Sunday, January 22, 2012

Those Little Red Packets

It's been a week since I returned my Geo to Suzuki for an overheating problem after the previous week's timing belt adjustment. Since they would only use genuine parts, it was kind of making me very cautious on all my expenses last week. I took public transpo whenever possible (been quite sometime since I was last on a jeepney) and hailing a cab only when there's no other choice. Since it's Chinese new year, it's customary for Chinese people to be generous and give those red money envelopes. With a very generous boss, I received one last Friday. So yesterday, armed with my red packet, I went to pick up my baby fresh from parts replacement and other services. When I got the bill, I couldn't help but smile. The amount was exactly how much I received from my "ang pao," give or take a couple of hundred pesos.

My boyfriend would always feel bad that I never get to enjoy my 'red envelopes' as it is usually spent for Geo, rent, or some other needs. He feels bad that instead of me going shopping or getting a massage, I would have no choice but to spend it on some other things.

I don't feel the same way. I feel so blessed that God gives me just enough, and gives me those little extras whenever I am in need. Thank you po!

Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Rerun

Time and again I say that I'm not gonna wait for you. That it's not worth it, or it's just not gonna happen. I make believe that I had the strength and that I've moved on. But seeing a photograph of you, of us, of how we were before, just makes me want to time travel and repeat those memories...

How pissed I always get when I arrive and you're not there, but one "Hi" gets me frantically looking for my boots.
How you used to call me and sing "Hey There Delilah" and replace the name with Katrina.
How I felt so much like a kid making snowballs and throwing them at you.
How for the first time I sang karaoke and didn't feel self-conscious coz I'm with you.
How I always fall asleep on the passenger seat on our way home.
How I bought new curtains and linens to surprise you with your redecorated room.
How you forgot to file for a leave on our anniversary.
How I wondered why you never cry, and how I cried so much the first time you did.
How you told me what you had to say, and it numbed me for months.
How you showed up three days later at our doorstep--halfway across the world.

And a rerun of the heartaches would just be okay, and maybe now I'll decide differently.