Letter to 23

23,

Do you remember yesterday when I stayed up until midnight just to watch you go? It reminded me of the poignant airport scene where two friends wave goodbyes to each other before going their separate ways, uncertain if they will ever see each other again. In our case, we won't, and this is a hard goodbye. That's why I'm writing to you to mark the occasion.

Oftentimes when two friends know that it's their last day together, they would try their best to make it a memorable one. One way they do this is by going to places that meant something to them. Another way is to go somewhere they've never been to before so that they can for one last day savor the joy of discovery. Unfortunately for yesterday, none of this was possible. We had to attend someone's wedding, and you know very well that that's an experience I don't enjoy (except if it's MY wedding, which you did not bless me with, but that's okay). 

You also know that I don't like it, not because I am jealous of other's successes, and not because I hate mushy whatever-there-is's (though I tolerate only certain extents of it). I like seeing people at peace and in love with each other, and what has happened is indeed a blessing for yesterday's bride and groom. I don't like attending weddings because, specifically, I don't like the traditional wedding banquets. Yesterday's was no exception.

Remember that? Looking back, a lot of unintentionally funny things happened, although they're the kind of "funny" that infuriates more than amuses. Let's start with the edible stuff they're trying to pass off as food. 23, if it won't burden you much, please pass a message to people who you are connected to. If they're non-vegetarians, ask them to be vegetarians. And if they're already vegetarians, tell them to avoid asking seafood restaurant chefs to prepare their foods. We vegetarians don't eat meat because of health issues and/or animal compassion. Just because we have an extent of asceticism does not mean that we don't enjoy great-tasting foods.

For some reasons, chefs of seafood restaurants believe that vegetarians enjoy gastronomic torture. And so what they do every time - believe me, it's not just yesterday - is they just sauté vegetables that do not even go well with one another, and then cram overwhelming number of mushrooms to hide just how bland-tasting their preparations are. I must've eaten more mushrooms yesterday than the Super Mario Brothers do in all their games. Eating these foods is like cramming your stomach with the residual "soup" from Del Monte's canned fruits. Needless to say, that does not feel so good.

Oh, and what's a wedding banquet without the generic schmaltzy "love ballads" from Jim Brickman, David Pomeranz, or Barry Manilow? Good thing only a few of them were played yesterday, and we didn't have to endure some lazy ass "jazz" of "Careless Whispers", "It Might Be You" or "My Heart Will Go On" with soprano sax's overdubbing the original instrumentations. So what do we get instead? Some kitschy "Bossa Nova" renditions of "I Didn't Know I Was Looking For Love" (and similar songs) sung by fastfood divas who "honor" Astrud Gilberto in their liner notes but don't know how to sing like her (and if you've ever seen them live, watch out for those trumpeters or saxophonists who tilt their hat, slick back their hair and wear smug expressions to look like Frank Sinatra. Ugh). Bland music gives bland foods added depths of blandness.

And was it noisy! Gee, we must've been in a room with a lot of frustrated percussionists, what with all the spoon-to-glass banging that happens every 5 seconds. And how could we forget the SUCKAZ EMCEE, who cannot deliver a speech without being trite, evidenced from his lame-o Romeo and Juliet to his Ivanhoe-found-his-love (!) analogy. How come none of these zzz-rate wedding emcees realizes that Romeo and Juliet died an untimely death? Talk about trying to deliver a good omen. I'm also very curious about what particular girl Ivanhoe "married". If only the emcee tried even harder to sound literate, perhaps he may claim that Ivanhoe's "damsel" is, who, Dulcinea? Remember that time, 23? We were so embarrassed, that we left the room for 20 full minutes. 

Although the banquet was mediocre, we were happy about the newlyweds. They are terrific, and they deserve each other. Yesterday began a new phase of their lives, and though I won't claim this event to be as grand as theirs, 24's arrival today also begins a new phase for me.

23, we had a lot of good times. We went to Boracay. We took up web design. We saved money. We read a lot of great books. We created a new blog and earned a few new readers. We solved cases with Phoenix Wright (Do I hear you saying "Just what the hell are Harry Potter, Star Wars and Transformers"?).  We met new friends. We learned of who cherishes us and who doesn't. We watched Death Note. We saw Riza Santos and drooled. We listened to Gil Scott-Heron and cried. We contributed to the society the best we can. We gave gifts and learned what a wonderful deed that is. And I'm sure we did a lot of things I haven't enumerated here.

So I will miss you. I only hope that you can also grace other's lives with your presence, and grant them an important year. I will remember the important lessons you and all that came before you have taught, as I embrace 24 in hopes of growing wiser and living younger.

Gil Scott-Heron - I Think I'll Call It A Morning