Tuesday, January 12, 2010

Have jacket, will go places

Tuesday, January 12, 2010
I live the simple life. I lounge around all day and only get up when my matey, a silly and clumsy girl I share an office table with, needs me. As long as I'm left to my own devices, I'm good.

Today, though, something happened. I was walking around the office with my matey, doing our usual errands, when we got called in by one of our supers. Lazy bum that I was, I tuned out of the conversation. After all, the girl I was with could handle the conversation baggage just fine.

Yada, yada, yada, Japan. Yada, yada, yada, 6 weeks. Yada, yada, yada, can I bring you with me. And more yada, yada, yada.

Wait, what?

At that point, everyone got excited. Above the ruckus that ensued, I mentally pieced the fragments of the conversation. "I'm going to Japan for six weeks. Can I bring her with me?"

Me. Getting invited to go to Japan for six weeks. In the winter season. Snow. Japan.

I waited for my mate's reaction. Though we've only been together for a couple of months, I knew that she had this great passion for anything Japanese. She reeks of Japan love. I mean, I spend my time in useful lassitude. She spends her time in front of a computer screen, sifting through anything that has a connection with Japan - anime, bento boxes, magazines, manga, sushi maker, tofu strains. She even sneaks a peek at those hentai stuff when she gets the chance. No wonder her computer is so slow these days. Probably some illicit virus found its way to her PC's drives or something.

Anyhow, I was surprised to see her so cool about it. She was even smiling and being helpful and all that. Prolly hiding all that disappointment inside. Beh.

The trip is not until next week, so we went back to our table. She was pretty silent. I wondered what was going through that weird little head of hers. Of course, she'd be thinking of all the Japan stuff she would be asking for as omiyage. Personally, I know she'd be wanting some of these stuff. I just hope she has enough hidden moolah to get them all.

Gurren Lagann's Viral figurine. Rawr.


Oodles, piles and columns of these...


...And even more oodles, piles and columns of these..

Something traditional like this kimono...


An inkstone would be nice too...

Still, it's not as if she's picky. I can bring back a stone and she would suck out all the Japan essence from the darned thing in no time.

Too bad, matey. You'd like it there, I know. I'm sure you'll go there someday and drool all you want. You may be the 'most promising' employee and all that, but this time, it's me they need there. It's winter, and everybody'll need a jacket or two. Don't worry, I'll give Japan your hellos.
Sincerely, your jacket

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

New Year's Eve Lunacy

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

While Parisians kiss under the Eiffel tower and New Yorkers count down at Central Park, Filipinos frenziedly jump at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve. Why, you ask? Because you will actually grow taller if you welcome the New Year mimicking the locomotive faculties of a toad being chased by a python. At least that’s what my grandma says. While growing up, I religiously jumped every year. Yes, I’m taller than the average Filipina, so does this mean it worked? Probably. But I’m sticking to genetics to explain my height.

Popular Filipino wisdom dictates you to do all the things that you’d want to be doing in the coming year on the stroke of midnight. This explains a lot of things, like why a lot of us go retro (polka dots, anyone?) or why only very few serve chicken for the noche buena feast (who’d want to be pecking on dirt for a living?).

When I was a kid, this scared me a lot. I mean, what if I had a sudden urge to, erm, move, and midnight found me grunting in the loo? That would mean the coming year had a lot of sh*t in store for me. Oh, no! A year-long case of diarrhea is too much. I was very careful with what I was thinking and doing during midnight.

I remember my aunt flouncing in front of me a few years ago, wearing a horrid white dress with polka dots. She told me she’d be lucky in the coming year, as the red dots signified lots of coins. Fate really loves symbolism, huh? I beg to differ auntie. They look more like bloody holes in my bank account. No, thank you. However, if she really believed in these things, my aunt should wear a dress with dollar bills printed all over it, presumably with Ben F.’s face in them. That would ensure fate cannot get you wrong. You want $100 dollar bills, baby.

My friend prepares a huge feast on New Year’s Eve, with a whole roasted pig (lechon), pans of custard (leche flan), cakes, chocolate coins, fruits, and so many other sumptuous dishes, all for… five people. Pigs apparently symbolize progress because they push forward, rooting themselves in the ground before moving. At exactly midnight, my friend and his family scatter coins all over their house, believing financial blessings will rain upon them. When I visited later that day, I quietly went around the house pocketing the coins. Yep, a very lucky start for me.

Prices of round fruits and anything with a remotely similar coloring to gold disappear fast during the holidays. Stores jack up the prices sky high, but everyone bites anyway. This association of round, circular edibles is not peculiar to Filipinos. Spanish revelers eat 12 grapes at the stroke of midnight. Italians consume round, flat lentils, while North Americans have black-eyed peas (no, they don’t wish for shiners in the year ahead).

I don’t believe in any of this baloney. After all, I’m an educated 5th generation Martian hell-bent on proving that fate is what you make of it.

If all of these are true, then the poor Filipino would be a myth. And Juan Tamad can be as lazy as he can get…if he stuffs himself full of roast pork and lentils while the clock strikes 12 on New Year’s Eve.