May 10 na Naman

Hapitwentitriyirsoldtumi. Well, belated, dahil May 11 na pala ngayon.

Mula sa aking birthday post na nakagisnan kong isulat bawat taon:

You’re aboard your car or some public transport, and you’re on your way to somewhere fearsome, something momentous.

You know the drill.

Your chest feels like it’s getting drilled. You gulp down inordinate amounts of saliva, and it feels as if a swarm of pupae hitched a ride down into your stomach where they would metamorphose into the proverbial butterflies. You try to distract your edgy self by staring at the world whizzing past the window, but your mind always recoils and fixates on one question. Will I fail the exams? Will Tito survive the operation? Will I impress the boss? Will She accept my flowers?

I’m not spared from these oh-God-let’s-just-get-this-over-with days. The nervous days in my life are as rife as the nerve endings of my body. How-I-Can-Change-the-Philippines elocution contests, ABS-CBN tapings, puppy love Valentine’s Days, thesis presentations, writers’ workshops.

And I’ve always got the most adrenalin-inducing, aorta-pumping start to this kind of days.

The moment I step out of our quinquagenarian apartment (read: fifty years, I just wanted you to hear the hoof beats in that word), I already feel like a soon-to-be-tested warrior. The swirling dust of Cordillera Street is the dust of the battlefield, and the overhead sun coaxes the sweat from my tense skin. (Of course, this poetic image is washed down when it’s the stormy season, but hey, the sleek curtain of raindrops more than makes up for it theatrically.) The noise and the blur of vehicles in front of me add to the atmosphere, making me hear war drums and making me see charging knights and scurrying squires.

I then flag down my stallion (or should I say, pony?) – one of the hundreds of tricycles plying Galas. “Boss, Quezon Av,” I thunder.

With that command, my warhorse (quinquagenarian-quinquagenarian-quinquagenarian) kicks into action, sometimes with a proud BROOOOOOM!, and sometimes with a meek brukdukdukdukdukduk. Especially when the stallion’s quite robust, I cling to the seat or the metal frame in the same way I would cling to my mount’s reins, and I imagine myself carrying a waxed, glinting lance into battle. Unfortunately, the lance is but my dirty shoulder bag.

A few gallops and I pass by Doña Aurora Elementary School, and the sight of the children adds to my anxiety. Not because I fear their being collateral damage in the battle I’m going to, but because they resurrect a lot of nervous moments from my having-to-wear-a-uniform years, such as my flag ceremony role of reciting the Panatang Makabayan (Patriotic Oath) from memory in grade school and my ‘fabulous pretty boy moment’ as the Helen-snatching Paris in the annual Iliad play in PSHS. Remembering past nervous moments in a current nervous moment is akin to beating your brain like an egg.

To make matters worse for my nerves, right across Doña Aurora is our parish church, and like a dutiful crusader I make the Sign of the Cross. I say my prayers, ask for His blessing, ask for Jesus’ guidance, and ask for the Holy Spirit to give me courage. In truth, like a dutiful crusader willing to charge headfirst into death, I’m just making peace with my God while struggling to make peace with my guts.

Oo, basta birthday post 'yan. Siguraduhing umabot kayo sa dulo. Basahin ang buong sanaysay sa Slip of the Pen.

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Masyadong seryoso 'yang sanaysay na 'yan kaya heto na lang ang ilang piks mula sa araw ng aking kaarawan (na di ko pinagdiriwang; kung bakit, malalaman mo do'n sa essay).

Pagkagising ko nang tanghali ay nagkataong walang ulam na nakahain, kaya pagkatapos kong magdrama ng kaunti ("bertdey ko pa naman, huhuhu", pero siyempre hindi ganyan kaarte), nakonsyensya ang aking ama upang magpadeliber na lang ng Pitsa Hat.


Sa kasamaang palad ay ayaw umalis ni Marimar...uh, 'yung pusa namin d'yan sa pic...kaya natabunan na lang siya ng mga papeles ng kung anu-anong delivery hotline. Dahil doon ay...wala. Natuloy pa rin naman ang pagpapa-deliber. Gusto ko lang sabihin ang "sa kasamaang palad."


Habang nag-aantay sa mainit na pitsa pay, napagdisketahan ko na lang muna ang mga pagkain mula sa nakaraang hapunan. Manok de Andoks. Siyempre, nagdrama rin si Jang Geum, ang kyut naming half-Dalmatian. (Halatado na bang "kapuso" ang mga tao sa bahay namin?)


Hindi naman ako sadista, kaya paunti-unti kong inilapit sa aso ang aking pagkain. Paunti-unti para maasar si Jewel in the Palace. Kasi nga sadista ako. Este! Ano ba sabi ko?


Hanggang di na nakatiis ang aso. Sinakmal ang daliri ko!!

Ilang minuto lang pagkatapos ng eksenang karumal-dumal na ito ay dumating na ang delivery guy. Wala nang mga retrato ng aking selebrasyong-hinde dahil masyado na akong busy sa pag-ngasab ng pagkain at wala nang oras humawak ng camera cellphone.

Ngayon, kung maaabutan ninyo ang bago kong Multiply headshot/avatar, mapapansin niyong ang batang si Jang Geum ang nariyan ('yung aso, hindi 'yung Koreana). 'Maaabutan', dahil bertdey-ispesyal lang 'yan at tatanggalin ko na rin. Kung di mo na nakita, heto siya:

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Mukhang masaya ang Mayo Diyes ko, pero pagsapit ng gabi ay labis itong lumungkot. Basahin na nga lang kasi ang sanaysay ko para malaman kung bakit.

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Hayun. Maligayang kaarawan sa akin. Tangina ang tanda ko na.