Rant: Stupid People Should Not Be Made to Answer Phones

One of the many things on my list to learn in the next few
weeks is how to drive. It has actually been there for years but I just kept
putting it off. So finally, this morning, before I parked myself in front of
the computer for another round of writing/editing/fidgeting (you get the
picture), I took out the white pages, looked up “driving” and sure enough,
there were dozens of entries just waiting to help me be on my way to road
independence. I first called up Socialite, knowing at least two people who
studied there, and was quite pleased with their packages. They have a branch
along Rizal Ave.
which is not too far from where I live.

Before I decided to go with Socialite, I called another driving
school. This one is nearer my place and being lesser known, I figured they
might have cheaper rates. Here is our conversation:

JC: Mag-i-inquire lang tungkol sa driving lessons. (I’d like
to inquire about your driving lessons.)

Grace Driving Institute rep: Driving lessons?

JC: Opo, meron po ba? (Yes, do you offer that?)

GDI rep: Oo. San ka manggagaling? (Yes. Where are you coming
from?)

JC: Valenzuela. Bali
magkano? (How much are the lessons?)

GDI rep: P1800 ang 5 days. (P1800 for 5 days.)

JC: Ah. Ano pang ibang meron? (Are there others?)

GDI rep: Ha?

JC: Meron pa bang iba? 7 days? 10 days? 15? (Are there
others? 7 days? 10 days? 15?)

GDI rep (impatiently): Ano bang gusto mo? 5? 7? 10? (What do
you want? 5? 7? 10?)

JC: Pwede ko bang malaman yung presyo ng lahat? (Can I know
all of the prices?)

GDI rep (said curtly and fast): 5 days, P1800. 7, two-five.
Tapos, three-six. Ok?

 
Then she promptly hung up the phone. Needless to say, I was
very irritated. And this was right after I had a very pleasant talk with the
representative from Socialite who was giving me all the information even before
I got the questions out of my mouth, and was very polite in answering my
additional and not very usual queries. I was tempted to call back and give her
a piece of my mind but then I remembered that I’m a blogger, thus I possess
boundless power over stupid people of the world. What I really did was take out
my laptop and allow my irritation to flow through my fingers.

Minus one student for Grace Driving Institute. And because I’d
like to think that I’m influential to at least five people, and those five
people are influential to five people each… Ha! Do the math, people.

Beware of bloggers.

 
Novel page count: 132

Arrest Gloria

This is my first tibak event in years.

Basically, it's a concert/poetry reading that revolves around the topics of 1. unseating GMA, 2. calling for a peaceful and honest elections, and oh, 3. world peace. It gathers artists and cultural people alike for a night of words and music as we ponder on freedom and/or the lack of it.

It was fun, except I felt a bit cheated because I was waiting for Conrado de Quiros to speak, as promised, but noooo! No Conrado de Quiros onstage! Hmp. Oh well.

Socializing. Again.

Had lunch with my high school best friends, then dinner and a sort-of pool party with d'barkads. :)

The Man Blog Celebraganza 2

So the man blog had another beerfest last Saturday night. As expected, the man-bloggers were hilariously funny and as politically incorrect as imaginably possible. So here are the man-bloggers (or sometimes referred to as "Joni's boylets" by some well-meaning friends).

Exclusive, Never Before Seen Photos of... Baby Iel!

aka. Tababoy, Uod, Buybuy.

Lots and lots of Baby Iel!

Pups for sale!

We're selling pitbulls. P3,000. No papers. Contact me if you, or anyone you know, are interested: 0922-8829800.

Tonight I Can Delete Messages

25 February 2007

Tonight I can delete messages.

It is only tonight, more than a year after LB and I broke
up, that I deleted all of his messages on my phone. We were together for almost
three years so those messages also cover the same span of time. They were
virtually useless. They crowded my inbox. They were not even true anymore.

In the beginning, I refused to delete those messages out of
the foolish hope that we could still get back together. We were good together.
We were happy. We were so in love. And didn’t those messages just prove how
much we loved each other? Surely, we would get back together. After months of
crying myself to sleep and dreaming up scenarios of running slow-mo into each
other’s arms, I started to entertain thoughts that maybe ours would not be the
kind of happy ending fairy tales were made of. Still, I kept them messages. Even
long, long after I stopped hoping we would get back together; long, long after
I knew there was no way we would get back together; long, long, long after I
realized we should never ever get
back together; the messages stayed in my inbox. I would delete what I deemed unimportant
messages from other contacts to have enough space for new ones. When I ran out
of friends’ messages to delete, I would, grudgingly, choose from his messages
and delete one or two that were the least sweet of the lot. Many still
remained.

Tonight, finally, I deleted each one of his messages.

I deleted them one by one. At first, I would open and read
the messages. Be sad for a few seconds then read the next one. After a while it
was just my thumbs doing all the work. There was a time when I thought I would
only delete them once I meet someone I really like, and would probably love. I
have not met anyone that fits the description.

But tonight I deleted them all.

Maybe I finally got tired of seeing “Message inbox almost
full” every time I would get a message. Maybe because I felt the need to
celebrate the spirit of Edsa and freedom in a more personal way. I don’t think
the real question is why I finally deleted the messages. I should have deleted
them a long time ago. They were the last pain that he was making me suffer. The
real question is why I kept them.

I kept them because I felt the need to be reminded that once
upon a time, I was loved.