Death By Calamari

With a greasy, vinegary smile on her lips, Joie found her way to her next existence. She met her new beginning choking on a piece of calamari dusk of Tuesday. She lived with a passion for street food, she breathed her last in pursuit of this very passion. She is survived by her 9 cats, 3 sisters, one mother, and some guy who vowed to bring a ginormous can of M.Y. San Animal Biscuits to the a party in her honor, which she will attend in a horizontal stance. It is believed that she requested that the giraffe biscuits be set aside as a tribute. In lieu of flowers, donations to a trust fund put up for her orphaned felines would be much appreciated.

***

Today, I thought I would die. By squid.

I don't remember the last meal I had. It must have been gum or non-fat milk. I tend to be less pleasant when famished. Way less pleasant. I abandon my manners and regard for safety. Manongs with hammers in their bags were waiting for the next batch of calamari. I have a uterus for a good reason - to get ahead of them in getting the fresh, backstroking in god-knows-how-many-times-recycled oil slivers of squid. Love. Come near me, get your stick near me, and you'll meet a spattery end.

So I dunk my catch in a tub of spicy vinegar. Dan says, the more opaque, the better. Elation. This is life - the best things are bad for the heart. Munch. Munch-munch again.

One stray tentacle. I chew away. I know my face was shifting color. Go for the gulaman. Two- thirds through, and the tentacle won't go down. It was fighting my gagging reflex. To spit or to swallow. I never thought that my life would depend on this choice. The chunk was too big. I was praying that someone nearby knew how to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

My tongue wiggled and wagged and felt weak but I won't give up to a tentacle. I was in tears. I had those cliched near-death visions. I wondered what nice things they'd have to invent to say of me, or which, if any, of my exes would come and play mahjong. I don't know how long the duel lasted, but I was back for air before a crowd had gathered around me.

Yes, two feet are better than eight. I won.

***

Things to be thankful for even if I died today:

1.) Bouncy locks, unshampooed hair. Free curling iron demo at Watsons.

2.) My cats will be loved and fed and de-liced.

3.) We didn't have a spat on my last day.

4.) I didn't watch "And I Love You So."

5.) Will die in decent underwear - I was wearing a Victoria's Secret bra.

6.) Carb fest with my better friends the night before.

7.) I finally told THAT secret to Joy (and she loves me still).

8.) I am loved. Very much so.

9.) I'd find a way to have that Wednesday breakfast at Jollibee. I know I will.

***

The best part of my life is this - it will only get better.