a history in theory

Family Day

2011-04-23T17:10:00.003+08:00

Sunday was grocery day with our family. Once a month, right after Mass at Della Strada, we’d drop by Shoppersville and grab the usual – a couple of cans of SPAM, big packs of Mighty Meatys and spiced ham, one of those giant Stik-O containers, a couple of Coke Litros, a box of Frosties for Ate Macy, and a box of Coco Pops for the boys. Then there’d be mangoes and bananas and potatoes and kang kong and other random greenery (a necessary evil). Lots of other stuff too usually, and of course, there’d be the giant bags of ground pork and beef. Oh, tomato sauce and noodles too. And those pre-garlic-ed garlic-bread-in-foil that you can just pop in the oven. Spaghetti was Mom’s specialty for those big Sunday family lunches that’d come as soon as we got home.

The best part of grocery day was when we’d take the side trip upstairs where Shoppersville had the non-groceries. There were school supplies, and power tools, and the aforementioned best part – toys. On a good day, we’d take home a Casey Jones or a Snake Eyes. Well, when we were younger at least. As we grew older, the side trip upstairs meant getting two 8-packs of California Maki rolls. Those were the best too.

More consistently though, the best part of grocery day was picking the fare for the family lunch afterparty – the chocolate bar six-pack. Sometimes it’d be Crunch bars. Sometimes it’d be Krackel. Sometimes it’d be Mr. Good Bar or Butterfingers or Snickers. Oh and the best times would be when it was Alpine Whites or Bar Nones. Too bad they don’t have those nowadays.

Somehow, I’d always felt that chocolate was absolutely made for our family. After all, they always came in packs of sixes. Well normally at least – let’s not count Ferreros or Toblerones, those are special. And definitely not those assorted mini-packs, those are just random. The standard six-pack falls neatly into place. There’s my dad and my mom and there’s the three of us boys and of course our favorite sister. It would always be an even distribution by default. Sure, there’d be bargaining and trading for a future share, or a favor between us – especially when Dad was sick or Mom was on a diet. But since it always started from a point of parity, there was always balance.

Fast forward a couple of years, and the big Sunday family lunch has become something of a rarity in our household. We’ve moved away from Della Strada and rarely go to Mass together. We’ve moved away from Shoppersville and groceries are usually just done by Pedro, our de facto majordomo, after the four of us siblings shell out our household shares after pay day. Dad usually tags along so that he can get out of the house for a little while. Being retired and in a wheel chair can get boring. But the rest of us are often off doing our own thing.

But on those rare Sundays, and the big holidays - those Christmases and Easters, we still do try to have that big family lunch. We’re all grown up now, and sometimes too busy to see each other as often as we’d like. Strange how that is, seeing as we all still live in the same house. Nevertheless, it’s nice to know that we can still fall back into a rhythm with each other. There is still some magic to be had over a couple of Coke 1.5s, and Spaghetti and garlic bread and that pack of Crunch right after.

Somehow, I still feel that chocolate is absolutely made for our family. After all, they always come in packs of sixes and the standard six-pack still falls neatly into place. There’s my dad and there’s the three of us boys and of course our favorite sister. And there’s that extra piece to remind us that it always started from a point of parity. That even now, she gives us balance.

Bayanihan

2009-10-02T04:19:00.009+08:00

What are you supposed to do when you’re held captive by flood water, starving, shivering and dying of thirst? What are you supposed to do when your family tells you to stay where you are, and that they are stranded by 10 feet of water without food or water all in the same breath? What are you supposed to do when your solitary boat can barely fight the current as so many cry for help? What are you supposed to do when your home is being ravaged while you’re stuck a million miles away? What are you supposed to do when your resources have been spread thin by the widespread calamity, and ~~are without~~ have already used up emergency reserves?

These are just some of the questions that Ondoy has left for many of us over the past days.

Fear. Desperation. Hopelessness. Heartbreak. Frustration. Anger. We cycle through emotions as we struggle with what we can’t do. We look for something to blame…someone to blame. After all, what else are you supposed to do?

But for all the questions of what we are supposed to do, the only real answer lies with what we can do. To paraphrase a good friend, if all we have are our hands then we are perhaps better served using them to try and move mountains than to point fingers.

And as a country being tested by this ordeal we have answered and have continued to answer the questions as best we can. Without any semblance of political spin, we’ve been battered and bruised, but we have not been broken.

Sociologists have spoken all too often of our struggles in our quest toward nationhood. But I would like to think that despite all that has happened, we are not to be defined by those that would turn this into a political pissing contest (i.e., pataasan ng ihi), or that would use it as a backdrop for bargaining with the bemoustached devil himself, or those that simply can’t wait to get their drink on. We are not to be defined by those worrying about whether they will still get their baon despite having no classes, or have turned volunteerism into a soiree, or have taken all the confusion as an opportune time for thievery and looting, and other travesties of justice. We are not to be defined by the indifferent, or indisposed, or the otherwise bereft of sensitivity and delicadeza.

I’m more inclined to believe that, if anything, we would be defined by those who can cope amidst the worst of times by wearing a smile, or cracking jokes to keep hope alive. We are to be defined by those who would, in the face of crisis, rise to the occasion whether it be from next door or from far away, in ways both large and small. We are to be defined by those who have performed rescue and relief operations, those who have donated and given until it hurts, and those who have spread the word to spur others to do the same. We are to be defined by those who watched the news and sympathized, and straight up gave a damn. We are to be defined by those who have offered prayers, and have seen the plight of strangers and cared enough to do something, to do anything. We are to be defined by those who have given up the safety of their homes, the little they have, and even their lives so that others may survive. We are to be defined by courage, determination, sacrifice and, above all, selfless and inspiring heroism.

That we are outraged at the former, and that we champion the latter exemplifies what it is we value as a people. It exemplifies that the so-called Bayanihan spirit is at the very heart of our nationhood.

So while for many Ondoy can only be described in terms of rain volume, wind speed, or death toll, may this ordeal be remembered not as just another statistic. May it be remembered for the extraordinary stories pieced together of the Filipino people coming together and pulling through. And this will only be possible if we continue on the fight. That Pateros, Payatas, Cainta, and countless others have not been reached are testament to this. That Pepeng is coming to test us, more so. Rescue and relief are only just the beginning. There is still the need to rebuild all the destruction in the wake of Ondoy and Pepeng and the storms yet to come (whatever form these may take). There is still the need to rebuild lives.

There is only so much we can do. But the operative words there are we can. Yes, all we have are our hands, but it is in our hands that we hold our future. It’s time to move mountains.

For You, the World

2009-04-19T11:37:00.002+08:00

I’m not the friend you’d tell your stories to, or entrust with your secrets, much less the first one you’d call, or text (or tag it seems) at an instance of particular significance. I’m not the trophy friend you carry pictures of, or namedrop when you’re with other friends. I’m not your lunch buddy, or movie buddy or that familiar face you’d look for in a party. I’m not the type you’d go out of your way for, or whose birthday you’d always remember, much less at the stroke of midnight.

I’m not someone you’d ever really miss.

But then that makes sense, because I’m the one who’s always there.

Ex Marks the Spot

2009-03-22T00:05:00.006+08:00

Even in a room, where everyone else was a stranger, I still ended up the one person she didn't hug.

Asked and Answered

2009-03-15T22:10:00.007+08:00

If you never ask, the answer is always no.

Zig Ziglar? Bob Ong? Some random brilliant person always comes up with this stuff. You can’t seem to deny such things as truths of the universe. Verily, that’s what makes them quotable quotes. There’s just something that has you believing.

Soon enough I find myself overanalyzing our every little conversation, noting her body language and even the little nuances of her texts and approaching the council for (blind-leading-the-blind but nevertheless necessary confidence-building) advice. There’s really little else to do. So coming to the conclusion that the go signal has been given, and just because it’s Wednesday and that new movie that just came out is supposed to be good and because the mantra has me believing –

Sorry, I’m busy.

Oh universe, you’ve let me down once again.

And while utterly crushed, there’s still a certain sense of…hmm just a momentary setback perhaps? On the strength of the initial build up, there is the belief that maybe she really is busy. You know, just this one time. So maybe next time I can try again. And soon enough, half-day naman, plus it’s Christmas, and on Christmas, you tell the truth, and after all if you never ask…

Sige, let’s see later…

Yes, on Christmas, you receive gifts just because and at that moment, I realize what a happy holiday it really is. All on the sheer strength of mere hope or expectancy.

Then again, the moment is but fleeting. And we know how this stuff is universal truth. Because between now and later,

Uy, something came up…

And I can’t really fault her for that now can I. I just bought into the idea. And while what I hoped for never came to fruition, well, even the law finds nothing wrong with that. Since, I don’t particularly believe it was sale of false hope at least. At the time.

And soon enough, I find myself thinking that it’s always something. And all that’s left is to find out if I should stop asking. And so I do.

Yes. I’m sorry.

After all, if you never ask…well there’s your answer.

Cinderella Story

2008-10-20T15:14:00.006+08:00

“Look, a shooting star,” she said while excitedly pointing up towards the night sky. What was usually just a blanket of darkness was quite a spectacle on this particular day. The city lights had given way for a brief twinkle of magic. She closed her eyes for a moment, reveling in it.

“Making a wish?”

I couldn’t help but smile as she floated a little nod. There’s certainly nothing wrong with a little wishful thinking every now and then. Despite what the night’s pleasant surprise might have us believe though, nothing happens overnight. These things we wish for and want? These aren’t in the stars, and not for the stars to give. It’s for us to make things happen.

“It’s getting late, I have to get home na ata,” she remarked. I concurred and we slowly headed back to the car.

The things you earn, these are here to stay. They won’t be magically taken away from you at the stroke of midnight. There are no Cinderellas.

I clutched her hand tightly.

No, they won’t just go away.

as inspired by the Be Legendary Ad Campaign – the Clocktower

Symphony

2008-09-30T23:25:00.008+08:00

the shrill rhythm palpable
against the somber backdrop

the leather strings
tremble with tension

but there is no applause
at the final curtain

Salt in the Wounds

2008-09-22T22:55:00.008+08:00

“Hindi ko siya mabasa, pare,” exclaimed Jamie as he downed another Light. A cold bittersweet beer can make for better company on such days. Girl problems again, and that meant mahaba-habang inuman. He talked about Renee often enough even on the better days. He went on about how on good days, she would be sweet and could make anyone smile. And how on bad days, she’d be distant and freeze him out. But on the best days? She could be damned confusing. “Hassle kasi pag mapapaisip ka pa.”

He missed her on those bad days. Quite a bit, in fact. There would be long stretches where they wouldn’t see or talk to each other. And it killed him. Every time. Well at least it used to, anyway.

“Alam mo tama kasi si the Rock –“

“-Smell what she’s cooking?”

“Gago! Know your role!”

There is some truth to knowing your role and shutting your mouth. Dealing from a position of weakness means not being in a position to be demanding in any way shape or form. Jamie and Renee are just friends after all. There aren’t any barkada or best friend privileges in play here and he had to know his place. That’s how friends are – no strings attached. Supposedly.

Even then, he had to deal with all the awkward sidestepping that pervaded their relationship. And friendship is a relationship. “Parang brilliant dance kasi,” that Jamie would have to take with a grain of salt. After all if he mattered to her in that way then they might’ve had music to dance to by now. So it became necessary that he condition himself to be stronger. And that meant learning to be numb. A painless death every time.

“Cheers!”

Another Day

2008-09-10T21:18:00.007+08:00

Only supposed to grab a quick bite to eat at McDo Katips after a long day in BA, she’ll find herself stranded in the instance of a sudden downpour. On such days, it can be unnerving to see how the universe seems to sometimes conspire against her and steal her sunshine. Because if you’ve ever met this girl, even for some brief random episode, you know she deserves better than another one of those days.

But on such days, let not her grumpy demeanor fool you. If you need it, she won’t hesitate to give you a nice tight hug. And even if you don’t, she’ll give you one anyway just because. She’s sweet like that. And that’s why she’s so easy to get along with…masarap kasama. That’s why on those days, you can’t help but want to help her find her smile. She deserves as much.

Broken Dreams

2008-09-05T15:56:00.006+08:00

The clock blinks ones as I rouse from what should have been a quick power nap. These new fangled digitals have really useless alarms it seems. And I’m supposed to be a lighter sleeper than most. Newer technology doesn’t always mean a whole lot really.

Oh well.

At least 11:11 means that I get to make a wish. And as I prep myself for the rest of the coming grind of yet another all-nighter, I find that thinking of a wish is taking a bit more effort than it’s worth. It appears I don’t really know what I want to do with myself…anymore.

As a kid I had grandiose visions of what now seem to be the silliest of things. Like pretty much every 5-year old, I had dreams of everything from being the President of the Philippines taking charge of my people and mother country to becoming an NBA superstar eclipsing even Jordan’s legacy.

Then life happens. I too was a witness to the reality of the Eraps and the GMAs and their fall from grace. This goes for the great Johnny A’s apparently misplaced hopes in securing even a 10-day contract as Muggsy part deux with the Charlotte Hornets as well. Such things provide much in the way of disillusion for even the most naïve of dreamers.

But other matters of consequence weigh heavily on my mind and soon enough, on my eyes too. 2:30 marks the time for another break from all these numbers. After all, this will have to give way for my sanity even if for a little while. The reprieve allows me to realize that I never did get around to making that wish.

Too late.

Snakes and Ladders

2008-08-25T22:59:00.009+08:00

"uy, pwede bang..."

The set-up is familiar enough for pretty much any guy who has ever tried to escape the clutches of the dreaded friend-zone. No favor is too burdensome, no gift too sweet. No time is too early or late, and nowhere is ever out of the way. It's always no problem because for her? the world.

"...sure, no prob Ü"

Ladder theory supposes that one falls into one of two ladders in the female mind: one for friends and another for those with the potential for something more. The male mind has a notable difference in that it's supposedly consists of only one ladder that makes no distinction as far as this potential is concerned.

"super thaaaaanks! Ü"

And it is this same distinction that translates into the male mind's naive belief that this mindset of his applies to hers (ie believing that the potential for something more is not unrequited). Therein lies the rub. It's what has you waiting on hand and foot like a little lap dog. And being the happy doormat that you are, find yourself muscle-smiling all the way through.

"wala yunÜ"

It's not so much that nice guys finish last. If you can't win, you have no choice but be nice.

"..."

"uy, pwede bang..."

But then again, Strauss's adventures as Style tell us a real life tortoise and the hare story. If you bring your A-game you should invariably come out on top. It shouldn't matter that you're playing with a handicap.

"...sure Ü"

Probably So

2008-06-24T14:44:00.008+08:00

0’ So, nine changes for Croatia who bring back all their big guns, Turkey have fielded whoever is fit or not suspended. Our soccernet colleague at the game, Dale Johnson, has mentioned that all but two Turkey players are on one yellow card. Already with their captain Emre, their starting keeper Volkan, and the influential Mehmet Aurelio among those unavailable, if they go through they may only have about six players left to field!

Favorites, mortal locks, sure things – call them what you will. Guarantees be damned, hindsight reminds us that “supposed to be” isn’t really worth all that much. And that, as has been proven time and again, you can’t always count out the underdog. There’s a reason “upset city” is just as cliché. We are after all talking about a game with human elements. And that’s enough to ensure that things go beyond simple probabilities.

124’ GOAL! Croatia have left it late but surely they’ve won it. Amazing! Modric goes on another run, Rustu came wandering out as the ball broke and as Modric swung it in Klasnic nods into the net from six yards out! Poor old Rustu! He's looked uncertain all night and now he's stumbled into no-mans land right at the death! Fatih Terim is apoplectic.

Of course there are those times, when you get it right – when the experts were right smack on the money. And all you can do is breathe a sigh of relief as you beat the house for once.

126’ GOAL! Semih has equalised!! Turkey are level! Unbelievably amazing!! A long punt downfield breaks to Semih who has whacked it into the roof of the net!!

127’ What is it with Turkey and comebacks! We've sat through nearly 120 minutes of turgid football then witnessed two minutes of incredible drama. The full time whistle went as soon as the ball hit the net.

127’ Penalties to follow!

What compounds matters is when you’re already ahead at some point, but by sheer force of ~~God~~ ~~luck~~ will you move from being in the money to being in the red. Disaster. Because until that final whistle, a moment of sheer magic is all it takes to turn things around. But you still hold on to that last glimmer of hope. You have to believe the pundits were right – that the numbers and probabilities did not lie.

129’ Croatia must score. Petric steps up... Petric misses! Rustu saves and Turkey are through! You can't say they deserved it, and they might struggle to field a team in the semi-final given all their injuries and suspensions, but my word Turkey don't know when they are beaten! The Croatian players are crushed...

House wins. Game over.

*Actual live commentary from ESPNsoccernet

Revisionist History

2008-06-22T14:31:00.010+08:00

She handed me her keys. The 3 o’clock Balara grind was something she was all too happy to pass on to me. I had a tiring day too, no doubt, but of course I still oblige. It’s only right…right? I rather enjoy the in-car conversations anyway. There’s just something about open windows, Magic, and her in the passenger seat. That’s all you need right there. Well all I needed apparently.

There was never going to be an easy answer to that question. Because for whatever reason, it’s never quite as simple as laban or bawi no matter what Joey de Leon might want us to think. But then again, maybe it should be. Maybe it should be enough to like someone and just go from there.

And for all my question marks, she always provided such stark contrast. She was always fairly sure about things. When holding her hand, it had to be her right with fingers interlocking. She needed to get the report-to-commander call by 8 because her parents were early sleepers. And now she wanted to see Sex and the City at Greenbelt.

And of course there are the other things. No other girl friends (actually at times no guy friends either) lest you feel the wrath of random jealous fits. The constant PDAs or even the need to be hugged or held all the time regardless of what mood you may be in. And there’s pretty much no compromise for any of these little things. So not surprisingly, it never seemed on the whole as something I could reasonably provide for her (at least not at the level she expected anyway). And in a word, it was all so ~~clingy~~ suffocating.

Or maybe that’s all just a whole lot of rationalization. Because, after all, once the choice is made, you can’t really go back and change things. For all his insanity, perhaps there’s a little bit of the Joker in all of us. Maybe we all remember our past in many ways. After all, having a multiple choice history does make things more ~~interesting~~ convenient.

But in the end, it’ll probably make us more crazy than happy too. Natuldukan na eh. And maybe that should be enough.

I give her back her keys...and go from there.

So Much For Umbrellas

2008-05-04T18:41:00.007+08:00

It figures. It always rains when you forget to bring an umbrella. The universe is cruel that way I suppose. Not quite my wedding day, but Alanis was right apparently. Oh well. It at least gave me a little break before class – some time to think. Titila rin naman eventually.

Had it been a slight drizzle, linaban ko na sana. Ano ba naman ang kaunting ambon. But it really was pouring. The rain came down hard, crashing relentlessly against the pavement. It was a wall of water at this point. It was hopeless. Wala…late na talaga.

Punta ka Econ?

I looked up to see a somewhat familiar face. I don’t really think I had met her met her before then though, or maybe I just couldn’t remember her name. I’m pretty bad with names and faces. Apparently, she was in my class. Come to think of it, her voice seemed familiar enough. I faintly recall her reciting every so often. Not nearly enough to be one of those annoying pa-star types you have in every class. But enough for me to figure she was a smart one, this girl. Kind of cute too.

Tara, may payong ako.

She didn’t pay much mind to my blank stare it seems. Zoning out will be the death of me one of these days. Needless to say, I took her up on her offer. Who was I to refuse?

I was just a tad taller so napayuko ako. It really wasn’t working for me so I just grabbed her hand with mine and held her hand and the umbrella up for the both of us. The umbrella wasn’t that big – one of those checkered foldable ones you can buy at Philcoa. So we had to keep pretty close. It hadn’t really occurred to me at that point how sweet all this might have been if not for the sheer necessity of it all.

But just as well, it was pretty much impossible to keep from getting wet. So without so much as a word from either of us, we just made a break for it. She was drenched and I couldn’t help but laugh a little. She started laughing too – I was soaking too after all. So much for umbrellas. I figured we’d just end up getting sick going in our air-conditioned class room. She concurred. So we cut class.

So this is how we met met. Not quite my wedding day apparently. The universe is cruel that way I suppose.

Even Though You Never Asked

2008-04-04T11:17:00.006+08:00

It’s strange how she holds such a power over everyone that she comes into contact with. How she touches lives. How she makes you just want to be with her.

There’s just something about her.

Maybe it’s her hair. How she’s content to just leave her mane in a pony. How there are no frills, no hang-ups, and no pretentions to it.

Maybe it’s her eyes. How past the lenses they twinkle with the sheer vibrance of life. How they can face the darkest moments and continue to scream carpe diem!

Maybe it’s her hands. How their warmth and fit feel just right. How they can erase uncertainty with a simple choice between left and right.

Maybe it’s her words. How they can be harsh and frank and speak the brutal truth. How they can find the sweetest segue to moving on.

Maybe it’s her smile. How it hovers between being smug and being comforting. How it never ever wavers.

Maybe it’s her heart. How it holds a childlike innocence. How it’s so so easily broken.

Maybe it’s her past. How she could never quite help herself as much as she did others. How she loved.

Maybe it’s her future. How you have always wanted to be a part of it. How it’s never ever going to happen.

And how you’re still willing to swallow your pride and wait…

Good Company

2007-10-16T00:40:00.004+08:00

“I need someone who can be strong for me,” she told me. “You need a superhero in your life,” I replied. She laughed for a bit and slowly broke back into a smile as she had done so often before. It was an effervescent smile revealing the sort of optimism that one could hardly imagine wavering even in the most trying times. And it was a welcome final impression for the day, as she had to go back to class.

As she picked up her small denim bag and headed out the door, she waved excitedly one more time. I told her to take care, and began fixing up my stuff as well. My now cold white mocha betrayed my intentions for the day. I’m not much of a coffee drinker it seems; I really just stayed to keep her company.

Later on, I asked her how her class was. “It was fun,” she exclaimed. I figured as much; it was with her favorite professor after all. She had grown fond of the particular way that he said her name. Maybe I should sit in one time, and figure out how he does it. It never fails to make her smile. Then again, she’s always been quite joyful anyway.

We really didn’t talk about much of anything the rest of the night. It was just more of the usual small talk, but certainly a welcome distraction from the intricacies of practical accounting. She ended up falling asleep again – as she often did – cutting a conversation about nothing just a little bit short.

In those few moments after I realized she had gone to sleep, I wondered if this was all the strength I had to offer – conversation to pass the time, just a little good company between hello and goodbye. And as I looked back on today, I realized I had it all backwards. It was her strength that I needed really - her smile for which I would always find myself longing. She doesn’t need someone who can be strong for her it seems. She’s all the superhero that she’ll ever need.

A Smile for Two

2004-04-19T08:30:00.006+08:00

I knew college wouldn't be like high school. Back then my world seemed so small and, more importantly perhaps, so controlled. I'd be in school by 7am, and it didn't matter that I was early for class because I had a classroom in which to hang out.

The room wasn't anything special. It had the standard desks and chairs arranged in six neat columns of seven, and the blackboard up front. But for all its ordinariness, it was my room. I'd be out of class by 3pm on most days, but not home until around 5 or 6. Not that I lived that far away though.

On Tuesdays, when my dismissal met up with hers, I would go over to Kathy's classroom just to be with her for a while. The rest of the week I'd find myself just lounging around with Dennis and the rest of the gang, until Mang Jun would ask us to leave so he could finish up his cleaning. That usually signaled for my day's adjournment.

Barring the occasional spur-of-the-moment gimmicks when there wasn't much to do the next day, or when there wouldn't be a class at all, I'd end Tuesday by kissing Kathy goodbye as she got in her white Civic, as I would have to do so too. I would ask Dennis if he needed a ride again, but this was just a formality. I never came home alone.

U.P. just seemed so overwhelming. I wasn't really looking for a fresh start. I was already stable and secure. I had already found my place then, and it just seems so hard to find it again here and now.

Dozens of students fill up the long corridors, some walking hurriedly to class, and others just sitting in front of the rooms waiting for theirs to start. The lobby doesn't even have many people in it yet. There is no rallying there, just the three people sitting by the lobby wall nearest the big clock by the central stairs and a couple other groups of three or four by the posts at the back of the lobby. Everything is already so noisy, as the chatter of each cluster overlaps with the others. And while everything around me seems so alive, I've never felt more alone.

I had always imagined college would be kind of like this. New beginnings are just awkward I guess. But in the back of my mind, I had this assumption that I'd be walking these halls, going to class, having lunch, doing pretty much everything, with Kathy. I keep on forgetting that she's a year behind me. I miss her already. I miss everything about my past already. And I guess I'm really thankful that Dennis is here too. He may not be in the same course as I'm in, but anything that helps with my transition period is certainly welcome. Closest thing to having her around, well, until she actually is around come next year.

As I trek towards my class a resounding "Noel!" catches my attention. I turn around, and there's Dennis right on cue walking past the guard at the entrance. Another figure follows behind him. It's not really a surprise that he's made a friend already. I stop of course, waiting, as they approach. I try to espy his companion, but can't get a clear view. That is, until they're close enough to converse.

It was her schoolgirl outfit that first caught my attention. Complete with the floppy white socks, the short plaid skirt, and cute little white blouse, the only thing missing was the tie. It certainly showed enough of her to accent her fair skin. And the whole schoolgirl image fit her petite frame. In the end though, it was her face that made the most lasting impression.

"Oh yeah, Noel, this is Jen, my blockmate." Dennis' voice snaps me out of my momentary trance. The rest of it seems to trail off right around there though.

She starts to smile in acknowledgement of her introduction. Her narrow lips begin to bridge her softly-defined cheeks. And as she flips her bangs to one side, she reveals chinita eyes that seem to twinkle in complement.

It wasn't a fullblown smile--just a sort of half-smile filled with the warmth of "nice to meet you" and the awkwardness of first meetings. But it was sweet and sincere--the kind of smile you look for in a room full of strangers. And in seeing it, I couldn't help but smile too.