Baguio or Bust

I was having my depression attacks again when I decided to do two things: remove my Bank of Hawaii, Standard Chartered, Equitable Mastercard, and HSBC credit cards from my wallet and lock it in my drawer in the office. With more than 25 grand on my credit card bills, I decided this depression attack could not afford another perfume, pair of shoes, messenger bag, PDA, mobile phone, or furniture. Upon hearing the click of my office drawer's lock fusing each other, I gave Nolet a ring. I needed the next best thing to a depression splurge: a nonchalant food trip mixed with bottles of red and decanters of margaritas. Ten minutes later, a dinner date was scheduled for the next day. After all, it was already late notice to even meet up with me right away. I decided I can put a lid on the depression thingee for one more night.

We all met—Nolet, Carissa, her boyfriend Edwin, and me—at the promenade/fountain area of Greenbelt 3, and decided that we were going to drink that night. Since Nolet and I haven’t had dinner yet, we went walking around the strip of restaurants to find a good place to eat. Since My Little Kitchen was the only restaurant with an available table to seat the four of us, we went in…only to get disappointed an hour later because of the bad food and terrible wine. At least the company was excellent.

Nolet finally told us about her now defunct relationship with He-who-mustn’t-be-named; how they finally talked—in that same café where she had her "presscon" to the rest of the gang about their being "officially a couple"—after a prolonged awkwardness and quasi-animosity between the two of them; how it feels weird being friends again with her ex. It was a fun talk, or at the very least…OUR talk that night.

At past 11, we left MYLK and decided to invade (or shall I say "unite with"?) the chaos of Greenbelt Two. We got lucky and found a table at Cena, and got cozy right outside the resto. While basking in the refreshing breeze of the fan-cum-water-spritzer, we couldn't help but think: "Where the hell is this water in the spritzer coming from? Is this even distilled or filtered??? And to think our drinks are all vulnerable to those germs that this spritzer may be likely to emit!!!" Ten minutes later, Milo the Waiter brought us four glasses and a tall decanter of Mango Something (I forgot what the concoction was) Margarita. After we finished it in record breaking speed, we ordered another decanter of margarita, this time the Dalandan flavored one.

[There! Mango Mandarin!!!!! Yum. I am now officially a poster boy of Cena's Margarita liters.]

Upon gazing upstairs, I came to see a couple of friends who seemed to be having their own decanters and bottles and glasses to drink...so I thought I'd drop by and say hi. Barely ten minutes later, upon coming back to our table, I was just told that--by unanimous vote--we were driving to Baguio first thing the next morning. I agreed right away. Fuck that depression spell...I am having fun with my good friends...and away from the city that's giving me all this bleakness.

As if I wasn't exhausted yet from all the drinking, I bid them goodbye--with the agreement to meet at Jollibee Muñoz at 8 the next morning--and went home...to change and go clubbing with my best friend Pat. Went dancing and drinking some more, and then went home at quarter past four. Since I've already packed my bag the night before I left for the club, I decided I could take a nap first before showering around 6am, to them proceed to our meeting place.

The dratted Nokia alarm went off perhaps one million times but I was only able to wake up at quarter of seven!!! I almost decided on not showering but upon smelling the fricking cigarette smoke in my hair, I instantly jumped in the shower. One jeepney, MRT and bus ride later (the walk from the MRT station to the next bus stop took about one hundred years, thanks to the maze-like pink bus stations of MMDA), I found myself staring at my take-out food from Jollibee. Hurray for double burger pates with tomatoes, lettuce and cheese, lava-hot hot chocolate drink, and un-soggy fries.

With Edwin driving and Carissa in the passenger seat, Nolet and I got cozy at the back seat. My evil plan to sleep on them the whole journey to Baguio was thwarted by their beating me to it...and my two phones constantly beeping or ringing. Argh. To make matters worse, my portable DVD player with LCD just wouldn't read any fucking CD! So I just tranquilized myself with Carissa's theme- and concept-less CDs playing in the CD changer (hehehe). I eventually got tired (whether of the Johny Mathis/Elvis Presley/Paul Anka songs or of the boring sceneries, I couldn't tell!), and fell asleep. I woke up at Pangasinan a couple of hours later, badly needing to pee. Thankfully, Edwin and Carissa had a stop-over somewhere near, so I was able to use the commode. Yeah, yeah. I am not one of those men who could just stick out his weiner and pee anywhere. And, no, I am not being conservative; I am being more of a superstitious provincial folk who's scared of offending the unseen forces of nature by accidentally peeing on their territories, and having my manhood enchanted and magically turned into something huge. WAIT A MINUTE!!! On second thought, with that premise, I think I should start peeing all over the place!!! Hmmmm.... ;)

Almost two more hours later, we caught a glimpse of the gigantic lion's head. Aaah...Baguio at last. We didn't bother getting off and getting touristy by taking photos. We were too damned starved to even do anything but imagine the taste of freshly cooked food touching our mouths.

Soonest we arrived at the city proper, we drove to Burnham Park and found ourselves pointing at countless things to be barbecued: tilapia, eggplants, and pork ribs, together with a mango and fish paste salad. Yum.

Needed to pee. Thank God for clean public toilets...or at least that's what the humongous signages claimed to be. When I reached the door, I was stopped by a local not-too-old lady and asked me in her booming voice--which I hardly understood the first time she said it--"Ihi lang o tae?" That did it for me. I almost burst out laughing and peeing on myself once those words were out of her mouth. Apparently, it's two pesos and fifty centavos more expensive to do number two. Just for the heck of it, I said "tae po" in a similarly rambunctious voice, and proceeded inside...with approximately eight sheets of single-ply toilet paper in my hand. I think I may have sprayed pee on the floor because I still couldn't stop giggling like a hyena...and the huge posters/signages inside proclaiming "Ihi lang: P2.50; Tae:P5" did not help alleviating the laughing fit either.

After almost an hour of driving and wedging through traffic, and being told by two or three hotels that they were fully booked (or that their prices were too much for our budget, like The Manor!), we ended up in a modest inn called Citylight. After I swiped my card, we were able to secure two twin sharing rooms. Don't even get me started on the debate that ensued on who shares the room with who...because I might get someone (heck, both of them) in trouble. Hehehehehe...

We slept for a good hour or two, and then Nolet and I hit the SM mall to climb its balcony that overlooks the whole of Baguio City. It was slightly drizzling, so the already cold weather turned even more chilly. Thank God I had the presence of mind to bring my jacket!

Another hour later, with a new boxer brief (which, I must add, was sexy...hehehe) in tow, Nolet and I walked back to the hotel...but not without passing by (which is, by the way, SO out of the way going towards the hotel!) Mc Donald's to get ice-cream. How's that for "redundant"...cold weather and ice-cream?!

An hour after we got home, we found Loony waiting for us in our hotel. Apparently, she just missed the last bus going home to Ilocos at Dagupan, and Baguio was the next best idea. We all dressed up and then hit the road to go have dinner at Camp John Hay. Since it was pretty late when we got to the camp, we only had two choices: a quaint diner called Everything Nice, and a small booth of Brothers Burger. We went for the former...and had a blast with their tea, which all needed at least 95 degrees of quite-boiling water to taste wonderful.

After a couple more pictures and laughters and walks inside the camp, we decided 'twas time for a drink. We went to this place, which was supposedly "the happening place" according to my friends Alvin and JP, who I SMS'd earlier to ask which place we should hang out in, the Nevada Square. The most interesting bar we saw, i.e. with the rowdiest crowd, the friendliest-looking pack, and the hippest music, was called Fridays...so we settled in one of the tables right outside it, and started drinking away. Three or four bottles of beer and a pitcher of Mindoro Slide later, Carissa and I (and later on, Nolet, too) went inside to dance. After all, Pussycat Dolls' "Dont'cha" was playing incessantly and everybody and their mothers were dancing like there was no tomorrow.

Inside, the devil in me started squirming out of my persona. I instantly scanned the place for a ledge or something like it. There was no fucking ledge!!! I pulled two chairs together, stood up by the big speakers, and then started dancing madly on my makeshift ledge. Five minutes later, the strobe lights were stopping and focusing on me...and the other people that made their way to my makeshift ledge. There was one lady named Nicole, a cross-dresser with no name, and a boy named Arman (haha!). With Carissa and Nolet just below me dancing like crazy, too, we literally stole the attention from everyone...including the bar manager's. He gave me his card, with a promise that the next time we are back in Baguio, he'll reserve a table inside for us...and that hopefully, by the time we get back, he'll have a real ledge and pole for me to dance on. HAHAHA. There goes my next career!

Went home at past three...only to leave the hotel again to meet up with someone. Let's just say that I had to spend the night at their place and didn't come back to my friends until 9 in the moring, when they almost sent a search party for me. Yes, Nolet, thanks for the advice of wearing my new underwear to the post-clubbing date. ;)

The next morning was a blur. But the highlight of that next day was the lunch buffet at O Mai Khan where our stomachs almost literally burst (thanks, too, to the fresh strawberry shakes!!!). Whose stomach wouldn't, what with at least three helpings of Mongolian!!! The funniest part of the day, however, was when Loony gave me a hard look (as we were walking to the car) and blurted out nonchalantly, "Ben, you have a really nice body...but you don't have an ass!" I almost slapped her. WTF?!! That was what I got for telling her that her old Nokia 6210 was an ugly-ass phone. Now THAT was what I call sweet revenge...she hit me where it really hurts. HAHAHAHA.

Since we were really exhausted, we decided to go to Burnham Park...TO SLEEP in the car. While Nolet was busy shopping at the flea market, Carissa, Edwin and I were "busy" sleeping in the car. Loony already left to catch her bus back to Ilocos.

When we woke up, we went back with Nolet to do our shopping at the flea market. They bought loads of fresh veggies, to my dismay ('cuz I couldn't really cook in my condo, as we do not have a working exhaust fan). So I just contented myself with the fresh fruits, cheap cashmere-like fabrics and comforters, and with the dozen white Calla Lilies that I got...for TEN fucking pesos!!!

Went to The Mansion next. Took touristy photos. Then moved to Mines View. More touristy photos. And then decided that we'll just pass the traffic by staying a wee bit longer in Baguio. Went to SM again and had dinner at Gerry's Grill where we, as expected, binged yet again. After a series of burps, we hit the road and bid Baguio goodbye.

Slept pretty much during the journey going down to the city that gave me the depression spell not more than five days ago...but this time, feeling more recharged, more happy, and feeling more blessed that I've had a great time with great friends.

Pagudpod or Panglao, anyone?