Hubby Be Mine

To understand, one usually would have to experience. At the moment, I could understand completely how one of my friends feels when he told me that his computer is his wife. Upon the reception of my new laptop (which I share with the eldest of my two brothers), it seems that I cannot separate myself from it. Everyday it would be the first and last thing in my mind; I worry how I would be if it had not came into my life (I had experienced months of going to internet cafes and computer laboratories in school just to type assignments and it was a drag, not only was it such a pain in the neck, it was just as difficult on my wallet). I am currently involved – I am, I guess, married to my computer. It is my husband, and as of now I cannot steer myself away from it. I run towards the said technology as fast as I could when I get home, and patiently it seems to have waited for me all day to come home to it, like an obedient dog waiting for its master.

I wonder though when I would be bored with it. In one of our philosophy classes our professor mentioned how men are similar to computers – once you decided to commit to one, a better model would always come along. The same would have to go for cellphones! Anyway, the model of my laptop is not of top quality therefore there won’t be a lot of expectations for it to meet; as long as it would just serve its purpose perhaps that would be sufficient to yield my content.

I have just transferred most of my files into it, which I guess could be the equivalent of my memories. In addition, due to the long absence of a personal computer, I am now reminded of the games which I used to play during earlier times. Among these games are Quest for Glory adventures, Where in *Time (the World, Word, Math, etc) is Carmen Sandiego, Living Books (I just read Dr. Seuss’ Green Eggs and Ham in this medium, I can’t help but feel entertained – I love Living Books!), Sims (Just the basic version for now) and many other neglected games which have accumulated neglect over the passage of time.

Although I may not be updated with the current games, I am content with the current games in my computer. I am, though, nagging my friend to install Vampire Masquerade into my laptop since I have been interested in playing the said game since he introduced it to me earlier this year. Another game which I am begging him to lend me is The Seven Capital Sins game which caught my interest since he explained the whole concept of the game to me on the phone. A game which I am also interested although don’t have the guts to actually install in my computer is the pc version of KamaSutris- a Tetris game where the player would have to pair a male and a female together to dissolve them. I learned of this game from one of my friends’ cellular phone games, and mind you, though it may seem easy, it is difficult. It would require a lot of imagination (how many positions could you come up with), not to mention tolerance from the sexual content of the whole game.

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The Ukay-ukay has proven itself to be a haven for clothing that came from both heaven and hell. Just last Saturday, my mother accompanied me to buy some clothes there and within thirty minutes I already have five garments hanging on my arm. I have to admit that there a clothes which are so absurd that I cannot imagine any decent human being to be seen in one of those clothes. Although most of the clothes may seem heinous to my taste, I still managed to seek out some really cool outfits. Among these I bought a maong jacket with flower embroideries on the back for only fifty bucks, a G2000 black shirt (I love the texture of the cloth) for a hundred bucks, a Japanese inspired sleeveless shirt for the same price. As the spree progressed, I decided that some of my finds may not be worth buying, resolving to go to Espana sometime within the month to buy some more.

I am not really a fashionista, in fact, at times I would even label myself as a fashion victim. On second thought, there is no such thing as a fashion victim, fashion is supposed to be an expression of the self, if everybody would have to follow a certain rule as to how one is supposed to dress up, isn’t that the same as limiting one’s very own ability to express? If one always conforms, then where is the room to experiment?

My role as “victim” perhaps is illustrated only by the fact that most of the clothes in my closet, aside from the ones I bought for myself are clothes meant to be for an older age (else they be clothes for pregnant women, nevertheless, most are not of my fashion taste) . My mother, being quite conscious of my rather vulgar bumpers, have been buying me clothes which give enough space for my chest area, unfortunately, the stomach area would be so loose that I am often taken as pregnant or worse, to have given birth.

Thankfully, the present fashion trend have a similar concept, therefore I decided to take advantage of the situation. My friend and I are going to dress up in our bohemian “pregnant” shirts this Friday. My friend, too, has an eye catching front, and we wonder how many people would actually have the balls to come up to us and ask up when our babies would come out. I could have a baby, now that I have a husband. On second thought, the only babies I could think of ever producing are but shit and stories.