So while the latest in typhoon technology was challenging the strength of your rooftop last night, I was high up in San Mateo, Rizal attending the wake of my BFF's sister-in-law. That's where I learned of one of the most impressive ghost stories ever.

See, the sis-in-law gave birth to a beautiful baby girl last Wednesday; the midwife in charge, who was also the resident birth master, however, was not competent enough to keep the mother alive and even rushed her to the farthest available hospital, bypassing two others.

Thus, the gloomy event Saturday early morning.

Turns out Friday that a neighbor of the family suddenly received a text message from an unknown number saying "Don't let just anyone handle the baby. Take care of her." Unlike the rest of us who would immediately reply with a FCUK OFF, the neighbor was mystified, knowing that it might have something to do with the dead-next-door. She tried calling the number only to be answered by a distressed woman who just hung up. Finally, she relayed the message and the number to the brother of my BFF.

The husband now tried calling this phone; this time, the owner just ignored him. He tried texting, going "Were you the one who texted that we take care of the baby? Was it our baby that you were talking about?" The mystery texter just replied "oh, I don't know what you're talking about, I'm sorry."

Then he saw that that same number was already in his Sent Messages folder. Apparently, his prepaid load-deprived brother had been using his phone to text his friend directions to their house deep in San Mateo. That's when he realized that the cellphone number was mine.

Amid the heavy rainfall and the lack of cellphone signal later that evening, a friend and I arrived at the wake.