I remember dreading the year I turned 3-0 like a plague, as every single, 20-something girl probably does. Then I woke up on the day itself feeling not only "not bad", but actually great! "So sue me that I was not married," I remember thinking, "but I did pretty well with myself in the 30 years I've been given, if I may say so myself." I remember being smug about doing well career-wise, about moving into my own space (independent-living, here I come!), about having a whole new set of friends (in addition to the solid ones I already had). Never mind the tragic love life; I had managed to convince myself back then that I would get over and outlive it. (For the record, I did. With flying colors. Nyahaha. ;p)
The 30-something years were really something. It started tragically enough, and I did allow myself to wallow in it for quite a bit, but after some time, the comfort of self-pity can turn into a cold, hard pillow so I told my heartbroken self to get my act together and move on. There was no turning back since. I built a career. Bought my first house. Opened myself up to new friends, though not necessarily the possibility of a new love. I think I may have overdosed on Sex & the City (which I religiously watched on HBO every Tuesday) and thought, I wouldn't mind being single for life.
Travelled to Chicago for work. Met up with my long-lost American Ninang whom I have not seen since I was three. Fell in love with the Magnificent Mile and the tulips that lined the streets in spring. Probably gained a ton with all the deep dish pizzas that I ate. To this day, I still dream of Giordano's (and I'm not even sure if it was the authentic one, haha).
Travelled to New York to meet up with old friends, Charles and Michelle. Saw Wicked. Fell in love with Wicked. Watched the last episode of Friends in the one city where it ought to watched. We sat glued to the TV set in our house clothes, tears in our eyes, while wolfing down a steak dinner, eating strawberries with dark chocolate and drinking wine. Met up with cousin Tam and cousin-in-law Chris. Participated in some street festival in Tribeca. Fell in love with street festivals. Walked through Central Park, Wall Street, Time Square. Fell in love with Manhattan and decided that with its vibe, it was my favorite city in the world. Flew to L.A. to meet up with Eric, my favorite ex-boss and a slew of ex-officemates. Went to Universal, California Adventure and Six Flags again with Cousin Dooders and Now-Grown-Up Baby Cousin Rae. Screamed our heads off once again and cursed quite a bit on the rides--in different languages. Haha. =D
Wanderlust hit our group of single 30-somethings with nothing better to do. Travelled to Europe with Gnie Gurl, Ade and Cheffy (plus a bunch of other people who were friends of friends of friends, long story) and decided that travelling was going to be our collective passion. Arrived in Paris alone (as everyone else was coming from the Athens Olympics and I was left behind in Manila for work), got briefly stopped at the airport for being a single Filipina who was travelling alone, and was allowed to go through only when they flipped on the passport page with my U.S. Visa. Darn French--i.e., until I met a lovely French lady who did not exactly smell like roses (if you know what I mean), but was kind enough to translate every single French sign for me until I got to Gard de Nourd (the central station) so I can hop on the metro that will take me to the student hostel we decided to stay on because our budget couldn't exactly pay for one night at the Four Seasons. Did the Da Vinci Code tour of the Louvre. Clowned around Notre Dam and ran after pigeons. Decided to walk to the Eiffel Tower because we can see it from where we were and it seemed close enough. Big, HUGE mistake! Malayo pala! Haha. Got there nonetheless, and spent a good part of the afternoon just lying around in the park, waiting for dusk and what would have been--according to professional photographer Gnie Gurl--the perfect shot. Ran like crazy like stupid contestants on The Amazing Race, trying to catch our train for Vienna, all luggages in tow--when we were really just being like stupid tourists who didn't know any better trying to run like hell so we can get on the "right cable car" which happened to be among the front cable cars of a VEEEEEEEEERRRRRRRRYYYYYY long train. (We heard, at a certain point, the train will split with each part going to different places). Stupid tourists. What we really should've done was get on the last cable car, and simply do our leisurely walk inside (!) the train until we got to the right cable car. Hahaha. =D That said, we did end up on the wrong cable and actually had to do a midnight run for the right one before the train split with one part going to Germany (yup, where we were) and the other going to Vienna (where we should have been). Haha. =D
Fell in love with Vienna. Decided that Tyrol, Austria is the most beautiful place on earth. Needless to say, fell in love with it.
Fell in love with Rome (despite the grunge and the darn pickpockets). Fell in love with the gelato. Exhausted myself going up 360 steps to the top of the dome of St. Peter's Basilica (where I saw the only Filipino phrase in all of Italy--"Meron pong elevator pababa." Wahaha. =D), wondering the entire way if it was going to be worth it. It was. =) Oh, never mind that I never saw the inside of the Sistine Chapel because we all thought it would be better to just to to the Vatican for Sunday mass and do everything else there after. Hello, the Sistine Chapel is the pope's personal chapel. Of course, it would be close on a Sunday! Darn it! Haha. Stupid tourists. Oh, well. Just one more reason to go back. =D
Fell in love with Venice, the glass-blowing shops and the yummy streetside pizza (with, according to Ade, the even yummier-looking Italian pizza vendor, ha!). Vowed I will be back there eventually to stay longer.
Fell in love with Florence and its flea markets (never mind that I only got to see the faux David because the museum was already closed on the day we took the trip).
Fell in love with Barcelona and the tapas bar along Las Ramblas. (Never mind that the Spaniards' propensity for siestas threw off our body clocks. Breakfast at 10am, lunch at 3pm, dinner at 10pm....)
Fell in love with Jerez, a side-trip to the quaint wine town, included only in the itinerary because BFF Cheffy had to visit an aunt he has not seen since birth (an aunt who supposedly looked exactly his mom whome he lost a few years ago). Family reunion. Vineyards all around. Lovely. =)
Being single, we made plans to bring our nephews and nieces to HK Disney as soon as it opens the year after, then plans for a Lord of the Rings tour to Australia and NZ the next. Well-laid plans.
Came home. Unexpectedly met someone over Friendster who was a friend of a friend (back in the day when testimonials still meant something, haha). Someone who managed to make me believe in possibilities again. Fell in love. Said yes. Got married. =)
It's been four years and counting. Highs and lows. Changed careers. Bought a new place, lightyears away from the single-girl's pad I started my thirties with, but much more suitable for our expanded interests and growing family (pups and yaya included). Plans to travel the world put on hold. Never mind. What we have is the real lifelong deal. There'll be time enough to see the world once we get everything else in place.
Whew! =)
So earlier this year, I turned 39. If someone told me at 30 what was in store for me over the next decade, I wouldn't have believed them. But God, apparently, has a plan for me--one that was so wonderfully different from the gloom and doom I had found myself stuck in back then. The only thing I could be is thankful, really.
In about 10 days, I will hit the big 4-0.
Let the new adventures begin. =)
