// MR LICKY boxer shorts by JOE BOXER //
To-Do Today:
- Garden
- Laundry
- Pots and pans
- Dinner with Biday and Gloria at Sweet Inspiration
- Watch choir concert in Ateneo
- Your Imaginary Friends / Cubao X
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| A Bug's Life |
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| Do my chillies need to be bright red before I can pick them? |
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| My papayas are too young... |
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| ...and so are my bananas. Unripe. That settles it, then. |
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| Back to bed. |
I was 23 when I first bought a parcel of land and a house to sit on it. My house was the first to have been built in the village since I was lucky enough to have had enough money for the whole down payment. Like every dutiful Filipino Catholic promdi, I was taught to work hard and save conscientiously.
Now the house and lot are all paid for, which is a relief. Yesterday the bank gave me an important sheet of parchment (looks like a college diploma) that says I now officially own the title to the land. I was asked to pay a further PhP500 to collect my important, official land title. I was looking for the dean to shake my hand in congratulations for thus having completed a Bachelor of Science in Owning a Home, but there was none. Nevertheless, I took a little bow, and I could have sworn that the bank's security guard gave me a little ovation.
I should have felt like celebrating (I didn't) and getting hammered (I did, alone, with more bottles of Red Horse beer than I care to admit. OK, three. Three 1 litre bottles).
It's... nice here. Too nice. Too quiet, too perfect, too slow, too idyllic.
Too not me, in other words.
I don't belong with Bermuda grass and hibiscus and chilli bushes and papaya and bananas.
I belong with pineapple (of the pina colada variety) and mint (in mojitos of course) and barley (processed as vodka).
I belong with loud music and even louder people.
I belong to a place where people laugh and fight and get silly and pass out but never sleep.
I belong with busy, battered, bruised beings.
I belong with busy, battered, bruised beings.
I belong to me.
Broken, bullheaded, hyperactive me.
