Because it's what I'm seeing right now.
Yen is staying in a room just two floors above Dumaguete's ABS-CBN station.
I'm staying right across, Coco Grande Hotel.
Second time around here is highlighted by a raspy throat and stories from Cebu. Yen says "Bale, ikaw ang tibuok Cebu nako ron."
I'm carrying expletives and dragging Yen down with complaints on straight 20-hours of work and endless updates on how our friends are.
And yes, also on how great jerks men can really be.
It's surprising how I did not find myself talking about my usual about-family-rants last night.
I brought for her David Hare's The Hours screenplay and some printed materials of Sylvia Plath's poems in alphabetized order.
There is a blue bottle that says "erg, Vodka Mix with Guarana," whatever that means.
I'm looking at it right now and convincing myself that when I finish its last drop, I will be transported to a time and place where I am just on vacation catching up with a long-lost friend.
I am not with colleagues and I will ride Dumageute's scooters in my short shorts and black top.
Oh, and one more thing. I am bringing with me a still camera and I am taking pictures.