Crazy Weekend

It began at 5 AM on Friday and did not end till 10PM on Sunday. That was the crazy weekend I just had. Maybe got rewards me with great weekends so that I can feel revitalized for the coming week at work. Really, I forget what work is all about with weekends like these.

On Friday, I go early to work so that I can try and leave early. I finally get to leave at 4:30 PM. But, the traffic is so heavy on the Bay Bridge that I get home at 6:30 PM. That's right. 2 hours of stop and go madness on the roads of San Francisco. I ate about ten candies and a pack of Cheetos because of hunger. Oh, my target to get home was to try and attend the Pin@y poetry talk "Navigating Location: Pilipino Poets in the Diaspora" (that was an approximate title, mind you. Remember, I did not make it to the talk) at UC Berkeley. The panelists were Nick Carbo, Luis Francia and Patrick Rosal . The panel was organized by Barbara Reyes.

So, I finally get home, and I ask myself, how am I going to meet these poets? Heck, I want to see them. Folks, here's a lesson for you. If you are trying to meet the poets, the poets have to eat dinner!!! That's right! I asked the SO to inform me where they are going to dinner so I can just meet up with them. And you know the great thing about it? We ended up in an Ethiopian restaurant called The Blue Nile.

A bottle of honeywine was passed around at the table as the conversation zigzagged from boxing, to Formalism, to colonialism, to VirgilioAlmario, to poetry grants, to academia. I dined with five of the leading poets in the world that night. And I am sure that since there was wine at the table, the Chatelaine's spirit was also dining and cackling like her angels.

To say the least, it is a night like that which makes life worth leading. To hear poets say what is in their heart and minds is joyous. To hear their thoughts and their fears. To sense their joy and their prayer for future. It is great to hear it from people in general. But with poets, the romance comes out because of the precise nature of their word choice.

The only way it would have been better is if the Chatelaine were present. She would have blogged about it and noted how all the sexual innuendoes flew around the room.