Due to the escalating prices of gas and other basic utilities and commodities, my husband has declared that air conditioner units (ACU) will no longer be turned on as if we are the Lopez's (Manila Electric Company major stock holders). All my kids complained as they have gotten used to turning on the air-conditioner units the moment they arrive home. Of course, I am irritated too. Why? First, I too prefer cool rooms where I need not sweat. Second, because my kids are suffering from the heat! I hate it when my kids are uncomfortable. For moms out there, I know that you know what I mean.

There is now an ongoing cold war between my kids and their dad. In order to pacify everyone, I did not really (only slightly) say on whose side I am on. I explained that we just have to adjust to the ACUs being on only at bedtime. No one is happy with the set up. Ethan (the 24/7 ACU user) complained that he is melting. Daughter # 2 said her asthma has acted up. Daughter #3 and #4 had thought of paying for their own energy consumption. For the past week the two had logged in their ACU usage. The log is actually posted on their door where their dad can see it - which he cannot for he refuses to wear corrective lenses. My son is not greatly affected for he only comes home on weekends, likewise daughter #1.

So, now, after a week of suffering from heat, did my husband actually saved money? I think so for there was definitely a marked drop in the ACU usage. But wait! Did I actually saved money in this no-ACU-usage-till-bedtime ploy? I certainly did not! Ethan got sick with cough and cold. Electric fan induced air does not suit him. The intensity of the cough forced me to buy a new nebulizer- for the old one conked out- which cost me 3,000 Php plus another 1,000 Php for meds. I had to buy two new electric fans at 1,300 Php. I now have watery eyes and itchy throat. I am about to get sick, for like Ethan,I have very low tolerance to the air turbulence created by an electric fan.

Someone... please turn on the air conditioner.

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I am bored! Bored as in I have nothing better and exciting to do but try to finish dropping 300 entrecards. Bored as in I keep on refreshing the pages of my sponsored post programs in the hope of finding an opportunity to do. Bored as in I have not had an intelligent-stimulating-neuron-jarring conversation for the past... ummmm... year! Bored as in there is nothing to excite me nor make me want to wake up all eager for a new day. For the longest time, the only thing that raises my heart rate is my jogging.

I am not unhappy. I am just bored. There is a great big difference between being unhappy and being bored. My free time used to be full of energy-filled activities like playing tennis, workout at the gym, and ballroom dancing. Economics was added into the equation thus putting on hold all my extras.

I am bored... so bored that I have gained 10 lbs in the last 6 months. Now, I am not only bored. I am bored and fat.

I need to get back to my regular jogging regimen. The jogging might somehow elevate my endorphins thus making me feel "less" bored. Sigh!

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It is a lazy, rainy, gloomy, Monday. As usual I woke up before my alarm clock was set to ring at 5:30 A.M. Monday mornings are just hectic for me. My son is off for the week and I have to make sure everything is ready and packed. Daughter #1 is on duty today until tomorrow. Daughter #2 has to be in school real early - she has been elevated to senior level teacher and IB teacher. Daughter #3 has a patient at 8 A.M.- a child of 5 is to have multiple teeth extraction and has to be sedated. Daughter #4 is all toxic for today is the start of her midterm exams. Ethan added to the hullabaloo by waking up earlier than usual and demanding to be fed ASAP.

By 6:30 A.M everyone's out of the house. I was left with Ethan and was tasked to take him to school later. As I was seeing my kids off I noticed that the sidewalk gutter at the front is filled with mud. Instead of assigning the job to the maid, I got the shovel and started to dig up the mud. Oh, this is hard. Just then a neighbor passed by and shouted "hoy! bakit ikaw gumagawa nyan?" ( why are you the one doing that?). I just put down the shovel -mind you it's the rectangular biggie shovel- and smiled and waved at her. I continued with my work. The mud was pretty thick and smelly. I started to sweat and swear. If my mother could see me now she'd die!

I tried to hasten my work for several neighbors ( going to work) are coming out of their houses now. I got the broomstick and dustpan and started sweeping the remaining dirt. I was able to clean up the front sidewalk pretty well. The stinking mud is gone and I am left with the thought that for the rest of the day "I have nothing better and of consequence to do."

I felt sad.











picture courtesy

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I set my alarm to ring at 5:45 A.M. Is this early enough? Maybe I should set it to go off at 5:30 A.M.? No, 5:45 A.M. is fine. I went to bed jittery with anticipation. I tossed and turned. Maybe I should just stay up a while and just wait? I am not good with the waiting game. I hate to wait and I hate late!

I finally fell asleep for the next thing I knew it was 5:20 A.M. I woke up even before the alarm went off. I went straight to the kitchen and told the surprised Jean (for I usually get up at 6:45 am) what to cook for breakfast and what to pack for snacks. Having done the morning instructions I proceeded to my little nook and turned on the computer.

Now the actual wait begins.

I started to hear movements and voices indicating that the rest of the household is waking up too. I was so tempted to leave my fort and go see what is happening. No. I have to maintain my position ready to pounce anytime now. I stayed glued. Refreshing my view every now and then. Anytime now. I can do this. I know I can. My right hand was steady. My left hand fidgety. It does not matter. I only need one steady hand.

"Mom? We're leaving" chorused my four out of five kids. What am I to do? Do I leave my fort to bid my kids good bye or do I stay and continue my watch? I have to see them off. My son won't be back until Friday night.

I hurriedly left my stance and sprinted to the dining room to say bye-bye to my kids. Goodbye, bye-bye, see-you-friday-pleasechangeyourbeddings-tc! I was off my post for not more than 5 minutes. Hurriedly I went back in front of my computer, held the mouse and clicked on the refresh icon. Crap! Gray areas! I just missed five freaking opportunities again!

The wait begins... anew.

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I've been running a fever since Thursday night. I felt so lethargic that I fell asleep inside the car while waiting for daughter #2 last Thursday. When I came home, I felt feverish so I took my temperature. It read 38.5 Celsius. I was officially sick.

Friday morning daughter #1, the doctor, came home to look me over and take Ethan to school. I was having stomach spams - maybe a bout of gastro - the doctor said. I browsed the internet and checked my email and blog for a short time. I had a terrible headache, a grumbling-spasmodic tummy, and an aching body. I wanted to eat but my stomach won't take in food! By evening, I just wanted to be left alone. Ethan was in my bed (of all places) playing and watching TV. He kept on singing, and talking - stressing me out.

Ethan, can you please go to Kux's room. You're stressing me out.

What's stressing?

Just go and stress Kux!

Off Ethan went and brought Kux back.

What is it mom? Do you need anything? daughter #3 asked.

I explained what happened and that brought another strain of stress making my tummy spasm more. I waved Ethan and daughter #3 to get out of my bedroom. After a few minutes, Ethan came back.

Mom, can I just stay in your room. Kux said she does not like stress. I'll take care of you because you're sick, said Ethan.

I agreed for the sake of agreeing. I so wanted to tune out.

Mom, can you get me water? I'm thirsty.

But I'm sick and you said you'll take care of me.

Oh I forgot. Then Ethan continued to watch TV. Thirst forgotten. A moment later he asked,

Mom, can we watch Narnia?

I agreed and changed the channel. As Ethan was watching I commented that we have not watched Narnia 2 yet.

But we are watching Narnia now, Ethan said.

That's Narnia 1. The one that's showing in cinemas is Narnia 2, I commented.

You mean there are many Narnia? What about Narnia 3?

I don't know if and when Narnia 3 will be!

Or what about Narnia 4, 5, or 17! His eyes were all a glow, brimming with excitement.

I turned my back on Ethan and closed my eyes. My tummy's churning again.

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As a mother of five, you can just imagine how many times I must have encountered emergencies. No. I am not in the mood to count those situations for I do not want to recall how many times I silently died. Yes. I died each emergency time then miraculously bounced back to life after 2 seconds. My mom, relatives and friends say that I am such a cool cucumber in times of stress and emergencies. That's what they think. I AM NOT A COOL CUCUMBER! I am petrified. I hyperventilate. I die!

The thing is even in times of undue stress, I do manage to present a cool exterior. My secret? Um... because I am a vociferous reader. I have read up on emergency procedures as early as I was 3 months pregnant with my first child. I have more or less learned to deal with panic attacks. Here are some pointers you can use to check your panic mode.

1.Learn CPR and first aid: Having first-aid skills makes you do useful actions instead of panic.

2. Grow you brain: Meaning, please use you brain - read, study, write, solve puzzles or any other activity to stimulate tour brain. The hippocampus, the part of the brain which calls up life experiences to moderate fear, shrinks.

3. Imagine the worst: Plan A. Plan B. Even Plan C or D. Yesterday my daughters and some friends we were talking about how to repel a rapist. One idea was to tell the rapist that she i having her monthly period. Another one said, pretend to vomit and say you have to use the bathroom. Tell the rapist you have AIDS. Silly as the ideas may be, at least there's a plan.

4. Practice makes perfect: I have played over and over in my mind what to do in case my kid shallows an object and start to gag. I have visualized perfectly countless times. When daughter # 3 shallowed a key chain at the age of 1.5 years, I knew where to grab her to completely turn her upside down- whack her back - and dislodge the keychain from her throat. When daughter #4's turn came, it was a breeze.

5. SAP 100: Stop. Assess. Plan at 100 meters. Keep away from wild animals, maniacs, fire, car wrecks and the likes until you have decided the most useful and plausible strategy.

6. Determine risks versus benefits. Do you get in the burning house now or do you wait for help? Do you try to save the drowning person and risk drowning yourself too? The key is never endanger more people than can be saved.

7. Prioritise: Professional use this standard: red for critically injured people; yellow for moderately injured people; green for good to go. If there is tie\me for rescue, rescuers will definitely take the reds first. If time is crucial and there's not a second to spare, the rescuers take the green.

The best remedy I have in times of great panic and emergencies is prayer. My best rescue buddy is of course, God.

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Graffiti : (used with a plural verb) markings, as initials, slogans, or drawings, written, spray-painted, or sketched on a sidewalk, wall of a building or public restroom, or the like.







Graffitist caught in action at Gram's Diner.

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I woke up earlier than usual today for it was my turn to drive the dentist to her duty. Going to the hospital was a breeze but coming back was not. It is the town fiesta tomorrow in my adopted-third-world-town in Cavite so traffic snarls were expected. I greeted Ethan when I got back and gave him some crinkles that I bought in Becky's Kitchen. I proceeded to the basement and turned on my desktop.

Mom! I can't open the door to your bedroom. Something clicked and now the doorknob is loose! It won't budge! daughter # 2 - the teacher- said. Ethan is inside and can't get out.

Huh!? Again!? For the nth time, that doorknob has been replaced. My bedroom gets the most traffic in our house. Everybody wants to hang out in my bedroom. Watch TV. Sleep on my bed. Eat. Talk. Rant. Rave. Exercise. Do make-overs. Anything. Everything.

Ethan! I've told you millions of times to stop banging and slamming my door. I shouted as I walked or rather galloped towards my bedroom.

But mom, I didn't do anything, countered Ethan. The teacher and I tried to open the door. We used keys, screw drivers, credit card (expired) to try to open the jammed door. Nothing. Okay. Think. I asked one of the maids to get the ladder so I can climb by the window and try to pry it open- bad idea as the French window is barrel bolted. No harm trying.

It is good that my house is a split-level type and my bedroom is just about 8 steps elevated from the ground. As I climbed the ladder, the three maids and daughter #2 were all gawking at me. Right. You might ask why daughter #2 did not climb the ladder herself. She was all dressed up and was about to leave when the incident happened. I can't let her dirty her clothes.

Ethan, get your chair and come by the window. Step on the chair and try to slide the bolt of the window to your right. Of course I lost about a pint of blood explaining what the heck is a bolt, how it looks like and how to align all parts so it might slide freely and finally unlock.

What mom? Ethan is 5 and can't even get near the window much less understand or execute my instructions. Again. I tapped the window and indicated that he lift the blinds -which as you can probably see in the picture, is now broken- and curtains so he can reach the window bolt. Yes! He was able to reach the bolt. Now, slide the bolt to your right as I indicated with my hand where his right is. It's not working mom. Oh shoot! Slide the bolt to your left! He did, finally, and I opened the window from the outside.

Problem 2. The window has grills but I was able to unlock it. The problem was the grills swing in the bedroom to open which is impossible to do since half of the TV was blocking the window.The TV was heavy and Ethan can't possibly budge it. I got down from the ladder to call my foreman.

Mom?!
What!?
I really have to poo! Great!

Daughter #2 rushed back praying that the door might finally open. Miraculously, it did!

Lessons learned:

for Ethan: do not bang or slam the door.
for daughter#2: miracles do happen in the most tight situations
for me: do not buy that particular brand of doorknob ever again.

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An online buddy ,Herson, introduced me to a site that pays you to do essays and research works. He said he has been with that company for a year and that the pay is good. Wanting to spread out my wings in terms of writing and well, earning money online, I signed up. All I had to do was fill-up the online application form and attach a sample of my work. I was readily approved to be one of the site's new writer for hire.

I was excited. Finally, a writing gig where I am not hired based on my site's PR or popularity or location or domain(or lack of it). Google will be happy with me. No more paid blogging! I received emails after emails of writing opportunities. As I peruse the topics, I thought what the heck did I get myself into? Here are some samples of opportunities offered to me.

Topic: Mobility/Continuing Care Nursing Care Plan
Type: Case Study (Health and Social Care)
Pages: 30
Level: Specialized Level (Nursing)
Page cost: $10.65
Total: $319.50
Deadline: 2008-05-07 06:21:15 PST
Style: APA, UK English
Sources: 10

Topic:How does an initially successful behaviour establish itself
as a self-defeating behaviour and why is it so difficult for the client
to recognise it?'
Type:Problem-Solving (Other/Not Specified)
Level: College Level
Page cost: $7.14
Total: $71.40
Deadline: 2008-05-03 23:36:17 PST
Style: MLA, UK
Sources:2

I signed up to write for subjects in art, religion and other easy social sciences. The clients specify the number of resources that is why it's imperative to do research work. Researching is not really a daunting task: but if you have to write a 30-page-10-resources-research- in- specialized nursing, a subject I know nothing about, to be written in UK English in 3-4 days, I say, old chap count me out.

The in-demand topics are business, health care and philosophy related. As I continue to receive offers of perplexing topics, my nose persists to bleed!

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I was off line all day yesterday. I had to leave the house to watch Ethan's summer workshop's culminating activity.

I was distracted yesterday. I was preoccupied thinking of so many tasks still undone. I have to look for a place for my son to stay this coming academic year. I have to prepare myself (physically and mentally) for next week the maids will be off for 2 weeks. I have to make sure I have the money for tuition fees and other school stuff. My garden is still a mess. My car needs some minor buffing. My other daughter tells me she needs a car. All of these thoughts translated to more money needed which set me thinking of the extra income I could have had in paid blogging if only this site has a page rank of even 1.

As early evening came, I sat by my terrace to contemplate. I wanted to talk about blogging, PR, Google, Technorati, paid reviews and anything to do with the blogosphere. My kids are not around and they won't be interested anyway. My friends? Forget it! Blogging is not a word they would understand.

Two entities then came by and sat with me. Ah, an audience. I started to talk. I do not need answers as there were really no questions. I just needed someone to air my thoughts and sentiments. As I finished my monologue, I felt better.

Can we eat now? I'm hungry. Ethan asked.

Woof! joined Rocky.

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The extremely hot weather finally caught up on me. I have a cold: clogged nose, itchy throat, watery eyes, congested chest, irritating cough, hot-cold sensation and a splitting headache.

So what am I doing blogging? Sick or not, life goes on. I just had to check my e-mail for I've been expecting one from my brother. In the course of my checking, I saw an anonymously written comment on my Black Suede post. He/She/It said that I am ignorant. Let me clarify that anonymous #2 called me ignorant because I wrote that the highly publicized rectal surgical procedure was interesting. Umm... that set me thinking. (If you can actually declare my brain to be capable of the task). Just what does ignorant means?

According to my favorite online dictionary, ignorant means:

1. lacking in knowledge or training. True, I am not a doctor but do I need to be one for me to say that the surgical procedure was interesting?

2. lacking knowledge or information as to a particular subject or fact. I did not report on the surgical procedure. I merely wrote what I have read and gave my two cents.

3 uninformed. unaware. Oh I was aware of the incident.

4. due to or showing lack of knowledge or training: an ignorant statement. Was commenting that I find the much-viewed-and-talked-about surgical procedure interesting validates that I am indeed ignorant?
If that is ignorance, than we have a lot of ignoramuses traipsing about, happily.

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The temperature today reached 37 degrees Celsius. That is roughly equivalent to 100 degrees Fahrenheit. That is hot! hot!hot!

I am now sunburned. No, I have not been to the beach yet. I really do not like the beach, as a matter of fact. I try to keep freckles and melasma off my face that is why I stay away from the sun. I really take precautions.

I slather sunblock on my face before I leave the house. My sunblock claims to block UVA and UVB rays. I use an umbrella while walking under the intense heat of the Philippine sun. I re-apply sunscreen as needed. Still, I see myself getting progressively sunburned.

The heck with sunblocks having an SPF of 45. If I normally get sunburned in 10 minutes then using a sunscreen with an SPF pf 45 would mean I am safe from burning in a time span of 450 minutes or 7 hours and 50 minutes. Umm. Not true at all. You see, I just found out that conventional sunscreen with a high SPF does block UVA rays effectively.

Even some products labeled "broad-spectrum UVA/UVB protection" do not provide good protection against UVA rays. The best UVA protection is provided by products that contain zinc oxide, avobenzone, and ecamsule. Titanium dioxide probably gives good protection, but does not completely cover the entire UV-A spectrum.

Ultraviolet A causes invisible damage and skin aging and does not cause reddening or pain. This is the culprit that makes me darker and gives me age spots and wrinkles! Drat!

Anyone knows where I can buy a titanium dioxide-based sunblock?

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After dropping off my son at his school, Ethan and I proceeded to fetch the dentist. En route, we went to McDo drive through.

Yes ma'm good afternoon. Your order please.

My order: one large fries, one large light coke and one chicken fillet meal.
No response from the speaker.

Ahh...hello? Can anybody hear me?

Yes ma'm. Your order please.

One large fries, one large light coke and one chicken fillet meal.

Ahh, ma'm your order is one large fries? What else ma'm.

Again. One large fries, one large light coke and one chicken fillet meal.This time my voice a little bit louder than normal.

Umm... ma'm can you repeat it?

Oh my gosh! Can't you understand or hear what I'm saying?

Ma'm ....I can hear you but....

One large fries, one large light coke and one chicken fillet: this time said with much emphasis on each syllable with a pitch over normal and a volume that can be heard about 10 meters away.

I do not want to be a beaaaaatch but.... oh well....

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I left the house at 9:30 am today to take the dentist to her residency duty somewhere in Quezon city. With me were my son and Ethan. Since the dentist will only take an hour to finish her rounds, we (son, Ethan and I) decided to leave her at the hospital and eat an early lunch at Burger King near the Quezon City Memorial Circle: the one intersecting Rodriquez Ave., Quezon Ave., and Espana Boulevard.

After eating, I decided to order take-out for the dentist. I got out of the joint's parking area while son and grandson were happily eating their sundaes. I then proceeded to the rotonda to make my u-turn. Crap! The circle is all blocked up. No more circling the rotonda to go Eastward of Quezon Ave. Okay. I'll just proceed along Espana Boulevard and hope to make a u-turn in one of the intersections.

Heavy traffic at lunch time. The car aircon was in full blast but I was still feeling hot! hot! hot! My gosh! There's no freaking u-turn or left turn in any of the intersections I have passed. Just then, my mobile phone rang.

Mom! Where are you? I'm done.
I'm somewhere along Espana looking for a u-turn.
There's no u-turn there. You have to turn left at the street before UST. Oh wait! There's no left turn there either.

Okay. I was then officially pissed off. My son was making some guttural noise-like ihavetobeinschoolbyonethirty. Heh!

I had to turn left at Lacson, do an illegal u-turn near the UST Hospital ( I was pass caring at this point), crossed Espana to get to Forbes, drove some more to get near the bottom of the fly-over at the Magsaysay and Nagtahan junction where I finally did the badly-needed u-turn to drive north of Lacson to turn right at Espana to finally go east of Quezon Ave, to pick up dentist then take son to school.

Crappity-crap! A five-minute drive turned into a 35-minute detour disaster which translated into wasted time and gasoline.

Who ever thought of closing all the u-turn points along Espana Boulevard?!

Show yourself!

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No, that's not Ratatouille. That was a mouse I saw running across my dining room. I threw my right pair lavander and pink crocs slipper at it to scare it away. I did not mean to kill it, but I did anyway. Marksman, that's me.

Picking up the dead mouse freaked all my kids. They are all so namby-pamby! Ethan got mad at me. He said, mom! you killed Ratatouille!

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When I was quite young, If I joined a popularity contest, I would surely have lost. At first glance, I am not very likeable. Girls hate me. They hang on to their boyfriends with their sharp claws. I don't know why but I seem to be a threat to them.

Some say I have this very confident-assured-aura in me. They say it shows in the way I walk, talk,write, umm.... probably, my essence. Well, is that a fault?

I am a no non-sense, no suck-up girl. I do not play nicey-girley-smiley-sweety games. I play straight and fair. I talk straight and direct sometimes to the point of ferociousness: Karinyo Brutal, roughly translated as brutal caring.

Anyway, I cannot easily say I have plenty of friends for I do not. Oh I have tons of acquiantances but only a handful of real close friends. The youngest friendship that I have is 15 years old. The oldest relations are my friendship with my kindergarten classmates.

I need not call or see my friends for us to retain the closeness. It's just there. We can rely on one another to help us out in times of trouble and need. I am perceived as a snob, but I am not. Once you get to know me you'll find that I am not bad company.

Now that I am a lot older, girls need not hold on to their boyfriends. I just don't have the energy to exude charm.

But I can be your friend.

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I got this tag from Cel. I am not going to tag anyone in particular as I am tagging every one who cares to know their personality type.

Your Personality Is

Guardian (SJ) You are sensible, down to earth, and goal oriented. Bottom line, you are good at playing by the rules. You tend to be dominant - and you are a natural leader. You are interested in rules and order. Morals are important to you. You are a hard worker, you give your all at whatever you do. You're very serious, and people often tell you to lighten up. In love, you tend to take things carefully and slowly. At work, you are suited to almost any career - but you excel in leadership positions. With others, you tend to be polite and formal. As far as looks go, you are traditionally attractive. You take good care of yourself. On weekends, you tend to like to do organized activities. In fact, you often organize them!

The Three Question Personality Test

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The pins perfectly lined up

The mechanical area back of the alleys

The Alumni Center was the newest edifice at UP back in the 70's. The venue has a duckpin bowling alley and billiard tables for the use of fun-seekers like me. I became quite adept at playing duckpins and billiards back then. My best buddy Helen also became a billiard queen much to the consternation of her brother who was also a fixture at the Alumni Center.

A few days ago, I went to the Alumni Center to check the place out. The Alumni Center is not to be confused with the Bahay ng Alumni. The center has a full-pledged restaurant now available for functions and catering.

The alley was a sorry state though. The alley is still manual; meaning the pins and balls are taken care of by a person located at the back of the pin area. The pictures are taken by my son using his cell phone . (His third cell phone this semester. Remember the snitching events at Kalayaan Hall?)

I was kinda hoping to see the same manong of my time manning the pins and balls.

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My cpu is still broken, I think it will have to be reformatted. Shucks! My files are all gone. I will not be able to go blog hopping. Fellow bloggers, pardon my not visiting your sites. My kids are all hugging their laptops to death.

It is now 6:20 pm. I'm in my son's bedroom tweaking his laptop while he is outside doing his thing with his skateboard. He thinks I'm cooking dinner. To heck with dinner. I am just itching to check my emails and blogs.

It is not the same though. I miss my blogging spot at the basement. I miss the quiet and solitude of the space. I cleaned my computer spot a while back. Gosh, the dust is almost a millimeter thick in the hard to reach places under my cpu. Bloggers, better check under your tables and chairs. Ickabod Crane might be asleep there!

Blogging really takes your mind off everything. You just don't know what you're missing. While I was cleaning the basement, I saw the long lost book I was looking for the longest time. It was wedged between the foot of my drafting table and the bookshelf. I found the roll of red ribbon I needed last February. Oh, I also found the oshkosh summer shorts of 3 years ago.

I saw some real funny-gross-yucky pictures of some 12 years ago. I so wanted to publish them here but the scanner is connected to my computer and it's so tedious to set it up in this laptop. Oh Oh... I can hear the owner's footsteps.

Better log off now.

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Daughter #3 (the dentist) and I joined the crowd of joggers and bikers yesterday at the UP academic oval. She went ahead of me as we do not jog at the same pace. She was faster as I was more relaxed.

As I started my route right in front of the oblation statue, I noticed that a bonfire was lit up front. Ummm...all part of the 100 years celebration. So I continued. There were less joggers yesterday as compared to last Wednesday. I wonder why. Oooppsss... I almost hit the male jogger running counter as I kept on looking around me while I jog.

As I near Palma Hall, rush of memories flash back. I remembered my freshman year where I used to get off from my father's car on this very same spot. I remembered taking the stairs at the entrance at the Faculty Center side carrying my incredibly thick (5-6 inches, no kidding) Freshman English book. I remembered going to Palma Hall at the ungodly hour of 6:30 am to snitch the posters off the bulletin boards. Yes manong janitor of some 30 years ago:That was me!

My gosh! The sunken garden is brimming with soccer wannabes. I never set foot on the sunken garden when I was in UP. There was no point. Back then, people were not as health conscious as people now. True, there were a few joggers during my time: athletes or runners. Back in the 70's the farthest that I walked around the campus was between Palma Hall and Malcolm Hall. I need you to understand that walking (especially for girls) was not popular then because of the shoe fashion. Why? Try walking around in 3 to 4 inches wedges or clogs.

Ahhh... I'm nearing starting ground. Oh my, I really have to go! It's 6:30 pm, school's out, college building entrances manned and locked. The gym! But that's about another 700 meters off! I really have to go. Okay. I'll just try my luck at the College of Music.

Excuse me manong guard, can I go in to use the restroom? Sorry ma'm, the building is closed for outsiders. Crap! Think!

I am not an outsider. I was a student here at UP with student ID # 73-01983! Huh? The manong guard was taken aback. I bet he was not even born when UP issued out my ID.

Sorry ma'm, go right in, straight then right to the restroom.

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