Two hours before my scheduled flight, I packed a few pieces of tees and pairs of pants that I will be wearing for Batanes. I couldn’t decipher what I was feeling. Excitement and apprehension and numbness. We will be staying there for a month for a film shoot but I wasn’t sure if we’ll get there in the first place. I have this reservation about flying Asian Spirit. That name is my signified term for plane crash.
Yesterday, I went on a panic buying mode. Had to buy the things I thought I’d be needing. Shorts.. Oh, I need skimpy shorts for the beach. Alcohol, I need some disinfection. A cellphone! I need a phone or I’ll be damned. A still camera! I need to buy one. Food, food, food. Dork.
I brought with me a few items, probably not enough to get me through the whole stay. Those are the only wearable clothes that I have because most of my shirts won’t fit me anymore. Reminds me I have to get rid of this belly but I’m too lazy to conform with vanity. I know I’m vain but I’m not vain enough to look perfect.
At the same time, I felt so guilty about leaving Karl’s thesis unfinished. I don’t wanna see him humiliated by the Thesis Defense Panel because his film’s editing sucks big time.
I also wanted to stay for a few more days so I could spend time with my Mom who will be leaving for Davao next week and my brother who’s leaving soon. We won’t be seeing one another for a long time, I’m sure. And I wasn’t able to bond with my friends. Sucks.
Oh God. Why does packing seem so dramatic?
The purple towel is still wet and I insist on bringing it but my bag is not big enough to contain it. An assessment of my belongings made me realize I’m not worth much as a person. If I were to be auctioned last night, nobody would raise a hand for me.
I wanted to travel light, I need to keep reminded. Not too heavy enough to cause a plane crash in case it faces a signal number three typhoon.
Just when everything started to sink in, I woke my Mom and brothers up and gave them my last instructions for the apartment. The leaving part wasn’t emotional though. Oh, a good sign.
Got to the domestic airport at 5am. I wasn’t late. I was so sure the nagging mouths who kept on reprimanding me for my prima donna complex would shut up but they never did. Such stigma. At least, I get to be the diva.
Upon boarding, the guards refused to let me in because I had no ID to show. Right. Thanks to the robbers, I wished them dead right then. Oh, that was the time when a charming smile became handy.
When I finally got in, I received the big sign that said “Closed” under the Basco flight schedule.
Typhoon Ineng is having the time of her life in Batanes, up on signal number 2. So I have to be anxious for another day before I get to enjoy the simple life up north.
Deep breath. I wish I was never that dramatic while packing up. The typhoon just spoiled the aftermath of my moment.