Hot air and the day of hearts

A frantic call from my mother at 6:00 in the morning:

“Nasa’n ka?!”

Oopsie.

I left the house at 3:00 am to go to Clark with my teammates. I mentioned it to my mother in a hurried phone conversation the day before, but apparently she thought I was leaving in the afternoon. She panicked when she saw my empty bed at sunrise—a time which I normally consider “the middle of the night.”

I wasn’t supposed to go to the Hot Air Balloon Fiesta, but decided to do so at the last minute because:

1. I had an overwhelming week and thought it would be a nice break.
2. I had a tooth pulled and was feeling low.
3. I had a tooth pulled and couldn’t attend dance practice anyway (“No strenuous activities for four days,” said my dentist. Four days? Riiight. The next thing he said was, “I know I can’t stop you, so here’s what you should do when it bleeds…”).
4. It was an experience that at least promised to be different.

And I am so glad I went because:

1. We had special access courtesy of Fafa Fel’s powers. So we got really up close and personal with the balloons!

2. I got to sort of crawl inside one balloon as it was being aired up, and had some pics taken, wind factor and all.
3. We got Dondi’s “pasindi” shot, after A LOT of attempts.

5. We ran into a superstar who was with his new girlfriend…who happened to be a good friend of mine! “Surprise” was an understatement in this case. Haha.

Would’ve been cool having H there, but, as he said, it’s not his thing. We were together the night before—Best Boyfriend Ever gave me flowers—and we spent the V-Day evening in, eating pizza in front of the TV (and with pore strips on our noses). Really, it isn’t the fancy-shmancy restos, the overpriced bouquets, the sexy underthings that make the day of hearts; it's simply about spending it with the person that makes your heart beat that much faster.

Right, Jasper and Dinds? Harhar.