It's weird. Ever since I turned 30 I made it a point to celebrate my birthday out of town. It's my first time to celebrate it out of country, away from JC, friends, and family (and by family I meant family of JC and a few friends' family). I have no idea what to do tomorrow but I'd really love to treat myself. Perhaps I'd finally allow myself a fancy meal (missing good Japanese meal badly!) or a slice of cake or finally watch Civil War if I find a cinema playing it with Spanish subtitles instead of it being dubbed. All these I have to do in the first half of the day before my cleaning duty starts in the place where I'm currently volunteering.
Or I could walk again to my favourite, secret park in Malecon. Sit, stare at the sea. Mull over what I'm doing with my life, map out my next route, agonise about money, give thanks for everything.
Despite all the fears - founded or unfounded - I don't think I would change a thing about my recent decisions in life. Except maybe that time I still went, for the THIRD time, and typed an incorrect PIN code on my ATM card. I'd probably still have that card with me today.