The trip to Malitbog, Bukidnon is one of my most adventurous trips ever. And mind you, I have been to many!

Let's begin with the mushy part first. (journal entry written this morning around 6:15)

Nothing, or only a few things, is better than waking up to the sound of a mighty river cascading through beds of rocks. Raging and tumbling, current racing after another current.

God's handiwork is always clear when one is up at the mountains and take time to notice every crevice and fissure dimpling its landscape. Where every tree is a majestic wonder flourishing on its own, just making use of what God graces it with. Where if untouched, weed and plant go together with the necessary symbiosis.

God made everything to be enjoyed, to be used when needed, to continue to bear forth once more, given enough time. Yet we chose to destroy, to get more than what we need, taking more that what we deserve to have.

Before I go and rant and worry about the environment taking revenge and unleashing its fury, i should stop. I mean, Mother Nature has survived an ice age, armageddon, deep impact, independence day and the day after tomorrow. In the end, she will recover. Man is the one who will suffer enornously. I just hope I am urnful of ashes by then.

Beautiful. Balaang Luna. Sacred Land. I guess I enjoyed it because there is a decent enough bathroom to bathe and do other things in.

So I got the enjoy the sun set in blazing and majestic fury. In-your-face-I'm going-to-see-you-tomorrow-but-i'll-make-sure-you-know-i-left kind of goodbye.

and a few hours after, the deep gray darkness is illumined by a soft, soothing light of the fool moon. the night's glimmering crown, accessorized by stars that shimmer like crushed emeralds and rubies.

i wasn't too tired despite motocrossing for more than an hour in the boondocks (fell down and got stuck at one point) and racing cars, jeeps, truchs and other bipeds in the city (scarier and more nerve-wracking). My shoulder ached from the burden of my bag but it was the kind of pain that reminds me I'm alive enough to feel dull aches that can be cured by a good massage.

Beautiful.

An experience I wish to share with the world. If only I can convince them to hop on a motor and traverse the city roads, mountainsides and cogon forests. Ah well, this could be the start to make others itch.

NOW THE EXCITING PART.

Well hindi nga lang exciting, nakakanerbyos pa. And I am the person that doesn't get nervous easily. (By the way, as I kuwento regularly ang pagkakasulat nito para mas masaya. Picture me speaking in my kabaklaan).

Okay, una sa lahat... hindi ako masaya sa thought na sasakay ako sa motor na angkas ng pari. Ok, payn na walang malisya. Pero kasi naman medyo may konting kalandian din itong paring ito. Eh ako pa naman, praning kapag nilalandi kahit pabiro. Pero well, wala tayo magawa dyan kasi wala palang ibang way para makarating sa kanilang kabundukan kungdi motor. So sakay na!

Aaaaah. Di ko kinaya si pads. Ang bilis magpatakbo na parang hinahabol ni kamatayan. Pero sa lagay nun, baka magkasalubong pa sila, damay ako. Ang mga sasakyan ang tunog, "hwang, hwang, hwang" pang daan. Wala pang nanosecond ang tagal. Ya-iks.

Siya, siya. Di naman ako kinakabahan talaga, pero di nga lang ako kampante. Labo. Una kasi di ako makahawak ng ayos. Hiya ako. Pari eh. Kahit wala siyang malisya. Pero di nga ako sigurado dun di ba? The po-went being, di ako makahawak ng tama. Sabi ng JVP partner kong fil-am (na wala talagang malisya sa mga hawak-hawak) "hold me around the waist because i can't move if you put in on my shoulders." NGE NO! Sa shoulders ako naghawak kay padre kasi noh, ayaw ko nga sa baywang. Ngi.

At gaano katagal ang biyahe? Ma-ta-gal! At ang bigat pa talaga ng bag ko. Kaloka. Pagkatapos ng first two hours, may mga sakit na ako agad sa katawan na hindi ko alam ay may capability pala na sumakit. At ha, the first two hours, mild pa lang iyon.

So... papunta na sa totoong area (after two stop-overs)... Putsa! Ang bato. As in ang bato everywhere. Loose rocks. Not the best kind of path to drive a motorcycle on. Sabi ko, "pader, lakad na lang ako." Ba naman, ayaw! More than caring for my welfare, it feels more like machismo. Pagpapatunay ng pagkalalaki. Hay. Payn. Whatever. Sya sige, padayon! Vrrrrmmmmmmmm, dug-dug, dug-dug. Hanggang sa pongoing. Bagsak. Siya. Ako, nakatayo kaagad. Kawawang drepars. Suskolord, sana wala siyang baling paa. Di ko alam ang gagawin ko. Wala naman. Inisip pa kung nadumihan ako. Hello, dumi lang yan. Tingnan mo pa ilalim ng kuko ko, siguradong meron dyan! (ang ta-ray)

Ok, payn, payn na uli. Padayon (bisaya ng patuloy) kami. Ayos-ayos na rin ng konti. Buti na lang bumili na ako ng shades para hindi lumuwa ang mata ko sa bilis magpatakbo ng motosiklo ng ating banal na drayber. So after the rocks, vrrrrrrrmmmmmmmmmmm na tuloy-tuloy na ang biyahe. Merong vrrrrm-pababa at vrrrrm-pataas. Sabi ko na lang kay Lord bahala na siya.

Umabot kami sa literacy area. Chika-chika sa adults and parents. Ek-ek. Seryosong usapan na problema ko na. Ito namang si pads gusto ipasikat ang kanyang learning farm. Siya sige. Mukhang mas matino ang banyo dun, dun na lang. At ayokong magtiis sa plokan kung san ang skul.

Ayayayayayaayay! Heller. Minotorcross namin ang area. Di diretso ang daan! As in hindi talaga. As in, kapirasong lupa lang ang puwedeng daanan tapos may mga bangag (hole) na mga three to four feet deep. Ayayayayaay! Huuuup-dhoooown-huuuup-dhoooown-dug-dug-dug-dug-hoop. Taas baba paikot-ikot. Sinipilyo namin ang bundok.

Ninerbiyos ba ako? hindi. Ang nakakainis, nag-enjoy ang bruhang ito. Kainis. Sinong matinong tao ang mag-eenjoy na puwedeng masugatan, masaktan, mapaso (na nangyari pero maliit lang... nung pauwi na) sa biyahe? Ewan. Di ako iyon. Kasi nag-enjoy ako sa view, tapos pakiramdam ko nasa rialto ako ng enchanted kingdom, pero ang totoo nasa real life ako sa malitbog bukidnon. Loooookaaaaa! Pero wala akong death wish, mind you people.

Masaya naman dun sa lugar. Nandun na ang mushy reflection ko sa taas. Yun na iyon.

Pero kaloka ang pag-uwi the next day. Ulitin mo lang ang lahat ng ginawa ko the day before. Pero iyong pauwi, dagdagan mo ng nakainom na driver (higit isang grande ata), gabi na at hapo ang katawang ito. Masaya ba ako? Hindi. Inis ba ako? Hindi rin. Pagod lang talaga. Medyo kabado na ako kasi nga nakainom. Don't drink and drive di ba? Tapos gabi pa. Naaaaay. Malisyo ng tao. Aalis si father at ang dalaga ng gabi. Putsa. Paki ko. Di na ako tutulog dito kasi may biyahe pa ako uli bukas.

Malinaw ba ang mata ng paring ito? Matino pa ba ang pag-iisip niya? Makatulog kaya ako sa pagod? Mga bagay na iniisip ko. Pero sa kaba ko, di na ako nakatulog. heller. Sa bilis niya magpatakbo, nilipad iyong antok ko. Mga lola, at some point, 100 kph. Sa siyudad pa. Truck, kotse, bata, tao, manok... ah. Tanong pa ng tanong kung okay ako. Ano sasabihin ko? Siyempre, okay lang. Takot ba ako? Heller. Ewan. May magagawa ba ang takot? Di hindi rin. Pero madalas lang akomg "Lord, Lord, Lord." Open to interpretation na lang ni lord yun.

Hay. At gusto pa gumimik ni Father. Hay. Di ko na talaga kaya. Nahiya nga ako sa pagiging KJ. Pero pagod na rin ako. Iniisip ko pa ang biyahe ko sa ozamis bukas. Di ko pa din alam talaga kung paano ang arrangement namin bukas.

Natuwa ako kahit papaano sa biya. Like I said, this was one of my most exciting adventures ever. At kahit bordering pa on nerve-wracking, okay lang. It was a good experience. I'm not sure kung gusto ko ulitin, pero I was glad it happened.

Sa mga gusto magpakaturista, punta kayo ng Kadayawan next year. To prove it's fun, here are ina's pictures.

Pero on the serious side of things, I wonder if the local government is alloting any of their earnings to work towards the improvement of the lives of the tribes these street dances are trying to represent? Tourists come for the shows, the street-dancing, the floral parade despite being barraged my literally hundreds of streamers and banners of sponsors all over the city. But then do they learn anything or feel the needs of these IPs. Of course it's a festival, so masaya dapat. Pero that NGO side of me still finds the Kadayawan the best time to assert the rights of our IP brothers. I wish they have a program (a program-program and not a show-program) related to IP concerns using the Kadayawan as take-off point, di ba? Am I making sense? Basta. Maybe next year, I could prod the office to have our own contribution to the Kadayawan. Not to the city, but to the people who are the reason for the kadayawan. Urging the tourists how to make their contribution and stuff. Exhibit? Book? Benefit-concert (so I can hire FAD crush. Nyahahaha!)? Something. Ewan. Just thinking out loud.

*****
Tomorrow I am off to Cagayan for field work. Look at my sked!

August 29-31 - Cagayan de Oro
Sept 1-3 - Ozamis
Sept 4 - Transit
Sept 7-9 - Tagum
Sept 13-17 - South Cotabato
Sept 26-29 - Tandag
Oct 4 -9 - Zamboanga del Sur

Mapapalaki ata ang expenses ko for massage. Syet. Unfit pa ako. Had to buy expensive facial sunblock because my face has an even discolor na which the derma diagnosed as sun exposure. Grsh. Oo naman. Nasa Davao tayo. Mainit! Pero yezheller, ibang klase kapag 4-6 hours ka naglalakad sa init. Tsk. Tsk. Pero masaya, mukhang busy.

:p

NYAHAHAHA!

Before anything else, mental note. Never make Tatit wait in MTS because she always ends up in the ukay-ukay and whenever Tat is in the ukay-ukay, Angie makes an unplanned purchase. Tsk. Tsk.

So last night, as per request of Meh-Anne to have a gimmick, we went to MTS to watch whatever band was playing. Pink Mustang. That was the name of the band. A name which Tatit dreaded due to past encounters. I, on the other hand, had yet to have one. Without even seeing them yet, I could feel they were a rock band gone wrong. They were playing “This Love” by Maroon 5, and the vocalist was singing it… uh, ala-Axl Rose. I just had to take a look what they looked like. And I burst out laughing when I finally got to see them. The vocalist, singing in all earnestness (as Nin puts it), was in a shiny black trench coat (ang init kaya sa Davao!). He seemed possessed as he banged his head to This Love, looking very much like a Sadako with terrible fashion sense. Yaiks!

After Tat’s dinner of adobo flakes we moved on to Blugre to have some dessert and kuwentuhan. Yummy choco chip chocolate cake. As in, ang rich! Sarap.

We were in MTS, right? Remember who is supposed to hang out in MTS? Yeah, FAD crush. I did try to catch if he was there. Didn’t seem to be as the guys hanging out in the art gallery had hair. Definitely no FAD crush there. Oh well, I did primarily come for Meh so that should be no loss.

On our way home, I once again stole a glimpse at the art gallery. Still no bald man. Oh well. We went to the rest room for nature’s call. After we done our thing, I was the first one to go out. But I stopped in my tracks as a very familiar bald guy enters the men’s room. I was literally taken aback. I shot off back to the ladies’ room and forgot to inhale at some point.

“Oh my God! Siya.” I mumbled to T and M. I’m starting to realize I do not react well to surprise encounters with crushes.
M goes, “tara.”
“Nooo.” I whine. Took a deep breath then said, “let’s go.”
I went out, trying not to look in the general direction he will take once he goes back to the art gallery. I did see his lanky frame cross the strip with my peripheral vision. My friends were less discreet.
“Tumingin siya sa atin.”
“Shit.”
That guy must really think I’m stalking him. Aaaaah. Yes and no to the stalking. Yes, I watch out for him. But hey, I really don’t go anywhere else but MTS. Aaaaaah. I’m never going back there. Yeah right. Aaaaaah. Aaaaaaah. My stomach did crazy somersaults. But then I am definite that was the coke-in-can I downed in 5 minutes and the chocolate cake I helped T devour.
Aaaaah. I think at this point I can be sure he knows I exist. But whether that is a positive or negative thing, I do not know. Aaaaah.

Here’s a bonus! I dreamt of him. Nyahahahaha! I ended up going to his studio (why he has one, I do not know. I don’t think he’s a visual artist). I look around his place, get ready to leave, he asks me to stay (I think T was with me in the dream. But I could hardly remember because I was paying too much attention to FAD crush) to see the war games. War games? Ngek! Scientist din pala siya in my dream. He was making all these toy guns with laser, then one team fights another team using those guns. We played and we won. Jah. I really can’t remember most of it. I do just remember the feeling of being in Tagaytay.

But nyahahaha! Napanaginipan ko siya. Nyahahaha! Yuch! Hahahaha! Yuck. Euw. Yuck. Hahahaha! Uh…

Me have a cru-ush! Me have a cru-ush! Me have a cru-ush! Uh. It’s a very strange feeling to have crush that you can actually see in person. Uh. God, I hope none of his friends happen to be blog hoppers. Shit. Uh. I have a crush. Oh my God. Uh. Shucks. Waaaa-teeeer!

LOVE IS THE ANSWER

Just a few months ago, I had a phase wherein I so wanted a relationship. It’s something that creeps in a person during his most vulnerable moments, I think. When you feel so down with your work and so lost in your life, falling in-love seems to be the best solution to counter such feelings.

Hah! As if falling-in-love is that easy?! No matter how many guys or girls you meet, if there is no magic, no chemistry… then so much for your life’s salvation. (Hmm… chemistry. Magic. So does this mean falling-in-love is simply the triggering of hormones and pheromones? Something to ponder on. Maybe national geographic has a more extensive answer to that). Anyways, I never really believed that having a relationship can solve problems. Truth be told, I feel it complicates things more.

But then, maybe love IS still the answer to so many questions… (JVP brethren let us all sing together!)

Row and I had a chat on the YM during those low moments. I was telling her how it felt disgusting to be looking for the solution to my depression through love. I don’t know how exactly she put it, but she said that any human being has the desire to love. Whether that love be love for a single person, love for his work (the kind that has dedication and commitment, I-believe-this-is-what-will-make-me-happy-that-is-why-I-am-doing-this kind of love and not the I’m-a-workaholic-because-is-there-any-other-choice kind), love for God or love for mankind. Whatever form it takes, human beings seek to love. Wow. Philo teacher nga ang kaibigan ko!

She is right. Especially when it comes to me. A person ran mostly by the heart and a lot of guts with a slight attention to the brain. I AM a person of heart. And a person of heart can not bear to not love. And during the times where I was most depressed, there was a feeling of emptiness because I could feel no love for anyone or anything. I wasn’t even struggling with my faith then. I just felt like distancing from God because I could not seem to say anything to Him, neither was I in-tune enough to listen. My job tired me out as I went from one province to another, climbing mountains, struggling against dust, river, mud and poop. Looking back, I lost my ability to love. Because everything was ALL ABOUT ME. I was not happy. I was not content. I was bored. I was lonely. I. I. I.

Then one day I woke up knowing that in a few days time, 26 would replace 25 on any blank that asks me for my age. One day I woke up thinking what’s the point of a birthday when I remain a curled-up fetus in my little own me-me-me world. Acceptance of feelings has taken place long enough. Time to do something to conquer it. Love. Love. Love.

Love for work. Welcome to a job that could actually make a difference! In my college application for Ateneo, my essay was about making a difference (I had no idea about “men for others” yet). I said that I wanted to make a difference in the world. To make sure I did something good. To make sure I did something to help others. Hello, little girl! There you are! Stop looking in other directions. You’re in it already. Go make the difference you promised to your then-future-school! Right now, I am trying my best to.

Love for him. Ah. Romantic love. I have to admit, those crappy fairy tales that teachers read to us in class… they bored through my pores and stayed there. Yes, yes. I do want Prince Charming. Except he does not have to be charming at all. He could be an ogre for all I care because I can be an ogre myself (hmm… this sounds eerily familiar). But yes, I think I am one of Cupid’s favorite victims. And I let him/her/whatever victimize me. Anyways back to him. Him. A complicated love story of whose ending I do not know how it will turn out, but there is a nagging feeling that it will largely lay on my shoulders. And since I am not ready to make any decisions, I have come to accept. Accept that I do love him. Accept that because I am non-committal, he may not love me tomorrow and may find someone else. Accept that to be free in love is to give it freely, without expecting it to be returned.

Love for all. Family. Friends. Countrymen. God knows how much I try. How I try to keep my temper. How I try to understand. How I try to have a kinder heart and more open mind. But I am human. I have my threshold. I have my limits. I need personal space. I need respect. But I do love all of them. My friends and family especially (loving my mom is no challenge, I just do love her. But bearing with her is oftentimes a different story. And I think, she may feel the same for me). And yes, including my countrymen. Not the hug-and-hold type, but I’ll-do-my-best-so-as-not-to-violate-your-rights type. Gets? Whatever.

Love for Him. This is a tough one. Every night I say “I love you” and know I mean it. Except sometimes He asks too much, don’t you think? But then if you think about it, He has given too much. Then if you think about it some more, He is not really asking-forcing you. He’s just asking-requesting you. And because he’s asking-requesting you, you feel all bad that you have trouble with what He’s asking-requesting you because He’s being all nice about it. Something like I-love-you-if-you-will-do-this-for- Me-, but-I-still-love-you-anyway-if-you-don’t. And He isn’t even doing a guilt trip on you. He’s just being Himself. He’s just being God. But there have been a lot of times I can’t help but abuse his kindness. Bad, bad child. But then that’s just me talking, it’s not even Jesus or God the Father saying that. Just me. Sigh. Being a Christian can be sooooo complicated. But then I wouldn’t have myself any other way. Jesus is my idol. Except sometimes His goodness gets too unreal, I get all confused. (Di pa ba klaro that I am?)

And so there. LOVE IS THE ANSWER to so many questions. Thank you Row for letting me discover that. And I like the way she left me a question to ponder on when I have to make a decision… “what is the most loving decision?”

So what is the most loving decision? To love, I guess.

(Nuninuninu… I think I stopped making sense right after the first sentence. But bear with me. It’s a stream of consciousness thing. And all this brought about by wondering if I really have a crush on FAD crush or I think I have a crush on FAD crush because he fits my type so I will just have a crush on him and not because I REALLY have a crush on him. Uh-oh. This is really so confusing! I’m getting dizzy with all these thoughts. Waaaaa-teeer!)

LOOKING FOR MR. RIGHT… UH, MAKE THAT MR. RIGHT NOW.

My Batch 20 JVP partner, Mhel, texted me on my birthday with this greeting, “Happy Birthday. Sana mahanap mo na si Mr. Right Now.” Natawa ba daw naman ako sa message na iyon. I thought, maybe she meant for me the find mr. right during that moment. But then Mr. Right Now sounded so much better!

Anyway, torpe ako. Matagal na akong aminado niyan. Malakas akong maggatong. Malakas akong magtulak. Pero pag ako na ang iharap mo ako sa crush ko… tiklop, taob at tumba. (Pero nangyayari lang iyon kapag may mga kaibigan na nakakaalam na nakatingin. The knowing looks just bores through my skull).

But then as I was telling Tatit last night, sometimes I really do not want to meet my crushes. I prefer them to “know” them from a distance. That’s why I get very infatuated with rock stars (Dar and Coy) and artists (FAD crush). These are people you can know so much about but would be too shy (well, I would be anyway) to get chummy with. I do not want to meet them because they get demystified once I do. Then I lose the precious feeling of kilig. We don’t want that now, do we?

Mas masaya ang pakiramdam na iniisip mo kung napapansin ka ba niya, kung nakikilala ka na ba niya sa dalas mo sa kung saan siya. Mas aliw isipin na palitaw-litaw ka lang sa mundo niya, tapos mapapaisip din siya na ‘sino ba iyon na lagi kong nakikita’, ‘kilala ko ba siya’, ‘kilala ba niya ako.’

Staying at a distance gives me the room for make-believe, to conjure little fantasies like bumping into each other in a bookstore or being next in line to each other in a coffeeshop. It’s more fun to think of things that have not happened rather than interpret things that do.

Di ba! Di ba! Di ba!

Nope, I do not believe in Mr. Right. Though T has a better term, ‘Mr. Right for you’. That one seems more plausible but something I am not concerned with for the moment (that yearly phase has passed already, thank God). Mr. Right Now however is a concept I am enjoying presently. Especially since after ten months, I have a real, authentic “object of affection” in Davao. Whopeedoo!

Except, once again care of T’s eagle eye, she pointed out the possibility of FAD crush being hitched based on our “research”. Which doesn’t really matter at this point. Because there is no intention for an encounter, right? Right.

Besides, his friend tribal beach boy is in my reserve section. ;p

Kathang-isip.

PADAYON ANG KADAYAWAN (Kadayawan continues)

SATURDAY
My morning should rather be forgotten. The rest of the day was quite touristy though. It was Indak-Indak sa Kadayawan. Main thoroughfares were closed to make way for the street dancing competition. There were around 30 contingents from all over Mindanao who joined. Those are the pictures you will see or saw in the newspaper.

I, the first timer, Shiva and Ina (friends from Manila) went around the city with Jerry, Jerber and Ninin to take a look at the various dance groups. And yes, this supposed Davaoeña, kept having her picture taken with the dancing going on in the background. Turista! But I did enjoy myself a lot.

But the dancers, I doubt if they were feeling good during the day of the Indak. Imagine dancing the whole day (we stopped watching around 4 PM, and it was still going on!) under the sweltering heat of the sun, barely drinking and hardly eating properly.

Anyway, I was beginning to get the feeling that I may just be the next Davao tourist attraction because one of the groups had their audience participate. And who did they get from the crowd. Ako na naman! Hahaha! Oh well. I just went along. There weren't any media men around anyway so it will just be a fleeting memory for those who were there.

After watching the performances, the group decided to go to Gaisano Mall to catch Waway, another indigenous artist who happened to be Ninin’s friend. Jah. We were too early. Preparations were still going one while we there. So I had a henna tattoo while waiting instead.

We then went up to the food court to get a quick bite. While we were on the fourth floor escalator, guess who Jerber saw preparing along with the performers? First authentic Davao (FAD) crush! Four floors dow, there he was in his orange shirt holding his animal hide drum. That was totally unexpected. I could never imagine him anywhere else except in Matina Town Square.

Jerber and Ina had their pizza then we proceeded back to the Atrium to wait for the show to commence. We ended up sitting to the opposite wing where FAD crush was. I think he saw me. Third day we kept bumping into each other, I am getting embrassed.

We didn’t get to see Waway. The front act or whatever they are just happened to be tribal music players in g-strings with rock star attitude. Not a very enticing combination. Imagine the vocalist saying, “I love you” to the crowd. Nope, not very cute and almost near appalling. (But of course, I am overreacting.)

Dinner. It was great seeing Shiva and Ina enjoy a Davao meal. Kinilaw, fresh baked tahong, lato (seaweed), tuna throat and ang walang kamatayang inihaw na manok. Yum! I definitely enjoyed my meal more seeing them enjoy theirs.

After dinner, we proceeded to MTS which happened to be a disappointment since it was OVERFLOWING with people! Because there was a fashion show, with skimpily clad men and women. Because there was a South Border concert on another side and another showband on the other. Nope. That was not the MTS we loved.

Next try was Roxas food festival. Yaiks! That was what Tatit would call showband hell! I like showbands especially when I’m in a dancing mood. After all, I’m a pop-pop-pop girl. But that band, whatever their name was, was the REAL showband hell.

Unwell sounded like, “Ahm not crazy, ahm just a little uh-well…”
We’re jamming sounded like, “wuh chammin, I wanna chammit with you…”
Noooooooooh! Please do not twist your tongue unnecessarily when singing, Mr. Vocalist man! Oh well…

The real highlight of the night was Shiva having her first taste of Marang. That might just be ina's story to tell.

SUBDUED SUNDAY
It was relatively slow for me. I didn’t join the beach fun for the same reason that I would rather not talk about my Saturday morning. But I did get to see the floral parade. On my own. In a tank top and mini-skirt. And shades. Plus camera. Can you get any less touristy than that?

There were around six or seven floats only. Four of them really looked good. But my biggest surprise was the Globe float.

At first I was situated right in front of Marco Polo. But the floats took a long time to get there so I decided to walk against the flow of the parade so I need not have to wait. Waiting is not my strongest point. There was the Chowking float which was a dragon whose head moved and nostrils blew smoke. With very good looking chefs waving their hands to the crowd. I had to decide where I was going to waste my shot. I chose the dragon instead of the chefs.

The next float had a stream! And a flowered eagle and dancing “tribal” children. Cool! Then there was another dragon, but a paper mache one. The next one was a guy on his stomach with waggling feet. Not very interesting really. That was the second to the last float.

I thought I was going home after I see the last one which was the Globe float which hardly had any flowers in it. Until I saw a guy with interesting hair. I thought to myself, his hair looks like my boy coy’s! As the float moved forward, I saw another guy who looked familiar. It’s one of the percussionists from MTS. The beach boy cutie. Then there was the I-am-possessed-when-I-play-my-instrument guy, too! And the suddenly the interesting hair guy’s face came into view. Nyek! Si July! Boy2 Quizon was riding the Globe float. My thoughts were, “ay ganda ng hair niya. Ringlets. Ay laki-laki ng biceps niya. Euw.”

When finally my attention was off July, it landed to a guy with a tubao around his head, eyes covered with shades and mary jane earrings hanging from his ears. Yaiks! FAD crush! He was playing an indigenous guitar. And he glanced and lingered in my direction. Oh no! That guy must think I was stalking him already. I walked faster away from the float with an embarrassed churning from my stomach and thought of going home.

But the naughty side of me whispered in my ear, “this may just be the last time you will see him for a long time! Take the chance.” So I did. I went back to where the floats made a stop and waited. And then there was the float again. If it was possible to be inconspicuous anymore, I tried to be. Stood there, staring at July when I really wanted to look at the percussionists and especially FAD crush. But I’d die if our eyes met because he’d either pretend not to notice (which would be uncomfortable) or he’d smile in recognition (which would be more uncomfortable and far worse).

July started throwing shirts and fans so people started rushing to where I was, so I had to leave the spot.

Ugh. I felt like such a stalker. But I was laughing inside. It was a little funny how was up on that float. I would have never connected him to the floral parade at all. And I was snickering at myself at how he often looked at the legs of the girls dancing behind july, in their ruffled denim minis. At least I saw much to know that he has preference for girls. The question then is, does he have preference for me? Nyahaha!

And thus, that is how my Kadayawan culminates. (parang ang boring na ng dating nang isinulat. Hehehe! Mas masaya kung may live kuwento para performance level ako.)

MADAYAW ANG DAVAO!

The last four days has been very exciting and enjoyable for me. "Bibo" (or fun) days in Davao are rare. People usually stay at home after work or school or usually hang out in the mall for a whiff of artificial cold air. And finally, an event that makes Davao the wonder it is supposed to be.

THURSDAY
After the blah-blah post, I hied off to the cultural performance at the Strip of MTS. Most of the performances were good. But it felt lacking for me. Especially since I work with IPs (indigenous peoples). Firstly, they did not do any research on their costumes. They seemed to just have work whatever they can get their hands on, a Maranao malong, a Manobo blouse, a T'boli headdress. Still, it was fun watching them.

After the performance we went to Rizal Park to join Ninin and Jerber to watch more cultural shows. This time, it was more authentic. The performers were really Maranaos and Maguindnaos. We only stayed for a while since I have had my fill the last two days I was in Maranao. But I do love those hand tricks they play on the kulintang.

We then returned to Matina Town Square. And woo-hoo! No more bellestar cultural show dancers. This time, it was the artists playing on the persussions of all shapes and sizes, plus other indigenous instruments. It was more world music than indigenous really. But this was my kindof music! I was closing my eyes and bobbing to the beat of the music. Cool! George, one of the artists in the galleries of the MTS, brought along some bamboo instruments and gave it to the audience to play with the group. And who did he pick up? Me, of course. Jah. I have no sense of beat whatsoever. But he did insist nicely and gave me courage that there need not be any particular beat. So I went up the stage with Tatit and played. Saya! I just forgot there were people watching and tried to enjoy as much as I can. I do miss the stage and that was my chance. And so the few minutes stretched to something like 45. Meh jumped from one drum to another and also had the time of her life. That was my kind of gimmick!

Note: My first authentic Davao crush is one of the percussionists playing. And everytime he is around, I get so torpe and just smile and run-off. Ngi.

FRIDAY
Holiday! Yipee.

This is the day where I become truly Davaoeña! Because. I went to the... Night of the Champions concert! Yup, that one with Sarah Geronimo, Mark Bautista (my love) and Rachelle Ann Go. Tee-hee! It was Tatit's birthday gift. I would not have gone to the concert and would have contented myself gushing at Mark Bautista's posters. But thanks to T, the jologs in me was satisfied. And so was T.

It was a good show because they were good performers. Of course, T was having the time of her life watching me giggle and daydream (kahit gabi) like a high school girl whenever Mark does something cute, interesting or just being alive. Mahal ko siya! I have a new celebrity to "stalk!" Yey!

But Sarah, she is a wonderful kid. Genuine and talented and funny. I could go on and on and on about what made her the it thing but then that would take up space in my kadayawan story. As long as she remains humble, I will remain her fan. Despite the belting and diva-ness.

We proceeded back to MTS after (my favorite place in Davao, obvious na ba) to catch Popong Landero's album launch. He's a local artist here who plays good reggae but is better at his own composition. Unfortunately, we did not arrive on time. :(

BUT! We were able to catch DJ White and the La Carlota Drumbeaters. Now this girl here does not like house music very much. It is quite tiring to dance to. Maybe it's age catching up with me. But the combi of DJ White and the La Carlota Drumbeaters was spectacular! The beat felt like Diego Luna was in the place. I couldn't help but let my feet dance and my hips groove!

If you remember, I was dragged to the stage the night before. Well, I did it again. Some lady led me to the space that could be called dance floor and made me dance in the middle of MTS. Yaiks! For three seconds I did and went back to the side. Too shy! Too many people!

Finally, the music was getting better and better and more salsa-ish or samba-ish than ever. I looked for an eager companion through Jerry (who was already tipsy) and dared him to dance with me when somebody goes to the dancefloor. He said yes. Yipee!

Now we only had to wait! And after a few minutes... some ladies went to the dance floor. I almost forgot the dare when Jerry reminded me. And so off we went! And I danced in a trance, following the beat of the drums rather than the beat of the spinned music. It felt like I was in Havana with Diego Luna where one just abandons inhibitions and let the body do the talking. I was perspiring from having so much fun!

Friday was definitely the best! Especially since Davao crush smiled at me in recognition. Ack. But I think he saw me dance. Yaiks. *Blush*

More Kadayawan stories to come! May Satuday and Sunday pa. Ang guess what! Davao crush always makes a surprise cameo apperance. Hehehe! Excuse me while I hyperventilate in that corner.

QUIZZES! (links from lost student)



Which flock do you follow?

And I have yet to try cannabis!

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

what the hell is this movie?

BLAH... BLAH... BLAH...

Today felt shitty physically. Today is when the my body reminds me that I am a woman and that I have to live with that. Today I skipped work because being a woman can be painful at times that everything you look at is a blur. Grsh.

But then being a woman isn't all that bad, I just realized lately. Most of my life I would have preferred to be a man (and still do a lot of times) becuase things feel more easy. Though I have had enough revealing conversations with my male buds reminding me that neither male nor female has it easy. Life is tough has no particular bias for any gender. Right now, I do not have many words for what I feel. But as I grow up, I have learned to come to terms with the gifts of having double X chromosomes. Despite being under the mercy of erratic hormones once a month.

*****
I just realized that I have always been a loner when it comes to malling. I remember going around Glorietta on my 14th birthday on my own. My bro gave me a hooded shirt and some cash for a birthday gift. Before I went to Makati Med where my dad was confined for gall stones, I went around Glorietta first looking for something interesting to spend on. I think I ended up buying a Judy Blume book.

After taking some rest to ease some abdominal pains, I decided to go to SM even as my muscles continue to ache albeit on the way to numbness. Unfortunately, I was not able to catch any movie (it was a choice between Collateral and Along Came Polly) that suited my schedule. I ended up buying three books from National Bookstore, all at bargain prices. Yipee!

As there was nothing else to do, I decided to hang out in Coffee Dream, one of the coffee shops stalls there. I ordered some peppermint tea and took out a Diana Wynne Jones book and read through it. And I was lost to all the world. The boutiques swirled into the realm of Kingsbury, flying carpets and transforming cats.

That moment felt like owning the world despite of numerous others traipsing along with me. There was much comfort burying my fanny into the comfy, green rattan chairs while sipping a drink and munching on free biscuits. I could have gone on the whole day! Sometimes I laugh at myself, can I be content doing this? With a good book, yes. The escapism does me wonders. And I feel it best to escape when everybody else is looking.
*****
Lanao del Sur and Maguindanao was once again a beautiful experience. Some stories soon.

I'm in Cotabato City right now.

Welcome to the new jvp website.

According to the JVP executive director, Jo (who met up with the Davao local community last night), since it's launch, there have been an increase in inquiries. Yeah!

Kudos to Mike for a wonderful, wonderful job. Mikoid, JVP can't thank you enough! And happy blogsary. :p

=====
11 MINUTES. Great book. Must read for those looking for passion, searching for love and running away from dreams. It's interesting how a man is able to capture the sensibilities of a woman. And yet, whatever Paulo Coelho wrote there is something universal, regardless of gender or preference. I usually do not like his happy endings as they tend to be sappy and oh-so-cheesy. But this one... this one just suited me fine.

So I am off to Dianna Wynne Jones now. Yey!

It has been a relatively good record for reading for me this month. Since the first, I have been able to read three books. Considering that I have been almost always out for the last week. The Wish List by Eoin Colfer, The Valkyries by Paulo Coelho (Didn't like it much) and Eleven Minutes.

FRIDAY THE 13TH! Yeah!

MORE MARAWI

One thing I have noticed with the Maranaos during the two times I have gone to Marawi, they are quite generous with what they have. The owner of the Noramis Convention Center happened to be the best friend of Ate Baicon’s mother. They have not seen each other for a long time and even ended up crying with joy when they finally were able to. Tabang Mindanao was then able to receive quite a discount for our stay in their hotel.

And everytime I leave Marawi, I always bring home booty with me. Last time, Ate Baicon gave me a shawl that can be used for traveling. This time the owners gave the girls from Assisi, elegant shawls that can be used for formal occasions. The boys were also able to get their own parting gift (those “headscarves” that you see a lot of Arabs on TV wear, dunno what it’s called though).

I also noticed that the female Maranaos are quite sweet with each other too. There was this young participant from Kapatagan, Lanao del Sur who was also an Assisi scholar who we are quite fond of and equally fond of us. A day would not pass without being hugged by her at least three times. Our old friends would also greet us with the same warmth. During those three days there, I felt really welcome by the people.

***
There was one discussion during the assembly where one participant (non-muslim) that raised the idea that people should not introduce each other as Muslim, Christian or Lumad because it would remove all unnecessary bias. That idea raised a lot of disagreements, including mine. Ate Baicon put it clearly that for people, especially for the Maranaos, identity is a very important thing. They are proud of their culture, they are proud of their religion. To take away their identity as being Muslim or Maranao, would be to take away who they are. And I think the same goes for any faith or race. Denying who you are would not really do anything about the problem. It is just turning a blind eye towards it. Cultural appreciation and respect are necessary among races.

Marawi is known here in Mindanao as the “carnap” capital. I have heard many stories, and sometimes other Muslim friends tell a story or two about such incidents. But then isn’t Ilocos itself a hub for smuggled motorcycles? Some say Marawi is a dirty city with garbage littered all over the market place, but then isn’t Quiapo and Divisoria like that as well?

One thing I have learned in those three days, there really is an absolute truth. What that is, I do not know. If I did, then I have solved the mystery of life and everything would cease to exist. Amidst the diversity of cultures, there is something absolute after all. There is Allah, God, Magbabaya. They are one and the same, but the people are not. People need to find something they are comfortable believing in. The most important thing when dealing with other cultures is never to impose your own, neither put down the others. The diversity should be seen as a source of strength rather than a threat to unity.

It will not be easy. There have been too many years of bitterness between people. Mostly out of ignorance, out of stories heard rather than actual experience. But with little efforts like those of Tabang Mindanao, it will plant the seed for the peace everyone is looking for.

There is still much I want to discover about the Muslim culture. Everytime I talk to Ate Baicon, I am moved to be faithful to my own beliefs as they are. And the more we really see the heart of what we believe in, the more we believe in others no matter how different they are.

Sandals

What kind of shoe are you?

MARAWI: MY KABABAWAN

The reason I volunteered to join the Peace Builder’s Assembly.
Because it will be held in Marawi.

The reasons I want to go back to Marawi.

The weather.
The Marawi climate is so much like Baguio. At ten in the morning, we were clad in our jackets while the participants were shivering in their seats when they were having their session on the third floor open-air ballroom area of the Noramis Convention Center. The air gently envelops everyone with its cool embrace which somehow brings one to a good mood. The river that sings in the background is a lilting lullaby especially in the early afternoon when sleep is so inviting. Comfortably wrapped like a burrito inside my malong, my three nights in Marawi had been restful slumber.

The food.
Palapa. The Maranao spice. Starts like a gentle tickle in your mouth, almost like you didn’t have any. And then it hits your taste buds with a bang. Whooooooaaaaaaahahahaha! The spicy, zesty taste dances around your tongue like popping candy. Eating becomes an adventure with palapa.

The rest of their cuisine is something to watch out for. I have always loved curry. And curry becomes doubly delicious when cooked and made in Marawi. And then there is the spicy nangka. Gastronomic, I tell you. (Now, I’m craving for that Tai Nam Goong soup in Thai Ming!)

The shopping.
The Marawi dry goods market is the Muslim Divisoria. Stalls are festooned with colorful malongs and shawls of any design and pattern you can imagine. Shawls that go for P800-1,000 bucks in Rustan’s will just cost you P120-250 in Marawi! Prices vary according to the origin of the shawl. Those that come from Saudi Arabia fetch between P200-250. Indonesian and Thai shawls can cost from P120-150. Hongkong shawls range from P140-180. I wanted to buy as much as I can for early Christmas presents but I only brought P1,300. But with that I was able to shop for Christmas presents for five people, pasalubong for my mom and sister and two shawls I can use for the area.

My three days in Marawi felt more like a vacation than work. It was great. I really, really enjoy visiting Marawi. I am sure living there would be an entirely different thing. But I could honestly say, it is one of my favorite places in Mindanao.

(coming up soon… their culture and the people)

Am I stupid to refuse the offer of pasalubong of badminton shoes from Kuala Lumpur because I already have new cross-trainers to serve that purpose? But it feels so much of a waste to have badminton shoes when I am neither good at the sport neither am I that serious. Di ba? Di ba? Hmmm…

Just came from a two-day Peace Builder's Assembly in Marawi City. I wasn't a participant. I just tagged along with Kuya Ben (this year's Ramon Magsaysay Awardee together with Haydee Yorac) so I can come back to Marawi.

I have not much time right now to put my thoughts together. But I would like to say that it is always during activities with the Muslim that I really enjoy. It is always a learning experience for me.

They never fail to amaze me with how they are conscious of living out their faith in everything they do. Ate Baicon was telling us to go back to Marawi during the Ramadan if we want to get good bargains for their products. The logic: Ramadan being a time of thanksgiving is also a time for sharing what one has to others especially the poor. We do have our own version of Christmas sales, but I doubt if the capitalists think of the poor when they mark down their prices. I'm sure they are more concerned with profits more than anything else.

Anyway... more on Marawi and experiences with the Muslims soon.

Goodbye, Reeboks. You have served me well. We shared so many times together. At least, I know you are in good hands. And that you gave out with a very big grin on your sole. I loved you. And I love you still.

Hello, Adidas. For many years, I have been looking at you longingly everytime I pass the Adidas racks. And now, you and my feet feel so MFEO. Right now, I am still in-love with you.

(I actually wrote a long, long entry but figured it's better to be concise especially when it is just rubbershoes).

MUSINGS ON A WEDNESDAY MORNING

1) I really enjoy Radioactive Sago whenever I hear them. The first time I heard “Gusto ko ng baboy” I was laughing hysterically internally that I feared the air would come out the wrong end. This morning I heard “Astro.” Once again, they strike with their profound hilarity. They will be on my list of things-to-teach-if-ever-I-become-a-teacher-of-pop-culture together with Eraserheads and Rivermaya.

2) Looking at the accessories I bought and the clothes in my closet right now, I think I have the fashion sense of a, uhm… 15-year old. It must be from reading too much WITCH and watching too much Lizzie Maguire and That’s so Raven when we had cable. Yaiks. Thank God, I get away with it.

3) Last night was the second Josh Groban guesting in Ally McBeal. That one with the Mayor canceling the permit for the people to have a Christmas parade, their sort-of 9/11 tribute. It was the third time I have seen that episode, and I was still shedding tears. When John Cage did his defense for the spirit of Christmas, when Josh Groban’s character sang in church (not sure if it’s “to where you are” or “you’re still you”) for his mother who just passed away. This is one of my favorite episodes ever, the one with the most heart. (Another would be where Frank of Murphy Brown guests as a dying man wanting to fly over the river).

4) Erning to a Lagarista: “Sa tagal mo nang lagarista, nakita mo na ba si Dennis Roldan?” To which he answers yes. And then there was the one with the barber, Tado asks him, “ano ang hindi mo makakalaimutang karanasan?” and the barber answers, “hindi. Hindi.” Nyahahaha! I love Strangebrew. It’s a show about wala lang. And yet it makes so much sense.

And an entry from my real journal (entries only come in once every two months or around that. I have not had the discipline to write long entries by hand anymore)…

The past months have been grueling for my mind, heart and soul. My queen-sized bed is a constant reminder that it is too big, with a gaping emptiness the size of another human being. The occasional tropical storm that hits Davao, patters lightly against the roof and the window sill yet echoes loudly in what I thought was the hollow of my heart.

Seeing lovers and watching love stories leave a bittersweet taste in my mouth. The dripping saccharine taste bursting forth from the idea that love is real and it is all around me. The disgusting bile permeating my pores from the thought it may never be for me.

An unresolved love story constantly sears me with constant pain and rare joy. Oftentimes, I would ask fate how it can stand to be so cruel, letting love go deep yet only to find itself in a deep, dark trench.

Then a gentle, loving nudge from time, people who care and God came. A nudge that took weeks to get the message across, several hundred kilometers away from my current nest. Maybe I just really needed the change of scenery more than anything else.

Even shopping did its turn for me. This time I let myself and my wallet go. I stopped overthinking my purchases (only because it was my birthday). It was great. A chance for re-invention. But the greater joy was spending time with a friend who has been a constant shop partner in the last ten years.

JVPs. LHC. Mimo. Quint. Spending time with them allowed me to once again see how I was. That was the great thing about seeing people who saw little of you. They see you according to their memory of you. And these people were the ones saw me see the world as a beautiful place with good people. These people were the ones who knew who I really am. These people were the ones who knew what I could be.

Then there were those who reminded me that there are bigger things than I am. My officemates who have worked hard and so long for Assisi because they knew they were doing something good, they were taking part in something beyond themselves. Kuya Ben’s Ramon Magsaysay award and Ambassador Dee’s dedication to his foundation tells me that I have to take advantage of this opportunity to take part in the greater scheme of things. Not everyone who wants to serve has this kind of chance, so I should not let it go to waste. All my officemates have their own pains, their own troubles and yet they go through their jobs with just as much love and devotion.

Of course I will not deny the pain I went through the past months. Neither will I delude myself into thinking that it will all be roses from now on. In fact, a single rose is dotted with thorns all over. And it is only beautiful because of those thorns because they protect the pretty petals from harm.

And so it is my Resurrection. My rebirth.

Labor, they say, hurts like hell. I imagine it’s dysmenorrhea multiplied a thousand times. Yet after being covered by a film of filthy sweat, dried blood and leftover placenta, a mother forgets the pain once she holds in her hand that beautiful little creature from inside of her.

Life is about living and dying and being born again. Even Christ had his own passion, death and resurrection.

Thanks mikoid for doing the new JVP website. Ang galing-galing!

Sidestory: Mikoid asked me months ago if I can suggest an institution that he could do pro bono work for. Two groups came into mind, JVP and Assisi (but of course!). But I was biased for JVP knowing how little money we had in the foundation (and hey, i'm part owner together with 600++ other former volunteers!). I contacted Jo, the executive director, about Mike's offer. You could call it Divine Providence as they were just discussing it recently (it has been one of the things we have been needing to improve on for the longest time). And so Jo and Mike met and did the work. I did give Jo a condition, jokingly though. My picture has to come out somewhere in the website. Tee-hee! And it did. Cool. Fifteen seconds of fame. :)

DO YOU FEEL LUCKY TODAY?

Today meaning yesterday. And yesterday felt like the Amazing Race. My flight was 1025 AM so I was ready by 820 which I thought was ample time enough to get to the airport. I asked our helper to wait for a taxi as I did last minute packing.

Well, last minute packing when you are still groggy from an almost all-nighter phone conversation… one is still bound to forget things. I left Books of Magic because my bro borrowed it before I packed (sorry, bunns!) and the books babypink lent me (sorry, babypink). But don’t worry, somebody will be coming over two weeks from now and will bring it for me. Really sorry guys!

Time was passing and the clock was ticking. I could feel a movie montage coming on as 8:20 became 8:40 then 9:00 then 9:15. By that time, I was in semi-panic mode. I called PAL asking if I can still rebook my flight in case I won’t make it. Since it was a jetsetter pass where I just had my name and reference number, there would be no fees to pay. Yey! One less thing to worry about.

At 9:20, I went out of the house already to see the progress of getting a taxi. Nada. Then a cab stopped. Jeana (our helper) was having a conversation with him. I could read the words in neon sign floating over the taxi – NANGONGONTRATA. Fine. Fine. I’m desperate.

Conversation:
Me: “Magkano ang sisingilin niyo?”
Taxi Driver: 150
Me: 130 na lang
TD: magkano ba papunta dun?
Me: 100 lang.
TD: bente na lang, eh.
Me: Pareho lang tayong naghahanap buhay kaya alam natin kung gaano kahirap kitain ang bente. Bawal nga ito, eh. Puwede kitang i-report.
TD: O sige, sige.
Me: (pointing to my house) Dun po. Pakidala ng taxi dun.

And so I walk to my house with Jeana following me. And then the taxi driver calls to me, “Miss, kakain na lang ako.”

I was near rampage. That was the first time I sort-of-humiliated anyone and myself in public. I shout (remember we are in the middle of the street) “Gago ka pala! Makikipag-usap ka tapos hindi ka tutupad! Tarantado!!!” I was so angry. When I got inside the house, I shouted, “PUTANGINA, ma-flat sana sasakyan mo.” I wasn’t sure if he heard it, but up until this moment, I wish he did.

I feel evil but at the same time, I remain unrepentant. I kept saying, “sorry, Lord. Sorry, lord.” But I still made excuses for myself. It was so unchristian, true… but aaaaah! People just sometimes make it hard for you to be good.

Anyway, bumawi si Lord. I asked Jeana to try again until quarter to ten. It was already 9:35AM. I knew it was cutting it too close but then I just had to get on that flight. It was a matter of pride, of thinking of all those minutes wasted and the incurred wrath. I had to get to the airport.

Just a minute after Jean went out to get a taxi, there was one. The old manong didn’t commit any ad miserecordiam fallacies nor did he ask me to add to the fee. Whew! And so off we were to the airport. But he still stopped at a gas station. I groaned quietly to myself. And in my mind I was going… “aaaaaaaahhhhh!” Then my phone rang. It was Jean. I left my wallet. So we had to go back. And I was mumbling, “Thank you Lord hindi pa kami nakakalayo.” Little blessings.

We didn’t go as fast as I would have wanted. The traffic wasn’t bad but it was slower than usual. But we were there in twenty minutes. Every second to the airport was torture. The guards were taking their sweet time inspecting the vehicle. I had trouble getting my stuff out. But joy of joys! The davao flight was still checking in! I made it. Barely. But I did! When I got to the pre-departure area, my butt just barely made an imprint when the nice lady on the PA system called for boarding. Whew!

So did I feel lucky? Damn shit, no. But I was. God loved me yesterday.

And the days before that. And today. And the days after. And so on and so forth. *sheepish grin*

BIRTHDAY NA TALAGA ITO.

A smile lingered on my face as we were doing the birthday countdown for pia and my birthday in Dish ABS-CBN. In contrast to the lonely last year, last night was a blast as JVP friends would go "five minutes..." "one minute..." than "Happy Birthday." It has been a long time since I had a fuzzy warm feeling that lasted longer than a moment. Nikki's comment that I looked like a gypsy made me happy too. I like looking like a gypsy!

We danced. We ate. We drank. We ate again. It was wonderful.

Then when I arrived home at almost three o' clock. My brother woke up with the racket I made with the the gate. And surprise, surprise! He gave me a gift-wrapped gift. Rare on birthdays! Ta-dah! Jill Thompson's take on Neil Gaiman's Death, manga style. And the first book of Books of Magic. Naks! Touched I am. And no hirit from bro that it was so late.

Mom called at 7 AM (groan). My response was barely comprehensible to me. I don't know with my mom. I'm glad though that she was going to the beach.

Met up with Q for lunch. I love my JVP partner. He's such a great guy. Surprise, surprise though as I was shocked with the beard nestling on his chin and mouth. Ack! Didn't look bad though. Just strange. Hehehe! We had dinner at Sentro (who served really great food), talked about stuff. My sack of English ran out and my sentence construction got more terrible every minute. Hahaha! But it was really, really, really great spending time with my partner again.

Calls and texts came in from 11:58 PM yesterday to 9:45 PM today (maybe last minute texts will come pa). One call live from London (complete with accent. hehe!).

Life is good. It is always a blessing when people go out of their way to be special.

To all those who greeted me and prayed for me and everyone who took part and continues to take part of my life, my deepest, sincerest gratitude. Life wouldn't be this great without you. :)