Mizz Erna

I"m still here.

Days after graduation were quite busy. We had relatives visiting from Seattle for about a week. One of them, my cousin, D, sang for a wedding we all attended. It was the wedding of my god-daughter's parents. I was a bridesmaid and the hair stylist made my hair look pretty funky. Too bad it made me look like Medusa. I always regret putting my hair up for formal occasions. No matter what the style, I end up looking like a matrona. Then came the parade. It was pouring the night before, and that morning it also looked like it was about to pour. At 6:30 in the morning, B and I were arguing about alternatives. When the clock hit 7 I started calling folks to see what they thought. Thanksfully, we decided to go anyways, and brave the rain despite our banners painted with water-based paint on canvas that essentially was wall paper. Grassroots baby!

Then Mom caught me in a moment of weakness. She asks me (while on the phone with person requesting) if I can play the piano for a healing mass. In that brief moment of weakness, I could not for the life of me think of a decent excuse to refuse. You'd think the paper I have to finish of the Sangandaan conference woulda sufficed, no? But no, I couldn't think that fast and so, I agreed. Anyway, I'm getting boring, so let me close with a Pinoy Hay(na)ku inspired by Eileen's recent call for them:

mass

healing seeks

memory in song