For a couple of nights last week, my sister, her husband and I felt the old wanderlust. But since we have neither the time nor the budget for a last-minute getaway, we resorted to driving aimlessly around the city for a couple of hours at a time. On our second night, I blurted out that while we just had dinner, I was feeling hungry again (unusual, right?). Apparently, they were feeling the same way, so we started looking at options.
I love coffee. Words can’t even express how infatuated I am with it. I can’t get through the day without at least 4 cups of it. In a mug or a cup, steaming or cold, black or creamed, I’ll take it morning, noon and night. I think I should form a new religion that praises the stuff.
Our trip to Ilocos was a bit of a spur-of-the-moment decision. It started out as a wouldn’t-it-be-nice thought, which suddenly got serious when we set a date that was only about a couple of weeks away. Because of the limited time we had, we kind of rushed our search for a place to stay too. We needed lodging that would fit our budget but didn’t look like Hostel was shot there, and that’s how we stumbled upon Grandpa’s Inn.
If you’ve been following my food exploits (*cough* shameless plug *cough*), you’ll know that as much as I love food, I don’t have the voracious appetite required of a true blue foodie. So on the morning of my unplanned trip to Burp, I was actually considering just grabbing a late lunch of instant noodles because I made the mistake of assuming I could handle a breakfast of two big, fat pancakes.
(Getaway soundtrack: “Wag Kang Matakot” by Eraserheads)
Don’t worry, I’m using the literary reference in the title very loosely here, so no bleak Dickensian account of the parallels between London and Paris during the French Revolution. Mine’s going to be a positive account of my trip to Ilocos early this year in two of the province’s most famous cities.
Before you start humming the opening notes to “Careless Whisper”, let me be clear that’s not the mood I’m talking about. I’ve recently taken to watching films by Hong Kong director Wong Kar-wai and I have to say, I’m kicking myself in the head right now, wondering what took me so long to finally begin exploring his collection. I haven’t seen them all yet, but what I’ve seen so far, I’m extremely pleased by, and at the top of the list would be “In the Mood For Love” a story of unrequited love in 1960s Hong Kong.
I had an opportunity to eat at 2nd’s recently during a work-related event. I have to admit, I’d never heard of the place before so I didn’t know what to look forward to. I didn’t even know what the place looked like from the outside; my co-worker and I actually missed it on the first try.
I know what you’re thinking: she just posted a few minutes ago and she’s at it again? I told you I’m very good at prattling.
I just wanted to apologize for my somber tone earlier. I guess in my attempt to convince you and myself that I’m taking this round seriously, I unknowingly morphed into someone from a Wes Anderson movie. Don’t worry, beneath this seemingly humorless shell beats the heart of an actual human being.
And it may not look like it now, but I can be funny too. You’ll see. (I hope that didn’t come off as a threat.)
And now that I’ve groveled my way back into your good graces, I’ll try not to let you down. So here we go again.
I’ve started blogs before. I created accounts, filled them with things that I thought would hook others, and tried in vain to keep them updated only to find myself giving up after only a few months.
This time, things will be different. I’m going to try harder to keep this one alive. I’m going to fill it with things that don’t just pique your interest but mine too.
And I’m going to drill these words into my head until they stick.
This, my nth attempt at an online diary, will be my foray into everything: food, trips, books, movies, you name it. I must warn you, though, that I tend to prattle, so I hope you bear with me.
If you’re ready, here we go.