Sunday, January 11, 2009

Hop ye Knew Here

Surf upon the rocks.
Gentle rain falls on cedars.
I will fuck you raw.

A haiku of such delicate subtlety about a man's demure affections towards his chaste mistress never fails to impress me with its roundabout way of indirectly implying a mild inclination to... express one's feelings in a more intimate environment.

Now that that's out of the way, I bid you welcome to the New Year's first and only obligatory New Year post of the New Year, 2009. While I'm at it, I'd also like to greet you a rather belated Gay New Year... oh sorry. My ethics adviser requests that I change that greeting to the more proper and politically correct "Fabulous Flaming Bonggacious New Rainbow Year Chorva"

Last year, the 2008 has been a year of great changes both for both better and worse. Stock market prices plummeted, millions have been mired in credit debts, the White House, the Oval Office, to b exact, experienced a c-c-combo breaker and, most importantly, my virgin feet have had its first foot spa and pedicure experience.

On the 25th of December, I have been given a pair of new slippers, or flip-flops, as elitists, socialites and fakers call them nowadays. On the 29th, I have been informed of two commoners who claim to be specialists in stately matters afoot and underfoot. Long story short, I received a foot spa, which left the bottom of my feet soft and pink, and a pedicure, which left my toenails rather nicely shaped.

The commoners offered to paint my toenails, which I politely declined. Much as I admire the humanitarian organization Akatsuki, I don't yet fancy the need to join their ranks. They also offered me a manicure but I brushed them off saying that I am perfectly satisfied doing my own nails. I do remember a female acquaintance remark that I have nice fingernails so I'd rather keep them that way. (I may have poor memories but I do remember compliements given by females. To date, they are: "You're so cute," "You're so smart," "I wish I had slender fingers like you," "You have such nice fingernails," and "Oooh, I like your outfit.") Oh, but what exhilaration rushes into me as I find out that my toenails, once in deplorable shape, are now a nice match to my fingernails!

On a side note that is completely irrelevant to this blog post, I have also received a nice hardbound notebook/journal from an aunt who used to give me the best and worst things. I have once received the book, "Prayers for a Fragile World" but I have also received (and appreciated) a large, tacky hardbound daily planner and several informational books such as Science Explained, 500 Questions and Answers, Amazing Bird Facts and Amazing Animal facts, which I found rather amazing and factual during those pre-Internet days.

Anyway, the New Year came in the night not with a blinding explosion of sparks but a wet shower, if you'll pardon the innuendo (snicker, snicker) It was lightly drizzling but, I suppose, that did not deter people from setting off fireworks. From our balcony, I could easily see the displays over at the next street. Touching my money-laden pockets, (superstition, y'know) I vaguely remembered that my ninong had been rather missing in action last holiday season. Perhaps it was coincidence, perhaps not, but the firework displays seem to be brightest and grandest over in the next street... where my ninong lives.

A twinge of annoyance and irritation later and I found myself staring into the darkness. Oh sure, there were still the pinpoint dots of burning specks left behind by numerous fireworks but half of our village was plunged into darkness, including the next street, where a certain someone lives. To give some background information, our village has three circuits. One circuit services half of it (area-wise) where there are comparably fewer houses. The other two serve the remaining, more populated half. Ah, schadenfreude. Someone down there must be looking out for me.

We had plenty of fruits (superstition again, y'know) and leftovers in the form of several tins of chocolate chip cookies. On the 8th of December, my mom had celebrated her birthday by giving away bags of goods to people afflicted with leprosy. We were left with around 10 bags full of groceries (sugar, noodles, coffee, cookies/biscuits) I have, as the eldest in the family, tasked myself with preventing wastage by assisting in the consumption of endless amounts of cookies. Yes, C is for Cookies.

The first working week of the year, however, was spent consuming the much more perishable fruits. Hardly a breakfast had gone by without fruit, although there were some that consisted entirely of fruit and weak tea. Not that I mind, though. I rather enjoy a breakfast with kiwis but I suppose oranges aren't all that bad. Only, consuming apples, oranges and pears reminded me of those antiseptic white hospital rooms, where people lay dying. If I had brought the grapes with me, I would probably have had a much more vivid picture.

The end of the first working week, however, felt a lot more like the end of April or May. Having been subjected to undue stress, panic and frustration, I am very stressed, panicked and frustrated. I take comfort in the fact that I am still employed and, it seems, still needed. I suppose there are other things to be thankful for but I'd rather wrap up at this point, lest I end up depicting myself as a puppy who just received a friendly pat on its head.

Oh, one last thing I'd like to share: an excerpt from an article that lists the columnists wishes for this year. "May the TV stations realize that entertaining people goes beyond 'ownership' of their stars. Perhaps they could bring back the glory days of entertainment." Perhaps, perhaps not.