Happy Holidays! But first, let me tell you about...

I have now turned on my Out-Of-Office message once again (I did so too earlier this month) and couldn’t believe that it’s already Christmas in three days!

I have finished my remaining tasks before the weekend so I thought I should blog as I haven’t written anything here since September. Not that I miss it, I really don’t. But I thought I should just write something for the very few of you who still occasionally checks this site.

So, whatever happened to me since?

Nothing much happened in October. At least not anything worth mentioning.

I had my second tattoo last November. It’s smaller than my previous tattoo and I had it behind my right ear. It’s a single rose wreath and it’s done by the same artist who made my orange cat tattoo.

It’s strange that this teeny tattoo, which is just in black and white ink, was more painful than my first one. I now believe that tattoo placement matters when one is considering what is most and least painful. Nevertheless, I was such a trouper. My pain threshold can embarrass an average man’s.

The thing though is that the artist was an hour late for my appointment, and I was forced to wait outside their condominium unit. Now, this is nothing like the posh condominiums in Makati where there are nice lobbies and waiting areas (Don’t believe me? Check the reviews) so I instead waited helplessly along the dark corridor of the floor sweating and all. I think I caught something because only a day after that I had one of the worst, lingering cough ever. 

I never had the common cold, I just started feeling tired and weak all of a sudden then followed by debilitating body pains. The kind that would make you question your entire existence. I had low-grade fever next, but nothing that a regular paracetamol couldn’t relieve. After that was the worse cough ever that it’s almost like the cough I had when I had COVID, only that this is much more progressive and much more a pain in the you-know-where.

By the next weekend, I forced my body so we could watch E.A.T. live at the TV5 Media Center (I booked it, so I had to be present). This was our second time because we were there on kuya’s birthday last October. It was more fun this time because so much has happened and my younger brother Chito even won 5,000 pesos on the studio audience raffle.  

The next week was my birthday week, but I’m still feeling under the weather. I was hacking like crazy, almost struggling for breath, that by the eve of my birthday on December 5, I decided to get myself checked.

I wasn't really in a hurry, so I took a jeepney ride instead of my usual taxi (or Grab) ride to Makati. The jeepney was quite crowded and I sat beside two men. I was carrying my tiny backpack, which I usually wear on my front for easy access and so that it'll be safe from pickpockets.

I got off the jeepney later on and passed by the drugstore to buy a bottled water. When I opened my bag, that’s when I discovered that my wallet and iPhone were BOTH GONE! 

I realized too late that the man beside me was in cahoots with three others. No wonder they all got off almost at the same time (two got off first, then when the jeepney turned towards the highway, the other two followed).

I feel like keeling over upon realizing that. I don’t have money left in my bag as everything—even my loose change, are inside my wallet. All my credit cards, ATM cards and IDs are gone, including all my money which I plan to spend the next day to treat my family and friends on my birthday.

While so distressed, I snapped out of it and hailed another taxi to go back home because I had to call my bank to block my credit cards and ATM cards. I was crying inside the taxi because this is the first time something like this has ever happened to me and the fact that it happened on the day before my birthday was an even bigger blow.

When I got home, I asked my younger brother to pay for the taxi outside while I called my bank’s hotline. It’s a good thing that emergencies like this are being prioritized and routed to a line with almost no queue, that I was able to block everything in a matter of 5-10 minutes. I also called my service provider’s hotline to deactivate my SIM card and bank apps on my phone.

I feel bad for all the pictures and videos that were saved on my iPhone. I don’t have an iCloud account, so all of those are lost forever. I feel so bad about losing the phone itself because it was a high-ticket purchase and I have no plans of buying something as expensive again. 

That night, I got a notification that my iPhone was at an address in Baclaran, Parañaque.

F*ck that.

Since all my cash were gone and my other funds frozen, my kuya felt really bad for me that he offered to lend me money so at least I could still celebrate my birthday as planned. I declined. Honestly, I’m not in the mood to celebrate all things considered. I’m just down and out. I mean, who wouldn’t?

I tried to think back on what went wrong and what I did differently. I usually don’t take out my wallet and iPhone while inside the jeepney, but this time I did both. I opened my bag and afterwards placed both on top, instead of at the bottom of my bag which is what I’d normally do. I thought that since I’m wearing the backpack on my front, and hugging it even, my things are safe inside. Now that I think of it, there was really that opportunity for the men to single me out because of it. 

I kid you not, I didn’t feel anything apart from the guy squeezing himself on the seat beside me. I can tell that they are seasoned hustlers because the pickpocket even managed to close the zipper of my bag that is why I didn't suspect anything.

My birthday was spent queueing at Globe to have my SIM card replaced. I even had to submit an affidavit for this and it’s good that my younger brother took care of it as he has friends in City Hall. Kuya insisted on giving me cash and I didn’t turn it down anymore because I realized I needed it to run errands that day. 

When I got home, my family were all waiting for me. Kuya bought me a cake and my cousin gave me pancit. I even have a church friend who sent me some cash through kuya (to my surprise) upon seeing my IG story mentioning it. I mean, she didn’t have to, but she did. And I am thankful for her kind gesture.  

Kuya had no problem lending me his spare phone (my Huawei phone was already given to my mom when I had my iPhone), but of course, I preferred having my own phone for personal reasons. Accompanied by my brother, nephews and cousin Chi, I bought a midrange Samsung phone on installment. 

I’m back to my Android era. 

While this incident sent me to a financial ruin that I would feel for months, somehow I handled this bad luck better than anyone would. It didn’t take me so long to realize that even with such tremendous loss, I still have a lot of things to be thankful for. For one thing, I wasn’t hurt—as it’s not uncommon that foiled pickpockets resort to stabbing or hurting the victim out of panic. I was able to get over it rather quickly for I am reminded that things happen for a reason. This might be a costly mistake for me, but lessons are learned.

***

We had our office holiday party on the 10th which was held at the SMX Convention Center. The last time we had it in this venue was in 2019, pre-pandemic.

I still have a bad cough, so I didn’t bother dressing up to the nines. I just wore an all-black cotton dress and my favorite pair of sneakers. When you’re my age, it’s already comfort over style. Besides, I’m not about to pit myself against younger, prettier colleagues. I’m just there to see familiar faces (most I have not seen since the lockdown), for the food and the raffle.

Three days before Christmas, I’m still nursing my chronic cough. That is, even if I was prescribed a strong antibiotic two weeks ago. While it eased a little, I’m still suffering from this nagging cough.  Another doctor suggested I just hydrate, and didn’t prescribe me anything else.

COVID cases are once again on the rise, that we have another family casualty because of it. I don’t think what I have is COVID though, but more probably bronchitis considering I have no other symptoms.

It would be a lot better Christmas if I feel better. I hope to have that as my Christmas miracle for this year. 

Going loca over Luka

At my age, I’m not very comfortable using the word “crush” anymore to describe someone I really like because I feel it’s the kind of feeling only teenagers get. Even for me, it’s kinda cringy already. 

But I will always have that giddy fangirl heart. These days, my fangirl heart beats only for the point guard of the Dallas Mavericks: Luka Dončić.

Now before you all go “Que Horror!” and remind me of the 23-year age difference, hear me out: I’m not a potential cougar at 46. I may have a crush on him, but I’m under no romantic, sexual delusions whatsoever—as what I unabashedly have before with my other celebrity crushes such as the likes of the Colins Farrell and Firth, Michael Fassbender and Chris Evans. (Yes, I fantasized about meeting and eventually marrying them). 

To simply put, I just really, really like Luka because he gives me the tingly, giggly, butterfly-ish feeling that I don’t get to feel often since I became a midlifer.

Besides, I don’t think I’ll ever be in a degree of devotion that will lead to some sort of a worship syndrome and obsession towards a Gen Z celebrity like Luka. I think I’m old enough to keep myself grounded and be a mature fan who just highly admires him. With his stature, I’m pretty sure he had millions of die-hard fans from the first day he set foot on court and I am no match compared to them. Frankly, I don’t think Luka himself would give me the time of day being that I’m not as ardent and fervent as the others that would watch him live on stadiums and follow his every move.

See, if you claim to be a fan of an athlete, others gauge it by regular game attendance, stalwart dedication and loyalty. I fall short on these since I’m relatively a new Luka fan, and I don’t think I can keep up with the diehards.

I loved basketball growing up but I wasn’t exactly an NBA fan. The last time I was invested was during the championship games of Miami Heat and Dallas Mavericks in the 2011 NBA Finals because I was then a fan of Dirk Nowitzki. After that, my interest in basketball just died down slowly with their absence in the succeeding playoffs and when teams like the Golden State Warriors dominated the Western Conference. 

Luka came to NBA at a time when I didn’t care much about basketball anymore. The first time I saw him was in a fan-made video of him seemingly flirting with a female referee: “[I'm] fouling in love with you” sometime during the 2020-2021 NBA season. He’s cute and all that, but I thought he was just a pretty face because I never saw him play (this was the pandemic, and I don’t watch NBA unless it’s the playoffs or the finals). I was too out of touch that I didn’t even know that Luka was the Rookie of the Year for the 2018-2019 season and a franchise leader for the Mavs. 

Even so, when my brothers would watch the NBA games, I’d always look for Luka, which of course won’t be there since his team never reached the finals. 

Then the FIBA Basketball World Cup 2023 was held recently here in Manila. My first question as the main opening ceremony drew near was, “Is Luka gonna be here?”. I was told that he won’t because his team, Slovenia, belongs to another group that will be playing in Okinawa Arena, Okinawa City. 

However, Slovenia got in the Quarterfinals and the games will be at the MOA Arena. By this time everybody who knew of my crush on him was telling me about it, but when I saw that the ticket price for the game, (to be anywhere within a fair distance from him) is between 11k-14k pesos, I knew I won’t be able to afford it. 

So like most people, I settled on watching Luka play on TV. And from then on, that’s all I’ve been doing. Now I understand the “Luka Magic” everybody was talking about. More than his looks, I was drawn to his skills. He does have a phenomenal talent, something that he had since he’s young and playing for Real Madrid. I’d find myself watching videos of him until the wee hours and just love seeing his on-court reactions, spectacular passes and jaw-dropping shots. Watching him is like escapism to me because it’s fun and exciting. These days I’m lacking so much of that.

Luka may be known as a big complainer and many had already expressed concerns about his on-court temper, but even his outbursts are strangely appealing to me. He’s so damn fine he’s almost faultless, my goodness. When others see it as temper, I see it as passion.

Now before some of you rain on my parade and remind me that I shouldn’t have this bazodee feeling for someone as young at him (He’s only 24, for Pete’s sake!), know that I am well aware of that. I even joked that his father, Sasa Dončić, is almost the same age as I am, that maybe I should go for the dad instead (LOL). And if you tell me that he has since been engaged to his long-time girlfriend, Anamaria, let me tell you that I’m rooting for them and I actually find them gorgeous as a couple.

I have the ain’t-no-way-I-have-a-chance-celebrity-crush but if it makes my day so much better, what could be so wrong with it? 

I mean, how could I not with that smile?

Oldie but Goody

Photo by Daphné Richard on Unsplash

Thank God for my gene pool because even if I’ll be turning 47 this December, I still don’t look like someone my age. That is not to say that I only look like I’m in my 20s either because I don’t. 

The forties are creeping in, more conspicuous than ever before. I just had my hair bleached today because grey hairs are peeking faster these days (my first time to ever bleach my hair and I botched it, BTW). 

While I can’t be considered “chubby”, I’m slightly paunchy. It became easier to keep the weight rather than lose it. Meanwhile, my double chin occupies about 30% of my face and no amount of contouring can hide it anymore.  It looked like Bibendum is on my face, which is what keeps me from taking close-up selfies lately because it shows no matter the angle. Barbie arms and collar bones are a thing of the past and I am only reminded that I had those once-upon-a-time looking at my old pictures.

Filling out online forms can be quite a slap in the face because I had to scroll all the way down when looking for my birth year which is 1976. It kinda reminds me of that Big Wheel on “The Price is Right”.

I was part of the last batch of Gen Xers so I well remember the analog world. When I tell younglings that I submitted typewritten term papers in high school and had taken typing and stenography subjects back in the day, they incredulously look at me as if I’m a Martian. Everything I know about Microsoft Word and Excel is all self-taught because my computer subjects then were MS-DOS and WordPerfect. Then again, it’s no surprise that we are tech-savvy in spite of, as Gen Xers are known to be resourceful and self-sufficient.

Mention “Post Malone” and I’d go, “Who?!”—which is very much like that old tita you know before who said the same thing in the very same tone when you talk about Chumbawamba. I no longer appreciate the songs that the younger people are into now, even if it’s a Taylor Swift song (Oh boy, I’ll get a lot of flak for this), for I simply just can’t relate to it anymore. I can be inside an elevator with a famous Korean or KPop celebrity, and I wouldn’t even know. The only reason why I know of things these days is from watching Tiktok and from my Gen Z nephews who school me when it comes to what’s cool and current.

Picture this: If the movie “Back to the Future” was made today and Marty McFly goes back 30 years, that will be the year 1993. Marty will be seeing me there as a high school senior. If my late boyfriend Alex slip by the pearly gates and was born again on the same year he died, he is now a 21-year-old young man (“Chances Are” reference there). I may not realize the passing of time as it happens, but when I think about it, it’s just mind-blowing. The years from 2010 onward went by so quickly like a flipping Rolodex.

I’m way past getting drunk and meeting people in bars because I prefer dining alone or with my closest friends. 9 PM is rather late for me and you can’t drag me anywhere since it became my official curfew. Regular Friday nights are spent in bed snacking on Coke and chips while watching shows on the Crime Investigation Network.

Dating has become much more difficult, for I’m no longer as interested in meeting men (except if you look like Luka Dončić then let’s talk). With my life experience, I have acquired a superpower: I can now see through men’s bullshit. Meanwhile, the very few who expressed interest and were persistent enough must really like me, because why would they even put up with a forty-year-old when there are much younger, prettier women around? So yes, I may be seeing somebody now who likes me, but we’re just chill ♡. These days it’s all about enjoying each other’s company because relationships are already hard as they come.

I no longer have the energy—and I don’t mean energy for doing chores, going out etc.,—but the energy to deal with other people’s negativity. I try to avoid them like the plague. But yes, I can be physically tired doing nothing, which can be very strange. 

I became very dependent on my reading glasses as I can’t see anything close to my nose without it. I started noticing my failing eyesight when I hit forty and it got worse in just a couple of years. Even looking at computer screen now, which is already about two feet away, is already blurrier too.

Don't get me started about the body pains. I can go on and on talking about it on a separate post. Just the past week, I woke up with a very painful groin pain on the left side. The good news is that I don’t think it’s anything serious, but more like muscle strain. For days I can’t do the sukhasana (Indian sit) or squat on the toilet bowl. Back pains are a common occurrence too that I got used to it. Every night I reek of Tiger Balm and I have Poy-Sian within reach. When I get up from bed in the morning, my bone creaks like an old floorboard.

My freaking body is telling me I’m not young anymore. Doctor visits are getting to be more frequent, whether it’s for my pre-existing illnesses or something new like plantar fasciitis.

In the blink of an eye, my nephews are no longer babies anymore. I will not be surprised if I wake up tomorrow and both are taller than me. What’s more sad to think is that in a few year’s time, I won’t be as cool to them as I am now.

I see some of my former classmates are already sending their kids off to college. While I’ve stopped comparing my life to those of my contemporaries knowing we lead different lives, it seems automatic to me already to compute for the year when their kid was born and think what I was doing that very same year. 

I can’t even say I’m “getting old” for I’m at that point already. I never dread celebrating my birthdays until I reached 45. That’s when everything sinks in. The pandemic may have contributed to my mixed feelings about aging, but it’s also the fact that I can no longer deny my actual age. It was when I stopped feeling young. Humbled by this realization, there was that acceptance that I’m already past my prime. Very sobering. 

Getting underhanded comments about my age didn’t help, but I’ve learned to just ignore it. Sometimes I would tell them that it’s a relief to reach this age, because I know for a fact that I won’t be around when this world has gone to the dogs with all the craziness we see in the society now. 

Then again, I will never be less grateful for the gift of years. Just recently, a female grade school classmate suddenly died of stroke. I mean, they say no one dies before their time, but at 46? When that happens you tend to think of your own mortality when people your age (or younger) dies. When you are faced with that reality you learn to be more thankful despite of. 

I’m old, I know, but it’s okay. The good things about aging still outweigh the bad. Besides, all of us are heading there anyway so I might as well enjoy the roller-coaster ride.