A time once travelled

Saturday night, I arrived home from work around 9 pm, feeling really ran down, with the immune system tittering to its limits, I could break down any second.
An empty luggage laid down abandon in the living room, David hyper as ever and papa, tension and anger written quietly all over his face.
While papa was still grilling fish and cooking rice, I put David in bed right away all bathed and fed.
Since the threats of the Air France strike, we have stopped telling David about the vacation, stopped showing him photos and videos of his previous vacations in Martinique.
At 11 pm I lounged on the sofa watching Desperate Housewives waiting for food. Our limited conversation stuck to the bloody strike, and papa advising me that we would still be going to the airport even if there was 90% percent of NO FLIGHT. I felt terribly lazy and the medicine I was taking slowly took effect, I felt my hair standing up to its ends and my eyelids weighing heavily down. The weight of the spoon was like tons as I laboured to taste the food. At the back of my mind there was the packing to do but let several episode of DH pass by before my eyes not really fully taking in the storylines.
I snapped off from a dream, realizing I dozed off and the time way past 2 am. Papa was lying sleeping on the sofa next to mine. I shook the dream away, and forced myself to wake up. Two luggages to pack for three people and a taxi coming to pick us up in a few hours.
It was the thought of the taxi guy that gave me strength to do it. Packing was quicker and easier than I assumed. What else could you bring in the tropics than tshirts, shorts, towels and tsinelas. Two hours later my head felt the pillows. Luckily we gained 1 hour for winter time, and that means one more hour sleep.
By 7:30 am we were all ready for the airport, the kid so excited with the luggages and us ready for the worst picture.
I found the airport calmer than I thought, although there was already a long queue for our destination. Our flight was supposed to be at 1:30 pm, we were already lining up for boarding quarter to 9 am. Papa kept on telling me not to expect that we’ll be flying. And he kept his phone line open for lola who was also on the internet ready to alert us should “CANCEL” popped out in the airline’s advisory.
Around twelve, a hostess passed to our queue and calling those who have flight reservations on the 25th, 26th and 27th. We were booked on the 28th!
At quarter to 1, the intercom rang to our ears followed by the announcement that the only Air France flight to Martinique on that day was full. A unison of frustrated moans echoed in the corridor. The confirmation has been dropped, and papa called Martinique of the bad news!
All this time, we had to entertain our 3 year old. We’ve planned things to outsmart his tantrums should it occur. But he was really a good boy. Several trips to the store displaying sinful foods helped, I found a video game place where he stayed hours on the car racing machine, although I didn’t put in any tokens, and he made friends with two kids his age and they ended up running in the corridors.
Then he asked me if I wanted some coffee! I said yes, a strong coffee would definitely help mama, and tagged my hand to buy one. Of course, in this case he was the smart one because he asked the waitress orange juice for him first!
We roam around the airport freely, and he was boisterous! He made himself the laughing stock when he started singing on top of his lungs, the French National Anthem! I heard somebody commenting “if all French know the words of the Anthem…..!” Then of course there was his “haka” displays much to the amusement of those who knew it!
He started his fuss at the last long minutes of the wait. He was hot, hungry and well, if adults were furious, how much more a three year old! When the bad news came, we started moving out, and that was when he started dropping his interrogations, questions, after questions, after questions.
“Mama why is the plane not working?”
“But mama I want to see lolo, titas, and tito!”
“But mama, the taxi is working, the train is working, the bus is working, why not the plane?”
“I do not want to go back home, we can ride the taxi, then the train!”
“Mama why are there so many police in the airport, they are scary!”
“I do not want to go home, where do we go now?!”
The taxi trip back home calmed him down, but we didn’t mention anything about going back. It was at the moment when the taxi stopped at our gate that he realized what was happening! And David dropped his bomb!
Vivre the fucking powers of the French Union! Makarma unta mo grrrr!

The trip will still happen. Papa has booked us another flight, different airline this time. We just lost 4 days of our sunny Caribbean!

It’s 9:15 pm, by this time I should be in bed with the piglet. But papa’s pc is sinfully sitting right on my face, the owner being still on his way from business meeting. Two hours ago when I called him in the train, he was approaching Brussels on the way to Paris . David, of course is tittering on his nerves watching haka on youtube. So these should be stolen few minutes. Err only if my bloody keyboard will stop putting “q” instead of “a”. Work keyboard is English, home is French, and my bloody fingers are lost in between.

What impulses me to blog tonight, which has become rarely, is the friendster message I got from my Manoy. The One and Only Manoy in my life. I miss him terribly. Thanks noy for dropping by and leaving a note, that is. Life on this side of the planet is not that brilliant. Who has now? California is burning! Turkey is preparing for something! China has launch a lunar whatever, there was explosion in Makati, I have no news from mother, and David got the sore eyes, blocked nose, and might developed into ear infection, and I’m one grumpy, tired working mother. Yes, life is like a twinkling star. Brilliant. But it has to flicker, off, on, off, on, off. And life at the moment has a lot of off which lingers on. Morag Christmas light nga nangihanglan ug recharge ang battery!

But everything is fine. I just realized putting password on my pc does not secure my files anymore. David can just put it on and type in my code so easily, like he is eating chocos. He goes directly to the internet history, click on youtube site, and type haka.

PAUSE. VERY LONG PAUSE. LIKE 24 HOURS LATER…

So I continue with the nonsense. Time check: 9:36 pm. Hot camomile tea next to my keyboard to calm down an itchy throat. Flu is threatening! I hope it won’t go full blown on the plane on the way to the Caribbean . If I get really sick, I swear I’m going to drink the whole ocean!

Last night while I was typing this, I had to force myself to stop, as the piglet started running havoc in the room. By the time I managed to put his diaper on, he still went on with his litany that he doesn’t want me, that I’m mean, that he didn’t want present from papa from Germany, that he wants nothing, nothing, nothing! He was driving me to my wits end. If it was descent time, I would have locked him in his room and let him be. But our walls have ears, and much worst arms, at sleeping time, a simple noise could echo and the next thing you know, someone is banging on the other side to keep you quiet! Bloody hell!

“Hope life is more brilliant with you der,” quoted from Manoy’s message in my friendster!

Yeah, I wish life is more brilliant than it is! My son reads The Economist and World Atlas on the toilet seat. I don’t do that! He hangs out in youtube watching All Black’s Haka, La Marsellaise ( France ’s National Anthem) and the uncut thriller horror version of Lion King. I don’t do that too!

I haven’t seen my husband for two days. I think I felt him coming to bed last night, but I dozed off like a beast. I had no idea what time he arrived from Germany , and when I woke up this morning, I swear he planted kisses on me, but my butt was still snoring. I talked to him on the phone today, telling me to wait for him tomorrow night for dinner. I thought he meant, he’ll wait for me since I’m always late from work. It’s only tonight when I called grandma, that I learned that hubby is in Portugal and that he left early morning. Bloody hell!! Shit! The snots in my nose might be melted neurons na! Pastilan, paita! I thought it was the winter cold!

Yeah, I wish life is more brilliant than it is! Last week, I survived a black Thursday and Friday! Public servants put their foot down again, putting France into a halt! There was practically no public transpo! Geez, when they strike, they strike eh! Thursday, I hitched with hubby and hanged out in his office from 7 til 9:30. That meant I had to wake up at 5:30 am and drink a litre of coffee in the span of an hour! Friday, I thought I had to brave the unstable transpo. There was one line that was normal but the queue was like kilometres! I had to let six trains pass by before a gentleman who smelt really cheap wine, like almost vinegar wine, it smelt acid in my nostrils; offered me one spot enough to plant my two feet right next to the door! Never mind where my arms and head went! Coming home was the same. I told my friend that I couldn’t breathe, and that if I collapsed no one would notice since I would still remain standing up. We were worst than pinoy sardines in a can. I was also eating someone’s pub(l)ic hair. The woman in front of me tied up her kinky hair in a pony tail, and it went straight to my mouth every time I talked. I had to tell her I was eating her hair! I got off the train not knowing where my friend went. She completely disappeared in the tide of human beings!
Yeah, I wish life is more brilliant than it is Noy! At this very moment, two tablets are taking effect and I don’t feel achy muscles anymore. My throat is still itchy. And David, ahhh, David, he is the sweetest when he sleeps! Tomorrow is David’s last day of school, it’s All Saint’s vacation that lasts for two weeks. We are flying on Sunday for Martinique to see the family. And we hope all the winter bugs will be wiped out in the tropics. So maybe Noy, in few days time, life will be more brilliant, with coconut trees on our head, and white sandy beaches on our feet!

BTW, the best way to find me is google my name, the way I googled yours and your friendster page is right on top of the search