Amazing, there are crosswalks on Lacson Street. How is it that self never saw them before? It took the kind proprietor of Burloloy, a jewelry store on Mayfair (She went there to shop for Christmas presents and other fabulous indulgences. Cousin Mae introduced her to the designer, Richard, in March), to point them out.
Self was complaining that every time she crosses Lacson Street, she feels as if she is taking her life in her hands. She’s been wanting to go to Burloloy since she first arrived, she told him, but she just never managed the energy to walk to Mayfair. Richard took her to the sidewalk and pointed. There, before self’s disbelieving eyes, was a crosswalk. Wide as all get-out.
Bacolod fries her brains! Disorders her thinking! Makes her crave masahe every day!
Today self had a one-hour Swedish massage in Bacolod Spa (Only 250 pesos: about $6!).
She got rice cakes and turon from the Bacolod Organic Market.
She bought the Negros Daily Bulletin (Front Page Headline: DRIVE VS ILLEGAL ACTS DOES NOT EXEMPT COPS!) and the Visayan Daily Star.
She finished the Valerie Trueblood story, which she will use to end this post.
And she found out that burloloy = the Tagalog word butingting.
Anyhoo, self bought this fabulous burloloy for 280 pesos (about $7). Isn’t it bee-yoo-ti-ful, dear blog readers? Goes so well with her neon pink blouse!
You know, it just feels so right to be buying things like this in Bacolod, when ordinarily the words “bling” + “self” simply do not go together! Especially back home in good ol’ Redwood City! Where the most significant outings of self’s day are to the library or to Redwood Nursery! Lately, the biggest thing on self’s social calendar is a movie at the local Century 20!
The other thing self noticed about herself when she is in Bacolod is that she likes to use her brightest, reddest lip gloss, almost every day. Sure, Bacolod is a grungy provincial town, not particularly beautiful. But self feels vibrant when she is there.
Anyhoo, self promised to end with a quote from the Valerie Trueblood story, “Suitors,” and she shall. MAJOR SPOILER ALERT!
What were those big white flowers in the next field? Where? There, in the grass. He threw back his head and laughed.
The laugh, Lali had said, is an attribute of the man, and if you delight in it, go forward.
“Flowers! Those are calves.” He was still laughing, bent over with it. “Herefords. That’s their white faces.” The calves were lying down, hidden in the thick grass.
“I’m a vegetarian,” Meg said.
He remembered she had mentioned that. He had a good recall, it turned out, for everything she had said at that first meeting. He was ready to change many things, though the difficulty would be in changing himself. Never mind that, she said.
The next story in the collection is called “Choice in Dreams” and begins:
Molly was hoping to have a dream in which she didn’t disgrace herself, in which she got to be an innocent tourist.
Ooooh, it slays her. It simply slays her.