Sense of belonging...

I blended well. In my jeans. Amazing!

I’m talking about last night. We got invited to Sen. Ed Angara’s book launching. Or, to be technically correct, to the launching of Sen. Angara’s biography written by Nick Joaquin — one of his last works before he died. And to be more correct still, the invitations were actually for our editor-in-chief, Doc Raffy, and contributing editor, Ms. Roselle who wrote the article on Senator Angara for last month’s cover feature. But Doc Raffy is in Chicago and Ms. Roselle is in Singapore.

We were working on tight schedule. Up until last night, I was still writing an article for the magazine. But it was imperative that someone from our team would attend the event. I knew it had to be me and Chie. So we went, an hour late (Geee, they started an hour late, too, so it seemed we arrived just in time. He he.)

It was a political-social event, that much I knew. I had expected many dignitaries to be there. I was not wrong. There were GMA, Sen. Villar, Cong. Joe de V., and many others.

But I was wrong for thinking that I would not feel okay being in a politician-dominated event. I felt alright. In fact, I felt I belonged, despite the facts that I was not properly dressed for the occasion and, more importantly, that I hate politics, and politicians aren’t my favorite hang-out buddies.