Living Life in the Fat Lane

Chapter 4: Sucking It Up

 “I’m not speaking to you, at least not until Malou’s wedding because I’m going to need a ride to the airport, and my friend Sherwin will be in Singapore so he can’t take me.”

My brother, after having apologized profusely, admits defeat. Even though I always try to inject a little humor in whatever I say, he can sense how deeply hurt I am because of what happened with TJ. I hear my mother softly reprimanding him in the background, and it makes me smile just a little. Not really a smile, more like a smirk. You can never be too old to be reprimanded by your mother. Not the fact that my brother is almost thirty, nor the fact that he’s married with a child, nor the fact that he earns more money than all of us combined, can stop my mother from giving it to him. He knows he deserves it. My sister-in-law Nikka cooked my favorite beef morcon as a symbolic gesture of surrender, fully aware that I, and not her husband, won this battle.

After heartaches like these, my appetite not only for food but also for shopping seems to be heightened. I don’t know what it is about being rejected that makes you want to spend the little you have - well in my case, the little I don’t have. Swipe swipe. Just yesterday I found myself at the mall hunting for bag number 55. There are seven days in a week and fifty two weeks in a year. I would still have three bags left by the end of one year if I used each bag every week. I don’t know what it is about me and bags, but I find myself becoming more and more inclined to expand my bag collection.  Maybe it’s because bags come with a one-size-fits-all policy. They’re the only things I can buy without having to think about my size. It’s just so refreshing to shop for bags. I always feel so free. I look at my tattered bag and wonder, why am I still using this piece of crap?

“So did you get a new one?” my mom asks, feigning interest.

“No, not really. They just didn’t have what I wanted.” And it’s true. They didn’t have what I wanted because I wanted a Chanel lambskin flap bag just like Tricia’s which I’m sure I will never get to own, at least not in this lifetime. And the fact that I would have to take a plane to Hong Kong or Macau or Kuala Lumpur to buy it doesn’t actually make it easy for someone like me who lives from paycheck to paycheck. I could save Php25,000 for the trip but then I would need Php150,000 or more just to buy the bag. Better give up on that dream before I start planning my own kidnapping. I wonder how much my brother would be willing to cough up to have his annoying sister back.

            Snap out of it! Focus on what’s important: You. What will make you a more effective you? I’m starting to talk like some psycho-babbling shrink. First things first. I have to finish the book I’m reviewing. That will definitely make me a more effective me. Oh gosh, I better get on with it, then. No more dwelling on this TJ nonsense. He wasn’t even that cute anyway, I mean, please! Thirty my ass! Anyway, there’s always Jason. I can just continue fantasizing about him and get on my merry way. There was nothing wrong with my life then. Absolutely nothing. I liked it the way it was. No expectations. That’s how it’s going to be from now on. Jason will be his cute self and I will be drooling on the sidelines while he goes from conquest to conquest. I would be happy just to catch a glimpse of his enigmatic smile and to hear his laugh that is music to my ears. “Unrequited love is surely the way to go.” The words escape my lips before I could stop them. I didn’t realize that I was thinking out loud once again.

“Unrequited love?” my mom interrupts. “What are you saying, Kaitlin? Mark my words, someday someone will come and sweep you off your feet!” When my mother starts a sentence with the phrase “mark my words” she means business.  Despite this, I just have to make a rebuttal because what’s the point of family get-togethers without the obligatory light bickering?

“I don’t think I would want to be swept off my feet, Ma. I want to be conscious when Prince Charming comes. It would be pointless to finally meet him when I’m in a coma.”

My mother gets the joke but still insists that being swept off your feet is an experience any woman should go through. She still believes that that is what happened to her when she met my father for the first time. And when they rode off in a green VW Beetle with no air conditioning after the wedding, it was heaven on earth.

“Don’t worry, Ma. You and Dad can have your fairy tale romance. I’ll just have an extra serving of this fantabulous morcon!”  My mother clears her throat and looks at my father sideways, signaling to him that it’s time to make the “maybe you can lose a few pounds” speech. Oh so it’s my father’s turn to be the bad guy.

I knew this was bound to happen because I haven’t heard the speech in four weeks. I get this every month while my brother gets the “Don’t you think it’s time for another baby?” spiel. We’re used to it. I’ve almost memorized the whole bit verbatim. My dad just adds an anecdote here and there for reinforcement, but the speech is basically comprised of the dangers of being overweight, the health risks; I hear hypertension thrown in there, high blood pressure and diabetes. Don’t they know that I’m the expert when it comes to obesity and its detrimental effects? Every obese person knows the danger of having to live with the extra pounds. Parents, peers, friends and foes, TV documentaries, health experts, etcetera, have been warning us from day one, and last I checked we were just fat, not deaf. 

My father starts his spiel by pointing out how a morbidly obese actor died some years ago because of diabetes, and how one of his nephews suffered a heart attack because he had refused to lose three hundred pounds. Another story, about the daughter of a former colleague of his, is told for my benefit, after which my father rests his case. He knows I’m tougher to crack than the toughest coconut shell and words don’t normally penetrate until I allow them to. I am considering the possibilities. I am trying to weigh (no pun intended) my options and, in due time, will act accordingly. But for now, it’s time to divert Mom and Pop’s attention and bring up the subject of my nephew’s lack of siblings to the forefront. It’s not fair that I’m the only one getting the heat around here.

“I’ll start losing weight the day my dearest nephew Mon-mon becomes a big brother.” As my grin widens, my brother glares at me with what seems like smoke coming out of his nostrils.

It’s my mother’s turn to play interrogator. “Yeah, Bong, my apo needs a playmate. My gosh, he’ll be in first grade soon and still no baby sister in sight?”

 My father interrupts. “What makes you think it’ll be a girl? It could be a boy, I prefer boys.” My mother, despite being born well before the rise of girl power and women’s liberation, has always been a women’s right supporter.

“Hoy, this is not pre-war Philippines anymore! We have already had two women presidents. Men probably get the job done, but women get the job done well!”

My dad interjects, “Yeah, and what did the second woman president do, huh? Set us back further than the Dictatorial Era!” And the light bickering saves Bong and Nikka from once again being in the hot seat.

“Mon-Mon’s only four Ma, he won’t be in first grade for another three years,” says Nikka. My nephew is four but has already been attending school for two years. Back in the day, one would attend nursery, kindergarten, and then grade one. Now it’s pre-nursery, nursery, kinder, prep and then off to the big school. No wonder kids nowadays start school at such an early age! I just hope all these extra years will help them become more human than animal; facilitate their EQ development, and make them decent human beings.

Feeling that I have already reached my family time quota for the week, I get up and bid my family farewell. Lanie and I are having dinner at our friend Jee Young’s place later. She has just moved into a bigger, pet-friendly apartment, so she can keep her Siamese cat Ofelia. She promised Lanie and me that she would make her famous kimchi fried rice the moment the renovations were done. Losing weight is going to have to wait.