I'm currently out of fighting form. Really hoped to blog about a lot of things. Among them is, of course, the cuisine-as-metaphor-for-diaspora-film, American Adobo. I have watched the film. I thought it was a noble project but the scope was too ambitious. Jessie, our beloved bluesy Kantogirl, has a good take on the matter. I'll leave you to her while I take my leave and recollect on some things.

My meeting with two UPS batchmates and one upperbatchman left me a bit more contemplative than usual. One of the strongest hearts I know, one of the most probing minds I prize, and one of the loveliest characters I admire, all in good seats around a small round table. No wonder I am left as thus. Since the flurry of weekend events, I haven't stopped to process it all. I probably won't publish my findings here though, I'm rediscovering the art of journal-writing in good old vellum, ancient papyrus, dear paper! My last entry was dated November 2, 2001. It was a reading of Benjamin Singkol by F. Sionil Jose.

Belle contemplates on the meaning of blogging. And she got to the bottomline. It's nothing else if not personal. We were just hoping she would not consider unblogging. Read and decide, if you must, dear reader.

I shall take my leave. I hope this won't take long!