random thoughts, musings and workings of a totally warped mind. tintin is a colorblind writer who paints,dreams of flying a kite along EDSA, teaches middle & high school writing & literature, and is the future mother of Kulay and Una Rosa Maria.

Monday, August 29, 2005

Kulas and I had a breakfast date at Mcdonald's Katipunan earlier. The city was splendid at 6am. Went home after, brewed my first cup of coffee while Kulas went off to the gym. I stayed home to work on my students' evaluation reports. Dozed off at around 11am and when I woke up, Kulas was back, staring at me lovingly (albeit mushily). The house looked glorious with the afternoon sun spilling in from the windows. It was yellow everywhere inside.

I am not writing about what I did today. This afternoon at around 5pm, I felt an inexplicable sense of, I don't know---loneliness? sadness? I don't know. I was ok the whole day. I told Kulas how I felt and I was comforted of course. But still, I have this feeling. I don't like it. I just don't like it. I don't even know what it is.

Could it be Nanay? She's been on my mind since yesterday. I even shared stories about her with Kulas over lunch. I miss her and wish she were still around. Could it be her?

Could it be you, Nanay?

How we lose ourselves is a puzzle,
a simple jigsaw with pieces too familiar
at times too common and small
that we think
everything fits
only to find out something is missing
in the end.

Like we lose pencils, even when we remember
we put it there,
a stash of receipts, crumpled grocery lists,
birth certificates, report cards—
we rummage through,
search under closets,
and everything just seems to be missing
or could it be
this staggering business
of losing things, keys, answers, faces,

losing selves, minds, hearts,
is really a game
we like playing
and losing
over and over.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

This afternoon, while deciding on getting those textbooks from National or not, I found myself wandering in an undiscovered section of Super Branch--biographies and current events. I was stalling, I suppose, that I even found myself at the crafts area, which is normally a part of my bookstore itinerary, mind you, and marvelled at The Essentials of Woodworking and Balloon Making in a Flash. Funny, I thought, how these books could actually cost a family's week-long food budget. But I digress.

I stared up the tall shelf mindlessly, picking random books when my eyes fell on a white hardbound book called I am a Pencil. It didn't scream at me the way most books are wont to do. It didn't beg for my attention. It was there in the shelf, so random, so common, so quiet yet I saw it. I knew I had to buy it. It's about Mr. Stope, a creative writing teacher telling stories about his students, their dreams, their words. I had barely enough to last me till the next pay day. What to do?

I had to leave the store thinking if it's meant for me, that book would still be there this weekend and I would know.


The in-laws are coming over for lunch next Sunday. Pressure! Kulas will cook his famous adobo and I'll make some pasta and salad. I have to fix the house and make it look like a housewife lives here.

Ha ha, funny, this morning Kulas and I had this over breakfast:

Me: Honey, next time please don't tell them about our 'domestic' issues, ok? Like you need to clean and defrost the ref na...

Kulas: ah yeah...

Me: yeah, di ba? They don't understand kasi eh...

Kulas: ....

Me: That I'm the padre de familia here... LOL


Kulas would sometimes call their cook and ask questions about cooking. Last week, we had dinner at the in-laws and the same cook said--to me and to the other help in the kitchen--"dapat turuan na natin itong magluto eh. Dapat ikaw ang magluto dahil ikaw ang babae at nang matuwa sa iyo ang mommy mo (Kulas'mom)..." I said, "bakit, ako naman ang naglilinis ah, nagliligpit, naghuhugas--lahat except cooking!"

I am lucky my husband is man enough to be managing the kitchen, a place in the house where the woman is traditionally in. But lady, life isn't just about gender roles here...

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

Spank me, this blog remains neglected.

Of course there are a lot of stuff to write about but I don't want to ramble on and on. I'm trying really hard to manage my time, discipline myself and get down to at least 1,000 words a day. It's hard, you know, yet I'm not complaining.

I love my job. Kina-career ko talaga so to speak. It motivates and inspires me despite all the havoc those kids wreak in class. One student wrote in her journal, "Ms. Tintin, si ___parang may magic...everyone gets quiet when he starts to speak..." What I would give to have that magic...

Ha ha. Those kids could be TOTALLY uncontrollable. It'll freak you out if you aren't used to it. Scratching your nails on the blackboard is the best option sometimes.


I'm supposed to be preparing for class now. 9PM actually feels like 2AM and I'm still awake. Gah, bat that I am, I have learned to appreciate the wonders of sleeping at 10PM. It's Edgar Allan Poe tomorrow, by the way. Feel free to sit in :)


Psycho-Emotional vampires are everywhere. I can't believe I allowed myself to be a victim today. No wonder I was SO tired by the time school ended. Fight, Tintin.

Oh yeah, Cris, it's the Waldorf you've been eyeing... :)


Take me away, will you?