The restless in gentle ground

Immediately after Christmas Day, the sisters and I traveled all the way to Dumaguete to have a much-awaited catch-up with our dad, who was assigned there for his job since mid-2013. Roaming around the little city was also on the agenda as we first timers wanted to discover what this new, uncharted land had to offer.

As it turns out, Dumaguete was the perfect place to unwind and chill, especially after spending half the day at sea then on the road, getting there via ferry and bus. On this mini-vacation, we lost track of time as we mostly lounged at our dad's place, playing endless rounds of tong-its and pusoy dos, channel-surfing through reality television shows, or updating our social media networks through the tiny screens of our cellphones.

Home for the holidays

There's definitely no place like home, especially during the holidays! A rundown:


We met up with our "longest" friends in a quaint cafe in the metro to do our annual exchange of Christmas gifts and I'm so glad Virgie loved the mix-and-match combo (a black tank top she—knowing her—would wear a sweater over, a purple blouse which somehow resembled rose petals, and an adorable floral skirt I wish I owned and didn't include in the package) I gifted her as much as I enjoyed shopping for them earlier that month. It came with an unsolicited piece of best-friendly-bordering-motherly advice, "Dalaga ka na, dapat dalaga ka naman mamayo." Best Secret Santa award, yes?

Like clockwork

Just when I thought that the busyness was over...well, it was just getting started. My overwhelming but bearable October, November, and December in Malacañang was filled with days out of the office, overtimes, and weekend work. Thankful for what has been the gift of grace under pressure.

Together

"Together or apart, no matter how far apart, we live in one another. We go on together."
I'm genuinely glad I still get to see my best girls in spite of the crazy lives we're living.

Retracing a dear old timer

When they told me we were headed to Nueva Vizcaya, I caught a glimpse of my seventeen-year-old lovestruck self in a momentary flutter, giddily snickering in the background. It was about time I got to see the place for myself after years of utmost curiosity and now-long-gone connection. But the prospect of enduring yet another road trip under the long-haul category (at least eight hours) snapped me back to reality and easily washed away the tinge of excitement. In truth, the wake up call was needed.