Friday night lying on Freedom Park and under the stars

So far:

* Number of times I ate balat ng manok this week: 2
* Number of times I bought and ate Dewberry cookies: too many to mention
* Number of times I sighed today: 0, because all I did was shove food into my mouth
* Number of friends at friendster list: 31
* The money in my wallet: 600 pesos (ha!)
* Level of enthusiasm to handle class today: average

Bopis and 'needles (because his blogger name is just too long) proposed that as part of the 'Ten Things to Do Before Our Asses Get Kicked Out of Work', we should sleep outside our houses. Except that they wanted the 'outside' to be at Flat Rocks. No way, I said. I proposed that we sleep at Freedom Park. There would, however, be the problem of dodging the UPF people. Oh heck, I've already dodged them before, while withstanding biting mosquitoes. Ha!

I realized that I have several pending stories to tell in my blog. However, as it is already March and most of them took place last month, it might be a wee bit too late to tell them. Or even if I tell them anyway, it would have none of the excitement as when I would probably have posted it a day or two after the event.

But since durga has been egging me to tell the more recent major event in life, I shall acquiesce.

I had my US visa interview last March 1, a Monday. Had two arduous weeks trying to get all the necessary documents ready. Ran into trouble with someone in the department over my travel permit, for reasons I would rather not discuss here anymore. I was asked to be an hour early at the US Embassy at Roxas Boulevard (ah yes, the favorite target for red-paint-throwing and demonstrations) for preliminary instructions and procedures. Started waiting for my 1:30 interview by 1 pm. Waited for an hour. Meanwhile the lounge was starting to fill with people, SRO by 1:30. It was only around 2 pm that the PA system announced my name. Around ten of us were lined up behind the dividers. One girl went before me. Her interview lasted around four or five minutes. Then my turn.

A rough recollection of my interview: (Note: the consul who interviewed me was around 25-30 yrs old, male, around 5"8 and white)
Consul: You're Amy Colanta?
Amy: Yes.
C: Why are you going to the United States?
A: To present a paper
C: Where are you presenting your paper?
A: At the University of Vermont.
C: What's your paper about?
A: About narrative theory.
C: What's narrative theory?
A: It's essentially about how we tell and construct stories, whatever they may be.
C: Could you tell me more about it"
A: I'm applying narrative theory to the study of the fiction of Italo Calvino, this dead Italian writer. (By this time, I already showed them my conference invite.)
C: Do you have bank statements with you?
A: Yes. (Goes to show consul 'show money' bank certification from BPI.)
C: (Glances at certification) What's this?
A: It's an ATM account. I don't have a passbook for that. (Mental note: Duh, like yeah.)
C: Do you have any assets to show?
A: Here the passbook to a joint account between me and my mom.
C: (Scans through zero-laden passbook) Any others?
A: Yes. (Proceeds to hand him my vehicle registration)