I called up an old friend of mine last Thanksgiving Day. She was cleaning the house when I called. I should have been jumping with joy upon hearing her voice. In fact, my hands were shaking while I was talking to her. But I was inside the building, just outside of our office, and since it was beside the pantry and the comfort rooms, there were a lot of people walking this way and that.
Thanksgiving in the US is a big thing. It is a four-day weekend. And it is a truly American holiday. Everyone's busy getting home and getting in touch with family. That call I made was a gift to myself and not just to my friend. For a long, long time we were not just friends, but we were family.
I think that it is partly circumstance and partly individual fault of choice that I have not been in touch with my friends all these years. In the Philippines, they're located in Laguna, Ortigas, Makati, Bolinao, and Cebu. There are people in Canada, Oman, New Zealand, and in the United States. I hope to touch base with them through email, and soon.
Thanksgiving Day shift did have some problems, but all in all it was an okay day. It's always a great day if you're able to get to talk to a dear friend. Even if you had a cut call. That's the story of my life, the cut call.
--andoy, 29 November 2004
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