“Saying goodbye is never an easy thing…”
Ah, Miss Dayne. I must agree with you. I can’t help but feel the words as I belt them out at videoke—I hate, hate, hate goodbyes! Whether it’s to people or places or old stuffed toys with sentimental value, the idea that something is ending, the finality of it, just tears me up.
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It was Christmas Eve and my family had just come from mass. As our car pulled up to the garage, I was extremely giddy—I was certain that Santa had dropped by while we were out. It was, after all, the best time for him to swing by without being seen.
The anticipation had been building on the days leading up to this night, the night when no five-year-old could even think about sleeping. It was way past my bedtime, but I was wide awake, excitement coursing through my veins. I jumped out of the car and rushed into the house—only to find a Christmas tree, ablaze with lights…but with absolutely nothing underneath.
To a kindergarten-age kid, this was heartbreak. Was I to agonize until the next morning? Did Santa happen to forget about me? Had I not been nice enough that year?
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It’d be awesome if I could give everyone in the world…
…a stuff-yourself-silly noche buena, because good food puts people in a great mood, and would thus make the world a better place.
This season’s key question is the greatest gift you can offer. I would give humanity post-it-stickers as a reminder to everyone that our greatest gift is having the freedom to choose and acting on it. It is the liberty of claiming what you can be and making the most of it for a balanced well being.
With a post-it-sticker, you can write and claim anything that ignites your passion, tickles your funny bone and completes you without judgment and explanation.
And from my last party I have attended at warehouse 135, it was a parade of character fully expressed as they celebrate this season of giving.
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Okay, so I’ve opted for the Miss Universe answer. But, let me tell you that I also thought about giving humanity 30-minute orgasms. Then I remembered that orgasms would not make everyone happy. Little kids, I imagine, would much rather have toys or candies than 30-minute climaxes. (At least, that’s what I think.)
Why world peace? Well, because, as the recent Manila Peninsula snafu has proved to us, violence (in the form of a badly planned coup d’etat or what-not) cramps everyone’s style. I mean, just because everyone’s really concerned about who gets to be president, suddenly there was a blasted curfew.
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Without a doubt, this holiday there will be a lot of naughtiness in the air and I am not spared from this. The dizziness of December makes me volatile since there are lots of deadlines to be met before the 15th, dinners from so many corporate Christmas parties, and not to mention the perks of receiving gifts at the end of the event.
And perks are admittedly the core of all my naughtiness, because these gift-perks make me lazy to do my Christmas shopping—so I end up recycling them. This practically kills the romance of the gift-buying spree of the season. To most of us, the process of personally picking gifts and wrapping them makes this season so special to us. And this season I will beg for your pardon if you get recycled gifts. However, it’s the thought that counts, right?
For the Christmas program at nursery school, I was cast as “mommy” in our production of “I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus.” It was a pretty meaty role, and I remember wearing a little floral duster as I rendezvoused with jolly ol’ St. Nick by the Christmas tree.
Two things about this incident stand out in my memory. The first was that Santa, played by a classmate whom we shall call Georgy Porgy, was supposed to give me a peck on the cheek. But he ended up kissing me on the lips! I really don’t know if I’m making this up, but I distinctly remember vigorously wiping my lips with the back of my hand right after he committed the crime of stealing my first kiss. (Years later, another classmate told me, “Ah si Georgy? Naghuhubad ‘yun tuwing absent ka eh!” I filed that revelation under “too much information.”)
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