Welcome to my blog if you're just joining us from other sites in your surfing. Or boredom. I care not which.

I have added a new link to the list on the right - shot out to the Colonel.

In the meantime, I shall continue blogging my experiences from the Philippines. If you didn't already know, the post previous to this one is the plane ride from Philly to Manila in all it's glory. I shall continue where I left off. I promise you, this stuff is worth reading if you don't know what to do with yourself for a small period of time.

DATE: SEPTEMBER 11, 2005 (US, SUNDAY)
LOCATION: UNCLE JUN'S HOUSE, CORINTHIAN HILLS, MANILA, PHILIPPINES
TIME: 725 AM, MANILA (SEPT. 12); 725 PM, NEW YORK (SEPT. 11)

I am sort of confused about what day it is since I'm 12 hours ahead of the states, so I'm trying to keep it all straight in my head.

I am fully aware of what day it is in New York City, however. Trust me, this observation did not sit lightly with me. But in the midst of other emotional priorities, it got stirred up in the mix.

Yesterday, I was awoken by two children bounding into my room loudly.

After being jumped on, bounced upon, they proceeded to pepper me with questions such as: "Do you know how to play chess? Checkers? Scrabble?"

At which point, my 8 year old cousin left the room only to return and plop the games down on my bed. She then declared I was "so big" and then proceeded to house me in a game of checkers where she broke all the rules and I took no time at all pointing that out to her.

I should take a moment to explain something. Here, in the Philippines, if you aren't a stick, you are big. Now I realize that under normal circumstances, I could easily spend a week living off the fat of the land. But here, more than in the US, it's about appearance - if you can fathom such a thing being true. But it really is. Body type is all they talk about here, us Filipinos are supposed to be small-boned, slight, and with long hair - all attributes that fall a few yards by me. So it's something you come to expect. I literally could step off the plane at 100 lbs and they'd be like, "Did you put on weight?" And honestly, this really doesn't bother me in the least, I don't give a rat's ass. But since my little cousin thought it would be fun to keep harping on the fact, I am doing my best to preserve my intent by telling you the story as-is.

Right.

Back at the ranch...

I have been wanting to play Scrabble for months since I played at the Astoria Beer Garden the last time I was in NYC for Coro's New York at Nite - and yes, we went to a beer garden and played Scrabble, what's your point?

But I more than made up for it. I played seven games or something like that today. By the second one, I was tired. By the seventh, I was silly stupid.

And bypassing the fact that my cousin cheats, which I let her do until the fourth game where it became rather wearing, I won all the other games. Yes, she's eight. No, she doesn't speak English fluently. But tell me what you would do when your seven letters are: "Y", "I", "O", "I", "O", "A", and "E"? It sucks when all you get are vowels or consonants.

I'm pretty tired from jet-lag and Scrabble. Bed looks good right about now...

Cheers,
Keeza

I have finally returned from the motherland. And I found myself in an interesting position as I seemed to have contracted a stomach virus.

Not neat.

I was in the hosptial for a few hours to get rehydrated and now I'm finally feeling better three days later.

But that's neither here nor there.

I had hoped to blog every day of my trip. I kept a journal. One of those nice moleskin ones (thanks for the advice, Mad Dog).

But the internet isn't so great on that side of the pond. So in all it's glory, here is my journal from the past two weeks. I will post every day until I finish my travel log. Then it will be back to the regularly scheduled program. Trust me, there's just too much fodder for me not to blog this. So without further ado...

TRAVEL DAY: SEPTEMBER 9, 2005 (US)
LOCATION: SOMEWHERE OVER CANADA. LAKE SUPERIOR?
TIME: 545 AM, JAPAN; 445 PM, NEW YORK

I forget how much I enjoy travel, regardless of the circumstances under which I travel. At this point, after such a difficult month, I have decided that I should take my amusement when it comes and make no apologies for it. I figure that the least I can do is be fully aware in all moments - good, bad, funny, annoying. Hell, that's life after all.

Take, for instance, my utter amusement and delight at discovering that beer and wine on international flights, unlike domestic ones, are free of charge.

Here I sit, feet propped up on the empty seat between my mother and I - turned sideways for maximum comfort - with a Miller Lite in my hand, ice cold, and at 6am Philippines/Japan time.

My mother is actually the one who supplied me with the free drink information after an entire morning of my cousin, Ailieen, and I joking about needing a drink, but that it was probably too early in the morning to start.

I'm not going to lie to you. We weren't joking. At least I know I've been dreaming of an ice cold beer since last week. Aileen has been saying we need a drink after the two weeks that we've had.

After my joy of realizing that the drinks were, indeed, free, I caught my mother's eye for a split second. A fleeting thought entered my mind: "Does she think I'm an alcoholic?"

My answer comes quickly from a different part of my mind: "You deserve it, it's free, and besides, when in Rome..."

Then I quickly wonder if this is the part of my brain that gets me in trouble.

Before I can contemplate ways to isolate this particular region of my cerebrum, I am snapped back to reality by the feeling of extreme clausterphobia as I get clocked in the head by the reclining seat directly in front of me.

I swear to god, if she could recline any further, she'd have her head in my lap. And you know why I wouldn't mind for a quick second? Because it's the perfect angle to punch her in the neck.

Well, not really. That's really rather violent of me, isn't it?

I should mention at this point that I am only on my second hour of this leg of the trip. And it's 19 hours long. And if I'm taking stock, I've had one beer, a dinner of chicken, shrimp salad, a roll, beans, and a brownie - nothing to write home about, by the way, and I've already been clocked in the head. I'm halfway through the David Sedaris book I started this morning and I'm afraid that taking out the tarot cards will offend the delicate sensibilites of the majority of Asians that make up this plane's demographic.

And I have another 17 hours to go. I wonder if my mom would worry if I ordered another beer - oh wait, this isn't a boring baseball game where I can drink the innings faster. Dammit.

On the other hand, there's that region of my brain again...

Ow.

Bitchslapped by the seat again. That's it, I'm walking around. Craptasm!

TRAVEL DAY: STILL SEPTEMBER 9, 2005 (US, FRIDAY)
LOCATION: SOMEWHERE OVER SOME PROVINCE IN CANADA
TIME: 650 AM, JAPAN; 550 PM, NEW YORK

Okay. I'm wondering what part of Canada I'm currently over when I was struck by a thought:

I'm not the only one who giggles when I hear Saskatchewan, am I?

Or even better: Manitoba!

Hee hee!

Okay. Seriously. Stop looking at me like that. I've been on a plane for forever.

Fine. I'm walking around again.

TRAVEL DAY: SEPTEMBER 10, 2005 (US, SATURDAY)
LOCATION: I HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO IDEA. SOMEWHERE NEAR JAPAN?
TIME: 520 PM, JAPAN; 420 AM, NEW YORK

I love how they try to simulate "morning" on a plane. They turn the lights on full - forcing people to open their eyes and squint as the stewardess asks: "eggs or rice?"

Assuming I'm close to Asia, I opt for the rice.

I, however, have mostly been awake. They turned off the lights not long after I last wrote.

I seem to think it's been daylight outside the windows since we left Detroit. Seriously. One guy close to me has had his flap up and it's been light the whole time. That's unnatural, right? Makes me wonder if we're just circling around.

At some point since my last writing, they've shown four movies, including "Monster In-Law" which isn't even listed as one of our available movies. I'm hoping they follow suite with "Mr. and Mrs. Smith" - we're not supposed to have that, either.

Of course, my viewing pleasure would be better enhanced if there wasn't an abnormally tall Asian man with spiky hair blocking 40% of the screen. I tried moving my head slightly, but have you ever seen someone start to fall asleep? Their head rolls around like a bladder on a stick, as Eddie from Ab Fab would say. This man falls asleep like this - but only when there's a movie on. I got neck cramps from moving my head around so much. As I write now, there's no movie on, so his head is still. Craptasm.

By the way, I assume breakfast tastes better without the headrest in front of you included. This woman has been sleeping since we took off. She'll be pretty jetlagged once we hit Nagoya.

Boy, I really got lucky with the passengers in front of me. I'm putting money down that after we refuel in Nagoya, my experience will be better for the final leg of this journey.

I've given up trying to figure out how much longer we have. At some point hours ago, it was useless. It became unfathomable for me to comprehend the time I've spent on this plane. It's like someone claiming that they have a gazillion dollars and daring you to count it all. What's the point? I know my ass will be here for a while - I'd rather not count down the hours because after two, it's like watching paint dry.

I'm forcing myself to stay awake now for at least the next 60-70% of the the remainder of this trip. I probably already had a decent night's sleep - at least 5 hours. But it seems that I've been awake longer than anyone in this section. I know I was awake hours before they were. It doesn't surprise me, really, since I barely get sleep when I'm actually on land.

Night owl that I am, maybe this will be good for me. Normal hours for me instead of jetlagged. Murphy's law would reverse this. Chances are...

In the meantime, some reading while waiting for an available bathroom seems to be in order. Honestly, can we get another bathroom for the 19 hour flight? I've been waiting for hours...

TRAVEL DAY: STILL SEPTEMBER 10, 2005 (US, SATURDAY)
LOCATION: NAGOYA, JAPAN
TIME: 750 PM, JAPAN; 650 AM, NEW YORK

I heart Japan. I need to leave the airport first before I can declare that, I know. But hell, it's true. Judging by this airport, I know I'd love it.

Mai's right: everything here is cute and strangely disturbing at the same time. Like the hand dryers in the bathroom. Fantastic. I can't even describe it except to say that instead of the dryer being above your hands, it's like a cutout. You put your hands in it and it dries both sides of your hands with a powerful gust of warm air. That's the stuff. I was more disturbed by the sight attached to it that read: "Feel funny on the airplane? Nausea, headache, fever, chills, aches? Go to the Health Counsel's office NOW!"

I'm wondering how seriously people take that. I started thinking about whether or not I felt any of it on the plane. I started getting worried that I had. Then I started getting worried I hadn't.

Then I remembered that I'm not a hypochondriac.

I picked up a state-of-the-art digital camera that's more advanced than the ones we have here and cost just shy of $400. I figure it's not too bad. Then again, my mother bought it, but whatever. I'm excited. I also picked up something that said vitamin juice and "coffee shot" which promises to keep me up all day or something. Both for 220 Yen or basically just under $2 - when I pay $6 for a Starbucks tall. Sigh.

Everything here is also orderly and clean which seems exactly the kind of an environment an anal-retentive monkey like myself would feel at home in.

Oooh. Time to board the plane. More later.

P.S. I mention the camera because soon this trip will resemble the widely unfamous "Tales from the Trail" blog I started last year during the Presidential race - meaning you'll get a picture or more on the posts. Something to look forward too?

TRAVEL DAY: STILL SEPTEMBER 10, 2005 (US, SATURDAY)
LOCATION: SOMEWHERE BETWEEN JAPAN AND MANILA
TIME: 815 PM, JAPAN; 715 AM, NEW YORK

My mother just turned to me to ask me who keeps farting.

I just woke up from sleep. I don't know. Nor can I smell passed gas.

She crinkles her nose into a sour puss face.

"Well someone has been farting since we took off, I can smell it."

Knowing her sense of smell, I don't doubt it. Confident that it's not me, I go back to sleep.

TRAVEL DAY: STILL SEPTEMBER 10, 2005 (US, SATURDAY)
LOCATION: ABOUT TO LAND IN MANILA, PHILIPPINES
TIME: 1030 PM, MANILA; 1030 AM, NEW YORK

I cannot decide whether or not I like the map shown on the screen to indicate where we are, where we have traveled thus far, and how close we are to our destination.

Partly because like I said earlier, after 19 hours, the plane doesn't look like it's moving on the map at all. It is like watching paint dry.

On the other hand, it is nice to see how close we are to Manila. Yet, I can't decide if I like knowing that in times of turbulence (and we've had them) that I have a choice between landing on what looks to be a mountain range or somewhere in the sea. Morbid thoughts, I know, but honestly, after that past month, these thoughts come. At least it gives me time to figure out whether to reach above for the masks that will fall or my seat cushion that will act as a floatation device in cases of emergency. Preparation is key.

Oh, we solved the mystery. The man in the seat in front of me is the flatulator. Thank god my sinuses are acting up.

But not that bad. He stood up to stretch and I almost passed out.

My mother and I laughed.

TRAVEL DAY: SEPTEMBER 11, 2005 (US, SUNDAY)
LOCATION: UNCLE JUN'S HOUSE AT CORINTHIAN HILLS, MANILA, PHILIPPINES
TIME: 330 AM, MANILA; 330 PM, NEW YORK (SEPTEMBER 10)

Wide awake. La la la. I feared this.

Ninoy Aquino Airport only seems to have one bathroom. And it's not by any gate. You have to go through customs first, wait in the long line, then walk another football field length to get to baggage claim before you finally can use the bathroom. Neat.

So we got in hours ago after our arrival. As soon as we stepped outside, I started sweating. Just a sign of things to come.

I will also now mention the legendary traffic in Manila. Imagine the bottleneck going into the Holland Tunnel during rush hour. The LIE on a weekend in the summer. The Chesapeake Bay Bridge going to Ocean City in July. Boston when they started the Big Dig. DC jammed with lots of tourists not knowing where to go. Los Angeles traffic during... well, at anytime. But with road closings.

Have that awful scene in your head?

Now throw them all together, take out sensical rules of the road, seatbelt laws, and lane markers. Now you have Manila traffic. See a space? Go with it. See a red light? Run it. See that guy in front of you as you exit a parking lot? He'll move. Jesus, I forgot I have a heart attack everytime I get into a car here.

And it wasn't even busy on the roads when we left. Oy.

But this time, I think I have the cajones to try my hand at driving here.

Well, at least outside of Manila. In my mother's province. Where road traffic is limited to motorcycle tricycles, kids on bikes, chickens, and goats.

The smell of Manila is distinct. The air is heavier. And hotter. And the minute you step outside, you know you're home.

My uncle's brand-new house is absolutely gorgeous. It's huge. It has big-planked wood floors, marble on the first floor, state-of-the-art bathrooms (I should remind myself to tell you about bathrooms in the Philippines in general in a later post), and air conditioning. And I'm extremely happy about that.

But I will attempt some sleep now. I'm starting to get tired. More adventures tomorrow.

Cheers.

Hello all,

As promised, I am sitting in an internet cafe. Of course, internet service ain't as good here as on our side of the pond. So when I get back, I shall regale you with stories of my time from the land of the brown.

Until then, wait. I'll be coming at you from a 21 hour plane ride home soon.

Cheers,
Keeza

I find myself in Detroit at the moment. Sitting in an internet cafe in the airport, wearing very comfortable clothes as I try to eat what I would consider the last solid meal I might have in the next 19 hours.

I doubt there are many people out there who continue to read this since I've failed at posting thus far. But I know that there are a few of you who still faithfully click on my blog when you are bored, so for the few and the brave, I shall endeavor to continue.

I plan on blogging a lot in the next two weeks. I'll wager that almost all of you who read this know that my father passed away on Sunday - something I'm not quite sure that I will get around to writing about anytime soon, but I know it'll have to come out. It's been a long and strange month and it's hard to tell which way is up most of the time.

So here I am, at the airport, awaiting the 19 hour leg between Detroit and Manila. Bringing my dad home is bittersweet and it's hard to believe it's been almost eight years since I've been home. I'm eager to go, yet dreading the eventual emotional storm I fear I will have to weather. But that's life. And the best we can do is go on.

In the meantime, I'm keeping my sense of humor intact. It seems to be the only thing saving me besides the amazing support system of friends that have sustained me this past month. So expect the usual Keeza wit. I'm already thinking of my next post. Airports are great fodder for blogs.

Stay tuned, I'll be back soon. In the meantime, mama's gotta eat some good food before I sit on a plane for almost a day.

Best,
Keez

So I know it's been awhile, but my life has been upended with all the family stuff I'm dealing with. Long story short, my dad is still in the hospital and not doing well, we've had family in from all corners - California and Canada, and besides work and the Philly Fringe, I've been pretty exhausted and finally starting to feel the mental, emotional, and physical fatigue. But we take one day at a time and that's how you survive.

In the meantime, I've found that my problems pale in comparison to what's happening in the Gulf states. And knowing how political I am, I will refrain from my usual soap box rants about the President flying by in a helicopter - hey, at least it only took him two days to get there, that's an improvement from 9/11...

But I'll let this speak for itself. Rather fascinating, no? It's about time the country started to wake up.

Editor and Publisher notes that, "On June 8, 2004, Walter Maestri, emergency management chief for Jefferson Parish, Louisiana; told the Times-Picayune: 'It appears that the money has been moved in the president's budget to handle homeland security and the war in Iraq, and I suppose that's the price we pay. Nobody locally is happy that the levees can't be finished, and we are doing everything we can to make the case that this is a security issue for us.'