Sugar, Wer'e goin' down swingin'

Yep....It's all downhill from here.

I managed to get hold of dad's phone. And I can't stand that stupid message I found in that inbox. I felt like telling it to mom, including some of my 'classified' documents I get posted here. (yes, this blog place is exclusive. VERY)

But I kept remembering the time I fought with dad and mom. You know, the supposedly 'end of my detective work' thingy. Just a couple of days back I reviewed mom's send items in her phone. One of the message said 'don't let what happend to your mother repeat to your family'. If you had forgotten, dad does not know who his REAL dad is. He has at least three, including an abusive stepfather, a paternal father who dissappeared when he was a baby, and the one we all call 'grandpa'.

Although my mom means nice, but for guys, an insult to their own mothers are pretty sensitive. That's why 'motherfucker' is a profanity. Well mom, even though her means are nice, but I could feel dad cringing in Beijing. She was even worse then Materrazi calling Zidane's mom a terrorist whore.

Anyway, I decided to keep it from mom, like I planned. But I can't stand the fact that dad will probably be calling her again and it's my fault, so I used his 'illegal' phone to send a message to him at Beijing. It goes:

"I know about you and Xab. As a matter of fact, I know a lot more than you think I do. I didn't tell mom anything, and I don't share much of my stories with her anyway. But I want the explanation from your own words, dad. Don't worry, cause your secrets are safe with me. Do it quick before I sell this phone to a scrap dealer.(I really mean it)"

The whole afternoon is empty without messages. But I'm sure he'll crack anyway. As soon as it's 3pm, dad messaged, asking "Where R U?"

"At home," I answered.

"Get into your room, I wanna talk to you."

At that point I swear I could hear a horror movie song ringing in my head. And all the nightmares of dad stabbing me (or at least a bunch of assasins from China ganged up on me) was visually etched in my head, playing like a bad movie. I replied.

"Dad, mom's here. I don't want her to hear. How about SMS?"
"SMS is expensive. Here it's two bucks per send. Call's better."
"You registered to international roaming. One call rate anywhere in the world. And it's ONE CENT per SMS. I checked. So, messaging is cheaper."

A few minutes without reply.

"Fine," he answered. "I'll call you after dark."

"That will be after 8:30pm. Now at my place it's barely 6.50. So that's two hours from now." (I don't know the timeline in Beijing. I need to check later so remind me).

I prepared myself mentally and physically. Boy, it's sure hard to fight like this. I can just imagine dad's face right now. He could be as mean as a sabre-toothed tiger, with all his wrinkles furrow and his hair standing on end (what's left of his hair, I mean).

After all that preparation and even a special prayer to add, I waited for him in my room and he didn't even call. I was still waiting as I sleep, thinking that maybe Beijing was a couple of hours delay or something. As I woke up this morning, the call list is still empty.

I guess dad was just like me. A bundle of nerves.

I messaged dad around 7 this morning. "Well that was a waste of time, last night," I typed. I said to him that I have more time in between lunch in case he wants to call. I wanted to tell him that I think I had met his Xab yesterday, but I don't have the guts to send him on a heart attack.

I met Xab? Oh, I didn't tell you.

I was so upset yesterday when all the professors start to scold me by mistaking me as dad's student. So I ran to the door. This girl in purple shirt and pants bumped into me. As I think of it right now, she look EXACTLY like the picture in this blog...and all the features they described to me.

Yes, she was fair, but any good-woman would now it's due to the effects of thick make-up and whitener. That's unnatural beauty for you. No, I'm not just saying this to spite her. But this is to explain the contradicting statements from her former professor that she's 'tall and fair' and the other said 'she's dark and just average-tall'. Answer is: She's taller than me, but average-tall; and she's only makeup-fair.

Trust me. Only a girl knows that.

Anyway, remember that message she gave dad? She's been searching for him because this is the last week she's here, it's graduation day already. So since dad cannot reply his message without risking his cover on me (which he already did), she had to find out for herself what happened to dad. I bet those professors would tell her anyway, cuz they were there.

I hope I bumped into her today. Or at least dad calls me before I decide on who to sell his phone and upgrade my Nokia.