Goddess, I Am.

I haven’t been blogging. Mainly because I haven’t quite gotten over Europe. Paris, especially. All I’ve done since I’ve been back is pine for the city and its people and its language. And the worst part? I can’t even bring myself to write about the whole experience. I’ve tried, of course, but all I’ve come up with so far are over-excited ramblings that barely even make sense to me, much less to everyone else. And it doesn’t help that every time I remember, I just find myself hurting because I’M NOT FUCKING THERE ANYMORE!!!

I’ve been home for over 2 months now; I knew I really needed to get my shit back together. And that’s exactly what I’ve been trying to do. So far, I’ve been reconnecting with old friends and making a handful of new ones, spending more time with my family, and, most importantly, working on my marriage. I’ve been making plans, changing them, and making new and better ones.

But of course, the best way to get over one pleasure is to plunge – head on – into another. And so it was that The Husband and I found ourselves back in Boracay nearly 3 years after our honeymoon. I spent 3 days getting a (tanning spray-less) tan, eating chocolate eclairs, and swimming like there’s no tomorrow because, in a way, it’s true. Certain plans are falling into place, and I may never have the opportunity to go back to the island that has done so much for me over the past 5 years. And you know what? I’m perfectly okay with that.

But I digress.

I still pine for Paris, and I suspect I always will. But every day that I’m here, surrounded by love and all things comfortable and familiar, makes it just a wee bit easier than the day before. Besides, I know without a doubt that I’ll be back one day, hopefully soon. And I’m perfectly okay with that, too.

For more Paris photos, click HERE.

For my Boracay travel diary, click HERE.

I wasn’t going to write anything about that 20 Reasons Why I Dislike The Philippines video, but with people on Facebook having heated fights about it, I figured what the hell.

First, let me just say the guy had a point. In fact, he had about 20. I, myself, wholeheartedly agree with every single one of them. That is not to say that I like the video and its host. The guy was one arrogant son-of-a-bitch, and I found him terribly offensive and annoying. Never mind that he was a bit cute (or so my friend, Ed, says – LOL).

Anyway.

I suppose the main reason for the outrage is not so much as the issues he spoke of, but more of him and his white trailer-trash, douche-y delivery. (This is not, after all, an advert for Hitchdepotusa trailer hitches.) If the whole production’s goal was to raise awareness, then they failed miserably the moment they put this Jimmy character with all his bravado and foul language in front of the camera. That, and when they left out the fact that Filipinos spit everywhere. Spitting should’ve made the list, instead of that bit about the MILF (which was really lame) and the Koreans (which would’ve been more appropriate in a video about why he dislikes Koreans; we should not be blamed for the Koreans).

Douchbaggery aside, however, this city – country, even – can, in fact, learn a lot from the issues that he talked about. I have the exact same complaints, the exact same grievances about the state of Cebu City. And to think I was born and raised here. Heck, I’m still here! I just wish the “die-hards” would set aside their misplaced indignation and take it as an opportunity to face the truth. Being outraged for outrage’s sake is a bit childish, isn’t it?

Sadly enough, I can relate all too well to how every angry Filipino feels about this video. I’m married to a British guy, who has a lot of things to say about the state of this city. It annoys the bejesus out of me like you wouldn’t believe, even when I do agree with him 100% of the time. This is probably because he’s an outsider, a foreigner, and I’m naturally inclined to defend what is mine – in this case, Cebu. It’s the same way that I get really pissed off when anyone tells me how lazy I am, or how I spend too much; I know it to be true, but it still makes me furious when someone else points out my unsavory qualities to me. It’s a defensive move because the truth does hurt. This truth hurts a lot.

I guess what I’m trying to say is people really should set aside their feelings and work to prove the Jimmies of the world wrong. I’m sure many of the guys who’ve expressed outrage have peed on the streets of Cebu at least once, or are equally annoyed at those lazy-assed loiterers who expect a share of your hard-earned money for opening your taxi door. If you’re in a position to change things, do. If not, stop peeing, spitting, and littering – that’s already a very good start. I’m sorry if I sound preachy, but really, rage and anger will get you nowhere; you’re only making Jimmy win.

That is all. Don’t hate.

Once upon a time, I dated somebody who I had absolutely nothing in common with. It didn’t work out, obviously, but he did have one very important contribution to my life. He gave me Johnny Cash. (And June Carter, by extension.) This, by the way, happened well before Walk The Line ever came out, so I’m one of the few people I know who can truthfully claim to be a fan before Hollywood made it mandatory.

Which is not to say that I don’t like the movie. As a matter of fact, I love it to pieces. And so because I have not seen it in years and because it was The Man in Black’s birthday yesterday, I hunkered down to watch Joaquin Phoenix and Reese Witherspoon in all their magnificence once again last night.

I’m glad I did.

Now, I’m not a country music fan or anything; not even in the slightest. But the thing that really gets me about country musicians is not how good they are with their instruments, but how incredibly earnest they are. I especially love how Johnny and June did not even try to wax poetic in any of their songs, yet they came up with some of the best lyrics ever written: Jackson, Walk The Line, A Boy Named Sue, Folsom Prison Blues, Time’s A Wastin’ (June and Carl Smith’s song) – I could go on and on. It is that sort of candidness that appeals to me, and it makes the whole package all the more relatable.

But I digress. I was saying how glad I was that I watched Walk The Line again. This is because I’m going through a rather difficult time right now, and therefore, quite given to maddening introspection. I realized that there was much to be learned from Johnny and June’s relationship. That you may not – and don’t really have to – get it right the first time. That relationships are complicated. That you should marry your best friend, if you can. (And, of course, don’t do drugs, kids!)

I know I have a long, hard road ahead of me. But you know what? I’ve realized that there really is nothing for me to be afraid of. I’ve learned my lessons; I’m still learning, in fact. Every day, I know myself a little bit more and lose myself a little bit less. And if I can just keep walking this line that I’m on and try not to fall off on one side or the other, I’ll get to where I’m heading. Eventually.

I brought 4 pairs of boots with me to Europe. I brought two black pairs (my heeled Promods and low Acne Pistol-ish ankle boots), my 14-hole cherry red Dr. Martens, and my tan Jeffrey Campbell LES (Lower East Side). I would’ve brought along my blue JC Litas, too, if I had room.

Looking through all my photos so far, however, you’d think I only had one pair on me. It seems that I’ve been wearing the JC LES nonstop since I’ve been here, and I haven’t even noticed. I tell you, it’s the most comfortable, most versatile pair of boots (are they riding boots?) I’ve ever owned. EVER.

To think I nearly didn’t buy it because it is quite pricey. It’s been retailing for nearly $300 (until now, even), but thanks to the Solestruck Black Friday sale, I got it for next to nothing. Still, I nearly didn’t buy it because, back then, I didn’t know I would be going somewhere cold. But I did [buy it], so maybe I had a premonition of things to come, who knows? The fact is it is the best impulse buy of my entire life. It has withstood the snow and ice, as well as hours upon hours upon hours of walking both in Amsterdam and Paris. It has certainly paid for itself many times over. And yes, I do pride myself for my wonderful shoe choices.

For the rest of my trip, however, I’m going to force myself to start using the rest of the boots I lugged all this way. So I’ve decided to leave the JC LES in Amsterdam while I go gallivant in Rome. I’m already having separation anxiety. Pffftttt.

I’ve 6 days to go before I jet off to Amsterdam, and I’m pretty much packed and ready to go. Excited, much? Tee hee.

I’ve also finished booking the various legs of my trip. Initially, I planned on just winging it. But since I was working with a rather limited time and budget, plus I already knew which among my very long list of cities to visit were my top priorities, I decided booking in advance was the more prudent way to go.

Ladies and gentlemen, my itinerary:

• February 1 – Flying out!
• February 2-5 – Amsterdam (+ Rotterdam day trip, hopefully)
• February 6-9 – Paris
• February 10-12 – Amsterdam
• February 13-16 – Rome
• February 17 – Bound for home

I made it a point to be in Amsterdam during both weekends that I’m there so I can spend time with my friends, the newlyweds Kaye and Bram, who work the rest of the week. In theory, I could actually go straight to Rome from Paris, but I couldn’t find good rates for trains and flights, while the bus just takes so bloody long. I was, however, lucky enough to score a reasonably-priced roundtrip ticket from Amsterdam to Rome on Alitalia, so there you go. This is working out great because I’m leaving my huge-assed suitcase in the de Beijers’ flat, so I can simply re-pack my small suitcase for Rome. No repeat outfits, yey!

I may still squeeze in a trip to Berlin to attend the Berlinale on February 9 through 11, but that’s still all up in the air right now because the one-way flight from Paris to Berlin is much too expensive. I can’t take the bus or train because they’ll take too long and I’ll only end up missing the premiere I’m meant to be attending, making that entire trip useless. If I can make it, though, I’ll be going back to Amsterdam via train from Berlin, which is quite shockingly cheap. Here’s hoping I’ll find a cheap last-minute deal on a Paris-Berlin flight.

Oh, and I’ll be traveling on a first class train from Amsterdam to Paris. It’s under Thalys‘s current promotion – a first class seat works out just a wee bit more than a second class one. I just got myself free wifi for the entire trip AND a gourmet meal for €5 more. How could I not, right? Especially when I’m going to be fed this. So yes, first class it is!

I had also sort of resigned myself to a spate of youth hostel stays and shared bathrooms, which made me feel more than a little queasy, knowing that I don’t exactly qualify for ‘youth’ anymore. However, I was pleasantly surprised to find decent single rooms in decent locations that were still well within my budget. You have absolutely no idea how relieved I am to have my own bathrooms – ensuite!  - both in Rome and Paris. Before that, I had visions of myself running through a freezing hall after I’ve had a shower in a shared grubby bathroom – hair dripping wet and all – just to get to my shared dormitory where my clothes would be. The horror! I probably would’ve turned into an icicle mid-run. So I hunkered down, combed TripAdvisor for alternatives, and thankfully found a few. I barely slept for two nights, mind you. But yes, it does pay to be obsessive sometimes.

As for tours, I’m not really fussed. Of course, there’s no way I’m going to miss seeing the usual suspects, and maybe a couple of museums, too. But other than that, I’ll probably just be taking a lot of walks and photos, exploring at my own pace, lost in my own thoughts. And writing – lots and lots of writing!