IT'S THE NEXT SIX YEARS, I MUST BE IN . . . LONDON!

Mabuhay, I say!

Yes, the LLDD is finally at post in beautiful, sunny . . . (check that) . . . dreary and drizzly . . . (hold on) . . . cold and windy . . . (oh, come on!) . . . back to beautiful, sunny London!

(Wow. They weren't kidding about that whole "Four Seasons in a Day" thing.)

It's been a hectic, unsettled couple of days here in Brittania. Fortunately, everyone at the Embassy - and, yes, all of the locals - have been so nice and helpful that our uprooting and transfer has gone as pleasantly as possible. Once again, the LLDD-Hyphen-L and I have been blessed with the greatest of circumstances, and nothing it seems could possibly ruin our arriva . . .

Bloody hell.

FIRST SATURDAY

The LLDD-Hyphen-L was, of course, pumped for the trip. She showed no signs of jet-lag after the 16-hour flight . . .



. . . quickly surveying upon our arrival our new surroundings from the window of our temporary flat in Chelsea . . .

. . . and immediately zeroing in on the essentials.

Secure in the knowledge the nearest Zara is just a five-minute walk away, the LLDD-Hyphen-L settles back at the flat, discovers "Britain's Got Talent".

Hello to you too, London!

FIRST SUNDAY

Ye Olde Church Search

Ah, yes, the challenge for every Filipino travelling on a weekend: finding a place of worship. The LLDD-Hyphen-L and I were told there was a Catholic church in a nearby place called Brompton. Using my excellent map-reading skills (developed over hours of "Warcraft"), I spotted two possible sites. The first was a chapel at the far end of a cemetery where, despite the presence of ancient crypts and coffins, the LLDD-Hyphen-L was more freaked out by the squirrels. The chapel was closed (just as well, because the squirrels seemed to be eyeballing us), so we headed around the town towards the second possible location, one with a high bell tower visible from afar. After a long walk, we were relieved to arrive at the church . . .

. . . and find out it isn't Catholic. (very pretty, though.)

We decide to head into the city and take our chances there. The LLDD-Hyphen-L had had enough of my navigation incompetence (and the trailing squirrels).

Oh. Hey. The Place Where I'll Be Working for the Next Six Years. Or Less.

Again, because of my precision planning, our first trip into the inner city coincided with a little something called the London Marathon, complete with the screaming throngs, road detours and tube station closures. What was supposed to be a simple commute turned into a clueless, circuitous journey around and under London. The silver lining: we stumbled upon...The Embassy! My new place of work! So this is what it feels like to be on the "Amazing Race" and actually find the pit stop without being the last team to arrive!

(only Phil Keoghn isn't there to receive you because it's, you know, a Sunday, and places be closed)

First Time for Everything

Ok, we now know (by accident) where my home base will be. Now, where's everything else? With the marathon ongoing, the LLDD-Hyphen-L and I have little choice but to go with the flow of the crowd and see where that takes us. This actually turns out to be a good thing as we get our first views of many of the great London scenes and landmarks. Among our many firsts:

First glimpse of Big Ben (initial impression: jaw-droppingly beautiful; and quote Sabretooth to Wolverine, "ooh, shiny!" [seriously, I did not know Big Ben had that much gold trimming])

First glimpse of "The Eye" (initial impression: for something so big, it jumps out of nowhere; kinda like Cloverfield)

First glimpse of Downing Street (initial impression: are tourists supposed to be able to get that close?)


First Picture of the LLDD-Hyphen-L with a Horse (initial impression: she can stand next to a huge horse, but is freaked out by squirrels?)

First Picture-Picture to be Ruined by Someone Walking Through our Shot (initial impression: Itsura mo!)

First...ahem...Unobstructed View of Parliament (initial impression: apparently, the front of Parliament is the place to hold rallies and demonstrations; unsolicited advice: don't hold your rallies and demonstrations on the same day and venue as the London marathon -- the rallyists went largely unnoticed among the thousands of race spectators, while the runners were left wondering why some people were cheering them on with "U.N., U.N., take action now!" chants. Really, it was just confusing for everyone.

First view of Westminster Abbey (initial impression: very nice, not unlike the front of San Sebastian; and isn't there also a Westminster Cathedral?; the LLDD-Hyphen and I might actually be close to finding ourselves a church)

First Picture of a Guy Dressed as a Toilet (initial impression: a guy. is dressed. like a toilet)

Pssst! Still Looking for a Church?

Continuing down the closed off roads, we stumble upon Westminster Cathedral. Why, this will do nicely!

It even has a very high viewtower with - and this is important in old British buildings - an elevator! (oh, excuse me, lift)

In case my video voice-over wasn't clear, we were looking out of the east side of the view tower, where we got our first far-off glimpses of: A) Buckingham Palace (initial impression: can't . . .get . . . clear . . . view . . . must . . . not . . . stretch . . . too . . . far . . . fall . . . off . . . viewtower);

and B) "The Gherkin" (initial impression: seems to stand out in the city as a worthy foe for "The Eye", like Mothra was to Godzilla; my money's on "Gherkin") . . .

I'LL CALL IT AN APARTMENT IF I WANT TO, DAMMIT

Newly posted foreign service personnel have just a few days to find a more permanent place to live before being kicked out of their hotel, so most of the week following our arrival was spent shuttling between work and viewing assorted flats to let (called "apartments for rent" in the U.S., or "wanted bedspacer" in Libertad).

After a week of cris-crossing the city, looking at all sorts of flats, lusting at the can't-afford places and grovelling for the can-afford ones, bidding, being out-bid, and then bidding some more, the LLDD-Hyphen-L and I finally ended up getting . . . the very first flat we saw. It's a modest-sized space, but in a great neighborhood (that I like to call "Cheese Whiz") and with a pretty view of a park and an old church.

(OK, fine, the buses stop right outside our window, but once the light turns green and they move on, there's a view, I tell you)

And one of the great selling points of the flat: it came furnished with sofas, a TV and - most joyously - hanging capiz shell lamps that I'm 99% certain came from the Philippines!

Finally, moving in day is efficiently executed, with me on my moblie taking care of the plans. . .

. . . and the LLDD-Hyphen-L carrying it out.

Welcome to London!

THE SEVEN STAGES OF POSTING

Disclosure time: I'm about to be posted! Like, tomorrow!!! Certainly a significant, meaningful occasion in the LLDD household, although I must say -- having seen every other batchmate and countless personnel assigned abroad -- people at the Home Office are not as cool and routinely nonchalant about their postings as I thought they'd be. No, postings here involve as much trepidation and elaborate planning as a rebel trying to escape from Hoth (only with more signatures required to actually leave).

Anyway, a quick guide through the process.

"The ASEAN Summit will create a distraction, allowing the FSOs to escape through the imperial blockade, got it?"

1. Shock/Disbelief - You know you're in the foreign service to be assigned abroad, yet when news of your posting does come down, it feels like a soap opera-slap. Suddenly, everything seems likes its on fast forward. To make matters worse in my case, my posting preparations had to run alongside my wedding preparations. It was like having TWO "24"-clock sound effects counting down in the background.

"Dammit, Chloe, there's no time to get 19 signatures for the Travel Order clearance AND select the entree menu!"

2. Personal Affairs Prepping - All those little things you've been putting off for so long suddenly pile-up and demand immediate attention. So many personal status reports to file, so little time. I must have reported, for instance, my marriage to something like nine different departments. The LLDD-Hyphen-L, on the other hand, enjoyed every second of her office tagging me as her new "dependent".

They may as well have stamped "Kept Man"

3. Uprooting - More difficult than you'd imagine, not just because of the emotions involved, but also because your household junk seems to have mated and exponentially multiplied over the years. I still have no idea why I found five wallclocks in my tiny old studio apartment.

If you look closely, you can see the desk lamp humping the oven toaster.

4 . Sudden-Onset Cheapness - The high cost of relocation is aggravated by the realization that everything costs much, much more abroad. Thus, in the last few days before your departure, you find yourself scrounging around for every bargain, discount and freebie. Among the must-have's: haircuts from relatives.

Now, if my sister could also do dental work and lasik surgery, I'd be set

5. Rising Nationalism - As an "ambassador" of your country abroad, you can't be soft or back down from anyone. You have to represent, dammit! Now, some diplomats would be happy with just bringing a few barongs and a couple of Yabang Pinoy bracelets to Post. True thug gangstas like me, however, go to the extreme and get Sun and Stars tatoos from the seediest parlors in Manila.

OK, it was actually face-painting during a kiddie birthday party at Max's Chicken, but still totally bad ass I think.

um...Grr.

6. Feeling Jet-Set - But of course the LLDD-Hyphen-L had to get new girlie-red luggage. And of course she had to walk it through the length of SM during the Sunday afternoon rush while it was still wrapped in plastic.

"Outta my way! I have diplomatic immunity against ankles run over!"

7. Despedi-days - Talk about long goodbyes. As news of your impending departure spreads, you get a steady stream of invitations to and requests for farewell pakains, many from groups and sub-groups you haven't heard from in a while. I haven't been such the center of attention since my wedding (and only then because of the rub-off effect from the LLDD-Hyphen-L =).

"Look, ma! It's like I have friends!"

So where am I being posted? Well, most everyone in the Department already knows, but to those out there who don't, I'll just leave a little hint: the zombie apocalypse may be a problem.

"Why, of why, did I ever want to leave the Home Office?"

GIRL OF MY FANTASIES

At the end of another season of the MetroManilaBalls Fantasy League, top prize went to CRANIAL AGAIN. Again. Dammit. Simply nothing could dislodge him from the number one spot (although thanks to the North Koreans for trying to distract him with a missile launch).

The big story, however, is the dramatic, last-day runner-up finish of...(drumroll please)...THE LLDD-HYPHEN-L!!!

That's right, sweetie took second place, the first female ever to finish on the podium, soundly beating three former champions and four current FSOs in the process. I swear, there's no woman with a better hotness-to-Basketball I.Q. ratio than her. Damn right, I'm proud. To paraphrase Obama, "How much of a couch potato's fantasy is my wife!"



The LLDD-Hyphen-L, of course, was classy and graceful in her victory message board post: "OMG!!!....umm...how/where do i start? so this is how jennifer hudson felt when she won her 1st oscar and grammy awards! out of breath... out of words... out of... hey, wait a minute! where is my T-R-O-P-H-Y??? i want my trophy, now na! commish??? commish!!!"

(Yes, those "OMG" and Jennifer Hudson/Oscar/Grammy references will surely resonate with every guy who plays fantasy sports. My wife's breaking barriers, I'm telling you)

Indeed, this is just such a happy, historic moment, let's not mention anymore that the LLDD-Hyphen-L has beaten me - Commissioner of MetroManilaBalls - two out of the three years that she's been part of the league. Or that in my first ever Champions League (made up of winning managers from all over the world), I finished...dead last.

Just goes to show that in Fantasy, as in real life, we should all just listen to the wife.

CAN'T SPELL "APRIL FOOLS" WITHOUT "FSO"

Oh, those pranksters at Personnel Administration! Such cards! First, they schedule the oathtaking of the newest batch of cadets...on April 1! This of course won't affect the cadets' legitimacy as FSO IVs, but from now on, as they move through the bureaucracy, everyone who sees their appointment papers will glance up and snicker, "Yeah, right."

They were probably also told FSO life is all cocktail parties, glamour and rainbows. Suckers.

Then, Personnel announces out of the blue that my batchmates and I have been promoted to FSO III (legally pronounced "FSO Threeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, baby!!!"), and that we had to take new oaths, pronto. All well and good, except: a) we were expecting the announcement a couple of months earlier; and b) the announcement was made on the last day before the long Holy Week holidays, i.e., when the de facto Home Office dress code was already set to "awkward casual".

Thus, "Amazing Grace" (the only other batch-member not yet posted, and the one most responsible for pressuring Personnel to carry out the promotions) and I had to go on a mad last-working-day search for oath-appropriate attire. For her part, "Amazing Grace" essentially disrobed our kind, motherly Admin Officer (who was then left to hide and cower in her office because, as she put it, "wala na akong karapatan mag-sleeveless!"). On my end, I scavenged an old skinny tie, then accosted the office-new guy "Ozymandias" and relieved him of his black blazer. The problem: "Ozymandias" is almost half my size, so the blazer was short and skin-tight, bunched up at the forearms, and had a collar that kept popping up -- just like an 80's Jojo Alejar jacket.

Normally, that would be a good thing.

As much as I wanted to be promoted to FSO III dressed as one of The Tigers, it simply wasn't practical: I couldn't raise my hand above my shoulder and assume the oath-taking position without ripping the back of the blazer. So an emergency call was made to our protocol office to break out the emergency formal wear. When was the last time this was done? I don't really know, but I can tell you the jacket given to me smelled of Elmer's Glue and, more disturbingly, had a pair of black spandex underpants rolled up in the front pocket.

Which is a serious diplomatic faux pas because, as everyone knows, spandex underpants should be white before Labor Day. (unless the spandex underpants were white at the start; in which case, ew.)

But time was running out in the day, so I still donned the emergency blazer and hurriedly took my oath as FSO III, side by side with "Amazing Grace". At the end of it all, I was thoroughly happy, filled with a renewed sense of service, duty, and confidence in mixing a blue blazer with brown pants.

Not seen in picture: the renewed sense of alcogel handwashing to get rid of black spandex underpants smell

WHY WE DO IT

Why do we do it?

Why do we go off to remote places and faraway lands?

Why do we separate ourselves from our friends and family?

Why do we work longer hours for lesser pay?

Why do we put ourselves in harm's way?

Why do we take on the world's troubles?



We do it . . .



Because service is its own reward.

Because there's always someone out there in need.

Because we're ready and able to face the world's toughest challenges.

Because we want to help.



We also do it. . .





Because of the unexpected bathroom privileges.

Because if the wife ever falls in love with a Zara blouse but can't find one in her size, there's a network of batchmates around the world you can e-mail to help hunt the thing down: "I'm never to busy to help you with your Zara emergency!!!! NEVER TOO BUSY FOR SHOPPPING! So if (she) needs more Zara clothes...feel free to send requests. : ) You never know how happy you made me with that request. hahahaha!"

And we do it because . . .


. . . maybe . . .


. . . just maybe . . .









The cast of "Bubble Gang" will visit your post.





Any more questions?


Didn't think so.

FSO MANNY PACQUIAO FACTS

On the occasion of Chuck Norris' 69th birthday, a fellow FSO forwarded to me the comprehensive list of Chuck Norris Facts. Needless to state, I peed in my pants laughing. When I finally dried myself off, I decided to have some fun and try my hand at a few, but limiting the references to diplomacy and foreign relations. Because Chuck Norris would have wanted me to.

My original intent was to come up with more Norris diplo-facts, forward them to a couple of other FSOs, and hope they'd get on the Chuck wagon and add a couple of their own. But then it occurred to me: we're Philippine diplomats, dammit! We can't be promoting Walker Texas Ranger! Surely there's a Filipino who can equally kick ass, rock the 'stache and bring the awesome!

Behold, then: Manny Pacquiao DFA facts!

(If some of these seem too obscure, remember: there are no inside jokes; just humor Manny Pacquiao gets and you don't)

• If Manny Pacquiao were an ASEAN country, there would be no more principle of non-intervention; there would still be, however, the principle of consensus -- his.
• Manny Pacquiao could topple a Regime of Islands.
• Manny Pacquiao's passport photo is always the right shade of royal blue.
• Manny Pacquiao's First Person Notes are in the third.
• The Senate needs Manny Pacquiao's confirmation.
• Manny Pacquiao avails of the shipping container AND the 50%.
• Manny Pacquiao needs only two pillars of foreign policy: his left and right fists.
• Manny Pacquiao can tell diplomats to go to hell such that they look forward to the trip.
• Mexico set up an Assistance-to-Nationals desk to help out Manny Pacquiao's victims.
• A fair fight for Manny Pacquiao is ASEAN, Plus Three.
• Manny Pacquiao sued the U.S. for copyright infringement; "Visiting Forces" are what he's always called his left and right jabs.
• Manny Pacquiao can read an e-passport.
• Manny Pacquiao cannot assure Your Excellency of his highest esteem and consideration.
• There is no Exclusive Economic Zone, just the 200 nautical miles countries need to stay away from Manny Pacquiao.
• Manny Pacquiao will make you say ARF like a dog.
• Manny Pacquiao picks his teeth with those fixers' sticks.
• Manny Pacquiao is so fast the Home Office is still not sure if he made a personal appearance for his passport or not.
  
• Manny Pacquiao laughs at your Full Powers.
• Protocol is defined as behavior so wussy Manny Pacquiao doesn't bother to kick its ass.
• Manny Pacquiao recalled the Home Office.

By the stockings of Dela Hoya, that was fun to make!!!

No, Manny. Para sa 'yo.

NOW THIS IS A FACEBOOK STATUS UPDATE!....UPDATED!

Bells rang, birds sang, the sun shone, friends laughed, children played, families dined, the LLDD-Hyphen-L glowed, and I proved once and for all that Star Wars fans can know the touch of a woman.

It was a beautiful day.

To everyone who was there, our heartfelt thanks. To those who weren't, so help me if your gift isn't on the way yet I will hog-tie and force you to look through a staggering amount of wedding albums and baby pictures the next time we meet.

Until then, enjoy:

The Pre-Nup Pictures

From Sketch to Storage, The Evolution of Gown

The "Lost" Homemade Slideshow that Didn't Get Played Because of Technical Difficulties

The Onsite Photo Feature that Y'all Get to Enjoy for Free but which We're Hoping Marie Claire will Pay Us One Million For

The "Bonus" Wedding Video that Wasn't Really Part of Our Coverage Package but We Like to Think Still Got Made Because We Were Such a Hot Couple.

The Too-Cute-For-Words Fil-Aussie Flower Girl Pretending to Sing Along with the Tagalog Offertory Song

All the Guests' Partypics Souvenir Photos

Honeymooners' Pics Where We Could Only Look Happier if We Wore Matching-Themed outfits like Koreans

Gratuitous Bikini Pics of the LLDD-Hyphen-L, for those of You Out There I Just Know are Wedding-to-Engagement Backcounting

And, of course, a Little Something for the Ladies