The problem of being a cellphone recluse

Sometimes, I feel that my phone is wasted on me. Usually, I'd just leave it lying around some part of the house and I wouldn't even see that I have a very important message 'til I remember that I have a cellphone. I'm one of those people whose phones are not a part of their body and having zero load isn't really a crisis. I rarely load up credits and I rarely idly contact people. I have an anemic text life.

It's not really a problem and I only let it bother me when I want it to. There are some perks to being an almost incognito cellphone user. My inbox is clear of junk mail, particularly chain text messages that promise to send some horrible spectre of death to you or someone dear to you if you don't pass it on to everybody you know. When I do receive one of them dread messages, I first fret over the fact that I don't have enough load and contacts to save my soul and then laugh about it and hope for the best. Presently, no bloody couple/man/woman/baby has made a surprise visit to me and I'm still very much alive and updating this here blog thing you young'uns like to have. -Don't believe a thing! I actually thought those text messages were a joke since nothing happened whenever I ignored them until I came home one day and found all those horrible specters of death having a macabre rave party in my house!-

Other perks of having a not -so-living text life would be that my phone battery doesn't really need much charging since it isn't constantly beeping and vibrating. Anyway, I mostly don't care about all that. There are just some times when I regret not making that many social ties using my phone; like today.

(a pretty long and pointless intro, isn't it?) 

Today was a Wednesday, which means that I have to brace myself for 7-straight-hours of edumacation consisting of four hours of Microeconomics in a room that could rival the heat of Dante Alighieri's inner circles of hell (it's freezing cold to those who haven't the slightest idea of Dante's Inferno)* and then 3 hours of Political Science with one of the Sith Lords of the Department of Social Sciences, (Darth) Doroteo Abaya (He's quite legendary in these parts). I woke up to an atmosphere of darkness and gloom and found that it was raining. Nothing serious, just a few sudden showers here and there, most definitely far from crisis rainfall levels in my opinion. I reluctantly got out of my bed, The Sandman having me kicked out of his domain for the time being, and set about the morning necessities: food, bath, and a decent set of clothes. After having those taken care of, I planned on idling around the house until around 11:30 (I had 12:00 Econ102) but my dad advised me to leave a little early or I might get stranded in the house with knee-deep floods around the neighborhood. I agreed with his suggestion, which is rare since I have this clichè tendency to resent my father and all his suggestions/commands (even kain na!), and set out to wonderful, wonderful UP Manila.

*look at me being all artsy-fartsy and hypocritical! I haven't seriously read Dante's epic journey through hell, purgatory, and paradise but I do know that Hell is a very cold place in Dante's world thanks to a documentary I once saw on the Discovery Channel - or was it the National Geographic?

The LRT was crowded but nothing much troubled me on my way to school. I underestimated Taft Avenue's tendency for flooding as I found parts of the street flooded. I wanted to defy the unscrupulous people who construct make-shift bridges over flooded parts and charge the people a few pesos for passage on them, so I went around the whole block instead. It wasn't a monumental feat but I had to walk a long way before I got to the CAS. I got there with only an inch of my pants legs wet and was greeted by one of the freshmen, "Hi Kuya! Wala nang pasok, sinuspend na nila."

Fuck. 

I looked around for some friendly faces to hang out with or anything and found Toni. We talked about our horrible journeys to school (She took a pedicab from Pedro Gil to Padre Faura and was charged P50), an exchange of cellphone numbers, the good and the bad of the day's suspension of classes, org work, and my volunteering to be her Psychology test subject (I agreed). We then parted ways and I was left with nothing to do. I thought about blogging this horrible experience right away but there wasn't a decent internet rental shop around and it would take great efforts to just get to one of them only to find that they have crappy service with screaming DoTA boyz as regular customers. Robinson's Place wasn't really appealing for the moment and I had absolutely nothing else to do. I just decided on retracing my steps to the LRT station and go back home by way of Jeepney.

The trip home was uneventful only that I had to walk some distance farther than I usually would to get back home. I didn't have to skirt around side streets as the ones I mainly use weren't flooded and got back home, fired up the computer, checked some e-mail, got started on this entry, see my work disappear in a blink of an eye due to a quick power outage,  waited for the computer to restart, lent it to my younger siblings first, finished a novel, ate lunch, and got started on this entry again.

All this drivel wouldn't have been possible if I had received a text from someone this morning saying that classes were suspended today. No I'm not guilt tripping on my friends and acquaintances, seriously. Really. Feel my sincerity which strangely sounds sarcastic, but truly, I harbor no resentment. I even have a smiley to prove I'm not mad:  .

See?

Anyway, I now end this post since it's reached the point where I start to brutally ramble about rambling and such, and this lovely lady covered in blood has asked me to slow dance with her and I don't need to see a reason to refuse, plus, I also get to see pre-adolescent-boy -covered -in -blood fume with rage ( he has a thing for my dance partner).