li'l kid on a field trip

At Sky in Baguio, July 2007

Here I am again feeling like a 6-year-old, all excited about another Baguio trip. Though this will be the first time for me to go to my fave place without Francis (it sucks). Nevertheless, there are still reasons to look forward to the trip, three of which are: (1) it's going to be an escape from all the fatal stress from work; (2) it's the Panagbenga Festival, which means lots and lots of street dancings and photo ops (I just have to really wake up early and not be contented to watch the festivities on TV despite being in Baguio already--this happened a few Panagbengas back, to Francis' dismay); (3) it's in Baguio. Period.

Baguio really comes in good timing. I think it wants me to go back and again. I don't really mind.

Speaking of Baguio, Francis surprised me when he mentioned about relocating there. We were starting with the wedding planning last night when we came to the topic of where we'd be living as a married couple.

I wasn't prepared when my fiancé told me he's considering relocating to Baguio. At first I was scared. I mean, there's no doubt about it that I love the place. But what would happen to our career then? And besides, I'm really not ready to live in a place that far away from my family.

But now that I think about it, the prospect excites me. Like what Francis said to me last night when I asked him about leaving our jobs, I can always go full-time freelance and he can find a new job there in the Baguio mines (hehe), and then maybe we can apply for gigs at Ayuyang Bar...

My heart skipped a beat thinking about the possibility. Oh, Baguio...

Maybe. Hmmmmmmmm...

contemplating on a lost friendship

Asthma cripples me. It’s this silent enemy that sneaks up on me in the primary form of a nasty cold. Then it morphs into this mid-sized monster that sucks the air out of my lungs.

When I first got acquainted with it, it didn’t hide its ugly face from me. Head on, it attacked me, showing no mercy, leaving no space in my lungs for air to circulate in. But as years went by, it began to show pity on me; and for a number of years and attacks, it became considerate enough—warning me when it wants to impose its power on my frail body. That way, I came to know how to equip myself and prepare for its subtle attacks. Simple tools like a hot cup of water mixed with Vicks vaporub are enough to alleviate its fury. For years, we coexisted peacefully.

Now I don’t know what happened, or what I did, to make that harmonious coexistence disappear into thin air. When it visited me a couple of months ago, it appeared to no longer recognize me as a friend. It showed no mercy. And this time around, it acted the same way—sinking its fangs into my heaving chest, leaving me sleepless as I gasp for air.

***

I’m not really afraid of dying. What I’m afraid of is the manner of my demise. I don’t want to meet my death in the sea/ocean, drowning. If I’m going to die, I want it to be quick—I want death to just glance at me and be done with its job. I don’t want it to stare at me and smile as it takes my last breath away. Having asthma is just like that—like drowning in the middle of a vast sea. You slowly descend into the sea floor while you’re still slightly conscious—still able to take in the eerily silent view of slowly swimming fishes and seaweeds dancing to the tune of your slow death. That’s why I pray that if I were to die, let it not be by the sea or by asthma.

***

I have yet to figure out how it all came to be like this again. What have I done? What have I not done?

Francis told me that it’s most likely because of work-related stress. That, I do not deny. Work has been fatal lately. I wasn’t surprised at all when Francis advised me to resign if I think I need to. That decision has yet to be seen, though I’m afraid I’ve already been considering that option lately. And such realization breaks my heart. I just hope that I would not have to act on that decision, and instead consider other options that would not lead me away from the printed word.

For now, I excuse myself from such thoughts. For now, I have to figure out how to appease this silent enemy of mine, so that by the next time it pays me a visit, we can just both sit down to a cup of hot chocolate and be re-acquainted like old friends.

so many, many things

There's a lot of things going on in my head right now--a lot of things I want to write about. But I'm in no mood to go into details about these things.

This is stress taking over. Aaaaarrghssh!

Anyway, seems like I have a lot of catching up to do in terms of hoarding the blogosphere, like:

1. pictures from Bubbles' shower party....
2. ...and ultimately, her wedding photos
3. updates on the preparation for the Big day (this will be a short entry, as there' not much to write yet)
4. another Baguio trip due this Feb, with office pals and I'm crossing my fingers, with my fiancé (who, btw, is currently in Bora for an assignment--this time, it's a real OB; he has another assignment there that would fall on the Baguio trip. Bleh!).
5. things getting crazier by the minute at work, which led me to consider outside options, which in turn gives me heartaches
6. puppy updates, and that a few weeks from now, they'll all be given away. I miss them already.
7. a lot more that I can't remember

So because I don't seem to be making any sense, I deem that I not pursue writing about these things in detail. I need a visit from the muse.

P.S.
I'm thinking plum and champagne and lime. Hmmm...