Three years agone, just when I hast germinated a deathless ardor for online games, my sister likewise exhibited fancy for chatting — the kind which involves web cams, chat rooms and equally lonesome people. And those with a lot of time to dispense either because they don’t have a job or they are not allowed to go out of their homes except when it is a Sunday, or both. My sister belongs to the last, possibly since she’s a deaf-mute but believe me, I decline to take it that way. The million dollar consequence of such set-up: the usual dispute about when someone should use and more importantly, who should use the PC, only to be terminated by my eldest sister’s claim of her throne. With the arrival of the laptop, things were worse the year after particularly due to the lack of a pacifier and my mom’s forthcoming menopause which tends to ramble on why we should sleep by 12 midnight on the dot. For information’s sake, I never complied.

I’d like to believe that the newest usage schedule we have developed for my semestral break caters us both the maximum utility. Zilch afternoon usage for Photoshop, for streaming videos related to Korean boy bands and whatnots, but with unparalleled assurance incurred from the fact that I won’t be taken out of my comfort zone from evening to morn. All these fell into place due to my sister’s newest boyfriend named Dagoberto. I know the name is completely unnecessary and should have been withheld, but really, I find it rare and.. funny. They just met a month ago and by now, it should have been rather obvious that this fateful meeting under the beaming sun (I’m trying to make it sound very fairytale-esque despite the prince charming’s impenetrable-sounding name), was all due to video chat rooms and the software called Camfrog. Is it me or IRL relationships don’t work for both of my older sisters? Anyway, more on that next week.

While on the threshold of dying of boredom brought forth by our family’s strict abidance to Sabbath that calls for a 24-hour no-PC no-outings break from Friday to Saturday, my sister resolved to be in good terms with me, at least for an hour. Frankly, it’s getting tiring to get into arguments with her just because I look stressed out and mad at something, which she immediately takes to be her. As the first step to reconciliation, we had a candid and casual talk. Fine, a heart-to-heart one. She told me she wanted a boyfriend and mind you, this happened before I saw her typing some lines like “I love you.” and “Dream of me.” and before she was forced to admit that she’s in a relationship because I told my mom what occurred before my two eyes. I’m a sumbungera, yes.

As an added insight to what kind of conversation ensued the next minutes, she also stated that Filipino men are dumb and stupid. She doesn’t want to fall for one anymore for they are like what she said.. dumb, stupid and last but not the least, they suck at relationships. As much as I’d like to agree and uphold the superiority of the women race, I also beg to differ with that hasty generalization. I am lacking in sign language skills so I wasn’t able to say this to her: Foreigners are no different; they can be worse — much, much worse. In an international online game I used to play, a random chap asked for my nationality. I said “I am a Filipina”, and he immediately retorted, “A domestic helper?”. My ego received a 1000-hit combo and I am stopping now because I might fill this post with utter profanities. I hope my sister’s Dominican is not among the bad species of foreigners. As for me, I think I will be happy with a local man and a great deal happier with a Korean idol.

I wish you all the best, dearest sister.