31 (what happened after the blues attack)

It has been a hell of a weekend. 

But I meant that in a sparsely Waldo-There-You-Are kind of way.

After whining about the blues that was creeping into my system brought by the annual dread of existentialism (read the last blog), I was treated to a good birthday night (or early morn – tardiness it seems is a way of life in the Philippines) by a few friends and my bandmates. Prepared my signature spicy Italian tuna spag while Em (our bassist) gladly assisted with the preparation. I forgave her for spoiling 1 kilo of expensive pasta, but she made up for it by taking care of the steamed potatoes with mustard (which I ate for lunch today. the fridge is a wonderful invention.) She got me a cake too!

Though I am trying to be as sober as I can, how can I resist the mini Hip Flask bought by my bro Khalid and his sweet GF Valerie as a birthday gift. Unexpectedly nice, and that's from someone who doesn't appreciate surprises. 
Now, where did I put my vodka?

There were lots of food to go around, and a Black Label was given the royal treatment as the main course of the party. But the pleasantries of the loud evening did not end there.

Speaking of surprises, My better half has been keeping hers all wrapped up and somehow failing because of my paranoid streak. She knows better to keep secrets, but she managed to somehow control my urge to let her spill (I tried my best to no avail).

But oh boy, was she forgiven. That’s all I can say.

let me present to you: Mr.Smith

Finally, the Memoryhouse record (that a good friend from NYC has given me as a gift) has finally resonated against the four walls of my dusty wooden apartment.

With a hip flask, slim fit jeans and now, a record player, I’m on my way to becoming the first bellied Arab hipster in this side of town. Don't laugh.

P.S.

To decapitate the mood, Zestair conspired with MMDA to let us miss our flight to Bicol the next day. Life is a wheel huh? And didn't I just mention that tardiness is...nevermind.

 

Well, it did cost a few tears and we were 5 thousand pesos poorer, but the drive to be home was stronger. 15 hours later, we found ourselves in the quiet breathing of Old Albay.

 

Happy to announce that the meet-the-parents/children ordeal was a happy and momentous one.

 

31 years old and feeling like a blushing child for these great blessings.