Forgive me dear reader, as I have not written a short story in a long time...

Once upon a time, there was a wind. Savoring its freedom, it flew, tirelessly atop landscapes, reaching wondrous lands far and wide. It was happy, because it was in the company of glistening leaves that it collected from all over, from rare beautiful places. Such that these glistening leaves were rare and beautiful themselves. These kept the wind happy.

The wind endlessly traveled, with great speed, preoccupied with the dream to reach all of the wondrous lands it has been told of. And it was glowing inside, because of the glittering beauty that it kept. And with pride the wind went on hopping, breezing, leaping from town to town, through tree to tree. It felt fulfilled, and beautiful. Because it knew it was happy, and that it left glistening waves of that happiness at its wake.

And so on it fluttered, smiling, laughing, cheered on by the laughter of her glistening tail. Free. Now this is what freedom feels like, it thought. And so it sped on, whipping faster through and through.

Until it felt the urge to rest, and thought that it would be good to just float along with her glistening companions. But to its surprise, her beautiful tail was no longer there. No glitter, no laughter, there was just the cold echo of silence. How could this have happened? The wind twirled in panic. They must have dropped somewhere. Maybe it was going too fast for the leaves to have caught on. At that moment, the wind felt purposeless. It felt no reason for being. And most of all, it was overcome with the realization that it was undeserving of the glistening beauty. Because it failed to care for it, failed to keep it, failed to prove that it was worthy. Fate has been too kind to give it such beauty, and yet the wind, in its haste, threw it away. Without even knowing that it did so.

And so this wind, consumed by regret, flew down, descended into the darkness of the trees, into a depth unknown to it. But no matter how it wove in and out the maze, it could not find the glistening leaves it so loved. Not a single one. They were lost, and our wind sunk into the deep shadows of despair.

And then the forest felt no breeze. No flowing sense of glitter or joy. Soon, rain fell from a motionless sky. As the wind was consumed by the damp, dark ground.

Rape : A Love Story by Joyce Carol Oates

Seems interesting, doesn't it.

This month is unlike any other. I couldn't remember shopping for so many stuff. I am absolutely broke. Remember that budget I had that was only enough for one more week of food, gas and parking? Gone. It's a good thing that my dad gave me this pre-paid card worth 500 bucks of gas (free from the renewal of the car insurance). I went to a another sale.

Powerbooks is on sale. Until the end of the month, it's 20-70% off on books. The bookworm in me went berzerk. And of course the shopaholic could not wait until payday. Keeping in mind that I had very limited cash (and naked of any credit powers), I limited my purchases to two books:

The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova
The Name of the Rose by Umberto Eco

The plot just lures. Now I just have to finish The Athenian Murders as fast (but savoringly so) as I can.

I didn't want to get up this morning. I wanted to just roll in my bed, hugging my fluffy pillow, and savor the cool morning air. It's just a few more minutes until the next snooze alarm goes off. And then the next... and then the next... It will be a good 20 minutes of snoozing and savoring until I finally get up and face the impending terrors of the day. How resigned could you get so early in the morning.

I can't escape it. Monday. Another day. Another hell of a day.

SALE. The word is the work of the Devil. It came direct from the dictionaries of hell. At the sight of it you lose all sense of good judgement. In the process, you lose the concept of who you're with (particularly your boyfriend who ends up sitting in a couch crowded by other forgotten boyfriends). And in the end, you lose money - a lot of it. And yet you're deliriously happy at being poor.

I am a self-confessed sucker for sales. I know that they are evil, and yet I am drawn. I am particularly taken by discounts 50% and above (I'd like to think that I have some form of discipline). How about the beautifully crafted temptations of "final reduction sale", "closing out sale" or my equivalent of a sumptuous chocolate cake: "everything must go". Your brain is then literally in a debate - I must go! No, you shouldn't! But I must! No, you have more important things to do! But... But... But!!! You'd be throwing your weight back and forth as you have one foot through the store and the other planted outside. In the end, you bite the apple. And then there are the times you are flat broke or you've already gotten your fill of shopping the last weekend, thus you KNOW that you could NOT sin again... but then you still voluntarily go into the gates of another weekend sale. That's like eating the whole apple even without the snake.

It is hypnotizing. Block letters in red and white (or sometimes yellow). The pile of clothes or shoes you must rummage through. It's a challenge calling to you. It's probably the closest thing shopaholics could relate to sport. It's combat. It's competition. It's one against many. There's that glowing sense of achievement when you get the last pair of shoes and it fits you perfectly. Especially if the woman beside you is obviously dying because she didn't get it. HA! You think, you have yet to prove yourself you little padawan of the sale world! When I walked out of a sale carrying three paper bags of shoes, I felt like a warrior princess (Xena perhaps) arriving from battle carrying the heads of my opponents.

And what is a trophy if you can't show it off. Wear the new shoes at work. Wear all the new pants, shirts and accessories if not together for maximum impact (given that they all match), on an installment basis (to give the sense of number). Wear all of that with a beaming smile that just says "Come on, ask me how much I got it for". Because the price matters. No matter how much the cumulative amount it cost you, how much lower your got your individual finds for spells the difference between the crown and the complimentary sash.

It's just a four letter word. But man, it wrongs you like anything. We know it and yet... well, we all know what the consequences are like.

Nothing substantial happening in my life right now. Apart from the usual stress of deadlines and brainstormings. And apart from my depressurization method of shopping - which gets quite depressing later on when I realize that I have to scrimp like anything as I inch towards the next payday. Yesterday I bought three pairs of shoes from Schu (SALE - the word is the work of the devil). And today I bought a cute little mini skirt from Greenhills. Apart from that, well, there's really nothing much. Sense the rambling theme going on?

Oh I also have to mention that unlike Jojo, I forgot to celebrate the 1st Birthday of this blog. So there. A 3-month belated happy birthday to me! Weeee! There. I have an excuse (a lame one though) for all the shopping that I've been doing.

That's it for now. I'll go watch some DVD's.

By Sheanne's request, I am posting one of the rare decent solo pictures I have of Chips (usually when towards a camera he's a clown). But he's still cute any way (haha, ang yabang parang stage mom).

Decent.

Clown.

Tama bang kinikilig na ako at this moment...

We celebrated Chips' birthday last Saturday. Now unlike my oh-so prepared friend Cat who's working her way up to domesticated goddess-dom with her mega celebration of her A's birthday, I again got lost amidst the hubbub of short-term memory and stress. The deal was that I wouldn't get him a gift. I would instead give him a hefty serving of Igado, an ilocano dish we prepare at home, for his little dinner-drinking party. But still, I wanted to give him something. I wasn't going to cook the dish anyway. I decided to get him a pair of fins for snorkling, since he broke his other pair and was absolutely devastated about it. The store has two branches known to me: Galleria and Park Square.

I wonder when I was going to buy the fins though. I, ever the procrastinator, decided to buy it the weekend before his birthday (also because that's when pay's out). I was with him on Saturday, so that gave me Sunday. Come Sunday - I completely forgot to go out. It was such a dreary day that I just sat at home, reading books. Oh and how time flies when you're reading books. So there. Attempt one - not even attempted.

So the next attempt would be during lunchtime or after work. If I get it at lunch, I could just hide it in the office (note: we carpool to work, so I'd have to wait for a day when I'd be bringing the car to bring it home). But lo! Lunch meetings galore from Monday through Wednesday. But lucky for me, we decided to bring separate cars on Wednesday. So I rushed all my paperwork (apparently not rushed enough), because when I got to Park Square, the store was closed. Demmit! I pan to the right. A bazaar is just about to close. Ka-ching! I ended up buying two belts... for myself. Attempt two - failed.

No other day during the week would be possible. Thursday and Friday we'd be carpooling again. So, it was the day of his birthday. The day of his birthday just so happens to be my cousin's birthday, who was having a little party at their condo on Pioneer (ah, so close to Galleria! Perfect!). After the party, I convince my parents to go to the mall for me to buy Chips' gift. And yes, I got them! Success! And to that, I also bought one skirt, two tank tops, and one pair of pants from Terranova plus black boots from Bass. They were on sale - come on. Attempt three - success to the nth power.

I really need to fix this cramming thing. I am so bad. After 5 birthdays with him you'd think that I'd learn my lesson. Maybe next year.

A book baton passed from Kuya Jeff. Readers unite!

Number of books on the shelves:
Shelf in attic: 200++
(if none of the old novels have been sold or thrown away)
Shelf on desk: 100++
(recent novels and an almost complete series of Nancy Drew Case Files)

Those that I own/bought: Hmmm. Difficult. Can't enumerate. Maybe around 60% is bought by me (or I've persuaded someone to buy it for me), the rest are hand-me-downs or gifts.

5 Last books bought:

1. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
2. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
3. The Dante Club (Matthew Pearl)
4. Conspirators (forgot author)
5. 100 Love Poems (Pablo Neruda)

Book/s I'm reading now:

1. Athenian Murders (Jose Carlos Somoza)
2. English-Tagalog dictionary

Last 5 books read (in no particular order):

1. The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
3. Coraline (Neil Gaiman)
4. Conspirators - "kinda" read. I gave up. The author incorporates the dialogue in mega-paragraphs. Not very reader-friendly. Buti nalang sale.
5. The Moth Diaries (Rachel Klein)
6. The Dante Club (Matthew Pearl). Since number 4 was just a "kinda" read.

Books I'll cherish (in no particular order):

1. My Dan Brown books.
2. The Dante Club. Mayee, I trust that it's still alive and well :)
3. Letters to a Young Poet (Rainer Maria Rilke).
4. Compiled Poetry (Emily Dickinson) in hardbound.
5. Seinlanguage by Jerry Seinfeld. Ahh, sarcasm.
6. The Little Book of Crap. Chips gave this to me as an i-miss-you present. How apt.
7. My Witching Hour and Lasher (Anne Rice) hardbound versions.
8. Reader's Digest hardbound almanac of "Unexplained Mysteries"
9. The Watcher's Guide: Buffy the Vampire Slayer (Golden & Holder)
10. The Sunnydale High Yearbook (Golden & Holder)

Passing the baton to: Juana. Apester. Jojo. Asphaire. Sapphire.

I got my eyes checked this Saturday. My progressive near-sightedness again... well, progressed. Every year, my eyes get blurry-er. This year, my left eye gained a hefty 100 more and my right eye 50. That makes my left eye around 650 and my right 350 thereabouts. I read somewhere that above 600, you're considered legally blind. My left eye is useless, I believe. Still, the eye doctor person opted to just increase the right eye and keep the grade on my left. Because when she made me use that ugly contraption testing the full grades, it seemed like I was walking on water (and probably because she figured that it was useless anyway). I hope this adjustment will be enough to keep me focused.

Last night, sporting my new right-eye contact lens, I finished a book - Neil Gaiman's Coraline. A twisted story of sorts. A very good one hour spent. It looks like one of those Sweet Valley Kids books - big fonts and drawings. A website called it a "creepy tale for children of all ages". Creepy is the word. For children? Well, if your kid was as creepy as creepy gets, maybe. Or maybe if you want to scare your kid into being more appreciative and loving to you as his/her mother, read this as a bedtime story.