100 Things About Me (26-50)

26. Given my intense, palpable hatred of Ortigas, it’s not surprising that I hate Megamall as well. The place is simply too large for my comfort. I never fail to get lost like a bloody idiot everytime I go to the damn mall. I don’t know where Mega A ends and Mega B begins. And don’t bother asking me about Mega C. It’s hopeless. I can be stupid that way.

27. I’m a kuya’s girl. He became my sole parent when my folks separated and my mom had to go abroad. The man’s a martyr; he was the one who had to deal with my coming-of-age angst, developing breasts and my first monthly period. He is the type of brother whom you can coerce to buy you sanitary napkins at the sari-sari store because you ran out of supplies and you are already menstruating all over the place. When my mom lost her job in the Middle East, it was my brother who supported me all throughout college. Tuition fee in UST even back then, especially for my course, is not exactly cheap. His sacrifice was immense. As far as I’m concerned, my kuya is the best brother in the world. He deserves a monument. This is why I’m more scared of him than I am of my mom. If my kuya tells me to jump off the top of a building, I’d do it, because I’m certain that he installed a safety net for me to land on.

28. My favorite dessert is Blueberry Cheesecake.

29. I can’t eat balut. I just can’t.

30. I had quite a nomadic childhood. Sort of. I was born in Manila, and then spent a considerable part of my young years in Alabang and BF. Alabang Town Center was Alabang Twin Cinema back then, if I’m not mistaken. When unfortunate circumstances forced us to leave the south, we settled again in Manila. I spent my elementary years in Taft Avenue, studied for one year in Quezon City then went back to Manila again. My endless relocating stopped when I entered high school. My brother and I gained control of my grandparents’ house in Malate, and we stayed there until the house was destroyed by a fire sometime in 1998.

31.I have chronic biyahilo. I’m very sensitive to motion, especially when inside vehicles. Everytime I take a cab, jeep or bus, I pray that the driver is not some maniac whose idea of a good time is to step on the breaks every five seconds with all the force he’s got. Because if he is, then I would surely step off the vehicle later on with a roaring headache. This is probably why I haven’t taken road trips or have gone to vacations that much; I may throw up in the middle of the journey. My friends told me to stop being a wuss and start taking Bonamine.

32. I used to sing. Before my voice box turned into the pathetic croaking machine that it is today, I had a crystal-clear voice that can hit the high notes of the Whitneys and Mariahs of the world. I can belt out “One Moment in Time” without any trouble at all. What happened, you may ask. Some traumatic experience in a competition made me stop singing altogether. I ate all the ice cream and ice candy that my teeth could handle and stopped training. Thus, the tragic end of my “singing career”, one that never was.

33. I used to sing in a church choir.

Yeah. You heard that right. Not because I genuinely wanted to ruin a solemn  celebration of God with my horrible croaking, but because some community service requirement forced me to. I was prepared to hate it, but the darnedest thing happened – I actually liked it. Soon, I was singing not only during the morning but also during evenings as well, whenever I can spare time. Now I have to be honest with y’all, lest you think that I’m dishing out a steaming pile of horseshit here. It’s my flirtations with the altar boys that made me stick with it for as long as I did. Hehe.

34. I picked up my first paperback when I was in fifth grade. The book is from the Sweet Valley High series, I forgot the title. Needless to say, I practically became a walking encyclopedia of all things related to Sweet Valley High and Sweet Valley Twins. Back then, I could probably make a diagram of Jessica and Elizabeth Wakefield’s relationship with everybody else in the book. The Wakefield twins with their sun-bleached blond hair, size 6 figures and matching lavalier necklaces. Their dad is Ned, who is a lawyer, their mom is Alice, an interior designer and they have a brother named Steven, a law undergrad. They drive a Fiat Spider and their favorite hangout is the Dairy Burger. They go to school with lotsa people, including Lila Fowler and Bruce Patman. Lila is new rich and Bruce is old rich. They can’t stand each other. Lila lives in the Fowler mansion with her dad, George. Bruce drives a black Porsche with a vanity plate 1BRUCE1.

Go ahead, feel free to scrawl NERD across my back. I deserve it.

35. I read Sweet Dreams too. If you are a true scholar of Sweet Dreams novels, you MUST know the answer to: What does P.S. in P.S. I Love You mean? More points for you if you still know the title of the novel that followed this one. Nyahahaha!

36. Other women shop for clothes, shoes and whatnots whenever they are depressed. Me, I go shop for books. My retail therapy involves me going to the nearest Booksale branch in my pambahay outfit and browse the store’s shelves relentlessly for my bargain babies. Secretly, I want to be a mysterious book dealer, just like Olivier Martinez in Unfaithful. Not so secretly, I want Olivier Martinez’ hot Gallic ass.

37. I love pearls, real or fake. I keep several pairs of faux pearl earrings in my jewelry box. I plan to buy a set of ridiculously expensive South Sea pearls for my 30^th birthday.

38. I can hear our bank agent dissolving into fits of uncontrollable laughter now.

39. I’m a cat person. I love all animals actually, but feline creatures have the ability to make me go softie. Seeing a sick, maltreated kitten shivering in the rain is enough to ruin my day. I used to have a puskal named Batman. He died because he got into a fight with a humongous rat. My cat killed the rat alright, but not before the filthy rodent scratched my Batman’s eye with his rabies-filled claws.

40. Question of the day: Am I in love? I don’t know. Not a yes, not a no, not even a maybe. I just don’t know. Denial? Maybe.

41. I was forced to restrict the access to my Friendster profile. Some uber religious relatives in Canada have been checking out my risqué, feeling-bold-star photos, and I don’t like it. They must think I’m living a life of sin. Which is not far from the truth, come to think of it.

42. I think British men are very sexy. Their sense of humor is the best, plus their accent is enough to make my G-strings melt. Bloody hell.

43. I love Spaniards too. Hello, Javier Bardem? I’d let him fuck me in the ass. Heehee.

44. I don’t believe that Brangelina is in Bora right now. Please prove me wrong.

45. My bestfriend’s name is Mona. Nowadays, she spells it as Monna. What’s with the double N, I dunno. Some vanity thing, no doubt. We’ve been buddies ever since high school. A lot of people think that we look alike, although she would always point out that I’m way ahead in the sex appeal department. Now you know why she’s my BFF.

46. I dabbled in theater acting while I was in college. No, I wasn’t part of Teatro Tomasino. Rather, I volunteered my shameless ass whenever there is a class play. When we were tasked to stage Tatarin, a Nick Joaquin classic, I auditioned. The part calls for someone who could portray a sexually-repressed woman who is dying to let it all out. During audition, the actors were asked to produce the best masturbating cries and moans we could muster.

I got the lead role.

47. I wear white clothes only when I’m indoors. My favorite pambahay and sleepwear (next to naked, that is) is a clean, white sando, the kind that you wear under a flimsy school uniform. Everytime I go to a department store, I raid the pre-teens section for those sandos. Yes, I can still squeeze into those tiny underthings, believe it or not.

48. Oh, I was a tomboy back in high school. During the first couple of years, anyway. I gave white roses to a girl because she was so darn pretty. Now I’m hotter than her. Brag, brag, brag.

49. But you know, I don’t really brag that much. It’s not necessary. Other people will do the bragging for me.

50. Are you starting to hate my guts now? Good. Because I don’t care. And remember, there are 50 more left on this list. Suffer.