It's back to reality again for me, following a strangely pleasant surfing weekend in La Union. Being on the beach always has the effect of resetting my often over-active brain, and arriving back in Manila, the sluggishness characteristic of the first day of the week was all the more heightened by the sound of the waves still crashing in my head.

So lethargic was I this morning that I was not able to wake up for a trip that I was supposed to take to Pampanga with Ray and Yoya Guinoo, to visit her parents in Magalang. It was the feast of Our Lady of Guadalupe, and the couple asked me whether I would like to tag along for the celebration. Unfortunately (and for the fourth time, I think), I had to call-in for a raincheck.

It was a good thing, then, that my mom had reminded me that my contact lenses were finally available from our optometrist. I went there at about lunch time, and I was immediately taught how to put them on. I found that it wasn't such an easy task— the eye-reflex was just too persistent that contact lenses were still considered foreign objects, and finally having put one on (after much effort and frustration), I had the compulsion of rubbing it off. Resisting a reflex, I found, can take some effort. Finally, after around thirty minutes of struggle, my eyes red and stinging, I was finally able to put both lenses on.

It was a strange sensation, seeing clearly without glasses, so that looking at myself in the mirror for the first time, I felt strangely alien to myself: I could see myself unfuzzy, but something appeared to be missing! Indeed, the novelty of the moment was not lost to me, having worn glasses for most of my life.

But the cleaning liquid still stung, and my eyes were, by then, very itchy. Seeing clearly isn't such a simple thing, I thought. And I had to worry about having to take the lenses off again. That turned out to be a bigger struggle.

* * *

I got my camera the day after my lolo passed away. My uncle had cut his trip short from Hong Kong after learning of the sad news, and as I consequence, I got my camera a whole week earlier. Not wanting my first pictures to be about death, I found myself taking snaps of my youngest cousin, Jumbo.

Of course, he's not called Jumbo anymore— it was a name which one of my uncles gave him because he was a huge baby when he was born— but J.B. He is now the party favorite, and I bet, come Christmas, he will have more new fans. My only regret is that he will not grow up knowing our lolo.

* * *

Maybe it's because I've been engaging in totally un-Christmassy activities like going to Boracay, and attempting to surf, but I really don't feel like Christmas is just twelve days away. I would remember when I was in law school (or even in college), the beginning of December would always find me giddy in anticipation for my favorite time of the year. Perhaps it was because, while in school, it was the only thing I would look forward to, having too few things to keep me occupied.

Hopefully, when I go Christmas shopping tomorrow, some of that Christmas feeling will finally descend upon me. I desperately want to feel that Christmas fuzziness. Or maybe I'm just too old for it. *Sigh*

* * *

Abangan: Waves and Washouts