a long time

these past two weeks have been some of the longest of my life. they've been filled with so much that i don't know where to begin. so i'll take it one step at a time and please bear with me.

all of last week was spent preparing for the bookstore's midnight madness party for the release of the newest harry potter book. my boss was crankier than usual and everyone was in a frenzy to get things ready. i went to work on friday from 2-6 and instead of spending the time getting ready for the party that night, alex and i spent the afternoon helping the sudden onslaught of customers. i left at 6 and went home to put the finishing touches on the little signs i was making for the food table. barely had enough time to eat before i changed back into some black clothes and barreled off to the bookstore again. it was 9 o'clock and already there were people there waiting, dressed in clothes, making jokes and sitting on the wrought-iron tables in the plaza. i got to see vanessa and sydney and barbara and dawn--fine women whom i haven't seen since the LA book festival in April. vanessa and i went out into the plaza and hung golden snitches off the trees while lauri and molly set up the food table. sydney and vanessa sat at the table where the customers who had pre-ordered the book would get their tickets. lauri and i were at the cash register ringing up last minute potter orders. it was bedlam. the store was so filled with people, there was hardly any moving room. the plaza was filled with people watching the prisoner of azkaban on a projector outside, or getting hats done by the balloon lady, or answering trivia questions for a prize. finally they began to line up, the boxes containing the books were uncovered, sydney and vanessa's table were set to barr the entrance of the store and alex stood just before the door, holding a clock for the all to see. i can't remember who cut open the first box, but i put out my hand and was one of the first to touch the book. the group of girls who were first in line squealed and counted down. 5...4...3...2...1! vanessa and sydney let the black cloth fall and for the next 30 minutes, we were giving away books. i stayed in the background behind the table, opening more boxes with a blade--and later, cutting down the boxes so that we could dispose of them properly. i was heartily reminded of working the dawn shift at pier 1 when all we did was open boxes and unveil new merchandise for the stores. it showed too since i was the handiest with a blade. once everyone had recieved their books, the place was empty. we started cleaning up and i got home at around 1 am. i took a shower, read the first two chapters of the book and went to bed at around 3. got up at 8 and went to work the next morning. we had successfully thrown a harry potter midnight madness party for 500 people. i say that's pretty impressive for an independent bookstore. we were even in yesterday's print of the irvine world news. full color page.

that was last friday.

i spent the weekend reading in earnest once i got off of work on saturday. that day, i read from 6pm-3am. woke up at 9:30, helped clean house, then read from 11am-2pm. all throughout this time, my mother kept getting phone calls from my great aunt and my sister kept getting text messages and emails from our aunty margie in the philippines.

my mother's father--our grandfather--was not doing so well. he had been taken to the ICU.

so on monday, my mom and dad drove to LA to have their passport's renewed and schedule a flight to the philippines. they left tuesday evening--as my sister and i were driving to the bridal shop to have my sister's wedding dress altered for the bustle and the hem. my mother, so strong, now had two things to worry about, my sister's huge wedding at the four seasons and her dad's bad health in the philippines. i was worried for her, fearing that the stress would finally get to her and knowing that she wasn't taking food care of herself. she spent the rest of her remaining time here buying lots of food from costco since you can't go to the philippines without bringing balakbyan boxes or boxes filled with american goods. its tradition. so one corner of our long kitchen was dedicated to the wedding--party favors, spools of tulle, flowers, and satin bows all on the counter--another corner was dedicated to the trip to the philippines: cardboard boxes and mounds of canned food, fruit juices, chocolate, instant coffee, etc.

once everything had been packed, and my mom was just waiting for dad to come home from work my sister took me and two friends to mon amie with her for her alterations appointment. she put on the dress and it was beautiful. it fit her perfectly because it was custom made. when she first showed me the dress on the hanger and covered in protective plastic, i was not impressed. but on her...with the light shining just so...it was beautiful--she was beautiful. the seamstress pinned the hem, added padding to the chest, and asked what kind of bustle she wanted: traditional or french? she said french and i watched her pin it up since, as the maid of honor, i would have to take care of something like that. on our way home, our mom called from torrance saying that they would be driven to LA soon to board the plane. she told us to be careful.

see, this is the first time my sister and i have been left alone at the house for so long. my mother then has two things to worry about with an added coating of paranoia. sometimes i roll my eyes at my mother's fears. we live in a safe city. we have two locks on our doors when our neighbors only have one and whe have an alarm system. its not like we live in the ghetto! she should know since she pays so much to live here. but i humored her because she was under a lot of stress.

that night, my sister took me out to dinner and she told me what's been happening to her. she and her fiance have been having problems. i know i've mentioned these sorts of things here before--how his mother and brother give my sister so much grief. well, that day all the anger and resentment came to a head. she told me--very loudly for a restaurant--how she had gone with her fiance to disneyland in order to get her mind off our grandfather's illness. his mother called his cell-phone while he was there asking him to call her back. my sister said to wait to call her back since she really needed him to be with her right then. he called his mother back anyway, leaving my sister to cope on her own. it seems like a small thing, but this has happened so many times before. when my sister needs him most, his mother calls him and he forgets all about my sister. and do you know why his mother was calling him that day? to inform him what it would be like to visit our dying grandfather. THE FUCKING NERVE OF THAT WOMAN!!!! he is OUR GRANDFATHER! DON'T YOU DARE TELL YOUR SON WHAT IT WOULD BE LIKE TO VISIT OUR DYING GRANDFATHER!!! YOU DON'T EVEN KNOW HIM!! she was saying things like: "he'll be unconcious when you walk into the room, so the doctor's will have to give him something to keep him up. he probably won't recognize you because he's so drugged..." HOW DARE SHE!!! HOW DARE SHE TALK THIS WAY ABOUT MY GRANDFATHER! SHE DOESN'T EVEN FUCKING KNOW! and it only makes it worse that she says these things knowing full well that we won't be able to see him at all! she didn't even have a good reason to tell him these things because we wouldn't get to visit him as he's in the philippines. we were stranded here. and the worst of it is, my sister's fiance listens to her. he turns his back on his one love to listen to what his mother says. and he doesn't understand why my sister is so upset. he and his father are both cowards who can't stand up to his mother. once, when she interrupted them in order to talk to her favorite, younger son, my sister's fiance turned to her and said, "you should have done something." SHE IS YOUR MOTHER! you stupid coward! she is your mother. you should have said something, not my sister.

so while we were eating, my sister was telling me all these things about how his mother has been dominating their lives and how my sister is always left to fend for herself since her own fiance won't help her. i told her that she was being treated badly and that she should return his ring. she agreed. just in case, she called over her wedding sponsor to discuss things. the sponsor said that that would be a bad idea and that she should talk it over first. i shook my head silently. if he doesn't understand her now when she repeatedly tried to explain, he'll never understand.

wednesday comes and i'm distracted at work. alex notices and tells me that i need to shape up.

i come home and there's nobody there. so i call my sister to ask her if she needs dinner. she's crying on the phone: "i gave back the ring. i can't believe i just did that." as she's cried so many times over the past three days, i was sick of hearing her sob. she said she's going to her sponsor's house for advice. i hung up and buried my face in my hands.

i felt so alone. i felt like everything was falling apart around me and i was the only one left standing. my mother and father were in the philippines with my ailing grandfather. people were still calling the house to RSVP for the wedding and for the bridal shower. and my sister had returned her engagement ring to her fiance.

i muttered to myself angrily that somebody needed to go on with life normally so i changed out of my work clothes ate a wholesome meal with cherries for dessert and watched an episode of batman to hold me over. my sister calls sometime later to make sure her fiance was not waiting outside to intercept her. i told her that he was not. she told me she was bringing over a guest of her sponsor's who was staying here to better her english. i hung up, ran upstairs, changed out of my pajamas into something presentable. i cursed and cursed as i skidded around the house fixing things up. nothing could be done about the mess in the kitchen, for i didn't want to misplace any of my mother's work. when they came through the door, i smiled. "it's a little bit messy," my sister cautioned and i gave her a look. sometimes i don't think she realizes how much work it takes to live with her.

yesterday, thursday, i took over sydney's shift in the morning. alex asked me to check in books. as i've never done it before, it took me longer than usual. this annoyed her and she checked what i was doing. she told me that what i was doing was wrong. "haven't you been shown this before? you got this wrong last time, didn't you?" and i said, trying to keep calm, "no, i have never done this before. that was amy." that woman is driving me nuts!! despite what i said about never having done it before, she was still cross with me for the rest of my shift and i was glad to leave. i ran some errands after work, got gas, got a carwash, went to the bank. when i got home, my sister was using the computer and kept muttering about how much she hated microsoft word. i made myself some lunch and watched some SNL reruns while i waited for her to tell me she was ready to go to the gym.

when we got home again, she spent almost half an hour on the phone with her sponsor while i heated dinner and, again, fixed up the house. that familiar sense of loneliness, of being the only one with sense around came over me. she thanked me for getting everything done and then spent the rest of dinner talking about life after her fiance. we both mentioned the huge wedding that was still being planned, but agreed that getting married just so my mother's money wouldn't be wasted was the worst reason to continue with the wedding. we watched emma after dinner then i went to bed.

at 6am this morning i awoke to hear my sister sobbing again. i groaned softly into my pillow thinking that sobbing was just the way to start the day and curse that fiance of hers. i woke up again at 10:30 and got up to eat something before going to work at 1. i found my sister still in her bathrobe with a towel around her wet hair sleeping backwards on her bed. there was a photo album opened in front of her. i woke her gently and asked her why she wasn't at work. then i turned to turn off the alarm so i could go downstairs to the kitchen and eat.

"wait. come back."
i turned to face her quizzically. it was an odd thing for her to say.
"Lolo..."
"what is it?" i said and i never realized that my voice could sound like that: so tense, so fierce.
she waited a little, then said, "he's gone."

i didn't cry, but i did sit down in my dad's office chair, hiding my face behind the partition. all i could think about was my mother. how hard this must be for her. this must have been why my sister was crying so early in the morning.

"who told you?"
"Ate."
"Ate Adrienne?"
she nodded.

i sat for a little longer, then got up, deactivated the alarm and headed for the stairs. i asked her if she was going to eat and she said, yes, she should. we didn't talk about it as we ate, although i accidentally mentioned the wedding.

i had to use our oven to heat two rolls i wanted to eat and to me that seemed like a waste, to heat our huge oven just to bake two rolls. i told my sister that we needed a toaster oven to save energy and she agreed. then i asked, "did you register for a toaster oven?" it was only when she paused that i realized what a stupid thing that was for me to say. i meant their bridal registry of course and of course that got her to thinking about her fiance.

after eating, i hurried upstairs and showered. i got out and the phone rang. i went down to turn on the AC since it was getting hot and i saw my sister sitting on the floor in the livingroom, her back hunched, her head down and i wondered who she was talking to. i checked the caller-ID when i got back to my room but it registered the call as one from new jersey. i shrugged and continued to get ready. it was as i was putting moisturizer on my face when i saw a shadow pass the crack of my door. there was a knock and my sister said it was mom on the phone. i paused the CD i was listening to (alicia keyes) and took the phone from her.

about five words into my mother's greeting and she was crying. i bit my lip and couldn't say anything. what could i say? i barely knew him? but i cared for my mother and i wish i were there with her, rocking her back and forth so that she could see how concerned i was for her because i was never one for words, especially in the face of grief. but instead i just listened to her silently as she cried on the other line--a million miles away. she said she was glad that she had me and i reminded her that she had all of us. i said it was going to be alright. i glanced at the clock and said i was going to work. she said she loved me and i waited for her to hang up. then i continued to get ready.

but i felt a prickling in my eyes and a shifting in my nose and i knew i was going to start crying sometime soon. i felt...ashamed that i couldn't weep properly for my grandfather because i hardly knew him. i was worried for my poor, strong mother. still, i dressed into work clothes, asked to borrow my sister's cellphone because mine was out of battery then headed for the door. she gave me one last, big hug, her eyes red and swollen and i thought how i must look, having just showered, fresh and clean as if nothing had touched me.

i walked to my car, the hot sun beating down, the humid almost unbearable. i was breathing fast, coming to a decision. once i was in my car, i started the engine and turned the AC on full-blast. then i fumbled for my sister's cellphone to call the bookstore. there was a terrible moment when i remembered i didn't have the store's number and i thought i would loose my nerve. i called home to see if my sister could get the number for me, but then i remembered i still had my own cellphone, but the battery was dying. i hung up and looked the number up on my phone. lauri answered and i asked to speak to alex. my heart was beating so fast.

lauri came back and said she was on the other line and asked if she could help me. i almost said, no, you can't help me, but instead i gave a shaky breath and told her to tell alex that my grandfather had just died and that i thought i could come into work today, but i found that i couldn't. and i was finally crying, my voice pitching high then low, uncontrollable. she was so sweet to me and said it would be alright, that she would tell alex that i couldn't come in. i told her to tell alex that i would come in saturday. then we hung up.

and i bent over sideways in my car, covered my face with my hands and cried and cried. i cried because my grandfather died and i had used him as an excuse to get out of work. at least, that's how i felt. i cried because i was relieved to be away from alex and her sharp comments. i cried because i couldn't cry before to comfort my mother. i cried because i was a horrible, selfish person. i sat up again and saw two children race around on their driveway, their curly hair blurred by my tears. then a minivan backed out of the garage and the happy family drove away. i turned away from the window and brought my legs up for comfort. and i sat in my car, my head resting on the back of the seat feeling the AC blow on my skin--sometimes crying, sometimes just sitting.

then i remembered lauri mentioning something about alex calling me back. if i weren't home when she called, then alex would think i was playing hooky. so i dried my eyes and emptied my nose with my handkerchief, waited until some of the red in my eyes had subsided, composed myself in front of my mirror and shut off the car i hadn't driven anywhere.

i opened the door and half-expected to see my sister sitting on the couch staring at nothing. but instead the washing machine was on and i heard a voice from the kitchen ask, "what happened?"

she appeared some seconds later and i told her that i had called out of work. she took one look at my face and i know she knew i had been crying, even though i had tried to hide it. she gave me another hug, then i asked her if we could call mom and dad back.

as i talked to them, apologizing to mom for not being able to talk more earlier on, we got disconnected twice. the third time, i gave up.

the doctors said that he had been a fighter, having survived his bout in the ICU. when he died he was in a regular room, and he was supposed to be released. he was doing fine. then he began to shiver, as my dad told me, and the doctors came. after his heart had stopped, they had tried to revive him for 40 minutes. the day before he had been making jokes in his hopital bed.

i asked her if she read him my letter. she said she had. i asked her if he understood what i had written, and she said she wasn't sure. when she said that i cried again. my sister had bought a necklace from Tiffany's for him to hold so that if he died, my sister would have something that he had touched. i felt inferior.

that was my week. tonight my sister is leaving with her fiance for "marriage encounter", a retreat they signed up for before the fighting. they have to go to this retreat in order for their marriage to be accepted by the church, so there's no getting out of it. she will be gone from friday to sunday and i will be here alone, save for my aunt who will be spending the nights with me so i'm not alone. my sister loves her fiance, but she wants things to change, and she hopes they will after this retreat. i have my doubts.

my grandfather was a fighter. his name is Miguel Antonio Del Rosario.

animalia

so. i'm trying to loose weight for this wedding. or, actually, my mother tells me i need to loose weight so i am just to keep her from breathing down my neck. i'm beginning to think that this wedding has become a convenient excuse for my mother to make me feel entirely miserable. first she tells me i need to learn how to dance. now she tells me i have to loose weight. what will happen once the wedding is over?

i suppose its good for me, but if you knew my mother, you would be hard-pressed to admit it yourself. what with her exaggerations: "you'd better loose that weight or else we'll have to rip the seams of that dress and add fabric just so that it will fit around you..." she makes me hate myself.

aside from the self-loathing, there is the, um, health issue. i haven't had an asthma attack in the longest time. but even though its easy to disregard now, it will never be easy to forget--all throughout my childhood i wasn't allowed to do normal things. i wasn't allowed to have a dog or cat, i wasn't allowed to run around, i wasn't allowed to go to a lot of outdoor things because asthma can be triggered by an enormous amount of stuff. i had to nebulize often and once i got really sick during a trip to New York and New Jersey over Christmas. but the doctor said i would outgrow it and i clung to this small bit of hope.

as i got older in grade school, i could feel myself growing out of it. i played hardcore basketball from fifth grade up to seventh and i could participate in the annual jogathon. during P.E. i wouldn't sit out the class anymore. i had a best friend--she had no asthma and she had no shame, and while we ran laps in P.E. i did everything i could to keep up.

i think the last time i was really sick with asthma was...junior year of highschool. i was coughing a lot, so much that i couldn't breathe, couldn't sleep. in the end, my mother brought up one of the beach recliners and i had to sleep on that, with my back elevated. but this wasn't comfortable for me and i slept little. i tried returning to my bed early in the morning, but i started coughing all over again. if you've ever had asthma, you'll understand me when i say that i was completely miserable.

now i am 19. and as i jogged with my father this evening, i felt that familiar burning in the lungs, the tightness. i stopped running after two rounds and felt the constriction in my chest--a thing i haven't felt in the longest time. i coughed once, twice and that was it for me. i walked the remaining 6 rounds.

sometimes i feel like i'm falling apart. i got my asthma from my father. coupled with the asthma is eczema which has marred my hands for the past 16 years. i inherited hypoglycemia from my mother. of course, i didn't know this until i collapsed in the bathtub one day. that's the closest i've ever come to fainting.

i suppose i'm writing this just to prove that you don't need to have a good reason for doing something. a lot of joy comes from doing something you know you can do. and while it gives people more happiness to do things they thought they could never do, there is always that steadfast, reliable happiness of running three miles because you can, or sleeping in a beach chair because you want to and not because you have to. i cannot run three miles, but i can read of places farther than that. i can't race a car, but i can drive aimlessly if i needed to. i have my imagination, i have my dreams and some say that these will take you farther in life than anything else. i might not be strong like my mother, but they say i'm a slippery fish and i guess that's something in itself.

i suppose for every shortcoming there is a talent.

mu.sic

there is so much i don't know. its easy to be familiar with popular culture these days, but what about those things under the radar, those things that are the work and pride of obscure people?

when i used to work at P1, i worked with a gentleman who now goes by the name GB. he did not stay long--maybe a month or so--but it was long enough for me to find out that he is some kind of celebrity. he was on the front page of the OC Weekly (a periodical that i unfortunately despise) and he had a CD coming out sometime in October. then he disappeared and i never heard from him again.

then today i stumbled upon a website: sound in color. and i was introduced to a whole new world of music that i had never known before. because my sister likes some levels of obscure music, i've listened to some names that would be unfamiliar to people on the street--one of the artists i particularly liked is named jaguar, although i'm not sure what her album was called. she mentions hand-me-down shoes in one of her songs. but the artists listed on these websites (GB included since he is the label's new star) are beyond any "obscure" artists i've ever heard of, and yet when i googled some of the musicians on that site, i found sites dedicated to such music. one website called "amplified" has an interesting motto: music undiluted or something like that. what's wrong with liking mainstream music?

well, if someone asked me what's wrong with liking mainstream reads, i'd have something to say about that. to each their own.

finding things like that just remind me that there is so much i don't know. about lots of things. it keeps me humble, but it also gives me an unsettled feeling...like there are people out there i might not ever meet because of the barriers between us. things that we don't know, things that we don't have in common. humans are held in such high regard, but when it comes down to it, there is so much we can't do. we can't know everything there is to know, we can't meet everyone there is to meet on this good earth. these days, you can travel the world in less than a year and some people take this for granted, thinking they've seen it all just because they've traveled the globe. but that isn't it at all. it takes a lot to know something, it sometimes takes even more to acknowledge something. seeing isn't enough.

bah. there was so much more i wanted to say, but i went on that tangent and now i can't remember what it was i wanted to add. lucky you.

i'll probably remember in the middle of the night, or when it's least convenient. memo to me: keep pen and paper handy...

cheers and happy fourth of july!