otherwise engaged.

a random mental scrapbook for things rescued from the detritus of everyday, maintained
by an impossibly romantic, oftentimes obsessive compulsive, but always incredibly
unfrazzled and beautiful (or so she'd like to think), bride-to-be.
Daisypath PicDaisypath Ticker

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A woman who writes feels too much,those trances and portents!
As if cycles and children and islands weren't enough;
as if mourners and gossips and vegetables were never enough.
She thinks she can warn the stars. A writer is essentially
a spy. Dear love,
I am that girl. --from THE BLACK ART by Anne Sexton

Sunday, October 24, 2004


After hearing mass, I checked out Ansons Supermarket
and Department Store. Actually, my intention was just to
buy milk for my cereals. It was too much of a hassle to cross
over to Hi-Top where I usually get my groceries. But, inevitably,
I am always Alice in Wonderland inside grocery and
department stores. In all the fifteen months I've lived in Beatriz,
this is thefirst time I'd gone inside Ansons. Very interesting.
The inside is crammed with a lot of groceries, and there
is even a Swarovski Crystal kiosk which had a lot of lovely
items for sale. Quite pricey, surprisingly, for the place--the
shoppers are all public commuters--there is not even a parking
space. Maybe I can buy my tokens for the female entourage
and principal sponsors from there. Then on my way to the
supermarket entrance I changed my mind about getting my
milk so soon. The department store beckoned. So I heeded
its call and went upstairs. The milk can wait.

On the second floor was the department store, and annexed to
it --I'm not sure if it was a tenant or if it was still part of Ansons--
is an ukay-ukay. I found a sleek grey and lined Theme jacket
for only P220. I could use it for my trip to Hong Kong tomorrow!

[Before leaving for church this morning i had brought my dirty
clothes to the laundry shop. My laundry was short of the 1 kilo
for the minimum load. When I got home I passed by the laundry
shop. Good thing they haven't touched my stuff yet. I managed
to have my jacket laundered as well without paying extra.]

When I finally got my milk (and junk food and Diet Coke and
more junk food), on an impulse my mind rummaged through
its usual mental inventory of stuff I needed to buy for the condo.
Then it just occurred to me, it was pointless--that in less than
a month I will start moving my things to the apartment I will
soon share with Alcuin anyway. Then I was overcome with
mixed emotions. Only last year I had celebrated my freedom
from my sister with whom for many years I had shared a room,
then a condo (even then, we still shared a room because it was
a one-bedroom affair). Then now I will have to share my space
again, with a relative stranger. And I will have to accept that
I will do housework for him (although he says he does
housework) as his wife. I've never cooked and kept house
for anyone all these years, except myself (my sister and I
shared the chores). The thought, I am realizing now, is very


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