I've gone AWOL from my family and friends last year because of the fact that I got pregnant (again?!). Aside from the fact that I was not ready to face them with their cross faces and insulting inquiries, I was not ready to face the subject of me being pregnant again.
I do realize the fact that babies are little miracles, however, you begin to think twice about it being miraculous if it's happening too often. Don't get me wrong, I am happy with my children, but if they only gave me the chance to re-schedule their grand entrances to this world, I'd have them really spaced out with a max of 4 years in between. Oh well...
My OB thinks I'm a a hard-headed idiot.
My kid's pedia thinks I'm just plain childish and careless,
My friends think I'm grabbing opportunities to be pregnant as if it was on sale -- with a major 80% slash off the retail price, My acquaintances have lost track already of the count but such memory deficiency is not holding them back from talking about me being pregnant for the nth time already.
My bestfriends are groaning "puhhhllleeeaassee....stop it!",.
My assistant rolled her eyes,
At least my little brother was indifferent...
And my mom...God knows what my mom was thinking...but let me tell you...it is not very pleasant and mostly likely it involves a murder plot aimed to bring down a 6ft giant.
And so I abstained from any social contact and limited myself within the four corners of my home...It's not hard to do, I move in a very limited social circle anyways -- all i have to do is just to pull the strings tighter to make that social circle even smaller. The social tug of alienation began and my being an introspective and my cynicism only deepened.
I've learned to become more observant and to act blank when i meet new people (don't get me wrong I'm not the next Albert Einstein either). I learned something fascinating -- i noticed how people become so interesting when they think your dumb...They become careless and they ignore you giving you every opportunity to dissect their personality, put it under your subjective microscope, and gaze at it -- as it jump up and down, back and forth to your satisfaction...
This often amuse me and it would be cruel to talk about it with other people...so I just remain silent in my corner if I'm ever in one of these rare occurences of meeting someone new...definitely spaced out with a semi-senile grin...Funny how they would all turn to look at me, as if on cue, every time I have this idiot smile on my face, an expression so out of place, that they'd shake their head in pity of me. nabuang na guro, ingon nila.
They'd ask me with feign interest and would give me a fake invitation to their conversation, a discussion I wasn't really listening to because I busy with my cruel scientific character disectomy --
"say, who do you think should win the final cup?"
"err, are we talking about the plastic one ? o kanang mabuak? mas gwapo jud nang mabuak kay dali lang limpyuhan..."
toink! minus 10,000 waffa points! naunsa man ka day oi! go home and plant camote nalang beh!
After a meaningful glance, and an eerie silence, they'd resume to their previous stance of verbal combat as they brush me off aside, not knowing what to do with me and doing everything to show me how to converse right -- just a little short in calling me dumb in my face.
I swear -- somebody would snap if I dared push even further. I can see their eyes twitching. HeHe.
But you see, it may sound as if I do it on purpose, the mistake was honest (yes, dili ko bogo, pero tanga jud ko gang haha!). I am not that mean to purposely irritate anybody -- i mean, i gave them a valid answer, their question, however, is wrong...I mean, oblivious to the ongoing conversation, How was I to know they were talking about some sports' world cup qualifiers...They assumed I knew...their fault they got a dumb answer.
Try asking me a question i know the answer of, and i'll hit the bulls eye. hehehe...i mean, You don't ask a gravedigger about the principles of ballet, you ask him about loam and earth and humidity, you inquire him of bones and stench and the peak season of dying, you cannot, for the life of him, make him gossip about ballet dancers unless,
- one, the said dancers are dead.
- two, he is a gravedigger cum ballet dancer -- tiptoeing his graceful ass in the cemetery --
Anyways, let's leave the gravedigger alone...dli niya sala nga sa patay ra ang mudol niya, trabaho man niya na...neyehehehe... Moving on,Let us, however switch the channel to the number that airs “
Grey’s Leah's Anatomy". --- Saw a friend night and we got into talking…turned out I stirred quite an interesting conversation amongst the medical staff after I gave birth. She informed me that there was an endorsement from me snapping to the resident doctor where I said “excuse me, I’m talking to my husband” (but if I remember correctly, I was so distressed to talk to anybody) to other various sundry stuff that is really not a big deal except that they find me to be a bitch and thus took the opportunity to glutton on me in their conversation.
Darn! I find it to be disturbing because I don’t remember being mean to anybody there except for that time when they were in a hurry to put me in surgery because my baby’s experiencing fatal heart distress but couldn’t find any of my guardian to pay for the down payment in the hospital. I was pushed to call my mom and I remember barking orders in terms of not shutting down my lappy to my brother to telling them that its impossible for us to give any down payment because it’s already 7pm and no bank is open. ( I was just 7 mos and my check up with my doctor turned out to be a major emergency operation) I was kinda explaining when some insensitive (more of tackless really) medical staff chided in with her one line bomb aimed and fired with every intention for it to explode into an insult -- “didn’t you prepare money for your delivery?!” That stopped me -- irked to bones; I dismissed her with a sharp look – am happy that I didn’t say anything sarcastic (but then again – didn’t I say that NO BANK is open?!) – she must be the kind to bring loads of cash when she goes out, I mean the lady can only be tackless and mean or just filthy rich, no one knows…
And so my opinion, from the highest of position to some of the low ranking help that was present during my surgery escapade clunked to the gutter (naka-una man gud bah hahaha!)… Needless to say, I’m going back to my old hospital.
But then again maybe I was mean to some and my memory just selectively forgot it. One way or another, I struck a nerve, and the nerve sang and choreographed a chorus resulting to an official soundtrack of me.
after a year of recluse and careful hiding, i managed to convince myself that it is now safe to go out. Drat! it was then the bullets started flying. Nanukad ra pud diay ang mga kagwang!