie experience. When I got to the bathroom, I realized what was causing the pain -- it was the first day of my period.

I just sat there to think, and to calm myself, and every nerve which seemed to have gone haywire during my nightmare. And with it, comes this dark presumption… (to those who personally know me, please, I ask that you hold your judgements and questions until we decide to meet-up, drinking buddhas et al.)

Because I think, I just lost my baby.

Prior to that night, I was already three weeks delayed of my period, of course, I could always blame it to the fact that I’ve never been regular when it comes to my cycle ever since I was 12. But lately, I just felt different. Like there was now more than me who knows what I’m thinking and what I’m feeling. I told N about it, and he just looked at me closely, smiled, and said, "yeah. I know." I guess he felt it too.

We already planned our first visit to the doctor, and planned more on how to tell our folks about it. But most importantly, we seriously thought of our life together. I was happy, but I was more scared than ever. I’m young, and I just thought of all the things I was missing. It was a selfish thought but that’s the truth.

I guess she felt I wasn’t ready yet, and that’s why she decided to go. And now, a part of me feels very empty. My dream sort of embodied her presence, and now she just feels more real than ever.

I visited my doctor, and she told me, it was really too early to tell whether I was almost with child since I’ve been very irregular from the start. She also told me the sad truth that I have a condition that would prove very difficult for me to conceive. Now and in the near future.

When I met N for lunch today, he just lay his head on my lap, kissed my belly, closed his eyes, and… well, I’m not sure what else he did because I turned to look at the sun, held his hand, and once more cried. And just like that, N became more than just my lover, we became soulmates, sharing the same grief, and greater still, the same love.

Maybe in some other lifetime, I might actually know what happened to me. But I know she was real, and I just want to say that even though having her would have been very hard, I never would have given her up.

@@@

To Isabel,

YOU, are love

"Good afternoon ma'am, the car will be available for pick-up tomorrow at 10am. You can return it by Friday."

"Pick-up? Car? Eh?"

"Yes ma'am. The Aveo Chevrolet remember? You'll be using it for your fashion shoot tomorrow."

"But...but... i thought you were just kidding!"

"Oh no ma'am, we'd love to be a part of your project. Anyway, please bring your driver's license and two valid id's"

Okay. As a writer I’ve been allowed to stay for free in magnificent resort, given free clothes, treated to the best spas and salons, and was allowed to use the latest techno gadgets that are not even available in the market. But to actually let me borrow one of the newest lines of sedan – now THAT was really something.

For one, I think it’s absurd! They don’t even know me! How’d they know that I’m not a raving driver lunatic who speeds like I’m after my own death sentence? What if I smashed it in some freak accident?! Worse, they don’t even know I have no idea how to drive! It’s ridiculous, it’s dangerous, it’s risky (pass me the dictionary, I need more adjectives!!!), and men … it’s just downright cool!

So of course, I head out to General Motors the next day (with my cousin as driver) and went home with the brand new, blue-sleek Aveo sedan which i called, blue beauty. I used it to drive around during a fashion shoot with two absolutely gorgeous models, and used it after for driving lessons (the gas tank was full, you see). I was able to drive it around the bucolic UP Diliman Campus, and into the busy Congressional Avenue (that is, until I’ve had it with too many trucks zooming beside me and my friend shouting in fear that I just let her drive). In the end, my editor decided the car should be parked in her garage (thank God!), it was just too much of a responsibility for me to be worried about. Besides, I just couldn’t bring myself to be attached too much. Still, it was a great experience and I’d be able to say one day, "Oh the Aveo? Yeah I drove it once. I loved the power front disc brakes and power rack-and-pinion steering." Of course by then, I’m hoping I’d know what I’m talking about. And of course, hoping more that I already own my own car.

My one-day blue beauty *sigh*. Miss her already.

***

On another note, I’m interviewing Chester Bennington of Linkin Park tomorrow morning. The invites highlighted the time – 8am, which was good. They wouldn’t want me running around again in my minis and 3-inch heels, would they?

Charm Overdrive

I kept on thinking how late I was for a meeting when I boarded the cab.

It was another sizzling summer noon so I opted to take a seat in the middle to avoid any contact with the crazy sun.

Twenty minutes into the drive, I noticed the cab driver looking at me through the rearview mirror. I instinctively tried to cover-up my front using the pretty much large bag I was carrying. Another three minutes and I looked again. The driver was still stealing glances.

"What a perv", I thought.

Sensing my growing hostility, he finally spoke.

"Ma’am, the guy behind the Pajero on our right keeps on looking at you. Kanina pa po nakasunod (he’s been following us for a while now)"

Surprised, I slowly turned right. And there he was. A fair-skinned yuppie-looking-type, a bit on the chubby side, driving a green Pajero alongside my cab. But what really blew me away was the fact that he was making the thumbs-up sign at me and giving me this really nice smile while mouthing the word, "number".

Like duh?

But he was too slow for my obviously expert Manila driver, who decided he’s had enough of the tailing and overtook the Pajero easy.

I stared at the driver once more through the rearview mirror, and this time his eyes were laughing.

"Nabighani" (captivated).

I couldn’t help but blush.

@@@

Though already late, it was surprising to find out that the person I was supposed to meet would be coming even later.

The sun was really unbearable so I decided to head-out for Chowking and get myself a regular glass of Halo-halo (a redefined version of ice cream. yum!). They gave me a number so I could just wait for my order while I sat near one of their windows which gave me a very good view of the crowd passing by. It was fun looking at them and trying to make-up stories of what kind of life they’re living – "there goes the guy who owns a dozen cats, then there’s a lady who divorced her husband three times but remarried him again, then there’s the guy on a toothpaste commercial… wait, he IS the guy on that toothpaste commercial!"

After a while, I looked at the counter and noticed two guys waiting in line looking in my direction and talking to each other. One of them elbowed the other’s chest and nudged his head towards me. Then both of them gave me this knowing smile. Both looked like gym instructors by the way – the biceps, the abs, the shoulders… (*flick!* Techie snaps back to reality).

"What the…?!" By this time I became paranoid and headed for the washroom for a while.

Looking at myself on the mirror – blouse pretty decent, jeans pretty clean … zipper up (goes for a second look) uhuh, hair let loose, dirt on face? (nah). Looks pretty normal? Check.

Alright, so what’s happening? That’s three guys in one day already, and I haven’t even had lunch yet! Okay, so maybe I’m charming (mentally deflates head now). Whatever, I don’t see anything wrong, so I just go back to my table and enjoy my big aquarium of people.

When my order arrived, the person I was meeting was already waiting for me in front of the coffeehouse I first suggested. So I got up, Halo-halo in hand and headed for the door.

When I passed by the two guys, one of them gave me a folded table napkin.

"Miguel – 0927*******. I think you’re nice. Txt me". I just stared at him and went my way.

A few steps near the coffeehouse, I looked for the nearest garbage bin and threw away the number.

Here in Manila, you do NOT entertain guys who give their name on tissue papers.

@@@

I was pretty zonked at the end of the day. Maybe it was the heat or the hours of walking around the four large connected malls in Makati. The night was too humid so I decided against my plan to leisurely walk alone the glitzy corporate jungle. So I hailed the first cab I saw.

When I got in, I just let my head drop and closed my eyes, savoring the comfortable airconditioning of the hack. It was a Friday night so traffic was bad. Really bad.

Waiting for the light to turn green, I suddenly glanced at the opposite side of my window and saw a guy in a beemer also waiting for the light to turn green. He was going the other way.

Maybe it was his fashionably messy hair or the clean aura he emitted, but I stared at him longer than I intended. A metrosexual, I suppose. I wondered how it would be if I was in the same car as him.

He’d probably smell of Paul Smith Extreme, and his hands would be as soft as flan (well manicured of course). He’d talk to me about culture, of the latest country he’s visited like the culture of India or the people of Borneo. Then he’d be humming to Hoobastank’s ‘Reason’ and say that he’s dedicating the song to me. And while he’s driving, he’d be holding my hand, taking it with him whenever he switches gears, and kissing it in every stop light.

That’s when he looked in my direction and caught me staring at him. I quickly turned my head away and felt hot from head to foot. Good thing it was dark and the soft yellow glow of the streetlamps hid my blush.

The traffic was really bad. I stole a glimpse at him and noticed he was also looking. His expression was that of curiosity, as though he was thinking whether he knows me from somewhere. So I lowered my gaze and the ends of my mouth slowly rose into a small smile. He was cute. He was very cute.

Finally, the light turned green and as the cab slowly lurched forward, I bravely looked at his direction one last time. This time he was smiling. And before driving off, he gave me a very sexy wink.

He was long gone into the night. But I carried the memory of his face ‘til morning.

This morning, i chanced upon a very long political segment for my presidential candidate, Raul Roco. And once more, I was reminded why I'm actually rooting for this man. Not only is he tops in the integrity department, he's also the type of leader you know would make waves for the country. Unlike the leading inexperienced action star who claims to be the nation's only hope, unlike the reigning president who's so sly you know she's up to no good, unlike the warlord who's more than famous for his bloodlust. The ad was so moving, that I’ve felt more patriotic than I did during EDSA dos. You can feel his sincerity and strong desire to do nothing else but serve my country.

However, the problem with my candidate, is that he's too proud to involve himself with the presumably popularity contest that is our election campaigns. He’s confident that his excellent record in public service is enough to market him as the next leader. He makes no use of superficial schemes to get our votes – no money, no otso-otso dance, no flimsy photo-ops with babies and old women. You get what you actually see. He’s that confident with our people.

But my people are stupid – I, am stupid. We choose our leaders not because he is the obvious choice, but because he or in this case, she, is the most winnable. People are willing to vote for our two-faced current leader, to sacrifice their welfare, just so the incompetent candidate, actor, clown wouldn’t win. This is our so-called democratic country – devoid of having to actually choose the president that we want.

Then there’s the issue of his health – that Roco is suffering from Cancer and that he won’t be able to carry-on the duties of being the most powerful man in my country. But believe me or not, this has actually restored my faith. I am a Catholic – considered a hypocrite religion, however, despite its imperfections, it has established in me the belief that there is indeed a God – a good, compassionate God to be exact. And I know that he’s not abandoning our country, and if it helps itself and lets Roco win, then he’d give him six more years, just six years, and I believe he’ll turn this country around. And by then, Roco will retire – maybe weaker than he’d anticipate, but his heart and every Filipino’s heart will not only be stronger, but content.

I cried because this is our last chance to have this great man as a leader. So I did my own sacrifice and sent message through MMS to watch the political presentation on network giant ABSCBN and that they should think hard on whom to vote for – I sent the message to everyone I knew and who’s in my phonebook. I cajoled stars, models, yuppies to ponder on what that one vote of theirs could mean, the power of one, enough to topple a current corrupt government, and enough to impede a blundering one from ever taking seat. I debated with cab drivers, talked to strangers inside jeepneys, FX taxis, trains and almost tried to submerge myself in all political discussions – which is very funny since most of them don’t take me seriously and think that I’m good only with make-up, fashion and cosmopolitan lifestyle. That’s how much I believe in my candidate – I’d painstakingly persuade each and everyone that I walk with in life, look silly even, just so they could choose someone that may not be perfect, but right.

I am not a political person. But I am human. I see my people suffering everyday because they have put their trust on people who have betrayed them so openly, this just got to change. We’ve suffered far too long.
I know I may be wrong, but if one part of my heart tells I’m doing the right thing and that I’m supporting the right person, then I’d wage this cause until it’s time to cast the ballots.
I'm not about to just let those creeps screw us this time.

The bright blinking of my phone woke me from a sleepy stupor last night.

"Hey you. I just want to say I was thinking of you."

Still a bit groggy, I was able to punch in, "Really? And why were you thinking of me?"

"Well, I was taking a break from reading all those cases and you’re face just popped on my mind"

Now pretty awake and slightly amused, "You mean you think about me when you’re tired?"

"Not really. But I do like thinking about you when I’m drained. Natatanggal ang pagod ko (it takes away my weariness)"

…

If you guys think that was N, well guess again. It was actually the infamous Double-N – the person whose name I accidentally used in a message I sent my beau about a month ago. The same one who got me the cold shoulder from N for a couple of days. The soccer jock, college bestfriend, old flame.

He texted last night to catch-up on things. Asking how I was, how was my job, my family, etc. etc. I don’t know if it was just me, but I think he avoided asking how me and N are. Well, he didn’t need to. I voluntarily gave him the information.

"Oh, by the way, N and I have been together for more than a year and a half now."

It took him awhile before he finally answered.

"Oh. That’s great."

"How about you? Is there a special someone I should meet?"

"No. There’s no one. I think the last girl in my life was…ummmm… you."

…

Some of you might think that this is actually sweet. Believe me it’s not.

Double-N was my college bestfriend for two years. Aside from the fact that he was my personal emotional dumpster – pouring all my angst every night as we burn the lines, he was also a constant buddy and a very solid male figure in campus. Everything was great between us – that is, until I fell for him. Hard.

There were times when I couldn’t point out whether we were the ‘safe’ bestfriends who’d just hang-out and talk about everything that concerns our personal lives, or whether we’ve already crossed THE LINE, to something more complicated, but definitely wonderfully more romantic – we’d cuddle, hold hands, exchange mushy messages… and all other stuff only couples do. I’d spend precious time talking to Haze and Ex_groupie, asking them what they think about our situation and whether I should consider couple-dom somewhere in the horizon. I’d ask them what I should do, and if it’s okay to tell him how I feel.

And then things would get crazy like how he’d pull away when we’re getting closer, and how somewhere in the middle of my confusion, he’d do the most heartbreaking thing and get himself a girlfriend.

It went on for two years – how he’d always fall for another girl, while I’d remain single, hoping against hope that one day he’d wake-up and realize that I’m the girl of his dreams. He woke-up too late.

Just before I started my job, I finally decided to tell him the truth – that he was the guy I pine for everyday, and that all my dreams included him, and that I love him. An honest love that bloomed out of a wonderful friendship – sincere, wonderful, true.

It took him a couple of minutes before he answered back. Saying that he loves me, but that he can’t make any romantic connection, that I was too precious and that he wouldn’t want our relationship to end-up the way his former relationships have. He loved me, but he didn’t want me. THAT was my wake-up call.

So I cried for him for about a week before I was finally called to start my first job. Life changed after that. I immersed myself in enjoying my job – I got to travel, met different people, and I met N. And for the second time, I fell in love again. I also decided to let my hair grow, to signify the new me – or at least, my post-double N era.

It was months before I saw him again, and that time, N and I were already pretty serious. My hair grew considerably long and it was with great satisfaction that his mouth literally dropped when he saw me. And then I knew… I’m over him. Not because I’m more confident about myself, but because I was lucky enough to have met someone who loved me with the same intensity that I was ready to show, and was willing to take the chance. No questions asked.

Believe it or not, there even came a time (when N and I were on the verge of our first major fight) that I went to him for comfort. It was okay at first, until I saw this notebook he was keeping which contained all the love letters we’ve exchanged back in college. He looked pretty surprised when he saw me reading it. I was equally surprised knowing he actually kept one! Then he took the notebook from my hand, held my face and kissed me. It was the first kiss we shared, and the only one I swear was going to happen between us.

I was so shocked that I wasn’t able to react instantly. His lips felt and tasted all wrong. Then and there, I knew I wouldn’t want anyone but N to touch me. So I gently pushed him away and just said…

"I can’t."

"But I love you…"

It’s funny how before, I’ve always wanted to hear him say that. Well, not anymore.

"If this was seven months ago… I have a boyfriend now"

"I know! I was so surprised when I heard about it, I didn’t know what to do…"

"I’m sorry…"

"Please, I love you…"

"…I don’t… not anymore… I’m sorry "

I left Double-N confused, but obviously relieved. When I came home, N was waiting for me outside my house, and without even saying anything, I ran to the warmth of his arms, to his familiar scent and thought, "Here. This is where I should be. This is where I want to be."

And aside from a couple of text messages every once in a while, I haven’t seen Double-N since.

I can never really tell what will happen in the future, but for now, I know I’ll always be indebted that he taught me how to appreciate the person that I love, and that people, no matter how much they hurt in the past, would get over the pain, and they’d be able to love someone else more than they ever thought they could.

…

"Anyway, always be safe."

"Sure, you too."

"ummm… I still love you, you know"

Smiling. "Well… thank you."

And from the bottom of my heart, I know, I’m truly thankful.