Chronicle No.4: The Bare Life

If there is something that my sisters, my mom, my maternal relatives and I have in common,it's trichotillomania - the pathological impulse to constantly pull out or rub one's hair.

When all of us are seated in the living room or are in a gathering, our respective hands would go up to our respective heads and systematically pull out our respective hair. It's a family pastime from the oldest aunt to the youngest cousin, who is reportedly wearing a bandana to conceal her bald patches.

It was during the summer vacation of my sophomore year in high school that a strand of hair was first pulled out from my scalp. On a warm afternoon, with the two o'clock sun streaming through the bedroom window, my sister ,Anne, had a strange look in her eyes. She was staring at my then thick, black and shiny hair and declared that I had a strand of 'dead' hair. She reached out and started caressing the curly and damaged strand. After a while, she asked me if she could pull it out. I was absorbed in a novel about a very poor and atheist girl who went from rags to ultra rich and had several children from different men, and just nodded my consent.

A small sharp sting followed by a ticklish itch radiated throughout my scalp from the spot where the strand of hair was once rooted. That small sensation triggered something deep inside my DNA and changed the relationship between my head and my left hand forever.

It seems that my trichotillomania is connected to the state of my mental activity. Whenever I am reading, watching or listening to something interesting and engrossing, my left hand would languidly stroke each and every one of my hair strands and pull out the severely damaged ones. But, whenever I am answering test questions, writing a report, brainstorming, beating a deadline or in any stressful situation, my right hand would join the frenzy and mercilessly hasten the denudation of my hair.

The four years in law school and ,especially, the BAR examinations are responsible for the state of my scalp today. I must have left at least three strands in each of my examination notebooks as a souvenir for the BAR examiners. Still, some of my hair have lain on Lasallian floors and are probably getting acquainted with the trash in the Payatas dumpsite.

I didn't mind my thinning hair despite the scoldings from my friends and the suggestions by barbers for a hot oil treatment after pointing out the bare spot. I was too preoccupied with other things and my hair was at the bottom of my least-important-things-to-do list.

My priorities changed when I found myself to have absolutely nothing to do. Aside from my Naruto DVD collection and a handful of books, I am now obsessing over hair regeneration.

I was lying on the couch, wasting away from boredom, when I absent-mindedly asked my aunt, who used to be in the practice, for something that could make my hair grow back. She suddenly became animated and endorsed Shane Herbal Oil. She claimed that she had stopped using shampoo and that she rubbed the jasmine-scented oil on her scalp daily. It worked miracles on her hair and proudly pointed out where hair grew back on her head.

Two days later, I acquired a bottle and started to do some scalp-rubbing myself. Every few days, I would ask the relative within arm's reach and ask if anything is growing on my head. They would squint and say that tiny hair are sprouting on my scalp. I would also take pictures of my scalp with my camera phone and complain that it still looks the same.

Two days ago, I met Joanna and Janice at a mall. I was going to meet Joanna, whom I haven't seen for over a year, in an internet cafe. After the initial shrieks and the standard how-are-you's, I bent over to look at the monitor. She saw the thin spot and exclaimed in a voice that carried throughout the cafe,"What happened to that?" and burst into hysterical laughter. Fortunately, the other customers were either busy smiling at their webcams or annihilating their enemies on Ragnarok.

Janice, caught up with us and we went to Mandarin restaurant to have dinner. While we were making our orders, I noticed that the food attendant was staring at me - specifically at the top of my head. For the first time in my life, I felt embarassed about it. But, at least, I am no longer the only one fascinated by it.

The other night, a maddening itch invaded the part of the scalp where I regularly rub oil on. My cousin said that it is a sign that hair is growing. I hope it's true.

Garfield, sometimes passes his time by watching paint dry. I pass my time by watching my hair grow back.

Chronicle No. 3: Judging Lloyd

The universe has a weird sense of humor and I should know because it has been playing a lot of tricks on me ever since I can remember.

Around 9:30 a.m. on a Thursday morning, I received a text message from Butch(see my list of Friends). He wanted me to judge a beauty contest. A beauty contest!? I have been complaining that I am bored and have nothing to do and this is what the universe had dished up for me. I said ,yes, and promised to be there before 2 p.m. This was a chance for me to get out of the house and ,besides, I haven't seen Butch in two years.

I brought my jacket with me as I went out of the house because it was drizzling. Butch, met me at the school gate and we chatted as we walked towards a cluster of school buildings. He gave occassional nods to students who greeted him as we moved along.

Butch, is one of the faculty members of a public national high school. As he led me to the school's computer room, I gathered that he really enjoyed his work. He told me how he likes his students, how he has been coaching a student for a declamation contest and how he is helping the staff of the student publication to do a good job.

Butch, left me to the comforts of airconditioning as he went off to attend to some school matter. I gazed upon the brand new ten black computer units, courtesy of the Japanese government,and wished that I was doing something worthwhile with my life. People younger than me are winning medals, contributing to science, earning millions and, in Butch's case, molding the minds of the country's hope and future leaders. I,on the other hand, have been busy committing the mortal sin, Sloth.

I perused the judging sheets and noted the minor awards.The two other judges and I were expected to choose who was Best in the Production Number, Best in Sexy Jeans, Best in School Uniform, Best in Sports Attire, Best in Unique Creation and Best in Interview. Butch, reappeared and handed me another judging sheet."By the way, you also have to judge the hip hop dancing competition". Great. I can't even do a bad backflip how much more properly judge a dance competition. Another teacher came in and announced that the pageant was about to begin. The other two judges and I trooped towards the school grounds.

The sun was blazing madly on us and students were commissioned to hold an umbrella over our heads. As the contestants romped around in their respective uniforms, the sky darkened. A few moments later, the rain poured down. It was as if the sun and the rain were trying to outdo each other on inflicting the greater discomfort on humans.

We retreated to one of the school's sheds with a group of students. After a few moments, we were escorted back to the computer room. Butch and I chatted while munching on a Skyflake and sipping Pop Cola. After thirty minutes, the rain started to die down and we waited for it to stop.

When we emerged from the computer room, the sky was still an angry grey. The contestants went on to show us how they looked in their sports attire. Most of the contestants opted for the badminton player look. After that, they also wore their Unique Creation, which consisted of two meters of cloth molded to the artistic sensibilities of the contestants or their mentors. The hip hop dancing contestants also did their thing in between costume changes of the beauty contestants.

It started to drizzle again but the show went on. We were given umbrellas minus the servient students. It was a heroic scene, a testament to human endurance. as the three judges withstood the rain under multi-colored umbrellas, seated on plastic armchairs and dutifully jotting down the scores of the contestants unto wet judging sheets. All of us were earnest to choose the worthy Miss Intrams and the best hip hop dancers. When the time to judge the top five candidates came, I abandoned my soaked judging sheet and used the Notes feature of my phone instead.

It was already evening when the pageant finally ended. Contestant No. 1, was proclaimed Miss Intrams 2006 and the freshmen were pronounced as the best dancers. Everybody was happy with the result. I was pleased that I did my job well despite the fact that my judging experience was limited to watching Miss Universe on TV and to have watched You Got Served.

I was whisked away by, Butch, to the computer room and we checked out his laptop. We waited for the rain to end its celebration of its triumph over the sun. It was around 7:30 p.m. when Butch and I left the school and took a jeepney to the mall. He was going to feed me at Lighthouse Restaurant as compensation for my services.

As we dined on kinilaw, spaghetti, fried chicken and pork adobo, Butch confided to me scandalous trivia on the people we know. Apparently, while I was busy committing the sins of Sloth,Pride, Anger and ,sometimes, Gluttony, others have preoccupied themselves by committing Lust, Envy, and Vanity. In short, their lives are more exciting than mine.

I did a retrospect on my life as I rode the jeepney home. Is my life really that boring? I asked myself, whilst scenes of myself reading books, watching movies and eating at restaurants flashed before my eyes. The universe has been playing with me(obviously a sign of paranoia) all throughout my life. Surely, the judging stint I did that day has some significance in the greater scheme of things.

Chronicle No. 2: CGI and Mascot Mentors

" 'Cause I'm all alone and there's no here beside me. My problems have all gone, there's no one to deride me. But, you gotta have friends..."

The above lines were sung by Donkey in Shrek - one of the movies that my niece obsessively and repeatedly watch. I also have the irresistable compulsion to watch a movie over and over again until I can memorize every line and vocal modulation. This is something that my niece and I have in common, but the rejoicing would have to wait until she grows up.Aside from Shrek,my two-year old niece also likes to watch Barbie, Dora the Explorer and Barney.

Barbie is fun to watch, but, I only got to see Barbie and the Magic of Pegasus and Fairytopia. My niece always insists on watching "katong horse(the horse)". At least once a day, I am lectured on the virtues of courage, friendship and love. I also know how to make the Wand of Light -"a measure of courage, a gem of ice lit by Hope's eternal flame and a ring of Love".

Poise is synonymous with Barbie. While walking in the Forbidden Forest, while trying to jump out of a giant pot amidst humongous carrots, or while trudging through the snow, she always manages to do them in a graceful and elegant manner. The most important lesson that one can learn from Barbie is: Posture is everything.

It is also essential to do some singing while exploring. "C'mon, vamonos! Everybody let's go! I know that we can do it. There's nothing to it!" I have become very familiar with the topography of Dora's world, thanks to the Map. The places,through which Dora conducts her explorations, usually consist of a river, rock, lake, hill, mountain and forest. For variation, they may be icy, slippery, tall, thorny or infested with snakes or crocodiles.

Sometimes, I couldn't help but recite along to Dora's instructions. My favorite recite along is:" Swiper no swiping!Swiper no swiping!Swiper no swiping!" I also envy her for her regurgitating Backpack. Who wouldn't want a backpack like that? You tell it what you need and it just spits out the desired object. There would be no need to painstakingly arrange the things in your backpack.

Surreal, is how I describe my Barney-watching experience. Barney, teaches his audience to make believe and to use their imagination. The point is delivered by the program producers by transforming a tyrannosaurus rex into a cute and purple stuffed toy that comes to life.I was horrfied and fascinated, at the same time, while watching a T-Rex prancing around in various costumes. But, I laud Barney for advocating Denial and Escapism. We should use our imagination to escape reality. That is what I always do.

Now that I have learned a lot from Shrek, Barbie, Dora and Barney, there is only one thing to do: Get a life.

Chronicle No. 1: The Unpaid Creditor

I'm not the first person to have been betrayed by a friend but it definitely sucks to be the the betrayee. The treachery really hurts because it had a financial bite to it. I shall refer to the betrayor as 'It' in this written rant.

Have you ever tried to help someone get out of trouble at your own risk? In my case, I risked my financial stability in the BAR exams. I lent my funds to It so that it could pay its debts and avoid being harassed by its creditors. I know you want details but I have gotten tired of reciting my oral history to all those who want to know. I just want to vent my bitterness.

The amount I lent to It was quiet substantial and it would make your jaw drop and pronounce me stupid. My close friends have pronounced me stupid.

There would come a time in our lives that we would be asked to choose between doing the right thing and saving our asses. Last June, I chose to be honorable.

I let It have my rent money for Manila, and It and its parents assured me that the money would be returned to me in a week or two. And I waited, and waited, and waited.

It managed to pay me two-thirds of the amount it borrowed, but, it was not enough. I even asked It to just pay me in small amounts so that I would not suffer much. I couldn't ask help from my mother and my sisters because this was also my fault. I had to cut down on my spending because I had to pay the rent with my living allowance. Every week, I asked It to send me something and all I got were promises.

I was worried that I still had a P7,000 unpaid balance for my rent but I was confident that I would have a buffer because I expected to receive the same rate of my monthly allowance. I would have to be tight with my wallet but I would get by.

In the midst of the BAR examination month, I was informed that my allowance was reduced. I made computations and I realized that after I would pay the rent, I would not have enough money to go to my sister's home(my designated housing facility). I still had to pay for the freight of my things, travel expenses from Manila to Ozamiz City, and I also had to pay for my examination and living expenses.

My mental equilibrium was upset. I couldn't sleep well. I would dream about the money every time I would close my eyes, and I would suddenly jolt out of sleep with my heart beating very fast.

My classmates noticed that I was disturbed. They would catch me staring into space with my book spread before me. They also noted that I was more self-absorbed than usual. I told them my predicament and they comforted me. It is really good to have people care for you in times of great anxiety.

From that moment on, I offcially became the pet of my classmates. They paid for my jeepney fare and MRT fare, my entrance fee to Enchanted kingdom, my coffee from Seattle's Best and my meal from Jollibee.

When my benefactors were not around, I fed on small cans of corned beef, squid balls, hotdog sandwiches, biscuits and bread. They were the cheapest and decent food around.

I still received weekly promises from It, and I continued to rely on them even though deep inside I knew that It would never be able to pay me. I had to believe It because my mental health was at stake.

The BAR exams were finally over and I managed to go to my sister's home. I still suffered because I didn't have any money and just locked myself into my assigned room. I didn't go out because it would mean spending money. There was even one time that I spent thirty minutes perusing over various shampoo brands to determine what brand is the cheapest - Sunsilk. I had a very limited budget. Still, the promises kept pouring in and I began to get angry.

I realized that I have been suppressing my anger and bitterness for the sake of the BAR exams. The more promises I received, the angrier I became. I stopped asking for payment because I just got disappointed everytime I made a demand. Disappointment leads to anger, anger leads to hate, hate leads to suffering. I might have to bring out my light saber.

It has been a month since It made its last promise. i am a bit better now,but, I am still paying off the debts that I had incurred due to It's callousness.

I am really thankful to the people who were there for me. You truly are friends.