STORIES, STORIES

IN SEARCH OF THE ARC by Kathryn Narciso She takes a long, deep drag off her cigarette, stares a hole through me, and blows tendrils of cloud into the air between us. What is he? she interrupts my pitch. It’s like telling the story of Jesus in two sentences, and just as I have crucified him all over again, the blood red-lipped evangelist goes back to the major character’s obsession. She blows a split second smoke in my face again. He is…   She exhales another.  I watch it curl up in the air and disappear into everywhere. He is a carpenter? Except he’s not. If I were really telling the story of Jesus, I would have not seen her eyes narrowed at the unsure tone of my voice. You didn’t watch it. But I did, I approached her cautiously. I just can’t remember. Perhaps teased by her own sneaking suspicion, she smiles at me. No, you didn’t watch it. I really did. Let me tell you another story. FIRST ACT Against her genius, ready to prey on any si...

"So what is it that you do all day?" I've been asked since I moved into my own place. Me, who thrives in the midst of crowds that know only to adore me, so suddenly solitary. It frustrates me how everyone is frustrated that I chose to do this and then whine about it. YOU GUYS. I JUST LIKE COMPLAINING. Seriously, it's a thing. There are support groups for extreme complaining as a sport. The novelty of living by yourself is not only fantastic, it's something that, once you get past the I'm-so-cold-and-lonely-hold-me part, you will want for the rest of your life. It's when you live alone that the age-old saying "YOLO, motherfuckers" comes to life with new, very relevant meaning. So what do I do? I do errands. Errands and chores are the most unfortunate by-product of modern life. I'm unemployed, but I'm constantly working. Laundry, frantic floor scrubbing, cleaning, doing the dishes, organizing and re-organizing, getting called ...

Makati is THE Jeddawi spot for real. Srsly, look at this place. It's not the real Manila, let's be honest here. I've met the real one before, it's not as affluent, not as pretty, not as pedestrian-friendly, not as easy to talk to, THE PEOPLE NOT AS MOTHERFRAKKIN HOT. I've been here 2 weeks, somewhat adjusted, somewhat still living out of my suitcases. The Real World (which is really any place outside of Jeddah) is twisting my arm into culture shock. Here: SHOPPING Things here are about 10% to 40% cheaper than Jeddah. I still haven't gotten out of the habit of converting everything into riyals. I'm annoyed that so many of the brands I buy aren't available here, but the trade-off is that so many of the brands I want ARE HERE. Don't get me started on books. I will need a second job to support my book shopping because THEY ARE ALL JUST LYING AROUND NAKED WAITING FOR ME TO THROW MONEY AT THEM. Whores. CONVERSAZIONE The city streets are mea...

Holy shit, you guys, I did it! I'm no longer reporting live from Jeddah, motherfuckers. I've been here 10 days and I'm in love. It's that lovey-dovey stage at the start of a relationship, when the city and I are just getting to know each other, finding cute quirks about each other, being polite, laughing at all of each other's jokes, and buying each other nice, thoughtful gifts. Things will surely change, but let's live one day at a time to avoid madness. Hello, good-looking. Of course the first few weeks will be all about me comparing Manila to Jeddah, and busting my preconceived notions about living in the big bad city (of Makati, for now). So here are a few of them. Segregation! I'm causing it! I've lived in the Philippines before, so there are some  things that are not new to me. This segregation is, though! I've taken the train a couple times now, and they have started implementing Females Only sections. Ivy tells me it's because...