South Saturdays: Nuvali

Brunch and the South are two of the maybe four things I love on this godawful planet… So I convinced Marvin to eat at The Morning After in Nuvali.

Another thing I love? Restaurants referencing coitus.

To be fair, it wasn’t difficult. The conversation went something like this:

Me: There’s a place in Nuvali I want to try. It’s called The Morning After.
Marv: Okay, let’s go this Saturday.

It’s why we get along so well. Continue reading

Dispatches from Kota Kinabalu

I’m at the airport as I type this, having hastily gotten an iced Americano at Bo’s Coffee to stave off the inevitable caffeine headache. When will there ever be a Starbucks here? I only ever seem to drink Bo’s when I’m at NAIA Terminal 3. And that one time with Kevin, but it was his birthday lunch (kind of, since it was in July and his birthday is in May).

We’re supposed to board in a few minutes, and I’m a mix of nerves and excitement.

Continue reading

Titas of MNL ✈ CEB

“Shit. I need to learn how to chill!!!”

I was stuck in traffic, frantically texting Dei, worried that I’d miss our flight to Cebu. The cab ride from my house to the airport, usually taking only fifteen minutes, had stretched to well over an hour. Traffic was barely moving; we’d been in the same place for nearly thirty minutes.

Continue reading

Fight or flight?


Before I could make the choice, my subconscious did it for me: it chose flight.

It always does, and here’s the thing about self-sabotage: you don’t know you’re doing it until it’s too late. Why would I ruin something good?

My belief in parallel universes gives me comfort: there’s a universe out there in which everything worked out. Just not this one.

Davao for the holidays

​​It’s three days before Christmas.

In the rush of holiday travel, I’m eternally grateful I’m flying Philippine Airlines — a direct flight out of one of the better terminals at NAIA, which is all I ask for, given that my entire family flew out a week prior. Having lugged my bags from home that morning, I leave the office early in the afternoon. When I tell my Uber driver to take me to the airport, he says I’m the third person he’ll be driving there today, and asks me where I’m headed.

“Davao,” I say, and leave it at that.

I don’t add the part about the old, ugly airport and the alleged hipons because it might depress him.

“Ah, durian!” He chuckles. Continue reading

Pagudpud It In Me

Sometime in January, I got a text from Jake, and let out a little girly yelp in my office. It read thusly:

I haven’t seen him in over a year. I truly do love him, like one would a diseased uncle, and the only way I can express that is by constantly mocking him for being awful and a Jew. Continue reading

And you say Chi City

​​​I guess nobody would be surprised to find out that I’ve never been to Chi-Town in my entire life.

 That’s Chinatown, Binondo. Not Chicago, Illinois.

That’s Chinatown, Binondo. Not Chicago, Illinois.

At this point, it seems silly having never gone, so Marvin, Harmony and I spent an entire morning eating our way through Binondo. They’ve been to Old Manila many times, but everything I saw was new to me: the old buildings, the side-streets and alleys, the feeling of being foreign in my own country. Continue reading