01.01.10

People would die to be where I was, I was certain of that.

I could have had an a news team set up a camera and they'd be able to capture good angles at almost all the time.

I could have made it a tourist spot, requiring an entrance fee to the area because I know if people knew this place, they'd all envy me. Plus it's going to be worth their money.

It was like the highest peak in the Himalayas of houses. Up there is an opportunity of a 360-view of all Metro Manila fireworks, leaving me openmouthed for what seemed to be ages. I couldn't believe my eyes, small as they are. My head had a good exercise rotating for one whole hour as one firework after another teased me to look their way to show what they've got as if one is a totally unique sight from the rest. An assortment of lights and booms presented themselves before my eyes and ears, dissipating as another set came and this went on and on and on. At some point, just when I thought I could look away to give momentary solace to my senses, one display would catch my attention and then I'm back to viewing again.

As one firework came after another, awe after awe, my mind was naturally trance-bound. But somehow, my brain managed to rummage an idea about how fireworks work. Why do fireworks shoot up as high as they do and plummet into mere sparkle, leaving the world lit for a matter of seconds, oh so fleeting seconds. And why do we even indulge!

My auntie's place is a 5-storey petite house in Pateros. But if you don't count the supposed basement garage, the rooftop where they hang clothes to dry and the highest level where the water tank is, it's really just a humble two-storey. I've been staying here since I started my Makati work this year. It's a one FX-ride or 80-peso taxi fare. It's easily accessed from anywhere but it's a bit hard to describe where it is, really.

They say it's hard to be at two places at the same time. I say, try four.

OK. Technically, it's Pateros. But cross the immediate road and you're in Pasig. Cross the nearby C5 and you're in Makati. Go left and you're at The Fort Taguig. Turn around and you're back in Pateros. The latter, being the only non-city amongst the 17 of Metro Manila boasts of that privilege. But please don't start flocking here because it's only a 2.10-square km teensy town (according to Wiki). But I guess, with all the sparkles that just transpired here tonight, it's its own Tinseltown.

I was lucky and unlucky tonight. Lucky, for all the foregoing reasons. Unlucky, for I lacked a much needed good camera to prove to you that all the foregoing reasons are true. Darn it!

Hopscotching holidays

This is my first Christmas in two years!

If you're wondering where I was the last two Christmases, I myself am wondering how I handled skipping it. Twice.

Well, I was hiding in the newsroom. Not that it's a game one likes to play but I had to work during the busier holidays. And the latter phrase makes me sound like a physician on call.

Yes we were always on call and my schedule back in ABS-CBN was Saturday to Wednesday, and though Christmas almost always falls on a Thursday or a Friday which are my off-days, I wouldn't enjoy Christmas eve or day fresh out of work or with a work-laden mind. Would you?

Though they weren't normal Christmases, I was excited just the same. A notch higher actually because of the possibility of getting seen on TV when the producers decide to set up a camera in the newsroom and allow us make stupid of ourselves by waving at the camera for reasons heaven knows what. And much to our disappointment and embarrassment for hoping such foolishness, no camera setup came.

And then arrived the New Years during which time it's confirmed we'll be seen on TV. By whom? By all people who are too busy watching fireworks displays to be watching TV at that time! I even had to make calls to friends and family to tell them I'm wearing so and so color so they can spot me amongst the news crew and staff frantically amused at this fleeting moment of assumed popularity as if their faces will be etched on the screen for everyone to remember. Sigh.

Just the same, it was a consolation. If, on Christmas eve, we'd be crying silently in the restroom or our cubicles for missing the Christmas dinner at home, we're ecstatic on New Year's eve. It was a prize for working on a holiday. But I guess it's really not true the belief that whatever you do on the first day you'll be doing the rest of the year. We were on TV for fragments of seconds on January 1 but never again thereafter. (Well, except as a blurry background of ANC's newscast.)

Like some game of fate, my parents and two of my sisters are abroad, which leaves me and my Ate Joan and Ate Weng (who is married, by the way, and stays in her Antipolo house with husband Clint) putting up the holiday tree and spreading the holiday feast on the mahogany table, just when I am ready to have my first Christmas again.

Thank God there's Christmas every year.

Happy Holidays everyone!