I felt like a grovelling kid yesterday, calling up my new best friend, snivelling like a six-year-old driven out of the sandbox. Yes, some people are here in our lives, in our here and now so they can hold our hands and comfort us. And some people whom you thought had disappeared, or unavailable suddenly called up, announced that they're in town for a layover, and would be very much willing to let you sniff all over their shoulders. So I met up with them, separately.
Cheer up note # 1: Walter called up the second I put the phone down from my marathon with Marge. He soothed me with his propensity for turning everything in his life into drama. He gave me this bookmark he meant to give years ago, some books, and his trusty Cosmo magazine. "Cheer up. Tandaan mo na lang ang sabi ni Lola Oscar Wilde: You have nothing to declare but your genius." It made me smile, even if we had such a short time together. He had to leave and head for the airport and get back to work in Bangkok.
Cheer up note # 2: Marge. It must be odd that the highlights of my week consist of the little walks we have on lazy drizzling afternoons at the university oval. We had tired of walking in the airconditioned confined of the malls all around the city. I've always loved trees and shadow and the soft shimmer of streetlights. After one round around the oval, we'd get ourselves bottles of water. Always at the same store. The manang at the store recognizes us already. "Are you two sisters?" We laugh. The last time at the mall, some random guy approached us, asking if we were Korean. Soul sisters maybe. We are starting to look alike. Which is weird and comforting at the same time. I really am glad to have you as my friend.
Cheer up note # 3: Yes, I know I shouldn't let it get into me. There will be worse, more vile things that can be said and done. Perhaps I really deserved the wake up call. It was more than just a bell ringing, or somebody knocking on the door. I've been sleeping too soundly, perhaps I had my job too easily. You say that it really wasn't my fault. I had been handled by kid gloves, so now that the gloves have been taken off, and replaced with huge, bare, rough hands, so I should accustom myself to the idea of ruthlessness at the workplace. I know I am not the ingenue anymore, because I am not, and because it is assumed that I must be used to the tirades of the job after two years in it. But still, I think the wake up call was more than just a splash of cold water. It was a strong forward kick that makes you suck in your guts. It left really wide awake. Maybe I'll consider reading The Alchemist now, although I never was into those inspirational Ophrah book club sort of stuff. You are absolutely right. Thank you for playing Nancy Drew.