8:17 pm | to go or not to go
Posted by Paurong sa Linggo, Abril 16, 2006
A minute before the clock struck three, as I was lying on my bed, last Thursday, I received this text message from my aunt: Hi toy! Mag handa k 6pm daanan k namin. Dala k towel at swiming trunk. (Hi toy! Get ready, we’ll pick you up at 6pm. Bring towel and swimming trunk.) It was apparent to me that she was talking about the “swimming” thing she was urging me to consider.
Three weeks ago, I suppose, she had mentioned it to me that she would treat me and two of my friends to a “swimming” something in Roosevelt, whereupon I sort of had taken it lightly that I asked Joan about it. But then, I had realized that Joan is going to the province this vacation, and Joanne would not be permitted to go out at night. Therefore, my two best friends couldn’t come.
Last weekend, my aunt asked me to come with her and his husband to that “swimming” thingy and assured me that I will “enjoy” it. I felt empty that time that that thingy wouldn’t be so satisfactory for me; I refused to go, having no authentic reasons at all. I told my grandmother to tell my aunt that I wouldn’t bother to come because I just don’t want to. I had lain on my bed to know that she phoned me again. I went downstairs to grab the phone. I was totally wordless, pathetically mute, as she was shouting at me over the phone telling me that I wasn’t realizing that if she tells me I would certainly enjoy the “swimming” thing, I would certainly do. She cried that nothing will happen if I will not go outside and do “something else”. She hung up before she could possibly let me speak a word, which would truly be preposterous for me to be so.
Her text message made me temporarily speechless, not that it has been some months ago since the last time she asked us to go out but because I totally do not want to go out. I’d rather stay up on my bed, sleep, read a book, or blog. But then again, I realized that I have to learn the word “enjoy” in an outdoor basis, which requires energy and social ability. I ignored her text message. Instead of deciding whether to go or not, I slept and told myself to wake up at five before things start messing up.
I was awoken, probably, by my aunt’s din. She pummeled me with reminders for what we’re up to that night. It is so weird for my part, to take for granted everything she was saying. She’s a pretty, smart woman with exquisite workmanship and a good job.
Ate Vivian and Tito Denver has buckled up. It took me a long time to realize that I was already inside the car, with my aunt, her husband Tito Denver and his nephew, Penpen and niece, Kaye. I had with me my towel, body spray, deodorant and what else, brief, of course, and the swimming trunk, which was snatched at a near department store (o, don’t be so silly, we didn’t do any crime, it’s just the best word to explain what happened because it was really a fast procurement, okay?). I wasn’t talking to anyone inside the car. Yes, I know them for years but it’s so rubbish for me to converse. I’m innately unconventional! I don’t want to talk to people I am not suppose to talk to. I was suppose to ask my Tito how’s his job or query his niece’s preparations in entering high school or know the silly deeds of his nephew or ask my aunt about anything or to gab them my incongruous action. All of those are inconsequential. We passed Eastwood and I remembered Sitel, the place where Jay and Faith work. They are two of ideals of blogging. Likewise, I always keep in touch with what they are writing. I asked my aunt about the company but she said she has no idea about it. On and on, we’re driving. Everytime my aunt cracked funny, silly things, I couldn’t help but laugh soundlessly while most of them guffaw.