instead of finishing umberto eco and starting on virginia woolf and the countless papers due next week, i decided that a trip up to Baguio with the family would be a better use of my time. so, at 9pm on thursday, we stuffed our darling Fortuner with the essentials and started the lovely 6 hour drive up north. as i stared out the window and watched the stupid tricycles that clog the exit of our village be honked away, i couldn't help but be bittersweetly-amused at the thought that i could fly to singapore and back in 6 hours.

eventually we're on the NLEX (north-luzon expressway) and shadows of sleeping trees whip past, triggering remembrance of Chicago and Crystal Lake and the annoying pooping ducks that stain the cottony-morning snow; and how the car window would sometimes appear cracked from frost, and how i'd press my cheek against it to see how long i could stand the cold, before tracing shapes. i tried it again, it wasn't the same.

then, Fortuner broke into song. how do i live, it crooned. i suppressed the smile that was starting to crease my eyes. it wasn't complete, i couldn't smile. not yet, not until i had inhaled the melody.

my chest rose. i looked out again, and this time, the music felt louder, a blanket of ivory weighed down the shadows, frost danced along the window, my index - as it traced imagined cracks - shivered; then, i began to feel like how i would always feel during the numerous car-rides along the highway leading to Chicago, as my ten-year old eyes focused on the the blur of blanketed trees under the frosty twilight, while the radio - tuned to the station that always played the same rhimes-ish songs - annoyingly invaded the voices of my parents upfront. i felt cold, yet satisfyingly warm, like the embrace of honey spiked tea trickling down my oesophagus to tickle my tummy happy, uncaring towards the numbness of skin and chatter of teeth.

i allowed my eyes to crease, then i giggled. "kuya, look! it's 500m to Mexico." i giggled again. i had seen a sign and it just about made my day. i should have taken a picture with it.

...i love the cold and thus will invade Baguio again this christmas.

i enjoyed blowing fog filled kisses to unsuspecting morning joggers.