Birthday Blues

It was my Grandmother's birthday party yesterday, though she actually turns 97 on the 28th. This isn't about her being sad. In fact, she seemed very happy with all the people who love her surrounding her in the very small and dingy 80-person capacity dining area in Saisaki West Ave. This is about my blues on her birthday.

The party was ok. The food was the same -- angus and ebi. The crowd was the same.

We were spending the night at this 2-star hotel along Mabini because the clan house was jam-packed. My father, from whom I inherited my anti-family politix, wanted to go meet his friend, the owner of Calle 5. He kept in animated discussion with his Fukienese friends amidst the live band performing songs very popular to the 2-star crowd. There was one point where the crowds were slow dancing to "Tell Him" by Barbra Streisand and Celine Dion. W' the fcuk ....

Thank god Gus (my new friend who likes elephants) was awake to text some sense with me. Everyone else I know's asleep on a Saturday night. At 1:30am, my Dad tells me we're leaving after he finishes the free bottle of Viva Mineral Water. We left at 3am. Indeed, the water bottle was very empty by that time.

I was running dry myself. I walked like I was running away from him.

I didn't sleep on the extra bed they ordered for me. I sat on the grand piano chair in the minuscule lobby , thinking what a beautiful drama movie scene that would've made; thinking how I felt apathetic about it all.

I rode the cab home. I felt they needed the extra leg room as I needed mine.