finally. i got it right. now you have a choice. you may either email me at the address you see at the upper left corner of the this page, or post directly in the Shout Outs section. Sorry ignoramus ako sa ganito. This is actually my first time to have a comments box. hahahaha! poor me.

I'm currently trying to finish a novel after not having so for 3 months now. There is a pile of fresh books in my box at home that I never had the time to read. However, since in order to write, I must learn to re-orient myself with the printed word, I figured it wouldn't do much harm to my feignly busy schedule if I would just pick one randomly and begin reading. Of course, making sure I finish it. Right now, I'm on middle of Milan Kundera's highly intriguing book, Identity. While I do not enjoy reading Kundera that much because he likes shifting characters from real to unreal (which can be confusing if you were really aiming at a no-brainer, philosophy-reduced read), I cannot help but succumb to the emotion that he oh-so-profusely throws back at me.

Here's part of the back-cover text:

There are situations in which we fail for a moment to recognize the person we are with, in which the identity of the other is erased, while we simultaneously doubt our own. This also happens with couples -- indeed, above all with couples, because lovers fear more than anything else "losing sight" of the loved one.

The book is available at all leading bookshops. I assure you that you will as enamored with it as I am. It's a love story, yes, but one written with artfulness you would never think of wanting to purchase wine to go with cheese. haha.

For Friendster fans, here's a Wall Street Journal article you might find interesting.

http://online.wsj.com/article_print/0,,SB10657351391797800,00.html

I finally saw my name on the paper. It's not much, I mean, it's not like I've actually written something already, but it feels good to see it typed in boldface. Wala lang. I was talking to Buboy this morning about not getting word about my first brainstorming session with the editors and, kinda, whining that I'm losing interest because of the long wait. Now it's here. My name has been printed. My fears have been washed away and it has been confirmed. I have evidence. I did pass that test. I still can't believe I did because I never thought the type of output I gave during the screening was enough to merit me a spot on the broadsheet. But hey, as they say, kanya-kanyang trip yan. The editors probably saw something I didn't.

So it's official. I'm slowly veering away from the dream novel. I should prepare writing lifestyle (ahem, teenybopper-ish) articles from now on. That novel would have to wait.

I've sold out. hahahaha!

I tried. I really did.

but... uh... the comments function was more complicated than I thought. For those who wish to react violently to any of my posts, or just say HI, go back to sending me email. I have yet to figure out how this damn comments service works. ARgh.

I read mail from the Cosmo people just minutes ago and they're promoting Tara's new book, Almost Married. The synopsis no doubt spells CHICK LIT. Tara's a very good writer. I wonder why she agreed to immerse herself in chick lit when she could do so much more. Have you read her essays? But hey, who am I to judge, right? It's her preference anyway. She's probably having fun writing it. (note: unlike me who's still finding my no-fail topic)

My eyes darted to the far bottom of the email and what I saw somehow shocked me. The book is only 150 pesos! Wow, summit people are definitely into this whole charity-based appreciate-literature BS. It's sad that Tara would agree that her work be printed in newsprint-resembling paper and even sold at gas stations nationwide. The marketing people probably thought it would be the best way to sell the book and make it more available to more readers. Not that I place too high an esteem on Tara's work. I mean, she's not exactly the "IT" writer of the moment. It just appears as though her book, which I'm sure was very well thought of and rigorously edited, was in the same level as Pinoy Tagalog pocketbooks. Seriously. I've seen summit books placed beside those cheesy mainstream novelettes.

Surely Summit could do so much better. Surely Tara deserves more. Which reminds me, I have to contact her about something. ARgh.

I was just remembering back when I was 8 or 10, when blowing bubbles atop my neighbor's fence was the only thing that could make me happy. My friend Jean would sit beside me, our feet dangling some 4 feet above the ground, hands holding plastic cups filled with a concoction of water, ground gumamela blooms and Ajax, and dipping into it tubes cut from papaya leaves to serve as bubble blowers.

We would spend the entire afternoon blowing bubbles at the cars and people passing by. Her house was along the Canelar main road. During our first attempts, she would nudge me gently as if telling me to top her bubbles-per-blow record. Softly, or I might fall. I would try to blow as hard I could to produce more but all I could come up with was a big, wet goop. And not a single bubble.

How she laughed at me. Thinking about it, I can still feel myself turning red from embarrassment. She would keep telling me to blow moderately, not too softly, not too hard. We would practice holding our breaths before we climbed up the fence so I could learn to blow into the tube longer.

But I was asthmatic. The climb up made it more difficult for me to breathe. She always said I could do it because is she can, I definitely could, too. Jean was 4 years older than me. I believed her.

Soon, we were filling the streets with bubbles. Car drivers and passers by would stop a while to wave at us endearingly. (On the other hand, her mother and my grandmother would squeal in fright everytime they caught us dangling. But it was really not a problem.) We would do it again the next day even after we each got a good whipping for our adventures.

I miss her. It's been over 10 years since I last saw her. That time, she was the only one willing to play with me, because other kids wouldn't. She understood me. And she stood up for me and helped me believe that certain inadequacies in life can be surmounted if I desired it. I went back to Canelar last year but I never saw her again. They told me she married some guy and is happily living somewhere in the city with her kids. I wonder if she still thinks of me. Or if she even remembers me.

Because I do remember her, still. Her face is forever etched in my memory. But then she probably looks much different now. And changed; as majorly as I have.

I miss the time when it only took bubbles to bring a smile to my face. I miss that one friend who never introduced me to the concept of impossibility.

I wish I were 10 once more.