I fell in love with her writing the very first time I read her column in Sun.Star Daily.  

I lost her when I left.

Then I found her again in the wonderful world that is Multiply.  I lurked around her site, too shy to invite her to be my contact.  She was someone I admired very much, someone I aspired to become.  A very talented writer, a lover of many things -- dusk, books, poetry, the deep, cats, yoga -- she never wrote a mean word about anyone in her blog.  When she wrote, it was always about the stillness or grace of things.  But always there was that sadness that descended upon her again and again.

Ana, I thought there was always time to meet you, to get to know you, to be in the presence of such a beautiful spirit.  The few personal messages that we exchanged are forever etched in my heart.  You were always so kind to me, so gracious.  You have touched so many hearts and lives just by being who you are.  

I do not know you, and yet I love you.  By your leaving, you have left such a deep void in my heart.  

May your soul be at peace, at last. 

I have to-do, to-buy, and to-bring lists.

And to-see and where-to-eat lists.

I am literally counting days!

Justice is alive and well.

Hopefully, she uses this time to ponder on the merits of wearing underwear and why she must make sure she has in her custody the one and only copy of her future sex videos (so she gets all the profits, of course!).

Oh Paris, what I would kill to have your money!  And you don't look too bad, either.  If you had some good sense in you, you'd be perfect.  But then again, you're probably thinking, Who wants to be perfect?  I just want to have fun!

Against my better judgment, I am actually expecting to see a more subdued and more sensible Paris 22 days from now.

Take for example the matter of getting contact lenses.  Here, I had to go through a contact lens fitting that cost me $75 under our insurance coverage.  Now that the husband has moved to another job -- and we are under a different coverage -- I have to go through the whole process again and pay $95, even though I told them I am still fine with my old contact lens prescription and I just need a few boxes because my supply is running out.  No can do.

Back home, the so-called contact lens fitting, which simply means having you try out different kinds of contact lenses until you find a brand that's comfortable for you, would have been free of charge (back then, anyways) and getting a box of contact lenses would have been as easy as pie.  Sigh.  I miss De Los Reyes Optical.  Hahaha!

Anyhoo, I've found a way to circumvent the whole process.  I can just get my contact lenses online and I won't have to pay that darn $95 fee!  Online shopping is the bomb, don't cha think?     

T and N live just around the corner from us (N is the husband's college classmate).  They're both nurses and there are two nights in a week when their schedules overlap for an hour.  They have three kids. N's mom had been staying with them for nine months and it was time she went back to the Philippines.  T said maybe it's okay to leave the kids alone for that one-hour window, anyway, they are almost always asleep by then.  I was horrified;  I told her a lot of things can happen in an hour.  I offered to sit in, just to oversee things, before her husband comes home.  Up until tonight, they've tried to work their schedules out.  Tonight, they were in a tight spot.  The one thing that wasn't in the contract was the possibility that one of the kids might be awake.  Hadn't the mom assured me all three would be asleep and I only had to watch for, maybe, sleepwalkers in the lot?  But yes, the youngest was wide awake and the mom turned her over to me as she gathered up her things for work.   

Need I say it again?  I was mortified.  What was I to do with a wide-awake one-year-old baby girl?  

Turns out it was easier than I'd imagined.  She is a well-behaved little girl, who stayed glued to the Leap Frog DVD her mom played just before she hopped on her SUV.  I had her in my lap as she gurgled out cute baby sounds.  I was waiting for her to cry, or look for her mom, but she happily stayed in place, shouting out "Eeeeeeees" in between chewing on my wristlet.

When her dad arrived an hour later, I almost didn't want to relinquish her to him. 

She's such a sweet little angel and I can't wait to baby-sit her again.     

It's great to be home again.

I've been away for two nights, giving in to a request by B and her aunt, B (let's call her B2 to avoid confusion), who I've become really close friends with during her visit here.  B2 was set to leave for home and so it was deemed necessary that I spend the night to say our goodbyes.  Apparently, B1's 4am vigil at the balcony was a one-shot deal and that left me and B2 to really spend hours gabbing as she packed 3 boxes to full capacity.  We slept at 5am, waiting for word from the airline whether she'll be able to board a flight that night.  Unfortunately, her flight was not confirmed but we headed to San Francisco anyway so she could drop off two boxes for cargo, a privilege extended to airline employees like her (but not without the usual fees for excess).  I was supposed to go home that night, after that short trip to San Francisco and a satisfying meal at Jollibee, but one thing led to another and I found myself sleeping over again.  Her flight had been confirmed for the next night, and so extended goodbyes were in order.  She entrusted her niece to me, saying I am the only person who can help B1 navigate the world of maturity and adulthood, a task I hardly think I would like to take on simply because I'd turn into a nag if I did.  And yeah, we were able to discuss all this because B1, again, left us to our own devices as she bid us a sleepy good night 5 minutes after we arrived at their place.  

This morning, I made a hasty and early exit with the husband while they were all sleeping.  I missed home and the husband too much.  I figured if B2 would really make it tonight (unfortunately, she didn't...  the flight for Manila was overbooked), I could say my last goodbyes by phone.  The husband and I had breakfast at IHOP with the cheery waiter, Alejandro, brightening up our morning even more.  When we got home, I breathed a big sigh of relief, changed into my sleep clothes, and dove into our comfy bed.  

Home sweet home.    

There are five of us -- B, J, G, T and I.  Three of them have kids, and two of us, being so young at our marriages, are yet to have children.  So it is no surprise then that B and I would be drawn together.  Well actually, it is a big surprise.  She is 25, brash and a bit childish, and does not have a lot of interest in books and movies and blogging.  I would never have thought we'd be sharing thoughts on anything from marriage to friendship and swapping childhood stories in their apartment balcony at 4 in the morning.  I never expected we'd share moisturizers and lipstick or that I'd be wearing her pajamas when I went over to spend the night at their apartment (my first and only night away from the husband to date).  Granted, most women love to shop, but finding that we actually love to shop together so much so that both our husbands cringe every time we announce that we are going out because they know we are bound to come home with something, is an unexpected gift.  She tells me not to buy a pair of jeans because my butt looks "gi-normous" in them, and I tell her off when I think her eyebrows are not "put on right."  And it was a big step for me that I was able to tell her just recently that she was a major pain in the ass when she first arrived here a year ago.  

She admits that she still has a lot of growing up to do.  What she doesn't know is, she reminds me a little of myself when I was her age, but at the same time, she lets me see the grown-up that I've become.

I was already here from Season 3 to present.  I didn't vote during the Diana De Garmo/Fantasia Barrino face-off because I didn't care which one won.  I didn't love or hate either of them enough to spend time, money and energy to vote.  For Season 4, I loved Carrie Underwood and Bo Bice equally, so I felt I should be fair and not cast my vote.  With the Soul Patrol fever catching the nation, I knew Katherine McPhee didn't stand a chance against Taylor Hicks in Season 5.  Besides, I wanted anyone to win, anyone except Taylor Hicks.  That was hardly a great reason to vote for Katherine, although I still think she's gorgeous and that she'd sell more albums than Taylor ever would.

Tonight, I was ready to do a Carrie/Bo neutral stance.  But Jordin's voice, her dazzling smile, and her young and vibrant presence on stage had me make a mad scramble for my cellphone to vote for her.  I find her to be such a beautiful young woman, so much so that when I ran across a blog that described her size as "gigantic," I felt a vein throb in anger.

I was gonna go meet with a couple of friends tonight, but I'm glad I stayed in and watched the finals.  I am ready to applaud when they announce Jordin Sparks as the new American Idol tomorrow night.  And if not, well, those two votes are still well worth it.    

We lived with my tita and her family for 4 months when we first got here, so the husband and I inherited all their friends and relatives in that part of California.  When we go there for a visit or for a gathering, we are always met with a cacophony of greetings and lots of hugging.  By now we've gotten used to their unique brand of humor, their way of conversing which is, to say the least, almost like being in a fish market.  There's lots of shouting.  If you close your eyes, you'd think that these people are sitting far across each other.  Everyone wants to say something; everyone wants to be heard.  And without meaning to, I join the fray.  I actually lost my voice after one of these gatherings last weekend.

At least I got to meet a "sano" of mine, Luke Mejares, formerly of the South Border band.  He's here with his wife Inger and daughter Akisha. They're both down-to-earth people, very laid-back, no airs at all.  Not that anyone ever has the right to have airs.  But if not for the fact that he was bringing with him a box of his newly launched CD, one would never think he's anything but a regular Bol-anon.  Oh, except for those beautiful brown eyes.  He was very gracious, indulging every request for a song or for pictures.  He almost didn't take the $10 I handed over for a copy of his CD, but I insisted.  And then he jokingly said, "Pangpalit ug gatas."  He will soon be a new daddy to baby boy Jamal.

When we left, the party was still in full swing.  Two weeks from now, when my voice shall have recovered, we go mingle again with my fellow Bol-anons for another gathering of food, fun, conversation and perhaps, a viewing of Wowowee.