Comments on: LitWit Challenge: Win a Summer Survival Kit http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/ Personal blog of Jessica Zafra, author of The Collected Stories and the Twisted series Wed, 27 Mar 2013 15:24:52 +0000 hourly 1 https://wordpress.org/?v=5.4.15 By: jessicazafra http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85423 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 15:05:09 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85423 angus25: Aha, a masochist. You want pain, meet the deadline.

]]>
By: angus25 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85390 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 10:02:53 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85390 I am six hours late. I hope I can be indulged in my want to be oppressed

I filed my resignation with feigned nonchalance and with the thought that I would be in a better company and a better place. Baguio City nearly killed me. It felt like I was locked inside the city jail where the guards elbow each other for my lack of prison knowledge. The jeepney drivers and vendors should speak Tagalog, I used to complain. But that’s a minor thing; the major thing is that the city felt out of reach. It might have been a different country. My mother, during my visits, always remarked that I smelled of mountains. Was I visiting from Nepal?

I was doing freelance stuff so I could’ve gone away any time I wanted, with or without a resignation. Fourteen other passengers and I went to Manila at the onset of summer vacation, as if the fifteen of us were making space for the coming hundreds of tourists. We could’ve been sixteen, 14 + 2, but if people want to stay, I will leave them. I tried to be excited, but I didn’t have any idea that Manila could be as lonely as Baguio. The latter made your loneliness felt through the gloomy weather and your soggy socks, and the former for its too dense crowd and your dirty socks.

Time to work for a real company, I told myself as I attended the first day of my training. The newbies got nervous and tried to show some confidence when the trainer told us that we would need to pass a series of exams before we can officially become call center agents. That’s why for the first week of the training, we had to do some language training.

Their fake accents annoyed me, but there’s something worse: their fake accents and their cigarette-bumming. I’m not even friends with these guys but I give them cigarettes anyway just so they would stop talking and keep smoking. I would excuse myself always, and on the third day, the handsomest guy in our class approached me. He needed something. He needed help with prepositions.

So we sat together for the succeeding two days, and I never met him again. The trainer told us after The Hot Guy left that he had to work on his oral communication skills; the call simulation showed what an awful stutterer he was. Nothing was mentioned about prepositions.

We anticipated the next exam with more trepidation. U.S. locals would have casual conversations with us over the phone. Sweaty palms on our end, lists of errors on theirs. 75% of the class failed. I had the highest score, only because I used the word ‘colossal’ in one of my descriptions.

During that month-long training, I would roam around the city. I had to learn the jeepney routes if I wanted to survive with my meager salary. Cab drivers detected my lack of city knowledge. Besides, the trainer told us that the phone exam might include giving directions to our house. I couldn’t tell the examiner to drive me anywhere where there is no heavy traffic.

Whenever I got lost, everything felt bigger than it actually is. Intersections were suspicious. People were not helpful. The buildings were colossal. And yet, I was happy despite all that and the paranoia. Someone could stick an ice pick between my ribs. That was a possibility one cannot shrug off. Someone could pick me up and give me colossal crabs. Another possibility that I have proven.

Two weeks more, and another two failed. Four of us passed. We could now take calls and say the opening spiel with enthusiasm. Two weeks later, one of us resigned. I followed suit two months after. This was at the onset of a theoretical autumn. There are no beaches in sight; there’s only the heat. It’s always summer.

]]>
By: jessicazafra http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85361 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 06:15:32 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85361 theOrbiter: Your sentences are unwieldy. Pay special attention to the opening: it determines whether the readers will do you the favor of spending their time on it. They can’t be expected to read it out of the goodness of their hearts.

“Few weeks after my high school graduation, friends from high school would ask me to go out with them and go swimming or just hang out somewhere.”

Why would we continue when our eyes have glazed over from the unnecessary repetition?

Try “Some weeks after we graduated from high school, my friends would ask me to go swimming or just hang out.”

What is a “typical Chinita”? That just sounds lazy.

IN, but this is a waste of a teen Cyrano de Bergerac story.

]]>
By: jessicazafra http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85358 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 06:01:28 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85358 In reply to jksese.

jksese: Para bang nakikinig kami sa takbo ng utak mo. IN.

]]>
By: jessicazafra http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85356 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 05:58:17 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85356 In reply to lorispeaking.

lorispeaking: Thank you for the nth iteration of the dark and stormy night opening. OUT.

]]>
By: jessicazafra http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85355 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 05:57:18 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85355 In reply to lestat.

lestat: People secretly want to be oppressed.

]]>
By: cake http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85337 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 03:27:50 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85337 “Jump!”

I look down and my toes start to curl around the edge of the rock I’m standing on as if trying to hold on and say: No way. It is a long way down. I flatten myself against the cave wall. I am jolted forward in surprise as a protruding stone lodges itself on the small of my sweat-soaked back. I almost fall, if not for my life vest, one of its many strings got tangled on the stone’s edge. Even the stone’s giving me a little push. I unknot my life vest, checked that there was no damage, and resumed hesitating to jump on the precipice.

“Come on, at the count of three ha!”

I can see five neon green life vests below, not quite blending into the emerald water. My friends, all five of them, already took the plunge and they were egging me on, their cheers resonant inside the cave walls. Every summer we go out of town. This year we’re backpacking in the Northern Philippines. We were in Bolinao just yesterday. Tonight we’re heading off to Baguio. Right now, I’m standing inside a cave on Marcos Island, one of the Hundred Isles in Alaminos, Pangasinan. The cave’s main attraction is the 20 feet of free fall into the pool of water below.

Why do we always end up doing some kind of risky activity each time we go on vacation? My friends have this penchant for trying out new (and dangerous) experiences like zip lining, canyon swings, and helmet diving. For them it’s fun; for me it’s tempting fate. I usually sit out on these activities. But, when I absolutely have no choice, I dawdle when it’s my turn – like what I’m doing now. It takes loads of cheering (which sometimes leads to bullying) and reassurance that everything will be okay before I’d be convinced to get it done and over with.

I’d like to think that I was adventurous when I was younger. I used to climb mountains. I’ve rock climbed Mt. Batulao’s old trail without any rope for support when I was 18. I used to surf, too. When I get bored at home, I go up our roof and lie down on it. So, no, I don’t have acrophobia. I’m no aquaphobe either.

Everything changed when I turned twenty. I’m 26 now, by the way. Our next door neighbor’s kid died in a car accident. Shiela was her name. Her dad lost control of the car and they crashed into a concrete barrier. The roads were slippery because there was a storm that day. Her dad survived but Shiela, well, she wasn’t wearing her seatbelt. We were of the same age.

I stopped going up the roof shortly after her death. I turned down invites to climb. And, yes, I stopped surfing. Back then, I was bewildered. I didn’t know why I stopped. Sheila and I were not close but her death left a bad taste in my mouth.

Thinking about it now, I figured what she gave me was a taste of my own mortality. Before she passed away, death was just an abstraction to me – a far-off notion applicable to those who were 60 and up only. I never knew anyone close to me who died in their 20s until Shiela’s passing away. The effect was I no longer wanted to tempt fate by doing the things I used to.

“Talon na. At the count of three ha!”

I don’t know how long I have been standing on the precipice but my legs were starting to feel numb. As my friends start to count, I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and utter a silent prayer. Well, not really a prayer but more of a question: “Lord, oras ko na ba?”

I hear my friends shout. “One, two, three!”

I wanted to jump but I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.

]]>
By: theOrbiter http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85334 Wed, 27 Mar 2013 02:48:30 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85334 Few weeks after my high school graduation, friends from high school would ask me to go out with them and go swimming or just hang out somewhere. I would always say no. Always automatically, I would come up with an excuse that I was in the province or broke, and declined the invitation, trying to sound upset even if I felt otherwise. Mom would ask me why I was always turning down the invitations. For one, I think my mom was just trying to get rid of me because I was always home and ruining her afternoon TV viewing (I got a PS2 and playing Devil May Cry for hours). Second, she might be concerned that her predictions came true about me being antisocial. So one hot Saturday of April, I decided to go with my high school friends to this resort somewhere in the north. I think the name of the resort got something like splash, wave, or hidden on it. Can’t really remember anymore, it was like a decade ago.

The gang was complete. All my closest friends were there. Mark, who taught me how to shoplift in Odyssey, was the one driving the van. Josh, who pretended to be gay so that he would see boobies in the female locker room, was our navigator. Alex, who pretended to be straight so that he could see boys in briefs in the male locker room, was the one who prepared the food. And Jay, who was my best friend-slash-secret nemesis, was also with us, along with his girlfriend Sheila.

About Jay, he was my classmate since first year high school. He was also my seat mate for 4 years. His last name is De Dios, and mine is De Torres, so we were seatmates almost in all classes. Maybe the only time we were not seated together was during P.E., where we held the class on the bleachers. Jay was my best friend because we got along nicely. Our friendship was something designed by cosmic force or something. We reciprocated each other in so many ways. I was shy and he was friendly. I love to get free food, he loves to treat friends. I love to read novels and write reviews for fun, he hates to read, let alone write reviews about the book. We both liked playing Conquest in the Quantum arcade. Our favorite dish in the canteen was tocino. He would give me all the fat while I’d give him the meat part. We both liked Typing class because he had a crush on our teacher who always wears miniskirts, while I liked the class because I squeezed typing some mini poems and prose during idle time. And just like how the cosmos had designed and orchestrated, we also both liked the same girl.

Sheila was the typical chinita. She was like a petite Gwen Garci. When I first saw her waiting at the lobby entrance, I felt a different mix of nervousness and excitement. When I saw her stepped in and sat next to me in our first period class, I froze and was speechless for a few seconds. Since I was too shy and Jay was very friendly, Jay got first dibs. And two years after, they became a couple. For 4 years I was secretly praying for them to break up, but at the same time I remained a true friend to Jay.

As we reached the cottage of the resort, everyone got busy unpacking. Jay approached me and dragged me to one corner, asking me a big favor. He wanted me to help him write a love letter to Sheila for their 2nd anniversary. I thought for a moment, that must have been the lousiest idea, but Jay explained that he was trying to be romantic. The following night, as I was writing the letter, I remembered how I was so much like Brian Krakow in My So-Called Life. And just like what Brian did, I wrote the most romantic love letter I have ever written. And I meant every word.

]]>
By: lestat http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85313 Tue, 26 Mar 2013 23:24:01 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85313 I love the okrayan portion of the litwit challenges.

]]>
By: lorispeaking http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85306 Tue, 26 Mar 2013 21:39:48 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85306 Thank God it rained.

I woke up with the sound of rain and spent some time in bed just listening to it. I have been out of breath because of the heat ever since March came. Water bottle became my instant best friend. But rain, after a really hot day, has its drawbacks. It makes damp hair stick to nape like groping high school lovers in a deserted hallway.

It’s summer. I’m working. I’ve been a vampire with a soul for two years now. Since I started working four years ago, summer has been just a series of humid, sweaty days. I eventually got up. I have to go to work and I can’t be late. It’s a dead-end job, I know, but it pays well. The only consolation is that I’d get to take a leave of absence (LOA) twice a month. One is scheduled for tomorrow. The thought inspired me to go to work today.

The thing with working on a night shift is that eventually, you wouldn’t care whether you look sharp or not. You will become a Plain Jane, wash and wear girl. It least that’s what happened to me. Like now, I’m wearing my signature black blazer over a statement tee and skinny jeans. I combed my hair into place, powdered my face, and ta da! I’m ready for work!

Work is uneventful. The usual work, the usual gossip. There was never a day when me and my colleagues stop complaining about work, about how the “system” became a total crap ever since the new general manager came. We spend eight hours working like zombies running on caffeine.

I was giddy when end of day finally came. I love having my LOA days on a weekday. While everyone is at work or at school, I play. But damn, it’s summer! Happy shiny people are out and about, invading the malls. I was planning to use this day for my Me Time, just like every other LOA days I had. But well, needless to say, summer is ruining my alone time. Malls are packed with kids running around like Energizer bunnies. I hate kids. They scream and wail for no apparent reason. Selfish little bastards.

On a regular weekday, I could usually get a whole movie house all by myself. I could munch on chips as loudly as I want. But then summer came and school’s out. Cue in Alice Cooper here. Movie houses are packed though not everyone was watching the film. Some just needed a dim lit place to cuddle and spit swap while others just snooze. Have you seen God Bless America? Remember the movie house scene? I was fantasizing about it throughout the movie.

Cafes are packed with high school kids taking photos of themselves. I was planning on drinking overpriced coffee while working on my freelance assignment but I bailed. I can’t be in the background of another Instagram photo.

I passed by Book Sale. There’s nothing like the feeling of great accomplishment when you find a good book in mint condition for one-fourth of its original price. After spending a good hour scouring the bins, I found it. Sylvia Plath’s Johnny Panic and the Bible of Dreams! This is an awesome end of a disastrous day! I needed a win and I got it. Suck it, summer!

]]>
By: jksese http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85294 Tue, 26 Mar 2013 20:15:57 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85294 Biglang pinaalala sa akin ng mundo na may galit nga pala ako sa lahat ng tao.

“Summer vacation na!”, ito ang paulit-ulit na tumatakbo sa iyong isipan habang isa-isang pinapanood and mga pelikulang nasa external hard drive mo. Ang sarap. Buhay estudyante ulit kahit bente kuwatro anyos ka na at paminsan-minsa’y tumatayong “guardian” ng mga nakababatang kapatid.

Pero biglang pinaalala ng mundo na punyeta nga pala ang lahat.

“Late ako makakauwi.”, text ni nakakababatang kapatid. Sige lang. Matino naman ang kapatid mo. ‘Yun ang akala mo.

Alas onse y media. “Wait lang. Nandito pa kami”. Pauwi na siguro ‘to. Naisip mo na sige lang, maaga pa naman. Magtetext naman ulit yun pag nasa kanto na at magpapasundo. Isa’t kalahating lapitin din kasi ng manyakis ang batang ‘to e.

Alas dose y media. Walang update. Tinawagan mo, hindi sumasagot. Walang hiya, dinadapuan ka na ng antok. Pagbigyan. Party nga naman ang pinuntahan.

Ala una y media. Wala parin. Hindi din sinasagot ang telepono. Punyeta. Buhay pa ba kapatid mo? Kalma lang. Hindi naman ikaw nanay ng batang ito pero kung nandito nga lang ang nanay ninyo, malamang nagpatawag na ‘yun ng pulis, naghakot ng mga kamag-anak at kapitbahay at mag-conduct ng search party.

Alas dos y media. Di kaya na-“Taken” ng isa’t kalahti ang batang ito? Ayan. Kung anu-ano kasi pinapanood mo. Puro kahangalan tuloy naiisip mo. Hindi parin sinasagot ang punyetang telepono. Dahil sa kapraningan, nawala na ang antok at napalitan ng biglaang agos ng adrenaline. Alam mo na handa ka na makipagsuntukan sa mga tambay sa kanto.

Alas tres. Nag-text ang gaga ng “Wala pa”. Tinawagan mo. Lasing ang hangal mong kapatid at naka-tengga sa isang convenience store sa Makati kasama ang mga lasing din na mga kaklase. Magpapaumaga na lang daw sila doon dahil mga walang masakyan pauwi. Lumalaki na ang butas ng ilong mo at malapit na din maputukan ng ugat sa ulo dahil sa pag-aalala pero ang punyetang kapatid mo pa ang may ganang magalit. Kung hindi ba naman talaga isa’t kalahating hangal.
Pikon ka pero tinanong mo parin kung susunduin mo ba siya dahil kahit loko-loko ka, mabuti ka namang kapatid. Pero nagalit pa siya sa’yo.

“Bahala ka nga sa buhay mo.” Galit mong sinabi sabay bagsak ng telepono. Nanginginig na buong katawan mo dahil sa naghalong inis at kaba. Ikaw na nga nagmamagandang loob, ikaw pa ang na-punyeta.

Makalipas ang isang oras, tumawag ang hangal na kapatid. “Sorry, hindi ko alam sinasabi ko kanina. Okay na ako. Galit ka ba?”

“Bahala ka nga diyan.” ‘Yun na lang ang nasabi mo kahit na gusto mong magmura ng magmura at makipagsuntukan sa unang makakasalubong mo.

“Okay ka na ba? Hindi ako makakampante kung ‘di ka pa okay”, sagot niya. Kung ‘di ba naman talaga ungas ang kapatid mo e no?

“Ako dapat nagtatanong nyan sa’yo.” Pilit mong kinakalma ang sarili mo.

“Okay na ako. Sorry…” Sagot ng kapatid mong biglang natauhan sa sariling kahangalan.

Madami pa siyang sinasabi pero binanatan mo na lang ng “K. Fine. Good night” at biglang binabaan. Pinatay mo na din ang telepono mo.

Badtrip. Simulang simula ng bakasyon e kamangmangan agad ang bumulatlat sa iyo. Kaya uminom ka na lang ng dalawang tableta ng Xanor at inintay na kalmahin ka nito hanggang sa tuluyang makatulog at pansamantalang makalimutan ang kahangalan ng sangkatauhan.

Kinabukasan, nakauwi naman ng buo ang kapatid mo. Gusto pa sana makipagbati sa iyo pero sinaksakan mo na lang ng earphones ang tainga mo at binasa ulit ang “Catcher in the Rye” kasi wala ka ng mabasang ibang libro.

]]>
By: Momelia http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/2013/03/27/litwit-challenge-win-a-summer-survival-kit/comment-page-1/#comment-85289 Tue, 26 Mar 2013 19:56:05 +0000 http://www.jessicarulestheuniverse.com/?p=23107#comment-85289 Madame, pag ni-edit ko ba yung entry ko eh (lalo na yung etchuserang first line) eh may chance ba siya na ma-shoot sa top ten semi finalists? Haha, naaliw kasi ako sa it was a dark and stormy night keme na intro eh. Heto na yung edited. No need to post if back stage pa rin talaga ung story, hehe.

At hanggang ngayon eh bet na bet kong i-add yung “It was a dark and stormy morning, I think.” sa last paragraph, pero baka lalong ma-backstage eh, haha!

=======================================================

What to Expect on Your First Cigarette

I just got home from UST with a pocketful of class cards. Damning class cards, it should be mentioned, and it was these that gave the afternoon it’s thoroughly unforgettable quality. I already knew that I failed one major subject seven hours ago, but I still can’t tell her. With my circumstances back then, I was early in getting back. It was two pm, she was in our room upstairs, in her house clothes, busy, as always, ironing the clothes this time. There was a mountain of unfinished business in this green hamper by her feet. And there’s this small pile of neatly folded shirts on top of the TV to her right. There’s a stand fan a few feet away. And there was me, by the door. I was this sorry mess in a shirt and a pair of jeans. Yes, that was me. You can tell by my not getting in the same room as her, until she looked up and smiled at me.

“Ano na balita, anak?”

It was the year 2000, and I was this promising BS Math student a year shy from graduating. I will be my mother’s first graduate, by the way, and the pressure’s all mine. The honor and the bragging rights? Those were all mine too, provided I graduate on time. Which I will not. Which I had to tell her. Which I can’t. Which is why I wasn’t getting in the same room as her, but I had to since she started to notice.

I walked a few steps into our room, and then I stayed where I was.

There were two of us in the room, and aside from that stand fan’s efforts, the silence in there was largely uninterrupted. I can’t do it. I mean, how do you say “Ma, I will not be graduating next year” to the one person who has been spending most of her life, as a mother, doing 12 hour work shifts just so her three kids can get a college education? How do you deliver the news to a mother who risked life and limb just so her kids can get a diploma? And were talking about a real diploma, the kind that she didn’t have to fake just to get a job. How do you tell your hopeful mother that you fucked up big time? And that you will be spending another tiring year in college?

In retrospect, I really had no idea what “tiring” really meant until I was this utterly disappointed single mother who had no choice but to work her aging body some more.

So how do I break it to her? Gently, so at least I leave her with her pride? Try and spare her feelings if the feelings have to die?

Somehow, I gathered the guts with which to deliver my terrible news. It was, easily, the hardest thing I had to do in my life.

“Ma, pasado naman halos lahat. Pero may binagsak akong isang minor na subject, tsaka isang major. Di offered yung major ngayong summer. Kailangan ko siyang kunin ulit next year. Di ako makakagraduate next year. The year after pa.”

She stooped her head down, her short hair covering her face, as she paid more attention to that white polo shirt she was ironing. This goes on for a few minutes to a year. You cannot imagine a well-ironed shirt anywhere than what she was not finishing at that time. And then, amidst the racket of that rickety stand fan, I began to hear her muffled sobbing. I had no idea, until then, how something so controlled can be so devastating, so heartbreaking. But she pursued her duty to keep our clothes neatly pressed, and I remember how her shoulders started to shake, again, with that terrible control. I was already crying at that point. And I cried harder as I noticed how her tears were staining that white polo.

She’s not the mother that encouraged her words with her emotions. So I walked out of that room because I know I will crumble some more in her unspoken disappointment.

I had the very first cigarette of my life later that evening. I got dizzy, and it gave me a zit in the morning.

]]>