elsewhere.

see, when i got approved, i immediately told my sisters that i got the visa.. after a couple of hours of being a nervous wreck..

i recalled walking thru the gates of the us embassy wednesday early morning and almost wishing that i never had to go to their country; as a person(lol), i'm not one who lives on travel or who gets most excited when there's opportunity to travel, yes, partly i am excited, but, honestly, i am scared of new places and scared of the fact that travelling can be mahal or magastos.. plus, the embassy people seemed sooo stiff and scarey..

my hands/palms were shaking and wet when i had been finger printed..

then i wuz asked 4 or 5 questions by this BEAUTIFUL consul:

1. why are you going to the united states?

2. what is your job?

3. how long have you worked for that company?

4. do you have relatives in the united states?

then she said, your visa is approved go to the main pavillion and ask about delivery..

surreal. dizzying.

i ate the most breakfast when i got back to the hotel. promise.

my sisters' reactions:

dich: achee, i am proud of you(i thunk for getting the job:)

shobe: wag sana magsurface ang pagkaignoramus, at si donita rose lang ang naging highlight of your whole trip there.

twenks. i saw donita rose on the lift of the hotel and told shobe. :0

--

i never realized that domestic violence can be real too. (sooo many things are happening) at times when you see bruises, you are still compelled to touch them even if you know they will surely hurt. i just hope that those bruises were not mine. :( haaaayers..

--

Elsewhere - Gabrielle Zevin
There will be other lives.
There will be other lives for nervous boys with sweaty palms, for bittersweet fumblings in the backseats of cars, for caps and gowns in royal blue and crimson, for mothers clasping pretty pearl necklaces around daughters' unlined necks, for your full name read aloud in an auditorium, for brand-new suitcases transporting you to strange new people in strange new lands.
And there will be other lives for unpaid debts, for one-night stands, for Prague and Paris, for painful shoes with pointy toes, for indecision and revisions.
And there will be other lives for fathers walking daughters down aisles.
And there will be other lives for sweet babies with skin like milk.
And there will be other lives for a man you don't recognize, for a face in a mirror that is no longer yours, for the funerals of intimates, for shrinking, for teeth that fall out, for hair on your chin, for forgetting everything. Everything.
Oh, there are so many lives. How we wish we could live them concurrently instead of one by one by one. We could select the best pieces of each, stringing them together like a strand of pearls. But that's not how it works. A human's life is a beautiful mess.