On a fine day, hanging out at Likha-Diwa for dinner and talk and dessert is all I can ask for. It would have cheered me up, especially after seeing a pinoy cinematic treasure in awful condition. Then there wasn't a single Ikot jeep in sight. A trio of foreigner dudes I had nodding acquiantance with walked by. Had I known they were also going there, I would have volunteered to walk with them. Half an hour later, I get a seat by the veranda. But when one has too much happy food and not a soul to share it with, it turns into indigestion. All I could do was squeeze myself in a cab and hope for a quiet ride home. But the cabbie wanted some conversation going. I usually don't mind.

cabbie: Hey miss, you live a long way away from Diliman. It should be hell if you commute everyday.

Please don't talk to me when I'm *queasy.* I know it sounds antipatica. But please. Just please.