So we went to UP riding our bikes to buy vegetables. We are now on stage One Entire Week of Being Carless.
Everything was going well even though we went out at almost noon, so there was danger that we will get fried.
We went to Nomu, the milktea place beside Bahay ng Alumni.
When we were waiting for our teas, I heard a loud “pop!” And that sickening hissing sound.
The stupid thing here was I took the longer route going to the UP gate near Krus na Ligas. I told the girls to bike their way into Science while I walk with my bike and then we’ll just meet at the corner where we used to turn right going into Science.
I guess I was bad at giving them directions so we spent the better part of that hour trying to find each other. After several video calls, they finally located me at that corner where they were supposed to meet me.
When we finally agreed how to proceed, I let the girls bike to the Krus na Ligas exit while I walked again.
Long story short, the guy at the bike shop along CP Garcia Ave fixed my tire by changing the interior and said that I had a busted tire pin. Good thing I had extra money then to buy a new tire interior.
Then off we rode our bikes back home. Got home after four freaking hours.
Gee, I am so tired.
I need to buy more wicking running shirts from Decathlon if I am to do this again regularly.
I PROMISE I WILL EXERCISE MORE SO I WOULD NO LONGER BE FAT.
Meanwhile, my cats are having none of those stresses and are just chilling on my bed while I have my zoom meeting.
No more basura days because the month is halfway gone and I need to push the team to chase stories. Myself included. I have an interview tomorrow and I must process my travel plans, book tickets and hotel.
And damn it, the rains are already here! We are having heavy rains in the afternoon everyday. I guess camping in the mountains this coming weekend is already out of the question. I checked the NOAA satellite view, there’s no typhoon or low pressure area; it’s pure southwest monsoon, or what looks like it.
It came really early. Drats.
Went around the village this afternoon for errands and had Twin A’s gear shifter and brakes changed. Hopefully, it won’t rain as meeehhhh, according to weather.com it would be thunderstorms for the rest of the month. So I guess the best bet is to go to my hometown this weekend to bike, even if it’s raining, it’s perfectly fine. I actually like cycling (and playing football) under the rain when I lived there.
We also went to the girls’ school to get their report cards. I’m happy to say that their GWAs are above 90. They have a fighting chance to pass the UP high exam. They need to have this kind of GWA from 5th Grade to first two quarters of 6th Grade and high entrance test scores to pass. I’m keeping my fingers crossed.
I remember when I was their age, I needed to keep my GWA above 90 as well but my internal target was 92-95. Sometimes I messed up, sometimes I hit the target…But I don’t remember studying as much as my classmates who were also in the honor roll. Like they even had pie charts of their daily study schedule whereas I was just winging it 🤣. I guess if I really studied hard back then I would have been one of the “bright kids” that the teachers loved. But that wasn’t me. I had too many things going on (extra-curricular activities and socializing) that’s why I was always distracted.
Of course, I won’t tell my kids this. 😂
And when I got to UP high, I told my parents I promise I will pass the UP College Admission Test, but let me have fun in high school. So I did. I was just an average kid among the the “bright” ones because I wanted to be just that. I didn’t want to bother with being on top of the class because… I don’t know. I wanted to pursue other things like theater, glee club, sports, and social life. I was a popular kid back then but I wasn’t cool enough to be the “It” girl.
I was qualified to take the Advanced English class but I skipped the screening exam one summer because I was vacationing with my cousins in our parents’ hometown. Well, it turned out ok in the end because none in our batch’s Advanced English became writers or journalists. I think it boils down to grit and guts + skills in pursuing such goals. So in the end I didn’t lose much for not being in any advanced classes before but I had rich life experiences. Like I missed screening exams but that summer (and the following summers) we hiked regularly on the mountain to have a beautiful view of Taal Lake and West Philippine Sea whenever we were bored, bathed in a pool of spring water, we made lifelong friends with the children of our parents’ neighbors and classmates, reconnected with distant relatives, and grew closer to our grandparents, aunts and uncles. We had so many escapades that I wouldn’t exchange for any academic recognition when I was in high school.
I only got back to being serious with my academics when I was in college. I think that was the only time I did study, but I still didn’t have good study habits because I loved winging it since I still had a lot going on. I remember going around campus with just a ballpen and a steno notebook. I only had a few pesos in my pocket. I was a good note-taker but my notes were chronologically ordered. A normal human being would arrange it according to subject/course, but not me. So my classmates got confused when they photocopied my notes 😂 Little did they know I typed my notes into word documents at home and saved them into little diskettes in rainbow colors. I think that’s how I studied back then, that’s how I can afford to wing it.
I also remember going around campus in loose jeans, tank top, baseball cap and hard ground football boots like the one below so I don’t have to bring too much when I played in the field every afternoon.
I deliberately dressed like a boy because I was trying to be low key, to stave off male attention. I had been the subject of jealousy among some female classmates (spreading rumors and lies) because one heartthrob kept sticking with me because he found my company more enjoyable because there was no pretension on my part. I knew he wasn’t interested in me because he was courting a really girly girl on campus. It was just he was a theater major in the Philippine High School for the Arts (which could have been my track if I pursued it), we both watched Beavis and Butthead and Daria on MTV, and liked the same music, books, and movies. It was just… What can I say? The attention from other people was overwhelming. I also learned that there were guys who watched our scrimmage in the football field every afternoon because… I was really uncomfortable with that. So for a year I pretended I was a boy so I can continue with my carefree life.
We all had a very bad week (and bad next six years or so). But at least the UP Men’s Basketball Team gave us something to be happy about last night.
First championship since 1986.
And in 1986 a woman led the people to oust a Marcos. You know, hope springs eternal. I have a feeling Junior will not finish his term.
I’ve been supporting the UP Men’s for decades as a former Maroons player myself (football) with an ex-bf who was also a UP basketball player. My sister was also a Maroons, playing volleyball in the WNCAA. I know the struggles of UP athletes—underfunded but full of fighting spirit. And to win the basketball championship—the most watched and anticipated UAAP event—after 36 years of struggling is super sweet.
My friends and I had dinner and drinks in Makati last night. Three of us are international news wire editors and one is a former reporter who is now a mid-level government official. We all covered the Treasury at the same time so we had this deep bond that spanned more than 15 years. What was supposed to be an election crying session turned into a laugh trip dinner and drinks. We hardly talked about the election and we just picked up where we left off when we had our last get-together dinner in March last year.
Since K had his appendix taken out a few months ago, he told us about his experience and the lingering horrific pain of having a catheter pulled out. 🤣 We three women agreed that catheter pain is what we remembered most during our own surgeries. Catheter > epidural needle. 🤣 I told them that pain relievers don’t work on me and I have a weird relationship with anesthesia. My dentist is forever frustrated with that. Even my anesthesiologist was surprised and alarmed when I was awake, talking, and still felt “something” during my gall bladder operation. I clearly remember asking her, “Why am I still alive?” when I wanted to ask why I was still awake 🤣 she hiked my anesthesia to put me back to sleep. When I woke up from surgery, I was on a higher dosage morphine drip.
Our conversations have changed from year to year and now we’re talking about hospitalizations and health. Gee, we’re old 😂
K asked me how I was since my anxiety attack in Feb. I said I’m already fine and that recognizing and accepting that J was just truly evil that’s why I went through all that shit is part of my healing process. And art therapy. I may not yet be healed but I’m much better—to the extent I had been off alprazolam for more than a month.
We were like Cinderella and had to break up the party at 12 midnight. Three of us are moms while K has a strict sleep and gym schedule.
Since I knew it’s going to be difficult with kids in tow, we opted to have a biking campaign around the village and UP campus.
First we washed our bikes and oiled them. We went to the vulcanizing shop and bike shop to change the interior tube of Twin A’s front wheel.
Something’s wrong with the gear shifter in Twin A’s bike so I’m going to have it replaced tomorrow before we bike to another venue.
We were looking for the street food vendor near Oblation but it was already very dark and we couldn’t see them. We proceeded to Rodic’s near Bahay ng Alumni and had a quick dinner. The ambulant vendor-kid there was appealing to us to buy his heavy rice-based snacks. I felt bad so I bought one and I gave it to the other kid who was begging for food. Then the vendor-kid gave me Leni stickers. I gave him more money in exchange for the stickers.
We went around the community this afternoon and evening with this.
I wanted to be there but as a mother of asthmatic kids, I cannot compromise their health by contracting Covid. I hope they’re all safe.
Yesterday, National Artist for Music Ryan Cayabyab initiated a flash mob at PowerPlant Mall in Rockewell. I am loving that artists are lending their talent for Leni.
We went to UP today because the girls finished late with their review. We didn’t have enough time to go to Intramuros before the sun sets, so we just decided to have long walks for exercise in UP–the nearest open space. Since today is Good Friday, we were just in time for the carroza procession of the statues of saints in black and the Santo Entierro (dead Jesus). Traditionally there would be a mass before 3 pm afterwhich the Catholic church will go dark after the last carroza enters the church gates after the procession.
We watched this kind of procession in Pampanga in 2019 when we went to see the actual crucifixion of a man, which aas his annual panata (pledge).
They stationed themselves at the amphitheater while I had one lap around the oval to have my exercise.
Then we stayed at Quezon Hall so I can do my stretchings until the sun went down.
Tonight they’re staying with their dad and will just come back in the morning to clean their bikes so we can drive to Intramuros or Baywalk and bike there.
My exercise was short so I continued my workout at home.
My yoga mat is still dirty I ought to clean it tomorrow. But my freshly vacuumed bedroom floor will do for now.
This is a love letter to myself (and my girls when they get to read this in the future), reminder that I should take care of my body not because I need to attract men but to make me feel good and to protect myself from non-communicable diseases. Diabetes runs in my family and my father died of diabetes complications. I don’t post such photos on social media but posting this on my nameless blog is like an accountability to myself and for my girls to read when I’m already gone.
So tomorrow, Sabado de Gloria, we clean and oil our bikes and off we go to the Old City to see old churches. All the saints’ statues and even the cross will be draped in black cloth until the Easter salubong (Mary Magdelene meeting the Risen Christ) at dawn.
My father would have been spending his final days drinking all these concerts. He would have been watching the lost clips of The Beatles, Everly Brothers and Simon and Garfunkel. He would have been discovering NPR Tiny Desk Concerts. He would be watching Sting’s versatility with the guitars and listening to his voice that doesn’t seem to age.
He would have been watching with me live concerts that were inaccessible to us before Youtube came along. Youtube was founded a few months before he died in 2005. Internet speed then was barely 512kbps; the videos would have been forever buffering. That would have pissed him off.
Our love for music came from my father. People always told me that he went around town with a guitar strapped to him. He was part of a “combo”, or in today’s language, a band. One of the reasons why my mother went nuts over him. When we were growing up, we were always surrounded by music. I remember he and my brother made some huge DIY wooden speakers (which looked like the cahon (beatbox used in acoustic performances). They put together our sound system that involved amplifiers, microphones, and cords. Meters and meters of cords. Tape decks. He justified the expense by saying that I kept on joining singing contests that’s why we needed those (LOL!).
One time when we were in high school, at the height of alt-pop rock and grunge, my younger sister learned the guitar. She asked if she could have one. That afternoon my father came home with a guitar on his back. He just needed an excuse to buy himself a new guitar because he smashed the last one we had. All first three children had piano lessons but I was the only one who stuck with it for a couple of years. We three girls played in a rondalla (originally from medieval Spain) in elementary school. My younger sister and I played the 14-string bandurria while my older sister played the guitar. I can also play the 12-string octavina. Playing those were brutal on my fingers that I had very thick callouses for years. Tuning these things every time we played was a pain. 14 strings! And almost every other week the number “0” string would snap and I often had to go to the store and stock up. Because of that I learned to string these instruments. I can string a guitar! I also learned how to tune strings by ear without those electronic devices that most people use nowadays.
So when my girls picked up the ukelele, it was easy for me to learn it (in just one night) and I know how tune it (hello Youtube!).
I was always at the piano when I still lived there. My neighbors suffered whenever I learned a piece by oido (Spanish for “by ear”) because I would repeat and repeat the song until I got it right. I have little patience for learning a song by reading notes because published transcriptions came too late and I wanted to learn the latest song that caught my ear as soon as possible. Learning the power chords was invaluable. I have yet to master the diminished and augmented chords but I no longer have the time and patience.
When I left my parents’ home, I lost my access to a piano. It was only in 2016-ish i was able to buy myself a Roland keyboard as I promised myself I would. Now my problem is timing because I have neighbors and I have to be conscious of their working/waking hours…
I wish Youtube existed then for my father. He would have been like me now, drowning in concerts.
We weren’t able to ride our bikes yesterday because it rained hard but we were back on the saddle this late afternoon because I was already unproductive.
I won’t be able to bike tomorrow since I would be doing some grocery shopping. My freezer is already empty.