Subtitled: “The Trials and Tribulations of Gai Olivares”

How mad is it that I now have zero internet access?

I lost my access in Siargao because, well, I can no longer covet the neighbor’s WiFi. I can’t even find it! It’s not like it’s there and I can’t access it because they changed their password. It’s simply not there. What kind of five-star resort has no WiFi??? Seriously, it’s an outrage.

At least 3G works and I can use my phone for everyday Facebook and whatnot.

I lost my access in Manila because, well, my parents had that fire in their house and I guess it would be weird and a little spooky if we had internet without electricity, no? But – get this – my phone’s 3G doesn’t work at the apartment where I’m staying. How absolutely backwards is that??? No internet and no 3G. In Manila. Heads should roll.

I still have my access in Cebu, but how often am I in Cebu? So internet time in Cebu is dedicated solely to the serious business of downloading. Especially because the neighbor’s WiFi has gotten so horrifically slow, but I’m not sure if that’s because of their connection or because my computer is full of bugs from all that downloading.

Turns out that I wasted that one day of downloading in Cebu. I downloaded “Empire” and I can’t even get through the first episode.

I was in Siargao for the first time since December last week. On my first night back, I went to a party and took the precaution of leaving my wallet at home. To minimize items lost in case Evil Twin, Messy Beaucoup, showed up.

A lot of scotch was consumed. On an empty stomach. Of course Messy showed.

When I woke up, I was broke. Correction, I was broker than broke. I remember buying several rounds of drinks at the bar which I, obviously, couldn’t pay for so I must have an outstanding bill that’s still out there. And then I must have fumbled through my wallet and confused the P1000 bills for the P100 bills when I was paying the habal driver… I was just grateful that he took me home in the rain and wanted to give a generous tip. And that Messy did.

Sigh. There is no taking precaution with the Evil Twins, is there? Somehow, they’ll always find a way to royally fuck me over, no matter what I do.

Drenched from the rain, Messy stripped out of her clothes and huddled naked at the foot of the bed (- don’t ask me why). I woke up the next day, freezing, balled up in a corner, at the foot of the bed, with at least 17 massive mozzie/sand flea bites all over me.

They’re so itchy that I’ve dug my non-existent nails into them to try to scratch them out.

I now have the legs of a street urchin. Gross.

I had every intention to run, swim, and ride my bike whislt in Siargao. I even brought my shiny new pink trainers to the island. And what did I do? Absolutely fuckall.

Well, I drank a lot. I ate a lot. And then I drank a lot and ate a lot some more.

Oh, and I also smoked a lot.

The upside of all of this is that I can recommend a burger joint that just opened in town. I think it’s called Surf N’ Dine. Yummy burgers.

There are also rumors of a choriburger place that is somewhere on the boulevard, near the market. I hear the greasy burgers hit the spot when shitfaced, but that they may be inedible when sober.

Oh, and The Other Swedes (Robert and Pontus; Frida just quit) opened a cool, little bar by the beach called Pagoda Beach Bar or something like that. They’re known for their Monday Fundays . Trust me, they’re better at running bars than naming things. The bar is small and cozy, but it’s got this sweet stretch of beach in front of it. And I hear their Mondays are really fun. Days.

If I thought it was a challenge to maintain wardrobes in Manila, Cebu, and Siargao, Manila just got more challenging as I now shuttle between three places:

• my parents’ burned house, where most of my stuff is in boxes
• my friend’s apartment, where I am currently squatting
• and my godparents’ place where my parents have taken temporary refuge while their house is under construction. (They are occupying one floor of the house, which has a separate entrance and is self-contained.) I don’t think my folks are comfortable with me being on my own and always insist that I stay over. Thus far, I’ve said no but, tonight, I wanted to use their internet.

Which means that I never have everything that I need to put an outfit together and, instead, have an odd assortment of random clothing that do not always go together.

And because all three places are about five to ten minutes away from each other by car, whenever I have to go from one place to another, I don’t really care if I’m covered in soot, or if my hair is unkempt, or if I look like I was dressed by a blind hobo.

I’ve gotten some pretty strange looks, especially because I always have these massive glam sunglasses on all the time.

I caught this girl looking me up and down in the elevator. I guess she didn’t know what to make of the sunglasses, the black bolero, the ratty grey tank top, the short shorts and the shiny pink trainers. Not to mention that I hadn’t brushed my hair so it was sticking out in weird places.

I like to think that I’m channeling the look of Mugatu’s Derelicte.

But, truthfully, even before the fire, I didn’t and still don’t care what I look like when I go to the gym.

One time, when Nicolas was in Manila, he and I were going out to lunch. He was nicely dressed, with his Panama hat and leather shoes… He looked at me and asked, “Are you going out like that?” “Yes,” I replied. “We’re only going to the mall and I’m going to the gym after.”

“But you have holes in your pants!” he objected.

I thought the holes were cool. And they kinda looked symmetrically and stylishly holed… Whatever. I still went out that way. I’ve since caved and thrown out the offending holey sweat pants, but it was only done in the spirit of Throwing Things Out Since We Had A Fire And I Shouldn’t Be Packing Clothes With Holes in Boxes.

Which brings us to the last whine of the evening: Yes, I’m back at Gold’s Gym. I know. It’s a yawn and a snorefest, but it’s a short walk from the apartment and I’m so sleep-deprived and exhausted that I’m just glad to have some place so accessible that I have no excuse not to work out. Even if it’s just an hour of walking on the treadmill.

Of course, it doesn’t help that the P&B Company, Mom and Tina’s, and Sebastian’s Ice Cream are also located in the same building. Not to mention that I have to pass by Ilocos Empanadas, Sinangag Express and all these other joints to get back to the apartment.

I honestly have no idea how I could have a biryani and masala chai everyday in India and fit into miniscule clothes, and I cannot have a tapsilog in Manila without looking like I’m ready to give birth.

I’ll have that wine now, thanks. And the cheese!