Living Alone (Youngblood)

Published March 17, 1998 - Philippine Daily Inquirer and YoungBlood Book


Back in high school, my friends and I talked incesantly about getting our own pad and living together without parents. We planned and plotted how to pull it off. We made a list of responsibilities, like who would do the dishes, cook food, go to the grocery and clean the house every Sunday. We calculated how much chocolate chip cookies, green oeas and pop beans our allowances could buy. We argued about who would borrow whose clothes on what days. We debated on everything, from who would use the bathroom first in the morning to whether we should stock cases of softdrinks or just buy from the sari-sari store.

Living on our own seemed like a life well-lived. We could party all night and all day long, eat junk food until our sweat smelled like corn chips, smoke and get drunk on zombies and tequilas, and best of all, have cute guys over for dinner!

With our plans carefully laid out and documented (we even signed a contract - I tell you were that serious), we felt an unexplainable euphoria, something not unlike the feeling you get when you finally get rid of that stubborn piece of meat stuck deep between your molars. Unfortunately, our parents would have none of that nonsense.

My own parents literally stood their ground to block me from going out the front door with a backpack-full of teenage possessions, inclusing my cherished Ang Tunay na Amo cassette tape. They explained to me why I was about to do the dumbest, stupidest thing in my life. Back then I didn't feel I was being a blockhead, of course.

Now after four long, ho-hum years in college and 24 months in the corporate world, my high school dream has come true. This is not a matter of choice but of circumstance - but I won't go into that this time. So, here I am, living alone in a rented house. I've tried talking my high school friends into sharing the house (and expenses), but they are too "mommy-ish" to summon the courage to leave their homes.

Is it as fun as independent living is all worked up to be? Do I get to eat corn chips late at night, have cute guys over for dinner and get drunk on tequila?

Heck, only the part about corn chips is right. With no one to share dinner with, cooking has become an unthinkable art for me. But give me a bowl of unmarked mami and I can tell you the brand and flavor just by the smell of it. Living alone has indeed made me a connoisseur of sorts.

Having cute guys over has also proved to be a problem. Do you know any cute guy who's unattached and straight? It's like finding a parking space at the mall during a midnight madness sale.

Right now, I think the only good thing that has happened since I started living on my own is that I've lost five pounds. But then again, maybe I should mention my newly discovered talent in using the microwave.

So, are you considering moving out and living like the Beverly Hills 90210 teens?

Give the thought a minute to sink in and while you’re doing that, go around your house and notice the little things you take for granted: the polished floors, the well-stocked refrigerator, the laundry all done, the ironed clothes, sparkling sink.

If you see your mom preparing dinner, remember to thank her. Living alone not only makes you you wish for that delicious pakbet, it also makes you appreciate what your parents have been doing to make life easier for you.