Madonna, Buffy, sea serpents, and suicidal underwear.

Two odd dreams from last weekend.

Dream #1

Madonna was riding a serpent-like sea monster following Buffy Summers who kidnapped Madonna’s son. Buffy turned around to show a blonde sea siren who suddenly attacked the sea monster.

Dream #2

Former co-worker Popin invited me to drink some cocktails she made on the pretext that she was studying to be a bartender. One of the better drinks included omelette as an ingredient. The drink was not called an “omelette”; it had an omelette. All the drinks were good, though.

It turned out to be a reality TV show where people are supposed to get drunk, do ridiculous drunken antics, and pass out in front of the camera. Two of the invited girlfriends started pole dancing in the bar. No, I didn’t get drunk enough to do anything stupid.

But this was not a dream:

I was getting the dried laundry from the clothes line when one of my briefs slipped from my hand and fell on the cement stub outside the balcony of the laundry area. I tried to fish it out, but I caused it to fall further down, on the outcropping roof placed outside the units at the building’s ground floor.

Bern and I had to take the step ladder (which normally functions as a book shelf) to fetch it. It was one of my newer underwear, bought just the week before, so I was pretty keen on getting it back. Good thing this happened at the back of the building, away from where most of the tenants pass on their way out.

We used to have suicidal plants and cooking pots. Now, even our underwear are jumping off our building.

Notes from a really long weekend: Saturday at The Collective Art Fair.

It was a Friday night when we screened at Cinema is Incomplete, not Saturday.

PG4M at The CollectiveI could now remove setting up a booth in a fair from my bucket list.

There was a slight mix-up when we signed up for tables at The Collective Art Fair: I told Philip Paraan of Kanto I will be reserving table booths for Sine Bahaghari, 2 tarot readers and for my friend Mich, whom Philip also knew. Philip was able to do that but thought I will be relaying the news to Mich, while I thought Philip will be contacting Mich himself. Of course, with both of us busy with a million things leading to the fair, neither of us were able to tell Mich that she will have a table at the fair. And that’s how Sine Bahaghari ended up with two tables.

So sorry, Mich.

I don’t know how it happened that we were not able to sell any Sine Bahaghari merchandise, though. I guess the fact that none of the Sine Bahaghari organizers had any real experience running a business has something to do with it.

Early in the morning, I also realized I will not be able to do any tarot readings for anyone so I left the tarot reading booth to my friends so I could only focus on my other booth and the film screenings. I ended up forgetting lunch, losing my temper, hardly paying any attention to an even more tired Bern, and heading straight home as soon as we’ve settled all the dues for the booths and tables.

It was a crazy, tiring day; and that is coming from someone who has had his share of crazy, tiring days.

But yes, The Collective Art Fair was fun, too, the way fairs are always fun. I finally got to meet in person a long-time online friend (hello, Gabs). I got to hear Gerry’s royal penis joke. The most fun I had was when I introduced Sigrid Bernardo to my boyfriend, Bern, and my ex-boyfriend, Carlo, with the three of them facing each other.

Ay!” Sigrid exclaimed and mentioned it was one of those awkward “it’s complicated” moments. Except that, as far as complicated moments for me go, it wasn’t that much, yet. I was really enjoying myself at that point.

It would have been more fun though if I had money to actually buy something, but that should be something I ought to remember for next time.

Everybody’s having their weird dreams lately.

The other day, I woke up and saw a rather long SMS from Alejandro:

Had a really weird dream. In it, my father was Severus Snape, my mother was Miriam Defensor-Santiago, my nanny was Mae West, and we had Jeeves the Butler as our… well… butler. You can just imagine the conversation. Oh plus throw in a couple of huge iguanas for pets. One scarlet, the other black and white. Weird. I should really stop watching youtube before bedtime.

I replied that with a family like that, their dinner conversations should be really lively. Alejandro answered that with how the real-life conversations of his family is like, he’s not really inclined to pump up the weirdness factor.

Senator Miriam Defensor Santiago

Speaking of weird, Bern also sent this SMS just as I was about to sleep that morning:

From Mhai: Bernbern, bahay ka na? Help. Na-lock ako sa loob ng bahay. Hehe. Nakalimutan ko kasi yung susi ko tapos pinabaklas ko kina kuya yung knob. Nung clinose ko na door, lock na ko sa loob. Di ko makalabas.

Bern, are you home? Help. I got locked in the house. Hehe. I forgot my keys so I had the door busted open by the maintenance guys. When I closed the door, I was locked inside. I can’t get out.

I went down to Mhai’s apartment to see how she was. It turned out that while the maintenance guy removed the knob, he did not remove the bolt for the door’s lock. When the door closed, the bolt got stuck and I had to pull it out of its slot so that the door could open.

Mhai was already rattled and close to panicking because she was alone in the apartment. After we got the door opened, I asked her why she didn’t call us instead of having the door forcibly opened; after all, she gave us a spare key. But she’d rather have the doorknob taken out than bother us, even as I tried to explain that Bern and I agreeing to keep a spare key also meant that she could definitely bother us if she needed it.

That same morning, I also left my wallet in the office. I found out about it just when I arrived at our building and had to call Leo to go down and pay for my cab. It seemed like a small wave of craziness had spread around many people that day.

‘Nono’ on March 3 at Fully Booked High Street.

This looks like a very interesting film. And I’m a sucker for works that feature precocious kids.

Nono movie poster

IFC and Fully Booked present

NONO
a film by MILO TOLENTINO

on March 3, 2012
(Saturday – 3pm and 6pm screenings)
at U-View Fully Booked (High Street, The Fort)

Ticket is at Php150.00

Toto, a very outspoken, highly opinionated eight-year-old born with a cleft lip and an open palate, sets off to join his school’s Creative Declamation Competition – a contest of narrative drama and eloquence set on the very high-profiled Philippines’ National Language Week celebration. Speech impediment or not, Toto, armed with iron-clad determination and a desire to be treated like everyone else – no more, no less, takes on the challenge with the help of his lovelorn mother Glenda, an emotional bully [Badong] and a stray, deaf boy [Ogoy] from his neighborhood.

Damn damn damn. It looks like I will ask Bern to delay our beach outing again.

Shooting the messenger.

A few minutes ago, I got a call from the building maintenance asking if the request I made for repairs in our unit was completed yesterday. I told them, they weren’t. The man said some of the maintenance people kept knocking at our unit but we weren’t replying. I asked him what time it was and he told me it was during the afternoon.

“We’re already asleep by then,” I told him. The man repeated that they went back several times, as if it was our fault for not being awake to let them in so they could complete the repairs.

shower valve

The handle of our shower’s valve is busted. I still don’t know how that happened, but bathing using a pail and dipper isn’t that easy if one has a rather long mane to wash every day. The apartment also needed to have a couple of exposed electric sockets replaced and have the unused hole for an airconditioner covered. I went to the apartment’s office the other day to request for repairs and they were scheduled to be done yesterday, before 10 in the morning.

By 9:30, we called the building maintenance if the plumber and electrician were on their way. The guy who answered said he didn’t know but promised he’d ask the office. By 10:30, we called again; the new guy who answered also didn’t know if there were repairmen coming and gave the impression that they are not made aware of repair orders for individual units.

Given the way things work in this building, I am not surprised. But that did not make me any less annoyed for delaying my sleep, waiting for nothing. By noon, I decided to join Bern and grab some sleep for work later.

Kuya,” I told the maintenance person, “we work at night. During the afternoons, we’re asleep. Do you expect us to stay awake all day, waiting? What’s the point of having the repairs scheduled when they won’t be following the scheduled time anyway.”

The man asked me if it’s alright to have the repairmen over today. I told him, I’ll be awake until noon and could wait for them until noon.

“Only until noon?” the man asked, still unable to wrap around his brain the idea that some people work at night and sleep during the afternoon.

No. Don’t bother,” I snapped. “Tell the office I’ll go there tomorrow and have the repairs rescheduled.”

It’s a good thing Bern has not yet arrived or there would be two of us fuming and probably giving a considerable piece of our minds to the unfortunate maintenance person who would call our unit.

A few minutes after I got the call, the carpenter who will cover the aircon hole arrived to take measurements of the area he should cover. Well. At least it seems we could have that done today.