I had my hair cut really short. After keeping a mane for the last six years, I had it lopped off to the collective and undisguised horror of the stylists in the beauty parlor in our neighborhood. It took me almost 20 minutes (I’m not kidding) of wrangling and pleading before they agreed to cut my hair; and even then they were refusing to give me a short cut, but instead kept recommending styles that would have allowed me to keep some of the length.
Why did I had my hair cut?
I was bored.
I was bored and annoyed with how things are going in my personal life and right now I’m sick and tired of trying to get sympathy from sources that are intrinsically incapable of giving it. So snip-snip-snip and I’m a ‘new’ person. Hah!
Okay, now for the not-so-dramatic reason: I couldn’t maintain my hair anymore. I don’t have the time or the patience to attend to it. Shampooing it became a chore; drying it took forever; and there were days when I felt like some of the strands were turning into snakes and I’m Medusa.
So maybe now I can start wearing hats. I used to collect hats, but I seldom got to wear them. And I don’t have to hurt myself shampooing (yes, I am THAT out of shape); and I can quit being wistful that I don’t know how to do braids.
My daughter Kimiko Gabrielle — Miko– turned one year last week, and it was a happy occasion. I’m so proud of her, my eyes tear up sometimes just looking at her. It only seems like yesterday when we took her home from the hospital, a reddish-yellowish lump wrapped in a baby blankie; now she’s a walkin-talkin (what passes for talking for babies, anyway– she’s very voluble!) toddler who can finish a big jar of broccolli and a small juice box in one sitting.
The other day my sister Majal was going nuts because she couldn’t find her flash drive. She all but overturned the furniture in the living room in her search for it. After 30 minutes of fruitless search, she exasperatedly turned to Miko who was at the time in her crib and watching her avidly, and asked her “Asan, Miko? Asan? Where the hell is my flash drive?!”
Of course Ate Majal wasn’t expecting an answer, but she nearly fell in a faint when Miko calmly pointed to the nearest sofa and sure enough, there, wedged under the black, cushiony armrest, was the blue flashdrive.
Contrary to some of the reviews I’ve heard and read, Transformers 2 Revenge of the Fallen was great! I had a terrific time watching the giant sentient robots race, crash against and crush each other. I didn’t really mind that I couldn’t really see it clearly when they transformed (everything was much too fast, and the Transformers looked damn bulky) because I left all my expectations at the theatre’s entrance. The dialogue was hilarious though, gad! I laughed and laughed and there was one time when I choked on my Coke when the character played by the amazing Mr. John Turturro relayed his whereabouts as being “directly under the enemy’s scrotum.” You have to watch to movie to understand what the heck that’s all about.
Honestly, it’s not like I went to watch Transformers 2 hoping to achieve some major epiphany afterwards. I didn’t watch so I could learn something worth dying for. I went because I wanted to see Optimus Prime kick butt. I wanted to hear Shia Lebouef’s Sam Witwicky’s wisecracks and I wanted to forget that I was pissed off.
It’s a rainy, rainy Thursday, and for all the things that distract me from work and other thinsg that make me happy (yep, work makes me happy – go ahead and laugh, but I like being of use, I like believiing that to some however small degree, I am contributing to the Good Side), I’m enjoying the day. I was a frog in a pervious life, probably. I’ve always been happy in rainy weather; it’s the traffic jams and the floods that make me want to massacre government officials.
Peace talks na!