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27 on the 27th!

TODAY IS MY BIRTHDAY!

I woke to the sun streaming through my windows, banishing my fears of a thunderstorm that would cancel our trip to Lago de Oro, a place in Calatagan that my sisters had been chirping about since I got back. Here's Priscilla helping me pack by double-checking the contents of my handbag.

It took us a couple of hours to get to the place, and we all had to rush to the bathroom as soon as we stepped out of the car. The girl bathroom featured this sign, which sent me hunting for "foreign matters" the whole day.

Here's my birthday pizza. It had a super thin crust and had the yummiest cheese EVER. I had two beers with my slices, but only out of necessity -- a fly had landed in my first glass, and it was too drunk to get out on its own, so I had to get a whole new glass. I got a complementary iced tea as well, which Ate Au promptly chugged.

After eating, we trooped to Lago de Oro's main attraction: wakeboarding! Here's Ate Raine:



Ate Au and I are wussies, so we only did the "kneelboarding," where you kneel down on the board, pull the strap across your thighs, and hold on to the cord for dear life. On my first try, I got all the way to the first corner before the line suddenly snapped taut and the handle flew out of my hands, leaving me to sink to the muddy bottom. Fortunately, for the uncoordinated, there is a modified tractor that ferries you ever so slooooowly around the man-made pond back to the launching site. The boy who drives the tractor is full of helpful advice: "Next time, mam, kelangan diinan mo, etc etc." How to tell him that my triceps are completely unused to exercise, and it was a birthday miracle that I didn't drown on my first try?




We eventually finished, showered, and went to Tagaytay for dinner at Josephine's. This restaurant has a magnificent view of Taal Lake, but I had eyes only for the food: kilawing talaba, chicharong bulaklak, kare-kare, fired kangkong, and lechon kawali. We topped it off with a cappuccino cheesecake.

On the ride back home, we discussed the book "Who Moved My Cheese?" and I asked what exactly "Cheese" was supposed to be. It turns out that it's something that you pursue that makes you happy (or you think makes you happy). For example, for some people, it's their career, or their personal relationships. So they spend time running around looking for it, and when they find it, they get a sense of entitlement and become unable to adjust when the Cheese is gone (in the story, it gets eaten up). When my sisters asked me what my cheese was, I said, "Laughing Cow." Sadly, they were too engrossed in the conversation to notice my lame joke, which was an attempt to cover up the fact that I have no cheese. Boo hoo hoo. Something I pursue that makes me happy? Er?

Anyway, I like the question posed in the book: What would you do if you weren't afraid?

Right now, I'd stalk Jude Law.

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