tabachoy. finally.

i'm quite happy to say paulo's finally gaining weight! but doesn't he look like he needs a bit of combatrin? hehe!

have you seen paulo lately?

no longer a baby. sigh.

four weeks worth of kwento

I’m back!

After being away from work for almost 3 weeks – one for being sick and the other two from holidays – I should be feeling refreshed and ready for another, er, 6 months of work. Should being the watch-out word.

The first week

It’s been a while since I had asthma. Eight years as a matter of fact (and twelve years prior to that), so I didn’t recognize the symptoms. It took a visit to a chest physician in another country to know for sure that what I had was asthmatic bronchitis. And no, it wasn’t because I smoked. Haha. I had the flu days before that which brought down my immune system and triggered my asthma. I was forced to stay three days in bed! Didn’t complain because I love, love, love my bed. It might have been almost hell for my Herbie, though, tending to the needs of two sick people while trying not to fall ill.

Then we packed our bags and headed to Manila. The plane ride was… awful. I coughed incessantly and Paulo did his terrible-two’s thing. I felt sorry for the other passengers. Even sorrier the moment we landed in Manila, when my baby boy stood on his seat, smiled to all the other people, and loudly said “BYYYEEEE!!!” and then blew kisses to everyone like he was an angel instead of the horribly bratty kid that he was minutes before. I imagine that everyone there was contemplating whether to strangle or cuddle him.

The second week

Ah, yes, Manila. Even from 100 feet high, I could see the smog that enveloped it. We passed through the embarrassing International Airport that charges a 750-peso Terminal Fee. And braved through the horrible, horrible traffic! No place like home!

But, seriously and with all sincerity, there is NO PLACE LIKE HOME. I would gladly give up being an OFW if both Herbie and I be given decent jobs (no slave drivers please) that had decent salaries that will enable us to buy a decent house and a decent car and send our son to a decent school with a decent tennis program. Until then, we just have to endure the feelings of misplacement and pain, working in a country we can’t call our own and being away from our loved ones.

Sigh.

Only a handful of people back home knew that the three of us were headed there. It was fun to see my friends’ surprised faces when I saw them. The first week was a bummer because I still wasn’t feeling 100%. It was excruciating not to talk when all I wanted to do was just that. So after a few days there, we went to the physician and after a few more days there, I was cured! Hooray! Time to partey!

The third week

I am sooo happy to say that I attended the Eraserheads reunion concert. It was crrrrazy! I was sooo hot, sobrang tagaktak ng pawis ang kili-kili at hita ko. But, mababaw as it may seem, I have never been prouder of the Filipino masa. As you all know, the concert had been cut short due to Ely’s attack. And everyone there was so… sympathetic. No one booed, no one got angry, no one demanded for a refund. I guess we were all in shock. Even the emo’s and “Jackass ng Taguig” groups walked away silently. I’m sure I have not seen a crowd of 20,000 people that well behaved. I might no have been there for EDSA 1, 2 and 3, but I was still part of history. Hehe.

Speaking of history, my Pisay friends and I did tons of reminiscing during our homecoming. Can you believe it? It’s been ten years since high school graduation! Yiii! And I still can’t believe I was too cowardly to speak to my mega-Pisay crush. Chicken. Seriously. Okay, I’m over it. Hehe.

The last night I was in Manila, we had a party to celebrate KK and JR passing their boards. Good people, good food, and of course, videoke. I was super excited since I wasn’t able to sing while I was sick. And this was my big chance to show my relatives that I can (relatively, haha) sing. But, much to my annoyance, one of my cousins hogged the mic. She just sang there, passively, while TEXTING. Oh how I hated her. Good thing I was older than her and I was able to bully her into giving the mic to… Herbie.

The last day

I promised myself I wasn’t going to cry at the airport but I did. Like a baby. Sigh again.

And now

I miss Herbie. I miss Paulo. I’ve stopped crying so I guess I got a little better now. I guess I can get by without a decent home-cooked meal for six more weeks. Let’s see.

haba ng hair ng lola!

getting ready for catcat's big 3-0 :-)