i don't know what i was thinking, not going home for the weekend. said to the folks, have a lot to read, have a lot to check. yeah, check and read my ass.

and so, now knowing what will happen to the wind and rain that woke me up yesterday morning in my katipunan place, i sent a quick message to tatay, that yes, i'll be showing at his doorstep later in the day. but even before i pressed the 'send message' button, a message from him beeped:

agnes' box coming today

uy, our first honest-to-goodness balikbayan box, and for once, they're not from titos and titas and cousins who forever guess your underwear size, your favorite fragrance and your preferred chocolate and whether it's okay for them to send spam regular (and not spam lite).

knowing that it's my sister, there will definitely not be any bar of soap, bottle of shampoo, bar of chocolate, not even a can of corned beef. i was already guessing that the goods are properly labelled (to the correct recipient) and taped to madness.

coming home to a house with no power was no obstacle. i immediately hollered 'where's the corned beef?' (lame)

and there it was - the empty box, already divested of its contents and unlike conventional boxes where the goods are jumbled to annoyance, agnes' box (as it shall be known from this point) had its goods neatly stacked - with their boxes included.

this means the boxes of the wok, our folks' shoes. this led to the obvious comment - it could've held another can of coffee

oh well, the mixed nuts were there. and so were the two bottles of mrs dash. and yes, one can of columbian coffee.

my stash? ah, my pride and joy - my four books (two by derrida, one by lacan and one by baudrillard), the monetary value of which i can guess far exceeded the collective value of the two pairs of jeans, the death cab for cutie t-shirt, the clinique press powder and liptick and the great lash mascara.

of course agnes being agnes, she pestered me to no end two months ago as to our respective sizes and color preferences. now we're enjoying the benefits of her precision, not to mention her predilection for picking five colors of the same article of clothing.

i miss the old forwarder service my tita inday used to patronize - forex. as part of its delivery service, the forex people would take a picture of the recipient beside the box to show that they, indeed received the precious package. when they came twice to our house, we usually shove tatay to do the requisite posing.

boxes induce their own traumas, which was in my case my continued aversion to baby ruth and butterfinger candy bars. one familiar with the nature of boxes could probably guess the reason - yes, the unholy combination of fragrant soap and candy bar commingling inside the box during its journey to the philippines.

back then, there was the five-year-old stock of candy bars, all fragrant, the towels not to be used until twenty years later because they're just too many. my favorite was the sticker pad of animals shaped in alphabet letters.

some years, there would be the coffee gold rush - cans upon cans of yuban coffee and stacks of coffee filters that'll last you until oblivion - you'd have to think of creative ways to finish them off.

it's funny how despite the countless boxes which came over the years, yesterday's box was like a newborn baby totally alien to the house. then its cries would come to be plastered on the walls, slowly infiltrating your consciousness. and then it's just there, a reminder of the sender and the quirks, habits and each instance of shoppers' high all crammed underneath the boxes, bottles and packs.