I am sorry to report that I am blogging to you from my bedroom in Assachusetts. I really miss my family. The past 9 days have been stress free [except for the days when I kept thinking about not wanting to leave]. I could have cared less that my uncle put me on a first class seat flying out of O'Hare, I just wanted to still be sitting in the recliner, next to my brother, watching TV. Still see my mom walk through the door after a late night at work, still hear her laugh when watching "Street Smarts," still smell my dad's signature potato pancakes at the ass crack of dawn. Still hear my dad and brother yell at each other for stupid things, still see Catherine parked outside my house blaring the horn of her soccer mom suv.

So, what did I do in 9 days? I spent a lot of time with Catherine, her husband, and two sons, whenever I had the chance to. I've bonded with her son Reilly.

It's cute because he doesn't treat me like an adult, he treats me like I'm one of his playmates. He tries to kick the shit outta me, we wrestle, and I end up kicking his ass. What can I say? He loves me [despite the fact that he says, "I hate you Tita, I'm gonna kick your ass"], he kept comin' back for more. Catherine and I spent a lot of time eating, she'd have Andrew watch both boys and we'd go off to have Mexican food, go to buffets and talk and laugh about the stupid things we did high school and how we wanna find MATURE men [even though SHE'S ALREADY MARRIED]...and me, well I wanna find a good 'ole American country boy [even though I'm in...something]. I miss her gutts out.

Spent some time with my cousin Bing [whose real name is Ivy Lou]. Bing is my favorite cousin. She, her mom and dad migrated from the Philippines when she was 3 years old. My aunt, a nurse received a working visa, and my uncle, a lawyer, took a job working in a factory to help make ends meet. I ended up being Bing's babysitter until she was 11. She ended up being my mini me. Then I moved to Boston. Now the girl has a drivers permit, wears tight jeans, curls her eyelashes...


"Bing, you know when you put mascara on, it's not suppose to clump up like that right?"

"Ate`, shut up [Ate` means sister in Tagalog]."

And the girl now tells me to shut up.

It's her birthday on December 14th. My birthday gift to her was a jacket she absolutely had to have. Happy Birthday, Bing!

I spent a lot of time with the big bro. We rented a lot of movies, watched TV [because it was kinda snowy out], and of course, ate a lotta food. Thanksgiving day, he made me watch Colonial House on PBS which I actually enjoyed watching. Every morning, we watched talk shows - favorite one being Maury Povich, where he'd have girls come on with their illegitimate children and different men to see who could have possibly fathered these children. It was so disgusting, yet funny. I felt sorry for the children. Maury would be like, "When it comes to 3 year old James, Todd.........YOU are...... NOT the father." Then, the girl would grab her head, start screaming like a wild banshee, "NOOOOO," then her man would run off, and she'd run off after him screaming, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sleep with fifty men." Girls who sleep around and have unprotected sex are STOOPID.

We watched a lotta "Who Wants to Be a Millionare" [I do, mother fucker], and joked around a lot. Man, I miss him. He's home a lot now since he quit his job, and even though I know he quit so he could think about what he wants in life, I feel bad for him. I wish there was something I could do to help him, but I know he needs to figure things out on his own.

Spent some awkward moments with my dad, didn't help that I was a little PMS'd out, I feel bad that I was short with him at times. Especially when he drove me to the airport. He took me the looong way, we got stuck in traffic and I panicked and we exchanged some words. I felt bad and I stepped up and apologized to him. When we reached the airport, he reached out to hug me. I felt a pit in my stomach and I gave him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I thought to myself, "I love you dad." You know, it's painfully difficult to not think of the past and how he was to me, my sibs, and my mom...but he's still my dad, he's getting old, and he's trying to change. It's his birthday tomorrow, December 1st. Happy Birthday to my dad.

My mom...

I miss my mom very much. In fact, I'm tearing up just typing this. I worry about my ma, alot. She works so much. Even though my mom is happy to have my dad outta the house [while he visits the Philippines], I want someone to always be there so she won't be alone. Thankfully, my brother is staying with her. We were sitting in the kitchen, watching TV when I looked over at her and she was staring into space, not at the TV. I looked over her face, and studied her profile. Her dark black hair [the hair that I inherited] now has silver strands. Her eyes looked sad, and she had noticeable bags under her eyes. I wanted to cry cause she looked so tired, but I held it in.

"What are you thinking about?"

"I'm just looking at my goldfish."

She keeps a bowl full of goldfish on the island counter [and no, I did not attempt another toothpick experiment], my brother and his friends had bought her some fish to keep her company.

There were points during my visit where I'd be sitting next to my mom and I'd just wanna grab her hand and hold it. But I didn't. Doing so would let on to the fact that something isn't right with me. I wanted to say, "I'm not happy mom. I'm confused and I don't know what to do." But instead, I'd touch her arm and just feel the comfort in knowing she was right by me.

I spent as much time with her as I could, cept for the day I missed church with her cause I was too lazy to get up [felt really guilty, too]. I miss her so much. Her birthday is coming up, too. The 15th of December. I got her an early gift...Bought her some of those silicone bakeware sets that are getting rave reviews. She likes to bake a lot of Filipino desserts. Anyway, Happy Birthday, mom!

It feels so weird being here. Feels so weird. I just wanna walk out of my bedroom and see my brother sitting on the couch. I wanna walk out of my bedroom and smell Filipino food, even though it annoyed me to sit in my moms kitchen and complain that my clothes reeked of it. I just wanna feel like I belong. I wonder if they miss me?

I
do
not
want
to
go
to
the
office
tomorrow.

If g-rilla stresses me out my first day back to work...

I just might find myself back on a bird to Chicago.