Atypical Holidays
Friday, January 04, 2013 @ 4:59 PM | 0 comment(s)

Christmas: Pajamas and Paulo Coelho

Christmas 2012 was one of the saddest Christmases I ever had. It seemed like the usual traditional Christmas we Filipinos practice was left in history and became just plain, dead, long-forgotten tradition. I didn’t go to church for both the 24th and the 25th; I slept through 12:00 a.m. and welcomed the yuletide with a snore; I spent the remaining vacation days stuck in my grandmother’s house, in my pajamas all day, with the sound of pattering rain sitting shotgun with me in my The Winner Stands Alone journey. The great Paulo Coelho basically supplemented my every days with his thriller, a lunatic Russian millionaire, the world of fashion, films and fame, and the deaths of prominent Cannes figures. It was a good thriller; and I definitely learned a lot from it since I’m into media and I find the natural obsession for the Supers very interesting. The saddest thing, besides the season break of The Vampire Diaries, was the absence of my father.

I was really looking forward to seeing him and, I don’t know, playfully insult each other or something. I didn’t try going to his place since I was sure it’d be too awkward to handle, but I at least held on to fate that I might see and bump into him on the streets. That happened, but it was too dark to see anything at ten in the evening, and he was preoccupied, and okay, I actually didn’t know what to do. So that one-sided anticipation of chance meeting was painfully neglected. I miss him, really. But I can’t handle inconvenient family awkwardness; I’d dissolve from the universe.

In a nutshell: What I liked about Christmas 2012 was the fact that I spent it sleeping in between my beloved mother and my unusually sweet brother. And I met my first goddaughter Angel. And my nieces Sam and Orange and I saw a local movie. AND GREAT CRUSH TEXTED ME FOR THE FIRST TIME ON THE 24TH AND I DIDN’T DELETE IT BECAUSE OH MY GOD MY FEELS.


New Year: Glossaries

I spent my New Year’s Eve with my mother and my cousin Selene. For all it’s worth it was just a normal night, except for the scary bomb-like sounds from the neighbors. It was a normal night that I resorted to studying and reading; I scanned Broadcasting books I borrowed from my other cousin, wrote the terms found in the Glossary down in my trusty, battered green notebook (this notebook contains every trivia I find in different books, i.e. the 50 States and their nicknames, basic Spanish words, etc.); and made my bucket list for the new year (I stopped making resolutions the moment I realized that I’m such a lost cause). Near deafness, brain-pushing, tired right hand, a diminishing self-assurance – what a majestic way to welcome 2013!

What I loved about it? The fireworks, of course. And the news programs’ year-end wrap up of every issue that rocked the world. The fruits I get to eat without guilt (I don’t give a damn about guilt anyway). Jeff Canoy’s (a field reporter of a local news program) striped necktie and his I’m Having Fun Here In Eastwood aura. Jorge Cariño’s obvious jealousy because he’s stuck in the news center while his colleagues were out there partying. And the fact that it’s 2013 and the world didn’t end and new movies are coming out in the next months and that I’m out of the Teen Age Bracket this July (not sure if I should be happy or not).

In a nutshell: I’m really excited for this year. Screw the star forecasts saying it won’t be a lucky year for the Rooster babies. I want to break this Odd-Numbered Year Curse I’ve been having for the past years. I have my bucket list and I’d start from there. I will make this my year – I’ll meet Colton and Sam and Great Crush and be an almost-legit writer and get fantastic grades and read good novels and complete crosswords puzzle like my life and future depend on it.


Happy 2013! (Can someone teach me how to properly close a blog post? Anyone? Nobody? Err, okay. Pfft.)

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a woeful & chaotic diary since 071409