saturday, may 12
silly me for expecting to sleep in, as i am awoken at 8am by my mother, telling me i need to get up that instant, because we're supposed to be at my cousin's house in sunnyvale at 9. i can't feel my body, but i can't complain, because, well, i just can't. daughters don't do that to their mothers, according to the code of growing up filipino in an american world, chapter 8, section IV, line 265.

we get to joy and CJ's at around 10. joy, unlike melissa and jerry and everyone else i call cousin, is really related. when i was in grade school, she used to take me to the mall and buy me cute, smelly erasers from sanrio and take me to the latest disney flick. i loved spending the night at her house.

now, i walk into her house and feel like i'm visiting martha stewart. there are fresh berries in pale green bowls on the dining table, arrangements of spring bouquets everywhere and an assortment of knick-knacks scattered throughout the house.

she is going to take us to filoli, a sprawling, turn-of-the-century, country estate in the hills that is supposed to have stunning gardens -- also the location where they filmed dynasty. don't laugh. i used to watch that show with my mom. we wander around, smelling the roses, walking down pathways and taking the occasional photo, and it's hitting me: i am so tired. this is beautiful, don't get me wrong, and i actually enjoy this sort of thing. it's not as if it's versailles and thank god it's not the hearst castle, it's just nice. but oh my god, i am looking at that bench beneath the tree and i am thinking a nap sounds so delicious.



my wish comes true. after lunch at a japanese restaurant, we go back to the house and take a nap. a long nap. an i-don't-wake-up-until-my-eyes-pop-open nap. i am in heaven.



this leg of my trip is all about fine dining. for dinner, we have grilled pork and chicken, corn on the cob and asparagus. for dessert, creme brulee and chocolate covered strawberries. afterward, we watch gigi and the last half hour of my best friend's wedding.



sunday, may 13
it's mother's day, so we get to do whatever she wants. we were going to have a picnic at a nearby vineyard, but it's raining, so that plan is quickly vetoed and we decide to go wine tasting and try to find a last-minute place to have brunch.

when i lived in paris, i learned to drink wine. i didn't learn much about wine -- like what makes a good bottle, how to properly taste, which color with which meal -- because the one day that our group went to the champagne region, i was in the train station picking up my parents who came to visit.

so i'm standing there, at the bar, with my dad and CJ, tasting wine, and i really have no idea what i'm supposed to be doing or how i'm supposed to be reacting. i take a sip, swirl the glass around and then pause. i gulp the rest. i eat a cracker. i dump out the remaining drops in the jug on the counter. and then i do it all over again. i do know what i like, though, and i buy one bottle of the riesling to take home to michelle, my roommate.

we end up in saratoga for brunch, but the restaurant we want to go to is, of course, fully booked. we had not anticipated this. but the thing is, i thought we were going to be back in LA for brunch; mom had mentioned wanting to be back in time for a party her friend was throwing, so it didn't even occur to me to make arrangements up north. so it wasn't my fault, but i still felt bad, like being the daughter i should have planned something.

we end up at an italian restaurant, and it's not bad -- just not that good -- and i think everyone is pretending that it's better than it is because it's mother's day and every little detail is supposed to be perfect.

still, my mom being the gracious princess that she is, keeps saying this is the best mother's day ever.



and then it's time to go home.

it's 3pm. the drive is 6 hours, so we should be at my apartment by 9. i have monday off, so i'm really not concerned with time. i'm just looking forward to sitting in my bath, sleeping in my bed, wandering around the apartment, you know.

i feel like all i've done is sleep all weekend, but i manage to fall asleep for the first four hours of the trip. the last two hours, i drive.

i love driving, because i own the road. i get to play my music and drive at my speed, while everyone else sleeps. and i'm cruising, and i'm singing, and i'm thinking, and i'm counting down the miles -- every time i see a sign, i calculate how much longer that will be, and we are on track, and by 9:30pm i will be sitting at my desk, sipping tea and scribbling thoughts in my journal, i think.

thirty miles away from home, and we get stopped in traffic. what the--? an ambulance zooms by. thirty miles away, thirty minutes more, and i am stuck in traffic.

another ambulance zooms by. and then a police car. and then a firetruck. no, three firetrucks. and i realize this is a big accident. people are hurt. i remember what greg once told me about accidents, how whenever he passed one by, he said a prayer right then for the family, so i do: "dear God, please take care of whoever is involved in this accident."



the only sound is my parents breathing and the low humming of the engine, the only light outside is the chorus of red brake lights reflecting upon the cars, and i have one of those Big Moments, where all i feel is intense gratitude and love.

and it's funny how minor details were blown out of proportion. a week without a site update or not replying to an e-mail seemed like career suicide. questions like who was i going to take and what was i going to wear? became as big as the age-old mysteries of life itself. a personal website with sloppy html and sappy stories became the defining factor to who i was. but strip it all away, and none of that matters. honestly. none of it.

that's not to say i wasn't honored. and i didn't appreciate everyone's kindness. and i didn't have fun. because i was and i did.

but it's nice to be able to slip back into my life again, where i wear t-shirts and sneakers, grandma glasses and hooded sweatshirts; where i can go weeks without updating my site and not feel guilty; where i can ask the questions and write the stories; where i can drive down the street and nobody will even look twice, because i'm just another girl coming home from vacation.

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