Good bye, America!

Maybe I will miss you, maybe not.

I still have not figured out your monies - I know dime and quarter but not pennies and nickels. Hahaha! Am too lazy to Google it.

Hoover Dam
Black Canyon, Colorado River

Also known as Boulder Dam. Sits on the border between Arizona and Nevada.

Serene blue waters reflecting the cloudless sky above.

Poor shot. Reminder to self: get a good cam next time. The view from the top is amazing.

My slight obsession with paper goes back a long time ago when all I have to write on are old test papers from my mother’s 5th grade class. Her pupils would give me clean ruled sheets and I take them as candy treats. My elder sister would give me scented stationeries in the shape of fruits and together I would keep them in a brown envelope.

As I grew older and my taste has improved - scented linens, pure cotton, acid-free and guess what? I still fall for scraps of old brown receipts, used checks and government forms. And you thought I have acquired sophistication. Such is my love for paper that I sent Jude love letters written on yellowed spelling tablet.

Imagine my joy at finding notebooks and pads in an American office supplies shop. I wanted to get everything. All the mini calendars, ruled notepads, neatpads, organizers, stickies, ruled stickies, colored stickies, tabbed notebooks and hundred of others that I have not imagined in my existence in the PH.

And have I not mentioned my obsession for moleskine? Yeah, I was facing my laptop breezing through my demonstration when something caught my eye - Tam, a pretty Vietnamese was scribbling notes on what else? A moleskine. I have been scouring bookshops for it and I guess, I am just plain unlucky.

I am writing on a company-issued 4 quadrille neatbook and I wanted to take it with me back to the PH if only I have space in my bags. I would. I know I sound so deprived but I think it is what has made me appreciate life’s small pleasures such as the smooth gliding of a ballpoint pen on a very absorbent paper.

When I think of my kids and how I would scold Una for taking her crayons and papers for granted (and not just that, toys, treats) and how Jude and I would punish them by not getting them toys and stuffs for months, I know we are not depriving them out of spite. I would just like them to appreciate the simple things in life.

I am going back home. My vacation here in the US is about to end. I am excited to go home and drink coca-cola from bottles, eat bangus, lechon manok and green mangoes.

America, I give it to you - you have the wackiest ads on TV. They are so entertaining that am thinking of subscribing to a channel airing nothing but ads. You have the biggiest food servings. They are so huge that a combo meal can feed two ravenous Me plus Third in my tummy. Your streets are so sterile - one can’t see garbage nor kids playing by the sidewalk. Your supply of paper towels outweighs the demand. I can only wonder where you dump your waste. And I love Walmart and Victoria’s Secret and your Freeways with their crazy route signs and exits.

I love your shops and your cheery attendants that asks: How are you? Do you find everything all right? I love your SALE! when most items are marked down and one can get a nice dress for 5USD on the clearance rack but it’s just so unfortunate that your S for small is L for me.

America, am sorry but the song in my head is Macy Gray’s Sweet Baby and am glad to be going back home.

The Miracle Mile Shop. I like the effects of the rippling water and the lights… reminds me of Matrix

Feeling nostalgic by the fountain in Paris. Not France, Vegas.

The Ticket Girl. Couldn’t help but ask her for some shots.

Vegas, Baby! With the bright night lights.

Bust of Ceasar. And two rabid girls.