Menthol-Guy

Not just for a one-month vacation, dude. It’s for a lifetime. Though it’s still tentative (like 70 percent sure), I’m quite feeling a mixture of emotions right now (or for the past few days).

Well, Dad received an offer from some corporation (or maybe I just wanted to make it sound grand but that’s what I’ve heard, anyway) that’s based in Abu Dhabi. Yeah, the United Arab Emirates. It’s just near Dubai, like a one-hour drive or something so maybe we could go to Palm Jumeirah and all that classy seven-star hotel and the beach and shawarma stands. Anyway, the offer deals with an amount that’s bigger with his salary here plus education benefits for the minor (and I’m just seventeen, ohmaygad). I should demand for a condo unit, or a Macbook for studying (megaLULz for a spoiled corporate son, as if the very word ‘corporate’ fits with me).

But anyway, my Dad told me about the offer and asked my opinion about it the morning before I go to the concert. So I was feeling tense and light-headed at the same time: excited since I’d be seeing Ely Buendia and the rest of the guys onstage and tense, just tense, since I was kind of feeling that something could go wrong (and it did happen to Ely). With planned events I feel tension since most of them have this tendency to go haywire - not that I’m a huge pessimist but that’s just true, most of the time. I feel the bonkers and think of necessary preparations before even going. Like, mental preparations. Whatever.

When Dad told me about it, I was watching HBO and I was a bit absorbed with the movie. Here’s another thing: he’s completely fresh from the bed and his eyes were even tired from the sleep and he was having a hard time putting things into words so I thought he was just kidding. I was even checking if he’s lucid and conscious enough to even talk about such a serious thing to me - though I really liked his way of consulting to me.

“When will this happen?” I suddenly asked, somewhat excited.

If there’s anything I’ve been hoping ever since I got my ass on here at UPLB, it’s change. I’m demanding change - my course had to be a royal pain in the ass since I’m not really liking it, though nowadays I’m quite glued with my Economics subject since I’m having a good time with all the graphs but generally speaking - I don’t really like it. I should really apply for some writing-related course but I’m just not that inspired to even write those formal letters which addresses appeal to pity and all that please-admit-me stuff.

I welcome change. A lot, actually. Though usually I experience bouts of sentimental shit and all that goodbye stuff the way Holden hates saying goodbye without even surveying the entire place or something, but I’m actually good with adjusting. Living in the Middle East could be one of the major leaps in my life, and I don’t speak Arabian or even understand Arabian, but I hope they could at least speak and understand English - fluent or not. Else I shall master sign languages.

With all the pressing problems here in the Philippines (not politically or generally speaking, though), I think my Dad will accept the offer. I just hope this is not just some shoot-to-the-moon attempt to go abroad, study and work our asses off. Dammet, my Dad’s working on the same corporation for thirty-something years. It’s probably an attack towards our nationalism or patriotism or whatsoever, but I have no comment on that. As I’ve said, it’s more of the personal issues that presses us to actually migrate.

But lately, as I’ve been having a lot of rumination about it (and I’ve only conferred to two people and shared my side of story to them), it’s kind of sad. I mean, c’mon, where in the world can you even play on computer shops? Where can you find fishball vendors and jeepneys and phonies at malls wearing their fake Nikes? Where can you find Blogger’s events, friends who would even convince you to sleep at their dorm, orgmates to smoke with, to watch DVDs with, and even professors to prank?

Our homeland will always be dear to our hearts. It’s the single addiction we have ever since we were born.

I just hate it when my friends would be planning their subjects for the next semester or asking me what I’m gonna take next semester (probably literature subjects) or where am I gonna reside next semester. I wanted to tell them that hey, my Dad and I were planning to leave this October for Abu Dhabi. But I can’t. I’m not even sure about it, but what if everything’s settled? When will I wave goodbye at them? When will I even take a last glance at UPLB, at Drew’s Katipunan?

Sheeesh. I hate myself when I go emotional but it’s really nice to let it out for once in a while.

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