His assassination was a miscalculation on the Marcoses’ part.
He knew he was going to be killed the moment he steps on Philippine soil. But I guess, it was a carefully calculated move on his part.
Primitivo Mijares knew he will be killed writing that book.
He was a spark.
Everyone who got imprisoned and/or killed were sparks.
And when you have multiple sparks then the gasoline tank tips over… You have hell.
Apparently that hell wasn’t enough to burn the Marcoses. Lucifer kicked them out because he will be without a throne if they lingered more.
So now we have them back.
Today we commemorate the assassination of Ninoy at the Manila International Airport (now Ninoy Aquino International Airport). This government wants to change its name back to MIA as part of their historical revisionism. Those who are not poisoned by the Marcoses and their money remember.
At 6:30 am this morning my older sister and I walked to one of the subdivisions outside the university campus to buy food from the pop-up weekend market.
Good thing it didn’t rain. Photo by CallMeCreation.comI guess our eyes were hungrier than our stomachs. We bought a lot. Photo by CallMeCreation.comWe bought some sourdough bread and sourdough pizza. They were pricey but good. Photo by CallMeCreation.comAlso bought some green products like handmade soaps, shampoo bars and reusable feminine pads for me and the girls. I started using cloth napkins last year but the shampoo bars was just a new thing for me. After using one of Human Nature’s shampoo bars for two weeks, I noticed that my hairfall was lesser compared to when I was still using the Korean shampoo I regularly bought.I hope that this will solve my thinning hair problem. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
After taking our haul back home (burning around 175 kcal), we walked towards the heart of the campus to buy fresh milk and yoghurt again. I saw these mushroom chips but my goodness, this will make uric acid shoot through the roof.
I love mushrooms but my joints don’t like them. Photo by CallMeCreation.comUnkept front yard.Photo by CallMeCreation.com
My mother is quite ambitious. Once upon a time she was on an orchid shopping binge, buying all the orchids she fancied and had them mounted on driftwood to mimic the natural habitat of epiphytes. But then she’s really not a gardener so she just left it to the househelp to maintain it for her. However, gardening is not a priority in this household.
Even though this side of my mom’s property is not included in my future domain, I told my mom I am commandeering this garden because none of her 3 other children are exhibiting any interest in it. No one protested. They can’t even bothered by it. My sisters do not even like having animals to take care of.
I will plant a lot of roses, yellow bells, and other ornamental plants. Edible plants will be planted in between, like herbs and some salad greens.
The garden that will be legally mine will be this:
Cicadas are having a concertI went to the balcony to sketch while I listened to the cicadas and other forest sounds. Photo by CallMeCreation.com The light was already dying. Photo by CallMeCreation.comI couldn’t finish because mosquitoes were already eating me alive. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The following are part of my photo dump from yesterday:
If you’re late for class, this becomes the walkway of shame if you were an underclassman. The high school seniors’ classrooms were just on the right side of this walkway. Most seniors I knew back then often looked out the windows when bored. Which was often. 🤣 But if you happened to be a high school senior yourself, your classmates/batchmates would clap their hands and rain you with catcalls. 😂😂😂This, my friends, is the walkway to my home. I was so naive before. Some boys would walk beside me and chat while I was going home…and it would take some time before I realized I was “being walked home” by a boy. Hahahaha! Some would ask if they could go under my umbrella because they didn’t bring any. One day a boy I was crushing on often walked me home, especially after theater rehearsals… He is now a happy gay man. HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I knew something was wrong. I had always been a fairy godmother. HOHOHOHOHO! I just don’t know why gay men were/are still attracted to me. LOL.
I’ve been so disconnected to this place for a long time. Maybe because I wanted to stay away from my family while I was with J. I distanced myself from my home because I didn’t know at that time what lies ahead. Where will my future be? So I was already training myself to detach from the safe and familiar.
I walked this morning around the campus for some exercise and to buy fresh milk (the real fresh milk) and some yoghurt. I walked through the former “dirt road” adjacent to our high school’s former building.
The fire exit where I used to get to the roof to skip Literature class. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This complex is now occupied by the Math Department and my high school transferred off-campus to a new building complex. This fire exit was my escape from the oppressive Literature class when I was in my third year in high school. The teacher that used to handle that class had put me down so much that I never once forgotten how bad I really felt when she did that. I was compared to my siblings and she basically said I didn’t amount to anything compared to them.
So guess what, Ms. A? It seemed like amounted to SOMETHING that you didn’t even imagine I could ever be.
The quadrangle is now so overgrown. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This side is just a third of our high school building (now Math Dept). This quadrangle was where bands used to jam. The concrete stage can no longer be seen because of the overgrown weeds. There’s a sign outside of this complex that says this will be reconstructed (or torn down???) to give way to the new Registrar building.
Umali Freedom Park. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I walked around this oval because it was a nice morning.
Mussaenda in full bloom. It thrives during the rainy season. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThe kapok tree that spews cotton during the summer months. It used to be just a sapling when I was still a student. Photo by CallMeCreation.comChoco fresh milk and coffee milk. Photo by CallMeCreation.comYoghurt. Photo by CallMeCreation.comLittle children playing football. That’s where I used to play when the lower field is too muddy for the football to roll. Photo by CallMeCreation.comA nice picnic spot. This used to be a place where some fraternity rumbles started. Stupid. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThe chamber of torture. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
This classroom was where I had one of my least favorite subjects of my life, Plane Trigonometry. I hated it with a passion.
The Humanities Steps. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
During my undergrad years, this was the Humanities Building and its steps were once the hangout of the Communication Arts majors, who happened to be (more often than not) the rich kids of the campus or those who are also more fashionable and the party kids. Mere mortals like me back then wouldn’t dare sit on these steps. Like “hey, you can’t sit here. You’re not as cool as the rest of us.” I used to sit on the benches inside while waiting for my next class. More often than not, those were occupied by the social science majors, not as hoity-toity as the CommArts people.
The Biological Sciences wing. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I literally grew up here. After classes in elementary, I would walk from my school to go to my mom’s office or lab here to wait for her so we can go home together (back when we lived off-campus). I played every afternoon here and the field beside this was where I used to play with the children of other faculty members. We used to catch dragonflies and play with freshly cut grass there. Now the molecular biology building sits there.
In my undergrad years, I used to sit on these steps and also on the concrete benches around this wing because I had a lot of biology subjects then (I thought of pursuing environmental science journalism, that’s why I majored in science communication then). I also waited for my crush to pass by every Tues and Thurs at 3 pm. He was a biology major. My friends and I would wait at these steps so I could have a glimpse of him. Hahahaha! I don’t know if he was one of my mom’s students but most of the pre-med students didn’t take her courses.
The concrete bench where I used to sit and review my notes before going to my Botany class. Photo by CallMeCreation.comI haunted this area for 20 years—from elementary until my undergrad years. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
There are three four wings in this building complex: the biology institute, plant pathology, entomology/zoology, and molecular bio. I ran around the corridors of these wings when I was a kid and I remember encountering pressure cooker-type autoclaves outside the labs, hissing angrily at me. I was often afraid the clamps would suddenly pop and hit me on my face or temple when the steam became too much for them to handle. Until today I am still afraid of autoclaves.
This used to be a well-kept garden. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
In between the wings were gardens. I used to play pretend here, like it was my secret garden and I was in my own fantasy world, weaving stories inside my head while I waited for my mom to finish with work. It’s quite disheartening to see this fall into this state. Well, what can you expect after two years of no one going in here?
The college where my brother is dean now. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThere was an ongoing photo shoot when I took this and the guy seems annoyed at my intrusion. Cosmos, my birth flower. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThe flower named after the female anatomy in Tagalog. Heeheehee! Photo hy CallMeCreation.comMariang Banga. According to local ghost stories, this statue moves and Maria carries her clay pot in different positions. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThis used to be a swampland. Every time it rained heavily, the rainwater got stranded here and this entire area will get flooded since it was just grassland back then. Photo by CallMeCreation.comThey are renovatingthat park in front of the Humanities building and make it similar to the one we have in UP Diliman.Photo by CallMeCreation.com
It’s nice going down the memory lane today. All these reminded of me why I called this home. Why I feel safe here and why I also think my girls will be freer here. Today I let Twin A walk around the campus by herself. It’s about time anyway.
That’s why my older sister felt at home in Brisbane, in UQ campus. She said the vibes are similar and both are laid back. People here are more outdoorsy, like in UQ.
Primer. I need more dry days for the finishing and buffing.
Keeping my fingers crossed, praying for more dry days so the paint job will be finally done. The broken taillight will be replaced and hopefully I can take this home early next week before I leave for Singapore. ❤
There are still a lot to be done with this car: central locks and alarm, new carpeting, new tint, and sound system (but that is already the least of the things I must do). When my house is completed by December, I’ll start hauling my books and arrange it there. I found that when moving houses, the books are the most difficult to pack and unpack. I will be moving small items little by little so by May of next year, only the big ones will be moved. If the headwinds have died down and the economy recovers from this horrible stagflation, then I will sell this and get myself that new Toyota Avanza for minimal headache.
I’m still thinking if it’s still worth it to reupholster my couch or just buy a new sofa bed from Ikea. From a sustainability perspective, I should have my current sofa reupholstered so that there would be less waste. From a cost standpoint, I don’t know if it would be cheaper. Let’s see after I consult with the reupholsterer.
I think this would be safe from my cats.FYRESDAL Daybed with 2 mattresses, black/Ågotnes firm
Besides, Twin I also wanted this particular sofa bed and begged me to buy it for our house. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
Why would I want a sofa bed? I remember in high school and college, we had a constant stream of friends sleeping over at our house since we had five rooms that can accommodate them. I mean, all of us children had short-term (friends’ homes are far and they want to take naps in between classes and a comfortable place to study) and long-term guests (friends from broken families who needed to get away from the chaos of their homes; friends with no family to stay with during Christmas breaks). My parents made our home open to our friends and I want to keep that tradition. All of our friends had fond memories of spending time in our house. My friends spent their Fridays with me, watching movies in our tiny second floor TV area when we were in high school. In college, our house is where my friends spent and got rid of their hangovers.
I made sure that in the new plan for my tiny house, the kitchen will take the center stage as I will be providing a lot of food for hungry teenagers—and for my sister-in-law and cousin who love my cooking. I’m not an excellent cook but I do some dishes exceptionally well. My friend K and everybody else in my family love my potato salad combined with grilled fish or meat.
Hotpot with mishua tonight. Photo by CallMeCreation.com
I’m excited about the my prospects for the next 12 months. I’m already drawing in my head the plan for the back garden and the front garden. I already have the laborers in mind and the things that should be done (compost pit, growing beds, flower beds, irrigation system, and movable chicken coop).
And this is the goal:
And no one is allowed to rain on my parade.
A colleague asked me today why can’t I just ignore those catfishers? I said, “because I’m bored.” I also want to release this pent-up fury through passive aggressiveness towards unscrupulous strangers. I want to hit and hit ’em hard.
I know this will backfire on me but I just want to get even with the opposite sex, even though it doesn’t really make sense. It’s not even apples to apples but doing this cools my deep-seated anger. I recognize that this anger is unjustified but can you blame me for harboring it?
I already paid for the girls’ school tuition this afternoon. Writing the check and handing that amount to the school cashier every May is always a leap of faith.
They will be having a hybrid setup where the children will be divided into batches: some kids will be physically in school on MW while the others are at home; then they will be at home for T-TH while the others will be in school. Thank you for small mercies like this because my kids are tired of online school. I would have been tired too if I were in their shoes.
I have also paid for their high school entrance exam review tonight. They will have the sessions starting June every weekday afternoon and by August through September they will be having it every Sunday, for 4 hrs every morning until noon.
Alongside that are their regular Kumon sessions.
Twin I complained that they already have too much on their plate. I told them that was nothing when I was their age. I had high school entrance exam review classes, Math tutorial, Sunday (Catholic Church) school, and Rondalla practices, piano lessons, and goodness knows what else. I rode public transport through all of these. I didn’t complain because it was expected of me and there’s this unspoken pressure that 1) must always be an honor student; 2) must pass UP high school and UP (college) or else I will fail my parents and bring them shame since my brother topped those exams; my older siblings always graduated with honors, if not valedictorian. I was not given a choice not to pass those exams. I was not given a choice not to be an honor student.
It was not an option.
My kids are luckier because they know I have a Plan B. My parents had no Plan B for me then. It was taboo. I was the only one among my siblings who didn’t take the Philippine Science High School exam because right off the bat I knew I will not pursue a science career. My other choice then was Philippine High School for the Arts but I was confused whether I would be pursuing theater then or creative writing so in the end I didn’t take the screenings, but I already had in my hand the application forms. In the end I just rested my entire future in one entrance exam and it was only now that I realized that I would have been truly fucked if I didn’t pass UP high. My mom said, just a few years ago, that she was confident that her children would pass. I just don’t know where she got the confidence that I would.
My kids are now pressured to choose what their career paths would be–Twin I came to me one night and told me she doesn’t know what high school track she should pursue. I told them they could be whatever they want. They wouldn’t know what they wanted to do in life even after they graduate from college. I told them some friends keep reinventing themselves 20 years after. So they shouldn’t lose their hair trying to figure out what they wanted to do because things change.
I was the rare person who knew at 16 what she wanted to do for the rest of her life. Twenty-six years after, I’m still doing it and I have no regrets.
This song by Sam Smith is so apt for me right now. I used to always downgrade myself, thinking that I didn’t deserve so and so things, this person, this…Blame it on low self-esteem growing up. It took me 40 years to realize that no, I’m not so bad after all. That I’m ok. Sometimes more than ok. If only I knew what I know now back when I was in my 20s, I could’ve saved me a lot of heartache and sorrow.
But then adulting is like that, isn’t it?
Have you ever felt like being somebody else? Feeling like the mirror isn’t good for your health? Every day I’m tryin’ not to hate myself But lately, it’s not hurtin’ like it did before Maybe I am learning how to love me moreIt used to burn Every insult, every word But it helped me learn (yeah) Self-worth I had to earn So I tried every night To sit with sorrow And eventually, it set me freeHave you ever felt like being somebody else? Feeling like the mirror isn’t good for your health? Every day I’m tryin’ not to hate myself But lately, it’s not hurtin’ like it did before Maybe I am learning how to love me moreJust a little bit (love me more) Just a little bit (love me more) Oh, no (love me more) Just a little bit (love me more)I used to cry myself to sleep at night I’d blame the sky when the mess was in my mind I couldn’t see, I couldn’t breathe So I sat with sorrow And eventually, it set me freeHave you ever felt like being somebody else? Feeling like the mirror isn’t good for your health? (If you have, let me hear you right now) Every day I’m tryin’ not to hate myself (yeah, yeah, yeah) But lately, it’s not hurtin’ like it did before (sweet child) Maybe I am learning how to love me moreJust a little bit (love me more) Just a little bit (love me more) Oh, I’m gonna try to (love me more) With a little bit of love (love me more)Love me more Love me more (just a little bit) Love me more (love me more) Love me moreOh, gonna love me more (gonna love me more) Oh, gonna love me more (yeah, yeah, yeah) Oh, gonna love me more (gonna love me more) (Oh) oh, gonna love me more
This is me while working, my cat Sushi joining me in my press conference.
Photo by CallMeCreation.com
The weekend is soon here. Saturday we will stick near our apartment because there will be a gigantic traffic jam as people will be gathering in Makati CBD, and the stage for the Leni x Kiko Grand Rally will be located at Ayala Ave cor Paseo de Roxas. I think this will attract one million people and will spill over to Edsa. The whole of Makati CBD will be clogged—there will be a domino effect so everything else is going to be frozen.
I wanted to go there, but my hotel reservations came a week earlier and I don’t have room in my budget this month for another staycation in the CBD area. My sister said it’s difficult to attend these rallies because you have no place to pee, it’s hot, and parking is a nightmare. My fear of Covid is winning over my FOMO (fear of missing out). My kids and I will just probably bike around with Leni x Kiko posters all over us.
And these text spams by Marcos? I fight back…
HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! I enjoy trolling them.
I had an hour-long phone conversation tonight with my high school batchmate based in Japan since we are doing this personal computer donation drive for our high school as part of our year-long alumni homecoming project/celebration culminating in December. Aside from this, I am part of the homecoming program committee. So my batchmate said, you are pretty busy, huh? You’re a single mom and a journalist and you’re doing this project. I said, there is so much shit I deal with or dealt with and I’d better channel this negativity into something positive.
Just like during the long lockdown, it was my personal crusade to help feed jeepney drivers who were out of work and street dwellers. I had facilitated milk donations to Aeta natives somewhere north using my corporate connections. I channel my frustrations and grief into something more positive, so I don’t have to think about the bad things. My worst enemy is my mind. He said I had very troubled sleep during those days. I sleep-talked in my sleep. He caught me praying in my sleep and calling out for God. He heard me call for my father in my sleep. My daughter also said she saw my hands in a prayer pose while I sleep-talked. That’s how hyperactive my brain is when I am disturbed.
Since I’m still nursing this dying heart (will hopefully soon go dead), my brain is going on overdrive again. My daughter said I sleep-talked the night when they slept in my room. I don’t know how to turn off my brain. It’s a blessing when I work since but a curse when I need to quiet down.
I can’t fucking sleep!
I need to exhaust myself. Because I lack sleep, I can’t exercise. I rode his bike this afternoon around the village to go to the university campus but I got dizzy because I only had three hours of sleep.
So better channel all this energy into little projects like our 25th alumni homecoming.
As a side note: I didn’t know I was a popular kid in high school. I was just doing my thing in those days: drama club, glee club, hanging out with friends, playing football, science contests and whatever. I realized only now when my high school batchmates whom I didn’t hang out with during those days gravitated to me for these homecoming projects I am heading. This batchmate whom I just talked to said I should try to reach out to some of our classmates to bring us together to solicit help since they are more likely to respond to me. Which is funny because I always thought no one liked me. I thought I was pretty horrible during those days: ugly, not smart enough, unpopular with boys, etc. Now 25 or so years after, I can say that it’s probably untrue. It was just my insecurity eating me up alive. Too bad, I might have been a happier teenager if I only had that knowledge.
