Thirteen

Last night I saw Todd Solondz's Palindromes. Aviva is 13 years old and knows what she wants. She wants a baby. She meets Judah, the son of family friends, and after some awkward thrusting in his bedroom, gets pregnant. What follows is a strange, sad and sometimes satirical coming-of-age story that pits pro-life and pro-choice, and destiny and free will. Solondz, whose last movie was the Belle-and-Sebastian-soundtracked Storytelling, uses different actors for Aviva's role, perhaps to help the audience along in relating to the character.

Thirteen is a sort of magical age. It's right smack in the middle of the formative years. I've always been disturbed by the thought that kids today at that age have already seen so much. Where was I at thirteen? In school, where the foremost thing on my mind was getting through Physics. Maybe I cut class once in a while or lied to get an overnight permit to watch a concert or had a beer. But it never occurred to me to hitchike and get it on with a trucker (Palindromes) or slash my wrists so badly that I have to wear a ton of bangles to hide the scars (Thirteen). I was blessed with a relatively carefree childhood but I admire people who have that particular strength that comes with having difficult experiences early in life. I just wish that kids wouldn't grow up so fast.

Now you're all gone got your make-up on and you're not coming back... - Anthem for a Seventeen Year Old Girl, Broken Social Scene

There are a thousand elephants in my head scrambling to get out. Through my ears.

A thousand things

Memorial Day Week-end was fun and activity- and travel-filled. We left characteristically late on Saturday for a picnic at Bear Mountain. Spent the day skewering various pieces of meat and vegetables and slow-roasting these atop "disposable" grills. After an overextended lunch, we finally headed to the lake to go boating. Afterwards, we decided to go hiking. Of course, I had on my dispensable Tommy maryjanes that, for some unexplainable reason, I always wear on hiking trips even if they're the most impractical shoes to wear on one. They're loose and slippery and are more apt for a leisurely afternoon stroll than for a vertical quest for the perfect view. No one told us there was actually a lookout point where cars could stop and unhaggard passengers could gracefully disembark and have their photographs taken.

I got to Ocean City, New Jersey at 3:30 am on Sunday (with a different group of people) after a brash display by our driver, who decided to wake us passengers up by pretending to have missed an exit, doubling back to take said exit and then deciding not to take it after all. Think go-carts and those crazy sharp turns, but with a minivan. Activities on the boardwalk include nearly running over an old guy (twice), see also nearly crashing into a store. Before heading home, we went to Atlantic City and I bet $1 on a Wheel of Fortune game and won $12.75! Awesome.
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I can't believe Freedom Bar is gone. Freedom Bar was this tiny little place in Quezon City where then unknown bands played. I remember it was where amp (my college org) held its annual parties and it was called "amplitude", which we thought was very smart. I remember one party that my friend Ruby hosted and she had on this colorful, ethereal-looking dress and her co-host Serge had on a shirt with a lightning bolt on it. I remember sneaking in to see my favorite bands play when I was supposed to be outside manning the ticket booth, which was really just a table with an official-looking steel box on it. I remember calling my dad from a phonebooth downstairs (This was back in 1999 or so; I didn't have a cellphone) reassuring him that I had already packed for a trip to the US the next day when I was actually planning to just wake up extra early to pack. Just then Echo and Jazz walked by and asked if I wanted to go eat balut, but I couldn't because I had to go back upstairs to count tickets. I have a lot of good memories of that place.
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I went to see my friend's new baby this past week-end. She is tiny and light and all of six pounds. She was just 3 days old but she opened her eyes and cried for milk and has a head full of hair. My friend said giving birth was extremely painful and she screamed out for an epidural early on. And to think she wasn't even in labor for too long. Whew.
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On Saturday, my co-worker's dad died. One life ends and one begins.
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I just spent an hour on the phone with two of my high school friends. We all live in different states and we meet about once a year to catch up and gossip and do whatever people who've known each other a really long time do. This year I wasn't sure about going, but on an impulse, I've once again bought a plane ticket. I don't know why, but all I started out to do was ask about the fare. The thing is, my travel agent has this unassuming way about her. She's scored me cheap tickets to the Philippines before, and I feel like I owe it to her, so I always end up just buying the damn ticket, even if I wasn't 100% going to in the first place. Damn.
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I've been sick all week-end. I called in sick from my other job Sunday and laid down on the couch with a massive headache until I realized I didn't have any food in the house. I walked the half block to the deli and found out the whole street was closed for a street fair. I walked around in massive sunglasses and house shorts and ended up at the crepe stall. Mmmm, bananas and nutella and a sprinkling of sugar. Spent the rest of the day listening to the Napoleon Dynamite commentary track.
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Sometimes I can be really mean. It's all a joke to me, but sometimes I wonder if my boyfriend doesn't secretly get hurt by my sarcastic comments. His friends say he's lucky because I put up with him and his strange ideas, but really, I think he puts up with me, too.