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It was the Summer of '89
Thoughts of summer can't be helped now. The searing heat gets to you, commercials on television advertise all things con hielo and somehow you can't just sit still. The beach is calling, Baguio is beckoning and Boracay doesn't seem so far away.
It's weird but this particular summer, my thoughts go back to 1989. It was probably my most significant summer. I changed that season and I learned so many things:
I learned how to spell my name more femininely. At least there was one part of me that was feminine enough. I learned how to use a comb and a brush effectively. I learned how to coordinate colors.
I learned that neighbors can make really good friends. There were nice enough people out there that didn't care about how you looked (most of the time) and just enjoyed your company.
I learned that beauty was everything to boys. All the beautiful girls had the handsome boys, the cute boys, the jocks the rich boys, the nerds and even the boys who were desperately ugly. Girls like us were left to be the "best friend" or the "shoulder to cry on". I learned early on that personality, with and a sense of humor were my only weapons.
I learned some boys are assholes and will use your naivety to make you do chores that they didn't want to do. I quickly learned to lose my innocence and replace it with sarcasm, cynicism and diabolical plans to rule the world.
I learned that some friendships were never real to begin with. The worst kind of friendship was the kind borne out of pity. Some girls were my friend because they pitied me. I learned not to be patronized.
I learned how to cure a hangover. Drink more or at least drink tomato juice with Tabasco.
I learned how to change myself. I learned how to be stronger, to be more resilient and I promised myself that I would get out of that godforsaken place and show them all what I can do.
***
The sad part is, I did leave and I wish I took some people with me. Going back there was painful.
The roads seemed smaller and the houses were in different phases of decay. Some of the guys were gone while most stayed longer and are thinking about moving.
Some of the beautiful girls got pregnant way to early. One was a widow at 30. They're trying to make do and live one day at a time. The other one, I have no news anymore.
Some of the asshole boys got some other beautiful girl pregnant way too early. They felt trapped in the marriage and feel that they're missing out on life.
Some of the so-called friends are now in a pitiful state. I pity them now but offer no friendship not because I'm cruel but because I'm honest enough to say that we really can't be friends.
Sometimes I still have a hangover but I know how to cure it properly now - lots of water and an advil.
And I never feel the need to feminize my name. I know I've got personality, wit, and a wonderful sense of humor.
***
Ton-ton, Jay, Stella, Kenneth, Armand, Francis, Andre, Toots, Mannu, Fiera, Deodel and Jeanette.
Where are you now?
It's weird but this particular summer, my thoughts go back to 1989. It was probably my most significant summer. I changed that season and I learned so many things:
I learned how to spell my name more femininely. At least there was one part of me that was feminine enough. I learned how to use a comb and a brush effectively. I learned how to coordinate colors.
I learned that neighbors can make really good friends. There were nice enough people out there that didn't care about how you looked (most of the time) and just enjoyed your company.
I learned that beauty was everything to boys. All the beautiful girls had the handsome boys, the cute boys, the jocks the rich boys, the nerds and even the boys who were desperately ugly. Girls like us were left to be the "best friend" or the "shoulder to cry on". I learned early on that personality, with and a sense of humor were my only weapons.
I learned some boys are assholes and will use your naivety to make you do chores that they didn't want to do. I quickly learned to lose my innocence and replace it with sarcasm, cynicism and diabolical plans to rule the world.
I learned that some friendships were never real to begin with. The worst kind of friendship was the kind borne out of pity. Some girls were my friend because they pitied me. I learned not to be patronized.
I learned how to cure a hangover. Drink more or at least drink tomato juice with Tabasco.
I learned how to change myself. I learned how to be stronger, to be more resilient and I promised myself that I would get out of that godforsaken place and show them all what I can do.
***
The sad part is, I did leave and I wish I took some people with me. Going back there was painful.
The roads seemed smaller and the houses were in different phases of decay. Some of the guys were gone while most stayed longer and are thinking about moving.
Some of the beautiful girls got pregnant way to early. One was a widow at 30. They're trying to make do and live one day at a time. The other one, I have no news anymore.
Some of the asshole boys got some other beautiful girl pregnant way too early. They felt trapped in the marriage and feel that they're missing out on life.
Some of the so-called friends are now in a pitiful state. I pity them now but offer no friendship not because I'm cruel but because I'm honest enough to say that we really can't be friends.
Sometimes I still have a hangover but I know how to cure it properly now - lots of water and an advil.
And I never feel the need to feminize my name. I know I've got personality, wit, and a wonderful sense of humor.
***
Ton-ton, Jay, Stella, Kenneth, Armand, Francis, Andre, Toots, Mannu, Fiera, Deodel and Jeanette.
Where are you now?
