Sunday, July 20, 2008
Just a Saturday
Woke up around 5:00am, because I wanted to reach Diliman by 8am so that I could spend as much time as possible in the library. Catch a near-empty HM bus at around 5:30. Will make good time, since the morning rush hasn't arrived yet.
Papa texts that he wants to bring be to Diliman and asks what time I'll be in Cubao, so I say 7:30. Around 7:15, I ask him where he is already, he answers he's still in Antipolo, a good 45 minutes away. Wondered why he bothered to waste his load to ask me what time I'd arrive if he'd disregard it anyway. Read a few chapters of Banana Heart Summer while waiting in front of the Araneta Center parking lot.
Reach Diliman at around 9am. Papa and I get lost while looking for the CAL. Ask a lot of people for directions. Try to hide the UP seal on the UP shirt (note: not UPLB shirt) I realized I as wearing as I asked. Quietly hate myself for getting lost in Diliman every time I visit, without fail.
Finally find the CAL. Since Papa's battery is low, he asks me for a time when he can pick me up. I play it safe, so I say 12 noon, just so that I have a lot of time. Papa leaves me in front of the walkway to the CAL.
Enter the CAL and wander around for a bit, the way I always do when I visit a place for the first time. After a few more questions, a lot more wandering about and repeatedly flashing the ID I just had made last Monday (the security in the library always asked for a closer look, because they obviously aren't used to UPLB students flashing their IDs at them), I learn that the material I need is in the Graduate Studies Office, which is closed on weekends. Wander around the Faculty Center for a long while before I find out there really is no way to get what I need on a Saturday. Wander around even more before I found out that there is really nothing else to do, so I sit down and eat cheap palabok and read more Banana Heart Summer and take down notes and realize that this book is really quotable at times:
"Every story has its own taste, Every storyteller has her own taste; so does every listener. So when I speak in a particular flavor, I know my words taste differently on your tongue. While it is the ear that receives a story, the main event happens in the tongue repeating it..."
-Chapter twenty-one: The Flavoured Tale
Go back outside before it turns 12. Text my angst about libraries and the UPLB main library (which is often only useful for Biology and Agriculture students at best) to several friends. Run into Ai while waiting. Chitchat about Lola Mad's awarding speech (which I wasn't able to attend because it was a weekday) and a short debate about the culinary and etymological roots of Adobo (which she threatened to ask Michael Tan about). Feel funny talking about literature and cultural history on a graduate student level, for some reason. It's raining by the time Ai leaves.
Get rained on while waiting for Papa, so I am wet and shivering and wanting to go home when he arrives. He wants lunch in Sta. Lucia first, though, so I oblige, the two pieces of penoy I ate that morning already reduced to nothing.
On the way to the mall, two words suddenly resonate in my mind: DARK KNIGHT. I ask Papa if he has time to go watch a movie. We see if the new Yoshinoya branch in Sta. Lucia is any good (which it is, and besides, Papa loves Yoshinoya), we check for the prices of laptops and buy a new mouse before watching. Watch the movie, almost go gay over Heath Ledger's acting (note: almost, and besides the guy's dead already). Epicfailed to predict the length of the movie, which meant that we would be late for Tito Arcus' birthday dinner at Rockwell. Have a quiet angst episode when Papa and Mama are both too flustered over each other's personality quirks to coordinate on how to get everybody to Makati.
After much humming and heaving and calling and texting about, finally reach Le Souffle only thirty minutes late. Proceed to dig into talking with cousins and into a supposedly medium rare ostrich steak which was still kind of tough for what it was. Feel they are redeemed by the dessert of cheesecake, sorbet, souffles and mousse though. Fall in love with my sweet tooth for the nth time.
Everybody votes to pass by Lola Tess in the Loyola Memorial Crematorium before going home. Remember that Mama texted about Lola Tess' death some time in the week. Hate receiving news late as a consequence of staying in LB.
Arrive at Loyola Memorial. Visit relatives. Share a few tears and a few prayers. Fall asleep on the ride home.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home