my wife is having a hard time trying to cope with my parents.
my folks aren't really a dash of sunshine, as most would think. we're a showbiz family; we keep the pun amongst outselves (don't get me wrong; i'm not throwing mud at them. just explaining why my wife is in "agony", so to speak).

anyway, carla's doing okay; she's starting to enjoy going about the neigborhood and the local malls. this would have been fine if my folks wouldn't be slinging words for knives at my wife whenever i turn my back. just the other week, carla and i decided to send my wife to work, accompanying her to the nearest jeepney stop (on regular days, i accompany her to the bustop where she rides a shuttle bus going to work; i, on the other hand, ride a van service across the road). when i got back home with the baby, carla dozed off. so i let her sleep on the bed, and i went about my daily chores, i.e. paperwork. sadly, i had to work later that day. when i got back in the evening, the househelp had told my wife, who eventually told me, because of my nagging ('cause she was whimpering at a corner), that my father side-commented with the P.I. words, ranting about me tagging along my baby to send off my wife to work. needless to say, i went ballistic (in the calm, devilish way that i do).

***

after graduation at school, where my mother and my sister attended the commencement rites of my magna cum laude brother, i spent the entire bus ride saying my litany to my mother. to her dismay, i did not leave her room to explain, nor to butt in. i spent 40 minutes lecturing her about our style of parenting, explaining to her that experience doesn't always weigh more than wisdom (this came from a rant from my dad, stressing that 'cause he's more experienced, he knows better. bah, humbug! he messed with the wrong guy).

friends, i hope you understand. i'm not just protecting myself; i'm protecting my wife, and my kid (whom in the next few years might turn out to be a monster if we don't play our cards right).

***

speaking of graduation, i was dismayed to hear people still comparing me with my brother who graduated magna cum laude. f***, these people don't know s*** about who i am, and still they compare us. for the record, these things i did for my brother:

1. i didn't tell everyone immediately that he was my brother because i didn't want him to live in my shadow, or (sadly happening now) be compared to me. this comparison of siblings was the very reason why our younger brother ian (the one who died in a freak motorcycle accident early this year) developed an inferiority complex, and eventually lost interest and amore to us, his siblings - our parents kept comparing him with me. everytime people from work compare my with derek, i miss our brother even more. because people like them "killed" my brother indirectly. what's worse, they enjoy comparing us, as if they knew everything. i hope they rot in hell.

2. i dare not compare myself to my brother. he has skills that i don't have (like his calculus skills; man, he's good), and vice-versa. what then is the point of comparison? but if you really want to know who i am academically, here is my profile: (A) i graduated cum laude in 2000, yes, simply because i was 0.08 away from being magna cum laude (the reason: i had a word war with the VPAA of BSU during my thesis defense. the lesson: i don't back down easily, regardless of who you are, or how old you are. if you're wrong, and you mess with me, you're barking at the wrong tree); (B) i have a master's degree, yes, with a grade point average of 1.18; (C) i graduated with five other honors in college, including INSTITUTIONAL SCHOLARSHIP from FRESHMAN TO SENIOR YEAR, maintaining a GPA range of 1.25-1.6, an alumni award, and the president's award; and (D) i was the first and only graduate of development studies from BSU.

what else do these people want to know about me? do i prance around school with a sash on my shoulder waving my accomplishments? no. because that's absurd, stupid, and puerile (for people who don't know what puerile means, go get a dictionary, twit). you twits make me sick.

***

i've never been so enraged.
at least i let it out.
time to cook.
be safe. hey.