The evil i

Dear Eena,

I know it is Daddy’s birthday. I was born with this ability to remember the birthdays of just about everybody who matter to me it’s uncanny…or maybe not. I have been trimming down that list of significant people in my life over the years that I’m down to twenty. I mean unless I have Alzheimer’s, I think I’d be able to remember at least twenty significant dates. Conveniently though, I ran out of prepaid phone load. So that’s that.

I‘m writing to you now, while I reenact inside my head the last conversation we had at Starbuck’s-Trinoma. No, this would not be a continuation of my listen-to-me-I’m-older-and-I-know-what-I’m-talking-about character. I’m actually surprised you didn’t throw those pedantic statements back at my face, preferably with an abundance of the red, ripe and juicy variety. I was so full of myself I still cringe at the thought. I’m sorry about that. I promise not let my evil alter ego (Jessica/Nikki of Heroes fame) get out the next time we meet.

I guess I just wanted you to know how much I appreciate having someone in the family I can really speak with without the fear of coming out as a candidate for self-restraint. God knows I tried with the others. Most of them would end up having this smile on their faces, which is a cross between condescension and downright panic. Fortunately, there’s Kuya Ronnie and your Mom, and from time to time, Archee. But with you, I can be my most free and uncensored self, just like I am with my closest friends. (This being an enviable position for you is still reasonably questionable.) And if only for that, I officially forgive you for temporarily cutting me off from your family tree. We should commemorate this occasion with fireworks or a virgin suicide, whichever is applicable.

So how are things on the academic front? And did you greet your Aunt last Friday? Sorry, I really couldn’t help myself.

More anon. With love always.