It Always Rains On My Parade

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The rain and I have a love-hate relationship. It loves me. I hate it. I am perfectly aware that there are numerous benefits that we get from the rain and life as we know it in this planet would not have been possible without it. But that doesn't change the way I feel about the rain. I don't like it. It's wet. It brings flood. It overflows the pathetic excuse for a drainage system in Cebu City and makes disease-causing filth flood the streets. Did you know that a person has a better chance of being hit by a lightning than winning a lottery jackpot? Not cool. How about getting drenched in the rain on your way to work or an important appointment? Not glamorous. At all. Unless you are Mariah Carey singing Through the Rain.

I was born in summer. I'm dark-skinned. Unlike every other Filipino women (and men) I know, I am not afraid of constant or over exposure to the sun. I am not afraid of getting sunburned. I am already burnt. There is nothing more that the sun could do to me that would bring about distress and hoarding of whitening products. I flourish under the sun. I love the sun. I worship the sun. Even if it is scorching outside, I would never bring an umbrella, another contraption I hate with a passion. Which is why I hate the rain even more. Try going somewhere in the rain without an umbrella. I cannot count how many umbrellas I have lost when I was still going to school. It distressed my mother that I had not the slightest inclination to protect myself from the constant ridicule of schoolyard bullies. So what if they call me 'Negra'? They can all froth at the mouth from calling me names but there is no way in hell I'm bringing an umbrella.

It is true when they say that when it rains, it really pours. In the Philippines, it pours a lot. And true to nuisance fashion, it always comes in the most inopportune times. Like when I'm wearing a dress and killer heels on my way to an important appointment and I find that my hair is in sudden need of of blow drying. Or when I'm supposed to play tennis but the court is submerged in rainwater and can be used for swimming. Or when I'm going to meet friends and suddenly the outfit I had previously picked out is no longer appropriate because of the weather. Or on my way to the office when I have a deadline and I get stuck at the other side of the street. Or when I need to run an errand but can't because I have no stinking umbrella. On a side note, did you notice that in the Book of Revelations, the apocalypse is signaled by raining something? Stones, fire, ice, scorpions, frogs, cats, dogs...

And what about the aftermath? Flood water and more flood water. Filth, filth and more filth. Mud, mud and even more mud. Everything is wet and unlike the images that poetry would have you believe, it is not beautiful. It is wet in a depressing and unattractive sort of way. This list could go on. What can I say? When you really hate something, you will not find any redeeming quality in it. Give me something you like about the rain and I will turn it into something awful.

In hindsight, I don't think I will be able to appreciate a sunny day as much if I don't hate the rain. There is always a yin to every yang. Maintaining a cosmic balance is such a pain in the posterior.