on surfing & sleeping

Since moving into my studio two and a half weeks ago, I have been on the Internet way less. Yes, I’ve lost my free wi-fi streak. A few years ago, when I was living abroad, I was lucky to get a free wireless hookup to the Internet courtesy of my neighbors. When I moved back home, I got the same deal—thanks to our generous next-door neighbors. Early this year, they even got two networks going so that I had a choice of which one to connect to. It was 24/7 Internet—ahhh, bliss. I was hoping I would have the same setup here, but it looks like the day has come for me to cough up dough to surf and upload and download and tweet and blog from home. It’s just wrong.

Anyway, that too long lead-in explains why this blog has not been updated more frequently. There’s a connection at the office, of course, but I haven’t had a chance to take a long enough break from work to sit and blog freely. So here I am on a Monday evening (it’s a holiday today), blogging offline. Tragic, right? But you gotta do what you gotta do.

Internet connection is just one item in a list of things I’m doing without. I don’t have a water heater either. I found out it’s quite costly (between Php6,000 to Php8,000, even higher for more “powerful” models) and I was just shelling out way too much for the initial move-in so I decided to put it on the list of things to follow. (So far, the water temperature has been pleasantly cool. No freezing and shivering—yet.) I also don’t have maid service anymore, which means I now go to a laundry shop once a week to drop off my clothes and towels, and I have one night of at-home handwashing on weekends for my delicates. I also don’t get to yell for my brother to come into my room and hang out with me or give me a hug. (So I just make sure he visits me at least once a week, even if I have to use lending him my car as bait.)

Otherwise, I give myself a B+. It’s been less than three weeks, but I think the adjustment is going well. Last week, in the middle of my second week, I started sleeping deeply again, the way I used to in my old bed. It started when I put my small white IKEA lamp up on the bed frame. (Look, it’s etched with a sweet cherry blossoms print!) I bought it for my work desk, but since I haven’t found a desk yet, it’s on night-lamp duty for now. I’ve been turning it on come bedtime. And since then, I’ve been back to my be-one-with-the-bed, surrounded-by-five-pillows, love-to-sleep-in-in-the-morning brand of slumber. Good night!

chillin’

Look what arrived today!

I think I may really be slightly (or not so slightly) color blind. I swear it looked like a white refrigerator when I first spotted it on display at S&R. But when the delivery guys took it out of the box this afternoon, it appeared to have a light gray shade. Whether white or gray, I decided not to sweat it (read: chill!)—especially on the heels of the lock-installation disaster (more on that in a later post). I like it and I am looking forward to entrusting it with ice cream, jam, fruits, milk, cereal, all the yummy stuff.

cool

Days before turning 35, I purchase my first refrigerator. It’s six cubic feet (whatever that means) and 24 inches wide. I got only a teeny tiny discount, but it doesn’t really matter—when I saw it this afternoon, I knew it was mine. It’s nothing fancy. Just a simple white refrigerator with the basic features—freezer box, chiller drawer, egg slots—and that’s precisely why I like it. So it’s going to be delivered on November 9, a few days after I turn 35. If all goes according to plan (and when has it ever not, harhar), I will have the locks installed by this weekend to welcome the white ref home, safely, on Monday.

Of course there so many other things on my mind on this birthday week, but for this entry, it’s all about the ref.

floored

First, I was going to move into this unit.

Now, I am going to move into this one instead. 

How did that happen? A couple of hours after I paid the reservation fee for unit 510, the salesperson called to tell me that they could not rent it to me anymore because apparently, someone else had already reserved it. Say what?! I couldn’t believe my ears. It was love at first sight for 510 and me, and I couldn’t believe our happy ending was being taken away so swiftly. Since I had already paid, I asked the salesperson to try and talk to the other tenant to give way. An hour later, she still hadn’t called back and I had an awful feeling. When we finally spoke, she said the entire fifth floor was going to be taken by one group. Of course I have no idea if she was telling the truth, I can only hope, but it didn’t change the fact that I’d been kicked out even before I moved in. 

Now, a plot twist: They offered me unit 310—same exact floor plan, same exact size, only two floors down. So I had a new decision to make. I know both units are the same, but still, I couldn’t let go of that instant and joyful fondness I felt for 510. That’s what gave me the confidence to go for it and rent and move out and live on my own in Manila and buy furniture. I took the weekend to think about it, and I was so afraid I would end up not moving out. If I didn’t feel that strong pull towards 310, didn’t it mean that we were not meant for each other? Crazy, I know.

The renter’s groove I had been feeling suddenly fizzled. I didn’t know what to do next. Was losing 510 a sign to stay put for now? Or was getting 310 a lesson in going with the flow? 

Then somewhere during that weekend—between talking to Bean and hearing mass and watching Modern Family and sleeping and being amazed by the postures at the Philippine Yoga Asana Championships and going bed-hunting with K—I remembered a phrase I used when I told S about finding this place. I said I was “taking the plunge.” Renting 310 would be taking the plunge too. So last Monday, I went back, handed over the exact same check for the reservation fee, and told them I would take 310. 

Let’s see what happens next.

dear studio,

I woke up this morning thinking about you. It seems I think about you most of the time now. In the two-hour yoga class last Thursday night, I found myself picturing you filled with the large, must-have pieces—bed, work desk, dresser, full-length mirror—and how best to arrange them. And as I drifted off to sleep that night, I thought about little things I’d like to bring in, like the askew “B” IKEA bookends Mr. and Mrs. C brought back as pasalubong from their honeymoon and my “10 Poems” series and the delightful floral tray M gave me last Christmas. 

Looks like I won’t be able to get the you I originally wanted (unit 510; more on that letdown in another post), but I’m hoping the you I get will still be a home for all these things, all these thoughts, and me.

Love, B.