My Traffic Life

I am Mae German. 34 years old. Born in Mangatarem, province of Pangasinan. I was taught and trained by Juan Dela Cruz, and I am currently being trained for more by Uncle Sam. Writing since the age of 12. Blogging since 2001. I keep a notebook and a pen in my bag, on my bedside table, and inside the bathroom. Misses a lot. Sometimes even my own voice. Loves to laugh. Sometimes even at myself. I am a work in progress. My ultimate dream is to be a SAHM. That is, if I am bound to have that chance in this lifetime... and I am.

My Traffic Rules

Don't take my words personally. At times, not even literally. This is my journal. You're my reader. My spectator. Applaud. Yawp. Yawn. Smile. Frown. Rave. Rant. Or not. Neither can I see you from where I am standing nor can I hear you.

This is not my life. Maybe just a part of it. But this is me meandering through life. My emotions fluctuate. My opinion varies. If it's too hot in here and you can't take it, leave. If it's dull and too cold, go somewhere else for warmth. I won't wipe the frown on your brow.

My stories, unless stated otherwise, are mostly fictional. Fiction could be based on reality. Still, they are fiction. Don't own it. Don't live in it. It is what it is. Leave it.

Watch out for the traffic light. Follow the rules. Cruise.

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I didn't know that you have to be 18 to play the lottery in NJ or any state or country at that. For one, I do not usually play the lottery and if I had, I did not care much about the rules, whatever they are. But I was waiting for my bus ride when I saw the store that says, "Lotto Inside" side by side with a sign that says, "dental discounts" on their glass window. I didn't even know what to say. Back in the Philippines we have what we call a "lucky pick". I have to have that game, I told myself. I don't really have any "specific" numbers in mind.

The lady had a hard time understanding my point. I kept saying "lucky pick". Well, luckily, I remembered the term "machine-pick". There, before punching in on the register, the lady gave me a hesitant look. Then she finally had the courage to ask, "Are you 18?"

"I am 31," I quickly replied.

"Oh my God, I am so sorry. You don't look like it," she said, apologetic. "You look so young," she was mumbling as she punched the keys on the register and handed me my receipt.

Then I realized, maybe I should do something to my hair to look older? Perm it? Cut it short? Or stop wearing my baseball cap, maybe? (well, I wuv wearing caps and hats!). Or was it my brown backpack with pink flowers all over it? Maybe I should start wearing make-up. Ugh.. No way! Na-ah. But hey! The Bingo card is welcoming me soon. "Wala na sa kalendaryo ang edad ko" ika nga ni Juan Dela Cruz. As much as I'd like to take it as a compliment (thanks to the good genes), I don't want to be eighteen!

Eighteen?! So that's why I am still single! Is that it? Believe me, I took it seriously that I asked myself a question while I was waiting for my train ride at the Grand Central Terminal in New York the other day, when I see couples everywhere-- of different ages, of different races.

"How come these couples have easily found their 'the one' amongst the thousands and millions of people in the world, while I have not found mine yet?"

Then came a better question: "Am I looking for my 'the one'?"

Well, I guess like the lotto numbers, I don't have someone 'specific' in mind. And although I have some specific prayers for my 'the one', still I say, Thy will be done.

His pick will be my "lucky pick". But yeah, the Bingo card is welcoming me soon. So, Pareng G, please be quick! *lol*

Readers have left 3 comments.

1. Untitled
tito joe, Unregistered

it's "quick pick"...