It's the 24th and I haven't even wrapped my presents yet. I doubt I even have sufficient wrappers at home for all those, as I think Mom has just utilized half of it wrapping give-aways for kids tomorrow.

Anyway, I just got off from work and am waiting for the mall to open. My cousin has begged me to buy her officemate a present, so that's what I'm doing after this. And probably purchase more unnecessary stuff. For the sake of Christmas.

God, why do I feel pathetic?

On the contrary, I feel really excited about our family's party tomorrow. And tonight's noche buena, of course. I had fever last Sunday and had been waking up every night voiceless due to sore throat and cough, so I'm keeping my fingers crossed and hoping I'll have a blast with everyone else like last year. 

Also, I've been coming home to Batangas everyday this whole week because I'm working on a double video presentation that I'd like to show everyone tomorrow night. I showed the incomplete version to my sisters and to my surprise, one cried, while the other almost did as well. Man, if I could get at least five people tomorrow to shed tears, I'd be one very happy camper! Because then that would mean that my plan was a success. My only problem now, though, is that I don't know when I'll finish it. If I can do that today (which means, I'd have to stay awake for 24 hrs again) then I guess it'll be easier to figure out next how to put it on big screen. And I'm not even half done yet.

So yeah, I gotta go now because this cafe's internet rate is triple the regular and it's killig me.

HAPPY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!!!!

They say variety in anything you do is an effective way to beat boredom. So this morning after work, I headed off to Makati Med and donated 450ml of blood to a complete stranger.

Holding a small piece of crumpled paper with just a name and room number I had scribbled minutes earlier, I knocked on the door and introduced myself to the couple. Then I quickly recounted how I had received an email from my supervisor early this morning regarding a colleague in need of blood transfusion.

Needless to say, it didn't take the husband five minutes to usher me out of the room and to the blood bank. I filled out the form, had my PE ( and listened as the doctor shared his predicament about buying presents for his 20 godchildren this Christmas), and submitted myself for a blood sample. As we waited, the husband and I talked about a lot of things.

Later I found out that he actually just flew in from Davao, quite reluctantly in fact, after losing his brother to hydrocephalous last week. Within minutes, we already knew whose members of the family had illnesses and what type, where we lived, which religion we belonged to, where we worked, and what we did for a living. He told me in details how his wife had a miscarriage previously and how they immediately returned to the hospital upon learning that his wife is infanticipating yet again, afraid that she might endure another miscarriage due to diabetes and hypotension, if that's at all connected.

It was amazing how quickly we got into such conversation and talked comfortably about personal matters, considering the fact that we just met. But neither of us seemed to mind.

All 450ml of my vital fluid was collected in perhaps 10 minutes, while I had to stay in bed for about the same duration to avoid dizziness. I got out of the bank, gave the husband a smile, finally asked his name, shook his hand, wished he and his wife good luck, and said goodbye.

Everything ended as abruptly as how it all began, but I guess that doesn't matter anymore.

Other than the free apple-flavored Zest-O, I learned that there's more to donating blood - today, I met new people and discovered new things. That experience was certainly spiritually uplifting and knowing I am able to help, I couldn't be more thankful.

So I go to bed, say a little prayer, listen to NJ (like now), and hope that I have a good, sound sleep. But what?

I see myself next to a supposedly georgeously handsome actor making love with Angelina Jolie. In a coffin. At their movie shoot.

Then, I tell Jolie while she was on top of the supposedly gorgeously handsome actor, this time on a table, "Don't move. I'll take you a picture." And they were both gone.

The scene that followed was even more strange. I peeked out of the door and saw my relatives all dressed in black, slowly gathering themselves at a place close to where I was, preparing for a funeral. Of my late Tita Adoracion.

Just minutes ago, I also saw an image of my cousin, in black as well, on her way to another cousin (and I'm talking about the same cousins I told you were very, very close to each other but are now both in denial of a possible misunderstanding/miscommunication, I think), probably getting ready for the same funeral - her mother's.

The whole surrounding looked so gray and gloomy, I thought that was really odd. My dreams have always been full of colors. And it seemed as if I was just in the background the whole time, watching the scenes unfold, absorbing the melancholy of it all.

It probably took me another gruelling hour to go back to sleep after that.

What a nightmare.