Monday, July 07, 2008
you will have to know tagalag
I really don't know how to lay things gently on people. I usually wait for the most opportune moment. I don't have any spiel practiced. I generally know what I'm going to say. At the end of it all, the responses I get from the people I'm to talk to generally derail me from saying most if it. But I would evaluate myself to have at least said the gist of it.
You will have to know some bits of tagalog to understand the documented conversation of me telling my parents the plans I have been making with Chips (my boyfriend). I would imagine that I'd get rather tired translating every line. The plans involve the browsing of some real estate we could invest in for the "future". I came home armed with an envelope of brochures and computations. I really am liking this last one we visited, and per the computation, I would really have to prevent myself from going over a shopping allowance in order to pay for its monthly. I went in armed with a somewhat outlined spiel. But through the door, there they were - two of them, plus my cousin. I had planned to talk to just one of them first. But what the hey. Let's just spit it out.
"San ka nanggaling?" asks Dad.
Okay. Just spill. "Nag-ikot lang kami ni Chips..."
Come on, spill. "...sa mga condos and stuff."
"Naku!" says mom, on the couch. "Kakasal na ata ito!" (or something like that, her voice was too high pitched for me to comprehend)
"Mom," I say, "condo muna. Ang kasal, hindi pwede bayaran per month."
So I proceed to show my dad the brochures (because he's the more rational one). And he actually gave some good pointers. I neglected to say that we're looking to decide within the week, because the unit being given to us is one of the few left (it's a corner unit, on a floor with some garden thing). At this point, my mom insists we go look at The Fort because it's a nice area and stuff. My mom, typically is like a horse with blinders. She gets stuck on one thing and it's impossible to get her to change her mind.
"Isa lang ang banyo nya," dad notices.
"Ya, pero maganda sya - it's big. Not like yung ibang layout," I say.
"At second bedroom baka hindi naman namin gawing bedroom. Baka study. Or even closet... for all my shoes," I add.
My mom goes on high pitch again. "Hay nako paano kung nagka-anak na kayo!?! Kelangan mo na isispin yan. It's your future noh!"
"Moooom, ang layo pa nun!"
"Hay, it's the future."
"Maaa, we can always upgrade. At saka malayo pa yun."
I swear, mommy. My dad emails an agent that sent him some real estate quotations. I call Chips and tell him that I already told my parents. I wonder how his parents will react.
Sometimes bored. Most of the time oddly alive. Phobic of butterflies. Creatively suppressed. Hungry for coffee and shoes. This is my subconscious talking... at times interrupted by my reality.
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Jealousy, turning saints into the sea. Swimming through sick lullabies, choking on your alibis. But it's just the price to pay, Destiny is calling me. Open up my eager eyes 'cause I'm Mr. Brightside -- "Mr. Brightside" The Killers
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