If to read is to feed the soul, mine is to write. --annedj.p

love advice, anyone?

2011-08-22T14:24:00.000-07:00

sample love/dating advice columns for a job position i never got into.

In this world of almost seven billion people, it really isn’t surprising why men and women find it downright difficult if not impossible to find their respective partners. Sometimes, we wish it was as easy as drawing a name out of a raffle box but if you think about it really hard, it’s actually the search that makes the wait worthwhile. Immersing yourself in the dating scene exposes you to a whole bunch of people that would eventually create a mindset of what you want and what you don’t want in your future partner. Take your time finding the right fit.

---

What’s ironic in today’s world is that despite the rising number of singles out there, people still find it hard to meet people. Truth is, the moment you stick your foot out your doorway, you already come in contact with people— people you never pay attention to but may have always been noticing you. Sometimes you just have to unlimit yourself of the possible ways to meet someone. It’s not always a tale of a prince and a princess meeting at a gala. Sometimes, you can bump into someone at a local car shop and have the most romantic fairytale ever.

---

In our desperate attempt to catch the attention of the person we desire the most, we often mask our true selves with the persona of someone we think this person would fall for— a drastic move that pushes us into a staged, unhappy life. A real relationship entails honesty. Pretensions will only lead to self destruction and a disguised person will only receive a love as deceiving as his/herself. Why would you want to be in a relationship when you know you will never be enough for the other person? Recognizing your self worth is always imperative to finding true love.

The Black Saturday Rip Off

2011-04-25T17:36:00.000-07:00

How I ended up at a casino on a Black Saturday is still a blur…

(There has to be an antagonist in this story, I need someone to blame.)

The weekend was well-planned out. It was all about family time. Eat, easter egg hunt, eat, steal the kids’ chocolates, eat some more. Simple.

In family gatherings such as this one, poker night is a must. It is important to note that during these times, the husband— despite his complete poker get up: earphones, shades, unflustered concentration and all— loses. (Sorry love, fact). However, on that Friday night… he won. As if by divine intervention, he actually won! He felt invincible and kept rambling that he was bursting with luck therefore-he-must-use-it-before-it-runs-out.

“My hands are hot love… you know when my hands are hot! It means I’m lucky!!! I gotta go, love! I gotta go!!!”

Black Jack is his specialty and well… he did win big in Vegas about two years back despite my screeching attempt to stop him from betting. It would be useless to stop him now and it really didn’t help that Thunder Valley is only 15 minutes away.

So the very next day, he managed to smooth-talk the (very easy to give in) brother to go with him. I was quite sure I said I was gonna stay with Marco and just let the boys be boys. But a few minutes later, I found myself on the backseat of Kuya Mike’s bimmer (that’s the correct spelling; beemer is actually a term for motorcycles), sitting beside his very excited wife, Lea. I did expect to bond with her at some point but never at a casino.

They all seem eager while I was still convincing myself that it will be okay. I am uptight by nature and very, very thrifty. My idea of fun is window shopping— looking at stuff I know I can buy but prefer not to. It gives me a sense of being rich b*tch but responsible at the same time.

So there we were, spending the first 30 minutes driving around, looking for a bank. Maybe at the back of my mind I was hoping we wouldn’t find one so we could just head home-safe-home. But I knew the odds were pulling us towards Thunder Valley when Kuya Mike found a much easier way to awaken our sleeping account… a drive-thru ATM machine.

Moment of truth— as we entered the casino, the first thing that greeted me was smoke. (Ack! Can’t turn back now).

The husband and the brother knew where to go. Immediately, they were on separate tables, ripping off the dealer’s cash. (Or the other way around).

Lea and I drifted off towards slot-machine-wonderland. Those blasted thief machines! They stole my 20 bucks easy. Crying inside, I got up and walked away, ending up at a coffee place— an iced white mocha would help alleviate the pain.

While savoring my coffee, I spotted the husband playing one on one with a dealer. I noticed a lot of red chips on him and I thought, “Way to go! Take that, suckers!” I didn’t want to jinx him so I strayed away, sat down in front of a huge TV screen that showed the Giants playing against the Braves, 5-1. Not a lucky day for both the Giants and I.

About five minutes later, the husband walked towards me— the smile on his face said something was up. Then the kiss. Uh-oh.

I just had to ask. “Where’s the chips??”

The smile.

Okay… “Where is it????”

“I lost.”

Blank. “Where’s the chips??”

“There’s none.”

“Huh? Where is it?”

“Love, I lost.”

Still not processing… “In your pocket.”

Frustrated, “Wala nga.”

Processing… processing… my eyes widened …and that was it. The very moment I knew I was right. I should have stayed with the easter eggs!

He must have known the disaster that was coming so he dragged me out. Good thing the coffee was expensive or I would have dropped it on the floor. Instead, I shoved it to him— he would definitely need the caffeine.

Meanwhile, Kuya Mike and Lea were still enjoying themselves, oblivious of the brewing war between me and the thief machines. I had to go back in there and reclaim what was once mine!

Stomped on the buttons repeatedly. There was a lady beside me asking help with her machine but I didn’t flinch. The war was on. I was there for a while, determined to take home the prize when suddenly, the phone rang. A wake up call. Kuya Mike and Lea were ready to leave.

Darn it. Thunder Valley robbed me.

Here is a seriously important point that I would like to make— let’s not go there again. Please?

These sonnuvaguns exploit man’s one weakness— the desire for instant fortune.

Their principle is to make a person feel that he’s in control… to make that person believe that he’s winning so he’ll keep on going… escalating to larger bets. Then in a blink, the situation intentionally reverses. Money gone. Bye-bye. It’s not a game of chance, it’s a game of no chance. But of course, this whole talk is directed to people like me who take things too seriously.

Let’s just say that casinos are for people who are willing to shell out a few bucks in honor of fun. If you’re out to win, better stay indoors because you’ll surely crawl home with a broken heart and an injured bank account.

Realization: Gambling is evil especially when you do it during Holy week! I promise to be good next time, oh I can’t wait for next year’s easter egg hunt!!!

The Audition.

2011-03-14T14:24:00.000-07:00

I sat there in the lounge— chin up with a pout, legs together slightly crossed. I was sure my presence was forceful and I was careful not to engage in any conversation. Any small talk or outburst, despite how soft, would give away my relentless fidgeting— and this would definitely shame the art of intimidation that I was trying so hard to accomplish.

Despite my best effort to meditate, boisterous whispers disturbed me—talks of fame and dreams of film-stardom penetrated through my ears. In my head I knew I had a different drive. I did not want to become an actress nor a housemate. I knew I had something in me and despite what I have already attained, it is possible that I could be something more.

So there I was. Again.

In the midst of the agitation, the prolonged anxiety and the vomit stuck in my throat, this is what I was really thinking…

I have been in this situation countless times. Count seven years back when I auditioned for field reporter and ended up as a newsdesk slave.

I’ve had my share of humiliation and battered self-esteem BUT I have risen above and have proven myself time and again...

And although all these people are capable of becoming who they want to be…

Now is MY time. It’s my turn to shine.

It wasn’t about building my career or maintaining it or furthering it. I’ve already left it. This time, I was determined to break down any conventional limits I’ve set for myself. So I went beyond my own expectations and actualized something that is waaay out of the norm of a not-so-ordinary housewife, supermom and eh… daycare owner.

I braved the audition to host Adobo Nation. (Absorb. Okay.)

…And obviously did NOT get in. (Absorb. *Roll eyes* I know.)

Rejection is a scary word especially because each time it slaps us in the face, it always spits out its equally brutal partner, intense embarrassment. People rarely get out from this alive… And my weak heart crumbles when dealing with so. A preventative measure would be to tell ourselves not to expect anything. As the primary character in this endeavor though, I found it very difficult to follow such a rule since the very reason why I set foot on that studio was to snag the part.

Hope is in constant union with expectations— no matter how minute. And it always leads to only one outcome— a looming heartbreak. So it’s more appropriate to say “Be prepared to get your heart crushed because that’s what happens when you hope… that’s what happens when you try.”

This whole talk is not about pessimism. In fact, I’d say take the battle in and survive it. After all, the combat is the very thing we’d be delighted to retell over and over. And if you think about it hard, you’ll realize it’s not about rejection; it’s about knowing where you’re not meant to be… and that’s not such a bad thing.

You know what you do is not for you when:

2010-12-03T01:59:00.000-08:00

1. Sleeping is more worthwhile.

The sun is seeping from the creeks of your bedroom blinds and your alarm clock is going haywire; you tune it out, pretend that it’s a dream… but then the screaming, shrieking, battering sound beats you up and wins. You reach for that darn clock and smack it. You shield yourself under the warm sheets, begging for time to stop— even for just five minutes. You lay still… blank… and suddenly you realize that you’ve been laying still for 30 minutes and you’re late!

2. Coffee does not work.

Caffeine is widely known as an immediate remedy to a sleeping brain so if it doesn’t work for you then your brain is not on sleep mode but on a voluntary lockdown.

3. You know you can do better but you’d rather not.

The yearning for growth, acquisition of excellence and expansion of knowledge become a thing of the past. The goal is not to excel but to survive.

4. Reality sneaks into nightmares.

You’ve already had a bad day, as always. You go home, quick dinner, hot shower then off to bed. And just as you thought your terrible day has ended, it cheats its way into your dreams.

You are slaving in your work space when a red and black-striped head of an angry bull, complete with nose ring but with a human body emerges out of nowhere. Your heart pounds like it never pounded before because that bullfighter has a very distinct resemblance to your boss.

You wake up from your own scream and think twice about sleeping again.

5. You have this “lets get this done and over with” attitude.

Enjoyment is totally out of your system. You’ve become such a bore that even you are bored with yourself. You tell yourself to get a life but you don’t know where to get it.

6. Self-pity is your new hobby.

You rant, cry, rant some more, get angry but still submit. The exit door is just right there but you have to walk through it in order to get out. The choice is always yours to make.

my life explained.

2010-10-22T15:15:00.000-07:00

I am a mother.
And while raising my son is my ultimate reason for living; writing is still and always will be my passion.

I’ve been there and I could do it again. That’s what I’ve always told myself whenever I felt the urge to submerge myself yet again in the world of pure chaos that is media.

I was a news writer, inching my way to broadcasting stardom. It has always been my goal, the one thing I was sure I would achieve by age 25. Instead, by that age, I was getting married to my life’s knight-in-shining-armor. Not a bad thing to trade it off with.

Still, there was this strange longing in me— a tinge of wonder, a pinch of bitterness of that lingering two-word phrase, “what if”.

What if I did continue on with my life-long dream… would I have gained that stardom status that I’ve always envisioned myself to attain?

I found myself trying to throw a part of me back into that world but the odds pulled me back here… to my now.

I frowned as I thought of the many reasons why I couldn’t return to what I have started. I doubted my capabilities and told myself that I’ve lost it.

Sometimes I would stare at myself for long hours and wonder about my life’s worth. My husband would tell me just how unquantifiable my whole being is. I wouldn’t get convinced though. There was this missing piece in me that needed to be found.

I needed to write. To get published. To get recognized. The passion seeped into my skin, surged its way up to my heart, my soul; devoured my thinking then I found myself writing away despite aimlessly.

With this desire, came the forgetfulness of how I chose to live my life. I closed my eyes and let the memory sink in. I let my mind make sense of what I have lost, what I have left behind and what I have now because of the fact that I walked away.

I was left in a psychological battle, which in turn, led me back to the one basic thing that’s imperative to my sanity— my family.

A particular night I remember quite vividly is the night my son came into my life. When I first held him close to my heart, my emotions flowed and the words that came out were genuine and involuntary…“You’re my greatest dream come true…”

Then the questions stopped.

He is my reason… my most priced possession, my weakness, my strength, my life; the definition of my whole being. And nothing else matters as much as he does.

Any other dream can topple and I couldn’t care less. The truth is, every single person is in search for certainty— for that one thing that would define who we really are.

In life, if we stop for a while and feel our inner selves, we’d find one thing that we never knew we value more than anything.

I have found it, recognized it and held it close to my heart. I fought for it and it has defined me, gave me the certainty that I’ve been searching for. Everything else flowed effortlessly then I stopped short and stared at myself, at how unbelievably far I have come.

I am a mother.
And while writing is my passion; raising my son is still and always will be my ultimate reason for living.

A Deeper Crisis Amidst the Drama

2010-08-24T00:40:00.000-07:00

Just when our people have regained their faith in Philippine governance, tragedy has once again slapped this grief-stricken country.

Needless to say, the 11-hour ordeal that shocked the world yesterday not only placed the nation in a very bad light but also exposed our vulnerability on issues concerning national police.

In this unfortunate circumstance, fingers are pointed at the NCRPO for certain inefficiencies that if prevented, could have saved eight innocent lives. In a statement, the NCRPO chief Leocadio Santiago even admitted flaws on their part, "We saw some obvious shortcomings in terms of capability and tactics used, or the procedure employed and we are now going to investigate this.”

Through an official statement however, Philippine President Benigno Aquino III partly blamed the Ombudsman.

“The situation deteriorated rapidly when, during the course of the negotiations, he (Ronaldo Mendoza) was given the letter of the Ombudsman in which she promised to personally review his case. As he was reading the contents of the letter, while talking to an unknown individual on the phone, he became increasingly agitated.”

He went on saying, “Nonetheless, the negotiators tried to reestablish contact with the hostage-taker but they were unsuccessful as the cellphone of the hostage-taker was continuously busy. He also refused to answer the throw-phone provided for him by the authorities.”

A sad reality kicks in: people rely too much on technology. Seriously, in crucial situations where lives are at stake, we should be able to find other means to communicate. Surely, the NCRPO should be equipped with simple battle gears like megaphones, perhaps?

Pnoy also said, “The escape of the driver, combined with his reports that the hostages were being harmed, forced the assault to happen.”

Frankly speaking, the assault should have happened sooner. The daunting fact is that the Philippine National Police cannot be relied upon. For whatever reason they may have, reality speaks for itself… they have failed.

One man hi-jacked a tourist bus and took eight lives while a wad of policemen watched, dumbfounded.

In its website, PNP listed a number of promising programs which speak of reforms. Number six on the list is STRATEGIC PLANNING & PERFORMANCE MANAGEMENT, which aims “to design and institutionalize a strategic planning system within the PNP; strengthen operational planning capacities of mission-critical units; develop results- based monitoring and evaluation systems which will be run at the operational and oversight levels of the PNP organization. An essential component of this program will be the formulation and implementation of a Crime Indicators System that will identify an appropriate set of indicators that will guide the monitoring and evaluation of the country’s crime situation and its performance, and the corresponding procedures for data generation and reporting.”

We have yet to see the implementation of these programs.

This hostage drama is a grave matter not only because of its adverse effects on Philippine tourism but even more worrisome is the disturbing incompetence of our police force.

Our country has been advocating the fight against terrorism. How can we win this fight when we can’t even take down one man? Nonetheless, hope remains for the change that this new government has promised. Filipinos will remain united, however watchful. We, as a people, need to be protected. We need to be safe in our own land.

adopted article!

2010-08-09T17:39:00.000-07:00

ABS-CBN News Online changed their server, sending my articles into the abyss. Luckily, I found this site, which reposted my article back in 2007! It's alive!!

http://thepinoy.net/?p=992

Giving In

2010-03-16T01:58:00.000-07:00

When is it ever easy to accept defeat? To know, with all the genuineness in your heart, that you are right but still painstakingly surrendering, despite unjustly, to an argument that you're bound to lose the moment it had sprung.

When the other person does not want to concede simply because he feels that he is God, sooner or later you would come to realize that arguing would be a complete waste of facial muscle strength. Why even bother when the other person's brain is clearly clouded by his own superficial principles? While indulging in arguments is part of being human, it is also quite natural to lose the appetite for it. It's either that, or you care for the person enough to want the verbal battering to stop.

Sometimes, backing down shows more brevity than any other conquered brawl. Sometimes, it shows more character -- a demonstration of honest compassion.

In a world consumed with anger, vengeance and pride, it is imperative that we silence ourselves for a while and reflect on our own flaws before condemning a person for his. Before we start an argument, lets rethink of the reason why we want to win. It says a lot about ourselves, doesn't it?

In Pursuit of the American Dream

2010-03-11T01:09:00.001-08:00

This article was among those that were sent into the abyss when ABS-CBN changed their server. Good thing Mac was able to save an HTML copy of it and found a way to convert it to JPEG. BUT I can't figure out how to enlarge the image, it automatically shrinks itself into unreadable-ness so I'm just copypasting it. Read on =) Might be useful.

In pursuit of the American dream
By ANNE MARIE DE JESUS PORTUGAL
Special to abs-cbnNEWS.com
(Thursday, November 15, 2007 1:56 AM)

With unemployment estimated at 7.8 percent (as of July 2007), the Filipino diaspora remains unabated, and can only be seen to grow in the coming years.

And while Pinoys are willing (if not at all ready financially) to try their luck in either the Middle East or Asian countries and even Europe, the United States of America remains to be the common Pinoy’s dreamland.

Wikipedia said that this year, Filipino population in the US has escalated to approximately four million.

Welcome to dreamland

"Amy" (not her real name) was a housemaid in the Philippines when her employer brought her to the US eight years ago.

Hoping for a better future, Amy was more than willing to embark on the journey. She entered the US with a tourist visa and the belief that her employer would take care of her work permit.

She described herself as an "all-around helper," meaning she does the laundry, housecleaning and taking care of the children. She was promised a $200 a month salary, which was not given her.

Amy’s employer also intentionally did not process her work permit. And since she had no money to pay for her plane fare going back home, she had no choice but to stick with her abusive employer.

Amy’s tourist visa expired after a few months, making her an illegal alien trapped in the US. Aside from labor abuse, Amy also mentioned that her employer would sometimes hit her.

"Minsan nga binato pa ako ng plato (There was a time when she threw a plate at me)," she said.

Amy’s case is not isolated. There’s also this couple who once lived a more than comfortable life in the Philippines. But fate took a sudden turn when their family business shut down. They risked what little money they had left and went to the US where they found an elderly couple, both Americans, who employed them as personal caregivers.

The two have been in the US for more than 10 years now, working illegally.

"Mahirap pero ganun talaga. Kailangan tatagan lang ang loob. Kundi magugutom naman ang mga anak ko sa Pilipinas… Dahil dito sa trabaho namin, naka-angat ulit kami (It’s difficult but that’s the way it has to be. We have to stand strong or else our children will starve… Because of this job, we were able to thrive again)," the Filipina said.

The risk they took paid off, and the couple was able to support the education of their three children who were left in the Philippines. They were also able to help some of their relatives to start a small business.

But they failed to see the children grow up.

"Uuwi rin kami. Pag marami nang ipon. Kasi pag ngayon kami umuwi, walang mangyayari sa amin sa Pilipinas. Mauubos lang ang kinita namin. Hindi na kami makakabalik dito (We still have plans of going home but that’s when we have enough savings. If we return to the Philippines now, nothing will happen to us. Our funds will be depleted and we can never go back here again)," she added.

Filipinos flock to the US for one primary reason – a better quality of life… because for a lot of people, America is still a land of dreams.

A ticket to the US

Entering the US is not easy and definitely not cheap. Applying for a US tourist visa or the B-2 visa would already cost $100. And that is the least of the worries.

Once the application has been submitted, the US Embassy would schedule the applicant for an interview where the applicant is required to show proof of financial stability – of how one can support his or her travel to the US.

There is no rule of thumb to assure that the application will be approved. A student lawyer was denied three times.

This is probably because through the years, a large number of Filipinos have opted to use their tourist visas as a one-way ticket to their dreamland. Once they reach America, they never went back home. Thus, the rise of the so-called "TNT" or "Tago Nang Tago", a term used for Filipinos who work illegally in the US – as is the case of Amy and the Filipino couple mentioned earlier.

The process of getting a US work visa, also known as the H-1B visa, is a more complicated process.

Over all, the process would cost around $10,000. Almost half of this would go to the US Citizenship and Immigration Services, while the remainder would go to the agency for marketing and placement fees.

Marketing is the term used for endorsing applicants to prospective companies in the US.

This is why it is advisable for the applicant to already be in the US before applying for this kind of visa. He or she must be physically available for interviews.

It is also important to know that the applicants may not necessarily land a job in line with their profession.

When the agency finds a US company that would be willing to sponsor the applicant, the immigration lawyer employed by the job agency would then work with both the company and the applicant to accomplish all the application forms and requirements to be filed before the USCIS in order to start the processing of the H-1B visa.

But there is still no guarantee that the USCIS would grant the applicant the work visa. USCIS has a quota of the number of work visas it can issue in a year. The agency also increased its application and processing fees this year, expectedly surging up agency fees as well.

Marriage for sale

With such a big amount, others will try an easier but equally complicated route --- marriage for convenience.

While extremely expensive, there is greater chance of gaining legal citizenship from it.

A US citizen may agree to be married for as much as $25,000. Consider it as their "talent fee". Once married, the US citizen would petition his or her "spouse" to be a US immigrant.

The couple must accomplish three forms to be filed before the USCIS. The first is the I-130 form or the Petition for Alien Relative. The filing of this form costs $355. Along with it, the couple must also file the I-485 form or the Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status, which amounts to $1,010. Given that the purpose of the applicant is to work legally in the US, he or she must also secure the I-765 form or the Application for Employment Authorization, which costs $340.

All these processing fees combined with lawyer fees would sum up to around $5,000. Add the $25,000 – that would be a whopping $30,000. Now that’s definitely a wedding to remember.

A US immigration lawyer said that it would only take about four to five months for the "spouse" to be granted a green card or a permanent resident’s card if the marriage was proven valid. However, the couple must stay married for a number of years before getting a divorce or else the green card will be revoked.

Marriage for convenience is prevalent nowadays but it is not necessarily a safe choice. There is always the danger of being caught.

USCIS application processes have slightly slowed down this year because of the heavy flow of applicants who filed their petitions before the fees increased.

No guarantees

Many have tried their luck in America. And just like in any other undertaking, many have failed while a few others have triumphed.

"Kristine," a 35-year old occupational therapist, came to the US holding a tourist visa. During her stay in the US, she worked on finding a medical facility that would employ her and sponsor her to get a work visa.

Her perseverance paid off when a company realized her potentials and agreed to sponsor her H-1B visa.

"Swerte na rin siguro at saka at that time in demand talaga ang mga therapists (Maybe I got lucky and also, at that time, there was a huge demand for therapists)," Kristine said.

Years into her job, she eventually found love with a co-worker who happened to be a US citizen.

"During that time, I didn’t really like him. I was actually going out with his friend. But fate stepped in, I guess. He confessed his feelings and then I realized I felt the same way. A few years after that, we got married," she said.

Kristine and her husband now have two beautiful daughters and are living comfortably in their California home.

Already a permanent resident in the US for a number of years, Kristine has recently filed an application for US naturalization.

Marriage of at least three years with a US citizen qualifies an immigrant to apply for US naturalization or citizenship. US citizens are entitled to more rights such as the right to vote.

Kristine is a living testament that the American dream is still achievable.

The quest may turn out to be either a bad chapter in someone’s life or a defining moment for another. Either way, there is no guarantee.

And Philippine reality makes Filipinos risk-takers.

(Anne was a staff member of abs-cbnNEWS.com before she immigrated to the US.)

vocabulary accdg to my MaRcO

2010-02-25T13:36:00.000-08:00

when babies start to talk, it's either we as grown ups adore them OR get annoyed with the amount of effort we have to put in order to understand them.

in my case, i am loving my baby even more and i'm so proud of him for trying to be understood.

no rush my baby, take your time learning. i love you so much.

here are some of the words that are now part of his vocabulary:

mommy MIMIMI

goofy GOO-GOO

elmo E-MOH

blanket BAKUH

book BUCK

sun UN

moon MOOOOOO

donut DO-AH

bread BEH

cookie KUKU

beef BEP

chicken TEKE

hotdog ATDOH

juice JYU-JYU

tickle TIKI

poopoo PUPUP

weewee WEEEEEEE

dip DEP

hello A-LOW?

the case of the flying beer bottle

2010-02-24T15:15:00.000-08:00

Let’s recount the events that happened last month.

On a lazy Friday night, my brother decided to drop by Cabooze bar in BF Homes Paranaque to hang out with some of his closest friends. He wasn’t planning to stay long since there was a newborn baby waiting for him at home.

There he was socializing and doing whatever it was that civilized people do in a bar. Finally, it was time to hit the road. Just when he was about to leave though, he ran into his former co-workers and decided to chat with them for a little while when out of nowhere a beer bottle hit him right smack on his face. His forehead was cut open and was bleeding excessively. He had to be rushed to Asian hospital; sustained a swollen face, black eye and five stitches— just a few millimeters away from his eye— almost permanently damaging it.

So how the hell did a f*ckin’ beer bottle end up on my brother’s face?

Apparently, an @hole that goes by the name of Roald Borris “Owee” Ilagan was having an escalated fight with another guy who was also at the bar. During the heat of their argument, he threw a f*ckin’ bottle at that guy which landed on my brother’s face instead. (Mambabato na lang, tatanga tanga pa.)

The @hole went into hiding; not picking up calls on his cellphone and not replying to text messages. Upon learning about the turn of events, I posted a status message on my facebook account— he happens to be in my friends list since he is my highschool batchmate.

“My brother ended up with a swollen face, black eye and stitches on the forehead. Man up, Owee Ilagan. You can't run away from this one. NOT THIS ONE.”

I also talked to one of his friends to ask for his address since the police needed it so they can serve the warrant of arrest (We are serious in filing a criminal case against him). Barely fifteen minutes after I talked to his friend, my brother received a text message from the @hole saying that he was willing to settle the matter with us.

Plant fear and the cockroach will re-appear.

Okay then.

So my brother and the @hole met at Starbucks in BF Homes. He was practically begging my brother not to serve the warrant at their home address, claiming that his mother might suffer from a heart attack (if she learns about the latest torment that her son has bestowed upon her). He assured my brother that he was going to pay up for the damages.

Pay up your ass, you @hole. You can’t even afford us. The case is still on.

Before the case can be filed at the fiscal’s office, a series of meetings must be convened at the barangay hall, in this case, in BF.

During the first meeting, we learned that Cabooze bar is co-owned by Frederick Gallardo and Anthony Villarosa, both my highschool batchmates AND friends of the @hole.

At first, the two committed to cooperate with us and even offered to cover the hospital expenses but by some contravening forces of hell, the two also performed a disappearing act, sending the parents of one of their co-owners instead to do the job for them (a co-owner with the last name, Granada).

The parents basically asked my brother to accept their offer (of taking care of the hospital bills). In return, they want their son’s name and the other (three) bar owner’s names cleared of all charges (as owners of the bar, they do have liability in any incident that happens within their business property). My brother agreed for as long as the owners would testify against the @hole in court. Of course, without thinking twice, the parents said YES. Today, February 24, 2010 (Manila time), was the last barangay meeting. No @hole appeared, no bar owners, no parents, NOTHING.

For someone who was not even involved in their stinkin’ catfight, my brother DID NOT deserve the mark that’s now embedded on his face. We are not backing down on this. The @hole asked for this then we’ll give it to him— a permanent criminal record in the National Bureau of Investigation is just the start (Good luck finding a job).

You think you can just scar my brother’s face, put him in great risk of being blind then offer us P30,000? You can shove the money down your throat. We are not cheap.

(I wonder though, if the @hole can’t pay for damages now, what more when the case goes up to court where damages and lawyers’ fees are sure to escalate).

Oh well, if you can’t pay up then go rot in jail.

a quote from Conan O'Brien

2010-01-23T00:53:00.000-08:00

"Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen."

i totally agree.

A writer's night out

2009-10-04T00:57:00.000-07:00

Just got home from a long overdue movie night out— a GIRLS ONLY movie night out! Sheesh, I can’t remember the last time I went out on a movie date with my girlfriends but thanks to my sisters in law and mom in law, I had the chance to sneak out of the house and escape from my mommy duty for at least a few hours.

The funny part was when my husband came running down the stairs all dressed up in his Saturday night outfit. I cannot forget the expression on his face when his sisters told him what movie we were going to watch. In a split second, he was already taking off his sweater and was gladly volunteering to stay at home with the kids.

I don’t get him. How could he not be interested to see Julie&Julia?!

It was just the P-E-R-F-E-C-T movie to watch! Special thanks to Rea for telling me about it. It had an instant effect on me, like cream effortlessly blending in coffee. Once we got out of the theater, I swear, I couldn’t wait to get my hands on my keyboard!

Julie&Julia didn’t really earn a five-star rating from me but the Julie character really got me. We share the same passion for writing— the only thing that I have a license for to call “my thing”.

It hit me hard when she said, “You’re really not a writer unless you get published.” This emphasizes the fact that I am a writer and I’m proud to say so. Writing has always been and will always be my first love. Despite not having the courage to join in high school and college newspaper organizations, I have always loved it.

Julie was just an ordinary married woman who had a knack for writing and was obsessed with recreating recipes made by a famous cook named Julia. She made a vow to conquer Julia’s cookbook in a year’s time, which she successfully accomplished. As she was blogging about every single detail of her experience, she was able to capture a lot of interested readers, which marked the beginning of her rise to fame.

Julie was very lucky to have a supportive husband— someone who saw her beyond her “psycho episodes”, which she’d like to refer to as “meltdowns”. Throughout the movie, I couldn’t help but think about my husband, Mark. Aside from being my superman, he is also literally my number one fan. Most of the time when he sees me typing away, he’d stay up with me until he could finally read what I’ve written. He never fails to compliment my writing. He knows what I love and nurtures it. That’s one of the many reasons why I love him, he makes me feel good about myself.

I was downright inspired by the film. It gave me hope. If an ordinary girl like Julie can blog away then be offered to write a book, which eventually became a movie then why can’t I? I’m also an ordinary girl, with huge dreams, most of which have already been achieved. Now it’s time to accomplish my next big dream— a published book. God knows when I’ll ever have time writing one but at least I know I can and will do it.

I find it utterly amazing how one’s thoughts can be put into writing and with just a few clicks on a blog site, those same thoughts can travel the world... AND inspire the world.

Like Julie, I don’t know how many people are actually reading my blog or if anyone is reading it for that matter. All I know is I’m doing what I love to do and for now, that is enough. I’ll nurture my soul today and reach someone else’s tomorrow. Hopefully, the day after that, I can reach the world.

When Nature Lashes Back

2009-09-29T15:26:00.000-07:00

Catastrophic at its finest sense.

Just like any other rain shower that manifested in recent months, it started as an ordinary tropical depression, which was just expected to breeze through the metro. Having been exposed to heavy rains for months, naturally, residents of Metro Manila brushed off the danger and went about their daily activities.

When the ordinary tropical depression intensified into a storm Friday afternoon, people started to get annoyed— with the traffic and the over crowded public transportations, who wouldn’t be? It’s a Friday night, people were itching to get home to start their much awaited weekend. Indeed, people were unprepared for the brewing disaster that would come.

It was around six in the afternoon here when my mom called me through my videophone. (It’s a device connected to an internet cable, sort of like magic jack but it is a phone in itself and it has its own camera.) It was nine in the morning in the Philippines, Saturday. The connection was definitely bad, the line kept on fluctuating on us plus the images kept on freezing. There was also a certain murkiness in the background. My mom managed to tell me that there was a storm before their internet got busted.

3 p.m. Philippine Time

I contacted my mom through her cellphone to check on things before I go to bed. It was already 12 a.m. here in the US.

She was on her stress mode when she told me that my pregnant sister in law got stranded in Makati where the floodwater was already 6 inches deep inside her car. Disbelief and shock were both swimming in my head. I had never heard of flooding in the central district of Makati, much so of a flood that deep that would actually immobilize the car.

She also went on telling me how high the water was in other parts of the metro and how hard the rain was still pouring.

But wait, where in the world was my dad?! My mom went from being in distress to totally aggravated and in panic mode. She was yelling (indirectly but still at me) when she said she couldn’t reach him. His cellphone was off and all the numbers of Philippine Airlines dispatch were, (surprise!), busted. So did he or did he not fly?

Goodbye sleep.

I can only imagine how much worse and horrifying the experiences of others were— those who were directly affected by the events that were brought about by that blasted Ondoy.

To those of us in foreign lands, we are indeed fortunate to be spared from the catastrophe. Most of us though, have homes, families and friends who were gravely affected by the ordeal.

No matter where we are in the world, our roots still belong to the Philippines. We can’t help but worry and be deeply saddened especially when we hear stories of deaths, floating bodies, wrecked homes and missing loved ones; see photos of familiar places submerged in dark water, countrymen drenched with mud and children lamenting over the chaos that surround them.

The Heroes

“I wish I may, I wish I might, let JR be my neighbor tonight.”

I commend him and his brother for doing what they did. There are only a few out there who would elicit concern and compassion for their fellowmen. They braved the bacteria-infested floodwater, which by the way might also have been a haven of snakes and crocodiles, to check their neighbors’ safety.

Gerald Anderson had an advantage though, he is a star. His heroism was noticed immediately but what about the others… have any of you watched the UERM video? That nameless guy also risked his life when he jumped from the building to help a woman (Bev) who was stuck on top of her car that was being washed away with a tidal floodwater wave.

Let us not forget the soldiers, police officers and fire fighters who administer rescue and relief operations. There are still a lot of good souls out there and because of them, the world becomes not so bad to live in.

Unfortunately, there are imbeciles too— those who rejoice over others’ suffering and actually tweet about it too! Heartless indeed. Yes, we are all entitled to our own opinions but no one has any right to decide on another’s fate. No one has a right to wish for another person’s sorrow. No one has a right to wish for another’s death.

We can fire off insults, we can fire off curses, we can fire off whatever we want to fire off. What purpose will it serve though? The damage has been done— a terrifying and seemingly irreparable ruin. What’s left to do now is to pick up the pieces. It will not be easy but everything would have to start somewhere. Filipinos will once again rise from this. Hey, if this disaster already brought together ABS-CBN and GMA, what else could we not accomplish?!

when a fulltime mom (and wife) calls in sick

2009-09-17T01:40:00.000-07:00

When I went here, I had to adjust to three things: being here, being married and being a mom. All these, all at once. And dang! It ain’t easy. As a matter of fact, I complain a lot. I often times storm off. I stress too much. And I’m almost always tired. But there’s no other place I’d rather be.

I was once part of the chaotic corporate world. I was also once part of the more chaotic news and current affairs world— an understatement, really. I know how it feels like to get battered with impossible deadlines, machinegun-do this-do that and heart-attacking bawls. I’d like to call it slavery. I didn’t get paid enough to take that kind of sh*t. But I somehow found a way to suck it up. Of course, with the lingering feeling of wanting to be free, the lingering feeling of wanting to call in sick.

Why is it such a sin to call in sick?

You can always do that. IF you are prepared to go to work the next day with hawk-like eyes staring at you like they want to claw your eyes out from their sockets. There’s always the guilty feeling which gets even worse when your co-workers start beating you up with horror stories on how they had to adjust their workload due to your absence. Let us not forget the fact that you cannot call in sick for the next three months or so. Doing so would definitely be professional suicide.

How exactly do you call in sick?

Live by Louie’s example. (courtesy of Louie and Twinkle’s “CALL IN SICK 101”) The night before, he already declared a self holiday. So he calls in early the next morning. He was already faking his cough the moment the phone rang, only to tell his boss that he wouldn’t be able to report for work because of LBM.

The whole hullabaloo of calling in sick is such an in depth topic. I’d have to agree with Louie and Twinkle, a whole book should be dedicated only to it. I miss calling in sick… because by calling in sick, you actually do get a day off.

It’s hard to be a grown up, harder to be a responsible grown up, hardest to be a responsible grown up mom and wife.

Here’s an everyday constant stressful thought: what should I cook for today that they would actually eat and would actually be healthy. Dang! You’ll never know how burdensome this could be! I never had this problem before. First, because we had a cook. Second, because I didn’t care I just ate for myself.

How about being a walking inventory? Being injected with epidural when I gave birth played a part in messing up with my brain cells. Still, I strive to memorize each and every supply we have in the household because I know for a fact that when something runs out, my peaceful environment will get disrupted. Say for example, a husband—who has been out in the sun the whole day— comes home from work and goes straight to the bathroom to take a shower. Suddenly, you remember that you ran out of soap. Who suffers— the husband? Or you, who have to sleep next to the husband? (Not referring to Mac, he always smells good =D ).

And what about making the household as livable as possible? There is a need to clean unless you want your house to be infested with unknown species of pests. The bathroom is probably the hardest to clean because it’s the yuckiest. The kitchen is second. I don’t like false cleanliness. I want it sparkly, disinfected and friendly to my nose. Thus, adding to my list of must dos.

The to-do list of a mother and wife is endless. Getting sick is simply not acceptable.

Your husband looks at you with droopy eyes, out of concern, he tells you to get well. At the back of his mind, he’s already channeling all the forces of the universe to make you better so you can take the crying baby out of his hands.

Lets face it, as much as our husbands love us and as much as they’re trying their best to do what we do best, they fall short. It’s not because we’re smarter, not because we’re more efficient, not because we’re more capable but because we want things done OUR way. So when we call in sick, we’re running the risk of having them do things their way, which is obviously not what we want. We end up getting more restless instead of resting. We end up getting more stressed than destressing.

My advise to myself is to cut me (and him) some slack. Let things be chaotic for a little while. Because really, the to-do list will replenish itself automatically after every hour or so. Try to accomplish everything all at once and you’ll just end up chasing the end of a rainbow.

Come to think of it, calling in sick once in a while is really not that bad after all.

thoughtlessly thinking.

2009-05-21T02:09:00.000-07:00

I’m getting old. How I know it is quite simple— I’m listening to oldies music. My oldies music. I bet 2K9 kids would prefer singing along the beat of Poker Face as opposed to the tune of If Love is Blind. But I like my music. It’s calm. It offers me solace, a time to think, a time to reflect. So 2k9 kids can enjoy their 2K9 music while I indulge in my Tiffany and Mariah hits (back in the Love-Takes-Time days).

I miss a lot of things. I’m actually not the type of person who gets stuck in a phase. (Well, probably once before but that’s not the point). Now, I’m more of a let‘s-get-it-going kind of person. I don’t want my life to be put on hold. No pauses. That’s why I didn’t really realize how quickly time has gone by until I stumbled upon some old photographs and some long forgotten songs. Nostalgia suddenly struck me right smack on my face. I am old.

Who would have thought that I’ll miss doing school projects? I can still remember crying over cardboard fishes simply because I couldn’t figure out how to knot them onto a string... And discovering playboy magazines while searching for art paper. Yes, exposed at an early age. The owner of the magazines never “manned up”, by the way. Might be one of the yayas.

Or who would have imagined that I would learn a great lesson from riding a bike? That is— never to squeeze myself and my bike in between an ironing board and a wall ever again, especially when a hot iron is lying complacently on the board waiting for its prey… my poor arm.

Childhood has a lot of stories to tell. So does teenage life.

I owe a lot to Dawson’s Creek and F.R.I.E.N.D.S. Their insanity offered me sanity, which helped me tough it out through the worst and craziest of my days. And thank heavens for Ally McBeal, she made me realize that my life isn’t that twisted after all— as compared to hers.

How often can one find someone who would love her and hurt her? How rare can one find someone who would love her, (period!)?

I have gone a long long long way since I first learned my alphabet. And I can’t go back to my childhood days no matter how much I try to concentrate on time traveling.

Savoring the moment, reminiscing the memories, browsing through old photos and listening to old songs are all we have at hand. Before we know it, it’s tomorrow once again and we’ve closed another chapter in our life.

Why is it so hard to cherish now than to hold back on yesterday? I guess life will always be a big puzzle with lots of tiny "unfound" pieces. It is complex and before we can get to solve it, it’s over.

My 'happy' ever after - Oct 1, 2008

2009-03-03T17:19:00.000-08:00

Who would have thought that a happily-ever-after is possible between childhood sweethearts? More so, who would have thought that a happily-ever-after is possible between childhood foes?

Life indeed is difficult, if not impossible, to decipher. One thing's for sure though, it never fails to surprise us... whether with the good or the bad.

I've read time and again that "nothing is impossible once you set your heart into it".

Yeah right, huh? How many times did we dream. How many times did the dream fail us. How many times did we weep. How many times did we give up only to dream again and fail again.

I've had my fair share of heartaches and of course, uber embarrassing moments that I wish I could take back so I wouldn't have to cringe every time I remember. The road to this state wasn't easy. At all.

I've been to six different companies in two years, endured a bad relationship for five years, abandoned a business that I started and gave my parents series of headaches until finally... finally. The universe put me where i belong. Like the last piece of a puzzle that was long hidden under a smelly, filthy carpet. Finally, I'm home.

And yes, finally... I believe that "nothing's impossible once you set you heart into it."

Before I got reunited with destiny, I went to the happiest place on earth... Disneyland. And it was there that I realized one thing... "That dreams really do come true." I was literally in tears when the voice of Julie Andrews uttered those words after Tinkerbelle's life-threatening stunt and the marvelous display of fireworks that glistened the beautiful evening sky. I was there. And in that moment, the dream became real. Everything just fell into place.

Destiny was waiting for me, somewhere in Burlingame, someone was thinking of me. And that someone is now snoring shirtless beside the snoring little version of him.

Funny how life turns out. It is one big misunderstood humor, which I now claim to have understood. Somehow.

In the end, it always gives us what we deserve. And in the end, it still doesn't end.

Work with the universe and the universe will conspire with you.

Happily-ever-after goes on.

the demise, the anguish, the honoring

2009-02-23T13:45:00.000-08:00

Leaving Song - Stephen Speaks

I felt like i knew him well.

My husband would come home every single day with a story to share, humorous or not, about him. He was a big part of my husband's life, thus, a big part of mine too.

He was my husband's mentor both at and outside work.

My husband had reiterated that only a few have influenced him to become the person that he is now. He is one of those. For that, i think i too, owe him a lot.

It has always been a wonder how things go the way they do.
A puzzle why things happen to who.
A mystery how one loses.
A shock when things happen the time it chooses.

Grief has taken over most people these past few days. He had indeed touched a lot of lives. Thus, his legacy remains.

He has graduated from this life with flying colors and now works directly for God.

He can run around, play sports and even fly. He's happy and free.

He can watch over those he love, caress them, kiss them and hug them whenever he wants. He can talk to God and ask Him questions we humans can never do.

He is free and we have to let him be.

We need to ask him though, to tell God to give those he have left behind the strength to go on. After all, he's now God's soldier and we are merely humans.

Let us not mourn rather let us celebrate his life. We know that's how he would would want it after all...

the wowowee brouhaha

2009-02-16T01:55:00.000-08:00

Exactly how poor are the Filipinos?

When our countrymen start to depend on a game show for salvation… then we know, times are hopeless and it’s only getting worse.

What Filipino hasn’t heard of Wowowee? Even non-Pinoys all over the world recognize the tune of “Boom Tarat-Tarat” and “Igiling-giling”. Truly, this noon-time game show has become not only a household name but a global phenomenon. To some, it’s a habit; to many, it’s hope.

Since its launch in 2005, Wowowee has lifted the spirits of thousands of Filipinos crippled by poverty. With the sponsorship of big companies, it has helped put up livelihood to the unemployed, granted monetary support to those who have ailing loved ones and provided exposure to talented individuals who dreams of starting a career in show business.

Who would dare doubt the significance of Wowowee in our lives? Would anyone contest the fact that it has become part of the Filipino culture?

Philippine locals from all sides of the country flock to ABS-CBN, not to spot famous stars but to have an encounter with their icon of hope, Papi. People have started pinning their hopes on Wowowee to improve the quality of their lives. Has anyone noticed that Filipinos look up to the show more then they ever did on the Philippine government?

Filipinos are getting poorer by the minute. In an official statement last year, the National Economic and Development Authority said that poverty population in the country “has already reached 27.6 million in 2006, 16 percent more than the 23.8 million estimated in 2003.”

Thanks to Wowowee, people remain optimistic. But what happens when hope turns into tragedy?

Who can forget the catastrophe that happened four years ago? It was somewhat predictable that an enormous number of people would gather outside the ULTRA for the first year anniversary of the show. Unpredictably though, a stampede killed over 71 people. This stresses the point, doesn’t it?

Until there’s a concrete resolution to this poverty issue (goodluck with that), I guess we’ll just have more reasons to watch Wowowee. Hey, where else can you find good entertainment with a pinch of compassion and a whole lot of faith geared towards betterment. =)

Go Wowowee!!

sepideh, here it is!

2009-02-11T21:55:00.000-08:00

A princess lost in her own world…

That’s probably the best way to encapsulate the whole of her. Clamorous is second, thus the birth of this mini memoir.

We met at the right moment… right when I was about to crash because of my nurtured heartache. As I was pouring my heart out with a classmate (yes, I was in high school) one Iranian girl interjected, demanding that I should forget about the stupid guy. The only thing I could say was…"Nakikinig ka?!” Chismosa at its finest; she then became my bestfriend for life.

What boy wouldn’t fall for this hot chick?

Aside from being the goddess of hotness that she is, she never fails to crack me up. Once, we were deciding on what to eat at the school canteen. We were walking side by side then she shifted direction and yelled, “Dun ako sa hatdugan!” I was left dumbfounded until I saw her heading for the hotdog stand.

Oh and who could forget the Valentine-less Valentine’s Day. We went to SM Southmall and went window shopping to forget the unfortunate fact that we were loveless on Hearts Day. Of course naturally, our stomachs growled from hours of walking.

We decided to eat at Tokyo Tokyo without noticing the ambiance. After we’ve ordered, the server lit up the candle that was sitting on top of the table. We put on our confused faces and looked around. To our surprise, we were surrounded with lovers, all of whom were having a candlelit dinner. We asked the server not to light the candle anymore but she insisted, saying that it was their Valentine promo. I guess it was the worst time for me to have extremely short hair.

Sepideh and I have countless memories that we can chatter about over and over, memories that we’ll both treasure throughout our lifetime.

She’s bubbly, she’s crazy, she’s smart and she’s definitely in love. In love with the moon who has vowed to shine even in her darkest nights.

Did I mention that this Persian beauty desires to stay in the Philippines even if she has her own princess-like world going on back in Iran? Ask her why.

She has surfaced as a fine young woman despite everything that she has been through in recent years. She’s a fighter… and the most loving person you’ll ever encounter.

Let's not forget, she's also a certified daddy’s girl. Spoiled. Snob. And so very well loved as she may choose to put it.

Without a doubt, I am one of the lucky few who have the privilege to call her my best friend.

Oh Sweet Bitterness! Tuesday, December 18th, 2007

2009-02-10T11:47:00.000-08:00

“Let go” – two dreadful words that any person, if a choice was to be made, would never opt to do. But just the same, any sane person would agree that this “letting go” phenomenon is inevitable. It simply must be done.

Attachment is often times a very dangerous thing to indulge upon. Nurturing your dependence on something or someone may seem healthy at first but it will eventually lead to your self-decay.

It’s human nature to love. It’s also quite natural to “unlove”. You can’t force a person to love you forever. Especially when you didn’t deserve his love to begin with. Harsh realities.

Sometimes when you find love, you think it’s the one true love meant for you. You think you get the right to claim it, to hold on to it, to own it for as long as you please. But a lot of times that same love wakes up and realizes that it shouldn’t be with you… that it’s fit to be with someone else. This very fact is the hardest to accept.

You begin to feel countless insecurities about yourself. You drown in self-pity. You lament over your loss. Then you let anger take over your system. And since madness rules your way of thinking, you are not able to digest that soon another love will come to hopefully, finally fit.

To let go is excruciatingly painful. This is why sometimes, you choose not to. And often times, you would purposely hurt others expecting that your own sorrow would lessen by doing so.

A very very very very common way is by trash talking. Firing off an unlimited supply of negative perceptions (despite false) about your former partner might seem as the easiest way to cope with your despair. And why not? You get the sympathy of those around you. You get to be the victim. Soon, everyone will team up against him. You think that by putting him down, you would keep him from leaving you. But… he left you anyways.

He didn’t care and will never again care about you or whatever it is that you have to say. He has fully dismantled himself from you. (Oh what relief!)

Now what?

Since he was not at all affected by your false accusations, you devise another plan… you veer all your anger to all those who didn’t side with you. You try to control them, dictate to them how they should act and interact. You forbid them to communicate with the one who left you with the ultimate goal of cutting off his supply of friends.

Sometimes, bitterness causes a spread of stupidity in a person’s brain.

He is happy without you and is definitely happy without your so-called friends. Have your little mind try to absorb that fact.

Pretensions. You’re full of it. You project that you’re this fragile little angel. But at night when you look at the mirror, what you see is a crated bull with horns and a blazing fire coming out your nose. You’re not pretty, you’re not nice, you’re not innocent and you’re definitely not sane.

Everyday you live a staged life. There’s nothing real but the pain that’s still burning inside you.

You are not to be loved and there’s no one to blame but you.

spoiled brat days Wednesday, September 5th, 2007

2009-02-10T11:46:00.000-08:00

i remember quite vividly when mac used to hate me… coz i hated him back ten times more.

my two older brothers didn’t back me up on this. they seemed to be fond of him, leaving me all by my lonesome.

they, together with a whole bunch of boys from our street (all qualified in the same age range) would come in and out of the house everyday, fixating themselves with the latest video games that my dad would buy for me and my brothers. sadly for me though, they never let me play.

mac lived across my house and he seemed to have the notion that our crib was an extension of theirs. given that he is best friends with my brothers and godson of my mom.

he was tight with my family even then, except for me and my dad. HA! at least i had my dad on my side. on second thought… darn. he was just always away, flying jets.

even if i hated mac back then, i knew this one thing about him… that he was addicted to rock salt. his yaya would put theirs on the highest of their cupboard so he wouldn’t be able to reach it. as a result, he would confidently bust into our dining room and deliberately empty our salt shaker.

one time, i caught him alone in the kitchen in the process of gulping down (yuck) all of our salt. i blurted out "ROCK SALT NA NAMAN?!" with my hands on my waist.

he replied with a loving (and i mean this sarcastically) "HE!" and walked away.

most of the time, the boys in the neighborhood would scatter on the street playing patintero, taguan, 21, monkey-monkey in the middle, dodge ball, etc. in a few lucky instances, their hearts would soften and let me play as saling pusa. but then i always ended up battered.

one grave instance was when i broke my pinky while playing monkey-monkey in the middle.

here’s what happened. it was a late summer night. all the kids were still on the street. of course, being me, i wouldn’t want to miss out on all the fun. my brothers and mac were playing the monkey game. i think it was one of my brothers who was tagged as the monkey. (in reality, they both are =p )

this loving creature called mac, passed (more like cannoned) the ball toward me. i desperately tried to catch it and i did. i was also successful in breaking my finger in the process. until now, it’s still bent. and not a single sorry from the culprit.

being the youngest and the only girl in my family, you would think that i would be treated like a fragile little princess, with all the attention and all. but what i’ve come to realize is that boys will always have their own secret business that girls, especially the younger ones– ahem, me– must stay out of. but this didn’t stop me, did it?

i was peacefully riding my red bike in our garden when i saw my brothers and mac suspiciously sneaking into the house. i tried following them to the room but alas, it was locked. so being me, i quietly crept outside and peeked through the window. there was a lacy curtain blocking my view but thanks to the electric fan that occasionally blew away the blasted cloth, i had a glimpse of the illegality of what they were doing.

it was automatic and with full force, "AHA! ISUSUMBONG KO KAYO!"

looking back, i now realize how irritating that statement was.

of course, they were agitated. i think they wanted to crush my tiny bones during that time as their playing cards flew from shock and their coins tumbled and cluttered on the floor.

"SPOILED BRAT!" was all mac could ever tell me.

i was hurt by the reality of his statement and screamed back, "SPOILED BRAT KA RIN! MAYABANG KA PA!"

i think at that point in my life, i thought my purpose was to make mac’s life miserable.

but i had some good in me too.

my brothers knew how much i despised that mac creature. but there came a time when HE needed me. actually, he needed my red bike. his mom was going to buy him one but there was a condition– that he should first learn how to ride it.

my brothers convinced me to be kind to him once in my life. and so his first bike ride was with my red bike. (i suspect that this is the reason why until now, he has trauma riding a bike).

we were growing up. i was becoming more reserved. and he was still as loud as he has always been. we went to the same school where he was three batches higher. since we lived across each other, we were on a car pool. my uncle would take us there and pick us up.

then the unimaginable happened. he had his first crush. eewww. he was able to procure a picture of the girl who-must-not-be-named and was showing it off. even to me. if he was able to show it to me– his greatest enemy– then he must have been really happy during that time. but people were not happy seeing the picture.

a few months after that, he left for the states. i was 11.

blabberina strikes again Tuesday, August 21st, 2007

2009-02-10T11:44:00.000-08:00

I’ve got too much time in my hands. How I know it is quite
simple. I notice every tick-tock of the clock and I tell you, it gets a little
irritating after a while.

Anticipation — whether it is five minutes stretched to an
hour or so, it still equates to forever.

Again, I’ve got too much time in my hands. Thus, driving me
to gossip a little and reflect a lot. I came up with an annoying but rather
sensible analysis: That one can pick up something valuable even from the most
disgusting, most unlikable, I-don’t-want-my-name-to-be-associated-with-you
person — whether it is a good old relaxing song that you never knew existed /
a euphoric vacation spot that mushroomed out of nowhere / a dumb idea that
suddenly became brilliant or a useless lesson that could apparently change your
life in an instant.

Stripping off my pride (will put it back on in a minute),
the realization is that there is so much people can learn from each other, only
if we try to extricate hate and disburden our hearts from useless anger.

A humble admission slid out of the corners of my mangled
brain — That even the most unlovable person has something loveable to
offer.

(Insert my infamous confused, sarcastic,
are-you-out-of-your-mind expression). What a face. My pride antidote is wearing
off.

I can’t believe my brain would actually believe that this is
so. But fine, my heart would have to agree.

Give the person a break right? She might appear like the
monster that she is but hidden deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep inside her is something
others might consider as loveable. I mean, this person has finally found
someone who could excavate the good in her so butt off, I mean back off, right?

Who knows, a certain twist of fate may even lead her to
become your newest, bestest friend. (… Not!) – trying to delete but the delete
function won’t work, oh well.

Disagreements. They’re inevitable. Each person’s brain is
composed of different brain cells — others defective, others less efficient.
Thus, the birth of those troubled little minds.

It’s quite easy to make enemies, really. Someone you might
only know by her first name may automatically appear to you as the most
obnoxious person ever existed. One
common way is by forcedly siding with your so called “best friend” when she says that
that particular person is a b*tch. It’s human nature, I guess. But of course,
the higher of human beings would weigh the facts before passing on a judgment.
Unfortunately in this world, the lowest of low dominates.

Moving on…

Here’s a thought: A happy and secure person radiates a
gleaming aura that naturally deflects bitterness and everything else negative
around her.

(Kaya pala walang panget sa tabi ko ngayon.)

Another thought: It’s obviously extremely hard to be happy
when the person you
loathe the most is moi. But come on, there must be something
good in you too. Think hard. (Pride officially back in full force)

reposting...

2006-12-12T08:39:00.000-08:00

when saying 'i miss you' cuts deep

you scramble, struggle for air when you're actually drowned in it.
i miss him.
too much air, too much space.
the last thing i need
and the greatest thing i have.
it's not just another tagline... not just another used-to-say expression.
it pierces into my soul and takes away every bit of sanity that's left in me.
with hopefulness, with so much longing, and still... with prolonged agony.
i am here
and he's there.
an infinite space is in between, an infinite breath of air.
if it's possible to breathe all of life's air in one inhalation,
if it's possible to drain all the energy pushing us apart...
to lessen the distance,
to take away the endless time spent apart...
but i am left standing still.
waiting,
and waiting still.
and it takes the life out of me.
hope of second chances awakens my unconscious mind
an unconcealed wish that the day is just a blink away.
but each waking hour...
i find myself still here, still oceans away, still uncertain.
and i long.
and i hope.
and i wait.
and i cry.
and i cry still.
memories that play involuntarily in my mind, emotions that linger unwillingly in my heart
there's no escaping back flashes and soulful reveries
and i smile...
then i cry some more.
i miss him.
and it truly cuts deep.
it forces itself in and jabs my heart.
'til there's no air...
'til there's no life...

So un-us

2006-12-12T07:48:00.000-08:00

It has been quite a while since I last blogged… with sense.

These days, all I have are short-liners that don’t quite reveal even an itsy bit of my semi-life.

Senseless thoughts come rushing into my mind every second but nothing’s worth blogging about. If there were, I couldn’t get my mangled brain to organize which comes first.

I’ve been so immersed with news writing that I have forgotten what it’s like to just write away. Freely. With no limits, no contentions, no editing!

But I like my job. I think.

And most of the time, I do get credit for my stories. And I am able to claim some as my own. Plus, it’s ecstatic to feel that I belong. To actually be in a place where I know I can reach the fullest of my potentials. Only, I don’t want to be there.

And where I wanna be is a thousand miles away from where I am actually at. Bummer.

Living the semi-life

This is what sucks at the field I am in… Or in any other field for that matter. Work becomes a priority. Just a few months on the job and you start to realize that your time is basically spent on:

1. The house – sleeping… but still you feel that you haven’t had enough.

2. The office – where you wish the clock’s minute hand would rotate like a Boeing 747-400 propeller.

3. The car – where every honk and every step on the brake pedal equates to another growing pimple. Talk about road stress. Damn traffic. Let me say that again… Damn Philippine traffic. Aaaargghh.

The used to be us

Goooodness! I can’t believe it’s even possible to miss somebody this much. The moment I’d stop thinking about him is the moment I will be pronounced as brain-dead. God-forbid please…

He doesn’t just cross my mind… he stays there! And I like it. The thought of him keeps me going. Yes, he’s my “energizer” even if he’s oceans away.

Why do I miss us?

Because everything is just completely different without “us”.

It’s not as simple as me getting used to the situation. I don’t want to get used to it. Him not being by my side... That’s so not meant.

What do I miss most about this Mac person?

--------........---------........---------..........--------

For a moment there I was completely out of words. And I think I still am. Everything won’t account to the everythingness that I miss about him… and everything that I miss about us =(

Living apart is going day by day staring at the clock and trying to “mental-telepathy” it into moving faster. No success so far.

This is so not us.

We’ve been together everyday for four months. And with just an overnight plane ride, we’re now living our everydays struggling to not lose the connection we have.

And darn, it’s so hard.

It’s not just about intimacy. It’s the fact that I am losing touch with who he really is. What I know now is based on memories and from what we talk about over the phone. That’s not what I want.

I want to make new memories.

And what I find out about him, I want to discover myself. I don’t want him to tell me. I want to see it. Witness it. Be there with him. Experience what he’s experiencing. Learn what he’s learning. Laugh, cry, get mad, get frustrated, cry some more, laugh some more… together. No, I don’t want him to tell me. I want to know on my own.

And I can’t freakin’ do that. And it saddens me everyday.

And it’s so un-us.

Long Distance

He’s not who he is. At least, not the whole of who he really is.

The same holds true in my case.

He can love me better. And I can love him better.

Funny how an infinite space can put so many boundaries between two people in love.

Ironic, isn’t it? And so damn not right.

And I am left still staring at the clock and trying to master the art of mental-telepathy. Speed up time so every waking day would be a day closer to our time together.

Miss according to dictionary.com:

1. to fail to hit or strike: to miss a target.
2. to fail to encounter, meet, catch, etc.: to miss a train.
3. to fail to take advantage of: to miss a chance.

Miss according to Anna:
1. i miss hitting mac.
2. i miss meeting mac.
3. i miss taking advantage of mac. bwahaha!

Anyhoo!

I think that's precisely why "i miss you" is said as "i miss you". It's because for some reason, you failed to hit your target of being with the person, you failed to catch the person when you know you should have. I miss you! I missed you! Missed. Failed to come in contact with the person for whatever purpose.

Often times, when someone says "i miss you", he or she says it casually. It's like he or she says it just to say it... Because it's such a used-to-say expression. It becomes a filler. Like saying... "How are you?" without even waiting for the other person's response. Who cares about how you are... I just ran out of things to say, you know.

But... have you ever said I miss you and actually felt the pinch in your heart?

I have. And i was amazed... In my mind, I was thinking... aaahhh...So that's how it feels like when you really meant to say it.

The ouchness and all. But I felt good after knowing that I am, after all, human. But then there's this never-subsiding heaviness and longing.

How I wish we could be together. If only I could fly. Or apparate to make it faster.

Anyway... my mind’s experiencing slight turbulence and my heart’s still aching... The reason why I think I didn't make sense again.

Distraught. Disorganized. My soul's malnutritioned.

Maybe I can learn to write again when my world becomes sunshiny once more…

And when i finally manage to un-un-us.

‘Til then…

(staring at the clock again)

miracle.

2006-11-16T05:26:00.000-08:00

i passed.

should i be happy?

goshness.

what did i get myself into... AGAIN!

ang majik nga naman.

2006-11-10T14:14:00.000-08:00

nagsusulat ng hate poems.
nakikinig sa mga tagalog break up songs.
nagpho-phone brigade sa mga kaibigan.
planong magpakalunod sa alcohol kahit hindi naman talaga marunong uminom.
laging mainit ang ulo.
depressed.
hindi makakain ng tamang kain.
hindi makatulog ng tamang tulog.

yung tipong emote to the maximum level pero useless kasi magbabati rin pala kayo.

drama niyo pa yung "go build your wall and i'll build mine too" sabay sabi ng bye!
napagkamalan tuloy na dream niyo ang maging karpintero.

a very dear cousin of mine told him:

"you can make her so mad then turn it around and she's so happy."

she believes he has some kind of magic. the power to let my defenses down. it's either that or autistic lang talaga ako.

pero may point ha. mataas ang pride ko. feeling ko kasi mabait ako. kaya dapat siya rin mabait. no room for mistakes. pag nagkamali, parang nagugunaw mundo ko. tipong dapat perfect ang lahat. hindi pwede yang sorry sorry. magdusa siya. ganyan ang drama. humabol siya, magkanda-dapa dapa. pa-important effect. eh itong si mokong, gabundok din ang pride. so tameme ako. ayaw humabol. kainis.

hindi lang niya alam, isang "i'm sorry" lang naman tsaka isang "you don't know how much you mean to me" kuha na niya ako. kahit gasgas na, ok lang. simple lang kaligayahan ko diba? asar, may magkanda-dapa dapa pakong nalalaman, pakipot lang pala. deep inside, "please text me na, my goodness! i forgive you na nga eh."

in other words, ako'y isang utu-uto. pagbigyan. nagmamahal eh. tae lang. ay, tao pala.

ganito yata talaga. nagboblog ako, alas-singko ng umaga. hindi makatulog, on a high. masaya na ulit ang mundo. bati na kasi. pano? "am sori" daw eh.

ngayon, isa na lang ang dapat kong gawin. kumain. na-miss ko yun. finally, nararamdaman ko na ulit ang pagkalam ng sikmura ko. hay, normal na ulit ako.

you're mine and forever will be

2006-11-10T06:21:00.000-08:00

you're mine and forever will be.

wishful thinking is a paradise of lost thoughts.

a haven of broken hearts with oceans of glistening tears.

you're mine and forever will be.

words of finality and of unrelenting hopefulness.

a portfolio of sweet memories and stolen glimpses of heaven.

you're mine and forever will be.

kisses of lies and blisters of goodbyes.

a mountain of shattered dreams and irreparable differences.

you're mine and forever will be.

etches of wounded smiles and echoes of halted laughters.

a demise of young loves and a termination of eternity.

angst

2006-11-10T05:22:00.000-08:00

I am not gonna indulge. i am not gonna let loose. i am not gonna spill it out.

i am strong. i can contain it. i am not gonna falter.

but maybe... just maybe... i'm about to.

have you ever believed so strongly in something? have you ever believed it your whole life? have you ever believed in the ultimacy of things? that it's the only thing that will ever matter? that it's the only thing that you'll ever wanna be? or that he's the one, the very one?

and found out too soon the flaws, the falsity, the lies, the end?

well, i have. and it's not a good feeling. it's like backtracking when i was a defenseless little girl and seeing my favorite dollhouse get mercilessly crushed by my older brother's monster truck. or getting an intestinal flu and unconsciously hugging-and-almost-kissing the toilet bowl while my insides are racing up through my throat and out my mouth. it's like feeling my body violently shaking as if i'm bare-naked at the height of a snow storm when it's actually a hundred and twenty degrees outside. it's like slowly decomposing when one is at the prime of his or her life.

heck. i am not strong enough. the moment i typed in the first letter of the first word of the first sentence, i've already exposed the nudity of my entire being-- my vulnerability, my sadness, my failure. and it doesn't matter. nothing matters anymore.

as of the moment. just as of the moment.

i want to feel this. savor this. and when i come out of this then i'd know... it's time for that long-overdue-sweet-revenge.

haaay. life.

2006-11-01T17:34:00.000-08:00

i was living in a dream... and was oversleeping.

guess it's time to finally wake up...

welcome back to the torture zone!

2006-10-31T02:41:00.000-08:00

if exams could kill, i swear i'd charge that one for frustrated homicide.
i can't even begin to elaborate.
pure torment.
miracle if i pass.
graciousness.

get here

2006-10-30T07:15:00.000-08:00

can't get my eyes to shut and my mind to ease. i really should be sleeping now. khorki's fast asleep and is probably lost in dreamland. if it isn't her time of the year (she's having her period and for dogs, it comes only so often in a year-- she might be having some kind of dysmennorhea so let her sleep for sleepness's sake), i would have violently roused her to consciousness just for the thrill of it so i could split-secondly relieve my moment of sentimental grief. instead, i'm forced to listen to this blasted song... just so i could aggravate my emotional instability and my slight insanity for tonight. to get it done and over with. if i could get it done and over with. goodness. i really should be sleeping now.

really, i hated this song when i was younger. i found it stupid. i mean... is it that hard to get in touch with someone that you'd desperately try everything and anything? even the stupidest stupid thing? i mean really? i really should be sleeping now.

You can reach me by railway, you can reach me by trailway
You can reach me on an airplane, you can reach me with your mind
You can reach me by caravan, cross the desert like an Arab man
I don't care how you get here, just - get here if you can

where... i mean WHERE is this person coming from??!

You can reach me by sail boat, climb a tree and swing rope to rope
Take a sled and slide down the slope, into these arms of mine

ok... is he, by any chance, tarzan?

You can jump on a speedy colt, cross the border in a blaze of hope
I don't care how you get here, just - get here if you can

There are hills and mountains between us
Always something to get over
If I had my way, surely you would be closer
I need you closer

You can windsurf into my life, take me up on a carpet ride
You can make it in a big balloon, but you better make it soon
You can reach me by caravan, cross the desert like an Arab man
I don't care how you get here, just - get here if you can

oh i get it... it's aladdin.

I don't care how you get here, just -- get here if - you can

i was a kid... what did i know? i was stupid. now i can't get this song outta my overused, mangled brain-- now that it applies to me, now that i understand. all these, i'd try to get to him. damn. and yah, i wouldn't care too as to how he'd do it, i just would like him to be next to me right this very second before i change my mind and pull my menstruating dog back from dreamadia-- if that would compensate even just a millisecond of my longing to be with him again. goodness. i really should be sleeping now.

*sigh* if i had my way, you would definitely be closer...

i really REALLY should be sleeping now.

on expired relationships

2006-10-16T21:59:00.000-07:00

"When fatal things are happening, you don't know at that time that they're fatal. You get an inkling that they're Not Good, that they Haven't Helped, but only the passage of time will reveal just how bad they are."

-ANGELS by Marian Keyes-

the controversy

2006-10-07T07:35:00.000-07:00

mac and i.
infamous and immortal, i tell you.

fact#1
humans are innately born with larynges capable of producing sounds capable of transmitting words capable of communicating with other humans.

fact#2
humans are naturally abusive in a lot of ways but most significantly-- with power.

fact#3
the ability to communicate is power.

fact#4
gossip is a form of communication.

fact#5
gossip is power.

fact#6
humans are power-hungry.

fact#7
humans are gossip-hungry.

who wouldn't like to gossip? it's fun. it's inventive. it's a proven time-killer. it tests one's creativity to formulate fiction from facts and vice versa.

if it is considered a crime, i must surrender for having committed it. only to a certain degree though. and only to my mind's content. i never liked sharing my made-up stories with others. they might steal the magic of my imagination.

sadly though, people don't always think alike. the rest of the world think exactly the opposite of moi. they prefer to deliberately express their ideas as "facts". and the strangest and most irritating thing about it is that they actually believe in their own stupid lies. and why shouldn't they? to be an effective story teller, one would have to feel, act out and believe in his/her story. they become possessed by their own wicked pretensions. in effect, people around them, believe in their lies too. thus, the birth of the "new" truth.

you and me against the world. how romantic and how annoying. oh world, will you stop it already?

some people just don't give up. i must admit, i am amazed by their unfading and ever persistent fighting powers. but guess what, the only two people who will ever know the real story of us... is us. world, accept it... you are not part of our universe.

many have doubted our love for each other. but we never doubted each other. we know our love, we know our place, we know our time. us, here, now.

so, embrace defeat.

in my heart, i know what i feel and at the very least, i am not hiding anything from anyone. the love i have is genuine. i need not explain myself and i am not going to do so.

what i feel may be judged, may be doubted, may be revoked. but it can never ever be taken away from me. i am extremely satisfied to know that the recepient of that love feels it. that's more than enough consolation. so... who cares about the rest of the world when we've got our own universe already built up for us?

goodbye blues

2006-09-10T11:02:00.000-07:00

how hard is it to say goodbye?

it's actually easy to utter the words... it's the feeling that comes after that will haunt you. when you begin to absorb the gravity of the situation, it is only then that you'll notice the numbness of your body, the watering of your eyes and the heaviness of your heart.

it's always easy to bid farewell. just one wave of the hand and it's done. what makes it difficult though, is the uncertainty of time and the incessant contemplation of when you'll get to see the "goodbyee" again. Images of that moment will swim in your mind-- back and forth, up and down, dive and float. It will fill your heart with so much longing and cloud your mind from clear thinking then you start to breakdown in tears. You haven't even taken the first step away from that person and already, the longing of being together is burning inside you. you start to miss him even when you're still standing in front of him.

different people have different ways of saying goodbye. some say it rather coolly, acting as though it does not in any way affect them-- just a simple "see yah" then they disappear. but try to look for them and you'll see them crying their eyes out in one corner, probably in one of the aiport restroom cubicles or in the plane lavatory.

some, on the other hand, can't even begin to utter the first syllable of goodbye-- they've been howling since the morning of their departure that their voice just irrevocably retired that day. some would just walk away. some would just vanish without a warning. some would put in a lot of drama. some would just forget about the whole thing and stay.

however one chooses to say goodbye, it always results to just one thing-- creating an infinite space between the "goodbyer" and the "goodbyee". and it's sad however angle you choose to look at it. there's no comforting, no sweet talking. goodbye is goodbye.

... and it's kinda ironic that the same anguish of intense longing to see each other again is also the tiny hole of hope that will keep you going until that time finally comes.

Leaving Song - Stephen Speaks

2006-09-09T18:49:00.000-07:00

And everytime I think of you
I'll remember all the good times that we've had
And everytime I sing this tune
I will laugh, I will cry, I will close my eyes
'Cause I know that it won't be long

Until we sing, we will write
We will laugh away the night
And the good times will never end
When we meet again

And I'm gonna be somewhat lonely
'Cause you know no one could ever fill your shoes
As iron sharpens iron you have taught me how to be a stronger man
And I look forward to the day I learn again

We will sing, we will write
We will laugh away the night
And I know that it won't be long
Until we meet again

Though I wish that I were with you now
I know there's a reason for a space
I can dream of memories you're writing down
And I look forward to that day
And the smile on your face

We will sing, we will write
We might cry and we might fight
And the good times will never end

We will laugh, we'll relax, we'll reflect on the years we've past
And I know that it won't be long, until we meet again

And everytime I think of you

the reality of it all

2006-09-02T20:05:00.000-07:00

tonight, i cried my millionth tear.

on an earthly clock, exactly a week is left before i board the craft that would put thousands of miles (and a million more of my tears) between us. a single night is all it would take for me to officially be on the farthest, other side of his world. time is irreversibly melting away. i am left defenseless, hopeless and in pain-- a little bearable but definitely excruciating.

on my self-made clock, we only have barely an hour left. feels like time has all of a sudden decided to run away from me. i spent my days pretending that our everydays would never be over-- that time would come to a complete and abrupt halt when that moment of leaving comes. tonight, i realized that no matter how special i think our love is, time won't ever stop... not even for us.

word for the day: denial. (funny how almost all emotional illnesses root from this damned word). i have denied myself of reality. of accepting that sooner or later, we will part. (soonest, soonest-est, soonest-est-est)

and now, as sorry for myself as i am, all i could ever do is release my built-up tears. it's always difficult to leave and it becomes more difficult when i know that i'm leaving the best thing that ever happened to me... and in not knowing for sure when i'll come back to this moment again.

as much as i'm trying to postpone my moment of grief, i cannot hide this overwhelming sadness anymore. the situation is becoming as real as reality could get. and the more i'm realizing how heartbreaking the circumstance is, the more the clock tick-tocks itself away from my grip.

aaarrgghhh! can't get over it!!!

2006-08-26T22:02:00.000-07:00

slipped away in a moment too soon.
didn't have the chance, not even the slightest, tiniest glint of hope.
gone. it's all gone.
in an instant, disappeared into the abyss.
not one hint, not one sign.
just plain nothingness and nothingness.

freakin' wallet.

waaaaahh!!! why do bad things happen to good people! (a line overused by people claiming to be good, which happens to be me... for today.)

blech! i want to put the blame on someone... but who?? venting... venting. damn, i'm more affected than the aggrieved one.

got me depressed the whole day resulting to non-showering. ha! an excuse for me not to bathe myself! hey, too cold. no blaming me. will shower in a bit. darn wallet.

the point of the whole mac-sweater thingy

2006-08-26T17:00:00.000-07:00

26th of August 2006.
4 days after his 27th birthday.

*** by the way, this is the 3rd part... had to skip the 2nd part which is the gift-giving day--coming in a few weeks ***

How sweet is it to spend a fleeting moment with your one true love? To have him beside you. To hold his hand. To stare at his eyes. To have a glimpse of paradise.

How much sweeter could it get when you're both awake at 5:30 AM, with nothing to do but to be with each other? To have breakfast at the break of dawn with no care in the world (coz the rest of the world is asleep anyway).

As sweet as sweetness could get. Or probably a lot more sweeter than sweetness.

But then... when a few hours after the fleeting moment of that sweet-break-of-dawn-breakfast, he realizes he just lost his wallet... then everything will be turned into earth-shattering to the maximum level of shatteredness.

After our 5:30 AM breakfast at Denny's, we went straight home to get some sleep. After a rejuvenating deep slumber, we decided to get ready to go to the mall. He has been wanting to buy a new pair of shoes. It was when we climbed into his car when he uttered the most miserable words for the day -- "i just realized.. where's my wallet?"

We went back to Denny's twice, hoping that the wallet would magically re-appear on where we were seated. Maybe it was jinxed. Maybe I should have never gotten it for him. I was aiming for the mac-sweater anyway. Too late. He had it. We lost it. I swear I wanted to swim through the trash bins. Maybe some cold-blooded creature got the money and threw the blasted Kenneth Cole wallet in one of them. Wasted effort.

License, credit cards, money. I can feel his anguish. I felt it immediately after he blurted out the words wheres-my-wallet. Damn. I felt as if my own wallet got lost. Worse, I couldn't do anything to help.

It was the most expensive Denny's meal ever. There goes our morning ritual... Maybe next time, we should just cook our own breakfast.

Still wishing the wallet would miraculously show up. Meanwhile shine, you still have the mac-sweater and your good looks. That's a feeling-better start up.

Life goes on, with or without the wallet. Retrieval of cards and other paraphernalia will get done in a couple of days. The money-- hope it was of great help for the person who took it, otherwise our misery will be of waste. Next time, put your wallet in my bag. It's safer there, I think. ;p

mac-sweater

2006-08-26T15:24:00.000-07:00

19th of August 2006.
2 days before his birthday.

I knew exactly what I would get him. A few weeks before the aforementioned date, we went mall-strolling as usual. With the sweetness and thrill of new loves, we glided through the pathways, holding hands with occassional hugging and the natural attempting-to-be-charming smiles. We were proceeding peacefully, enjoying the scenic view of babies crying and teenage girls giggling when suddenly, he broke loose from my grip and took an abrupt turn. I twisted my head as fast as I could towards my left as I tracked his direction. There he was rushing inside, one of his favorite stores I'm assuming (what, with all the oh-yeah-I-came-here-with-a-girlfriend!) -- Banana Rep. Him, with a 'The Penguin'-like grin upon entering... I let him be.

He was already checking out some suits when I overtook him. I went straight to my favorite section, rummaged through the sale-tagged items (yes... with branded clothing, I only go for clearance). A few moments later, he got lost through the rows of hangered shirts and jackets. Getting annoyed, wrongly thinking he was going to trail behind me, I stretched out my giraffe-like neck and activated my lost-boyfriend radar. A few twists and turns then I found his head floating above the racks. I walked, more like half-ran, towards him ready for some nagging. When I got closer, I started to open my mouth to activate my nagging function when I was forced -- by no other than myself-- to shut it.

How gorgeous could a boyfriend be?
Well, if the boyfriend is Mac, wearing a black zip-up, groovy Banana Rep sweater; then he is as gorgeous as a gorgeous boyfriend could get.

From the full-length mirror, he fixed his gaze on me and gave me his usual one-eyebrow-raised-with-a-smile look. I swear I could have melted within seconds if I was made to be meltable. But since I wasn't, my stillness made me appear like a stiff wooden stick implanted halfway in a deep solid soil. Gathering my composure, I responded to his gorgeousness with an annoyed smirk. Of course, I didn't want to give him the impression that I was falling more and more in love with him. So a lying-annoyed-smirk would do.

The sweater. He fell in love with it. And I -- with him even more. I was certain. That was the one. The one perfect gift.

The real 19th of August 2006.
2 days before his birthday.

Finally able to return to Banana Rep. And, as if by the ill-fated power of the catastrophic gods, I found that the sweater was no longer in existence. It wasn't on display, definitely not one trace of it was on the racks. Gone. The one perfect gift... gone.

With a disappointed and rather earth-shattering look on my face, I left the store and walked around the mall. With no particular agenda, no particular direction. I was getting desperate when I remembered him saying that he wanted to ask my mom to buy him some fake signature wallets in Ruins back in the Philippines. Ting!Ting!Ting! A useless info suddenly made useful.

A wallet! Of course. I could give him one... not a fake one but an original. A designer one. I half-ran again towards one of the stores and immediately went for the wallets section. When I saw it, I liked it so much and thought that it would suit him. So I got it for him. A Kenneth Cole isn't that bad. But it didn't make me happy.

I just couldn't stop thinking about the mac-sweater. That was what he wanted and I wanted it on him. Some hidden agenda there. Out of extreme dissatisfaction, I went to Banana Rep again. Agonizingly, I asked the head-phoned lady to check for a black zip-up sweater that was displayed on this specific rack a couple of weeks before. They still might have it at the backroom. Unhesitatingly, she did check. After about 10 minutes of wait time, she re-emerged with a black zip-up sweater at hand. Quickly and with a forced-stopped jump, I grabbed it and examined it. And, as if by the power of the destiny-assigned stars, it was the exact same one! The last one on stock. The last mac-sweater meant for only him. Without second thoughts, I proceeded to the counter and made my purchase. I thanked the lady a million times. I swear I could have hugged her and asked her to jump for joy with me at that time.

(second part awaits...)

The Scientist - Coldplay

2006-08-23T17:08:00.000-07:00

this is by far the most heart-wrecking (heart-mincing, heart-grinding, heart-pulverizing), saddest, saddest song I've ever heard... haaaay life, so hard.

Come up to meet you, tell you I'm sorry
You don't know how lovely you are
I had to find you, tell you I need you
Tell you i set you apart

Tell me your secrets and ask me your questions
Oh let's go back to the start
Running in circles, coming up tails
Heads on a silence apart

Nobody said it was easy, it's such a shame for us to part
Nobody said it was easy, no one ever said it would be this hard
Oh take me back to the start

I was just guessing at numbers and figures
Pulling your puzzles apart
Questions of science, science and progress
Do not speak as loud as my heart

Tell me you love me, come back and haunt me
Oh and I rush to the start
Running in circles, chasing our tails
Coming back as we are

when love becomes a lie

2006-08-20T19:46:00.000-07:00

should you go on believing
should you go on pretending
should you go on hoping

when every minute spent is a lie
when each breath taken is a lie
when each heartfelt thought is a lie

should you go on with happiness
should you go on with togetherness
should you go on with endlessness

when a part of you hides
when a part of you fights
when a part of you dies

when bliss becomes lies
when eternity becomes lies
when love becomes lies

should you give your all
when you've already given your all
should you shut your eyes from grief
when each moment spent is a blinding reprieve

should you turn your back on truth
when love means lies.

something from mr.&mrs. smith

2006-08-16T23:59:00.000-07:00

"happy endings are stories that haven't finished."

hmm... makes sense.

"long long distance love affairs!"

2006-08-12T17:11:00.000-07:00

What makes up a relationship?
Love? Of course. But even the most passionate love relationships require an enormous sum of work, compromise, passion, passion, work, patience, a lot of patience, more patience, faith, passion, kindness and work. Not to mention occasional signs of sweetness, a series of constant constructive insults, and blah and blah.

When I say these things, I’m talking about normal love-hate relationships— those kinds with which the lovers in question aren’t thousands and thousands of miles apart. So, when distance comes into the picture, would these very elements suffice the potential life-long love affair? Hmmm….

Why be in a relationship?
Love? Well, that’s a given. When one is madly-crazily-insanely-and-dementedly in love, her immediate response is to plunge into “relationshipness”— with no care, no worries… just plain “happyfulness” and compulsiveness. Who can blame that person? Let love pass once and you’ll miss it forever, right? Right! A sure loss for the non-jumper.

You submerge yourself in deep commitment with the ultimate goal of being one— to go through your whole lives together soul in soul. Everyday you direct your path towards each other— discovering each other’s past, aspirations, laughter, tears, weirdness, strengths, weakness and even dumbness. You start rebuilding your life, with this person included in your daily must-haves. Gradually, with very tiny effort if not none at all, you learn to incorporate this creature into your so-called existence. A practice run of how your life would eventually become when the two of you officially bind your hearts in front of God. Nice.

But then… the unfortunate couples who, as if by the antagonizing power of the break-up devil, find themselves living across foreign seas, post this question…

“How will we start learning to live with each other when each morning, we adjust to living without each other?”

Sad.

Physicality is not all that makes up a lasting relationship.
Before we agree to this statement, let me first discuss the other essentialities that trail along with physicality.

As laid beforehand, couples enter into relationships with high hopes of forever spending their everydays together. They make amends every single waking day, adjusting to the other’s needs, wants, don’t wants and so on. Mannerisms, facial expressions, hand gestures, quirks, hygiene, eating patterns, driving maneuvers, daily must-dos, sleeping patterns, money spending, language usage, walking rhythms, vanity, punctuality, dance moves, singing ability, sports activeness, circle of friends, spirituality, etc.

Initially, these may seem shallow but these are the very factors that define your significant other. All these things = who he is. And these are the very things you will have to adjust to if you choose to spend the rest of your dear life with that person. Adjusting, of course, will take forever and it will require hard work, close observation and practice runs. Togetherness, in physical means, makes these adjustments possible.

Apart, what couples adjust to are the heart-attacking-money-spending in overly expensive phone bills, far too much radiation due to prolonged cellphone usage, almost sleepless nights waiting-for-dawn-on-the-other-side-of-the-planet and so on. You start to focus on these things rather than paying attention to the one who you do these things for. You start to grow— abandoned of real interaction, affection and comfort. Everyday, you lose grip of what’s important in your relationship. You start getting used to the feeling of being without that person. You start forgetting the feeling and eventually start unwanting the feeling. Thus, the fall of the so-called love affair.

I have often wondered why people prefer this kind of sorrow. Actual torment. Agony in the plainest sense. I have never believed in long distance relationships. I am a save-yourself kind of a person. I want it easy. I want it light. I want it not long distance.

Then I met him. Then I found love in him. Then I realized…

if long distance means taking the chance of being in this moment again,
of dancing slow through the music of sweet nothingness,
of embracing this overflowing affection,
of kissing my fears goodbye as I get lost in his touch,
of seeing my whole life through his worry-free sparkling eyes,
of feeling his breath as he whispers forever in my ears,

Then I’m a convert… Then I’m a believer.

Why go through long distance relationships? Because you’ll never know… it just might be your last ticket aboard never ending happiness. As for me, I’d rather take that lift than stray around forever.

between friendship and love

2006-08-07T19:12:00.000-07:00

Where do you draw the line between friendship and love?

Everyday just as we stick our foot outside the doorway, we immediately find ourselves coming in contact with people. Eccentricities. Different kinds. Bad ones and good ones. If by any chance fate steps in, one of those will inch his or her way to get closer to us. Surprisingly, as if by divine intervention, we permit that person to penetrate into our lives. A bit too late though, when we come to realize that our everydays will never be the same ever again. Sometimes in a good way, sometimes in an intensely agonizing way. How? Here’s how…

Borrowing a line from a song, “Got to believe in magic, tell me how two people find each other in a world that’s full of strangers.” Yah, this may sound lame but it makes a helluva good point. We meet people in the strangest of ways. You for instance, could crash into him while you’re running late for work on a crowded downtown street, carrying a Starbucks mocha latte or you could meet him at the Bart station while you’re desperately trying to break free your newly bought scarf from a strange man’s ugly dog’s tartared fangs. And this person is the one who will mean a lot to you... you may not know it by then… but he is the very one. Peculiar. Bizarre. Extra ordinary. Amazing. Headache in the making.

When that person manages to read through your ways, get along with you… you start to fancy him. You start to want to talk to him, see his smile. You get a longing to study him. Or a longing for him to study you. Danger zone.

You then allow him to be part of your weekly routine then daily routine then hourly routine… and he’s stuck in your mind forever. You may not realize it… and you may continually mask your I’m-in-deep-sh*t-coz-I’m-so-inlove-with-him as a he’s-just-a-very-very-good-and-close-friend-of-mine line. Yah right, who are you kidding? You think incessant denial can keep you from hearing the deafening drum roll in your heart? Think again. You may play deaf… but others will have a good hearing sense about it. It will show, no matter how hard you try to unproject it. Good if that person feels the same way but if not? Well, good luck picking up the pieces of your wretched-but-still-breaking-heart.

See, the problem with people is denial. The moment you realize your mistake, he has already gone on a weekend trip with his sweetie. Darn, all the time you were denying your feelings for him, he spent looking for someone who won’t. And you wonder… “Have I been denying it for that long? Or is it just that he found someone else so fast?” Either way… you just lost. So go on and rip your pillow until all the cotton fall off.

But are you about to give up just yet? Of course not. You’d think that since you’ve been friends for quite a “long” while, you can claim a right to demand some alone time with him— Regardless of the stripper/bitch/or whatever you choose to call his official girlfriend. Again, you deny that you are not and will never be his priority. A sad reality.

So where exactly do you draw this line? Where exactly do you know when you need to back off? Well, more often than not, you wouldn’t know. That’s precisely why you become so irritatingly clingy and so overly attached. Objections? Shut up.

The best way perhaps is to assess yourself. Find out why you’re feeling what you’re feeling. It will help too if you stop owning the person. He was never yours to begin with. You might have shared the same wants, shared the same sentiments for a time but that’s about it. That does not mean you can claim him and that does not, in any way, give you any right to meddle with his life… his work, his loved ones, his all. Back off… that’s the word. If you refuse to do it then you’re just immersing yourself in a way deeper sh*t. You’ll drown yourself in misery, gasping desperately for a chance to breathe again.

Great advice: Grab yourself a dictionary and look up the meaning of friendship. Know your limits and don’t whine about it because frankly, you don’t have a right to do so. If you want your friendship to be respected and kept… start respecting the commitment he has with his future wife— who happens to be not you.

Life does not end however. You still have the chance for a love to call your own. Don’t waste it by trying to win back something that you have never won in the first place.

editor's note: if the writer seems pissed... it's coz she is.

oh well...

2006-07-19T00:29:00.000-07:00

miss you already hon... and i haven't even left yet. 2 more months... sigh.

-the other side of the story-

2006-07-17T09:34:00.001-07:00

"Which would you rather be... Right or Happy?"

scribbling...

2006-07-13T22:32:00.000-07:00

It is evident.
For those who love me, no words are required.
They know, without a doubt, that i am in ecstacy.

I would tell them it's coz i have found myself here.

But a good friend told me, it must be coz i finally found that one person with whom i would want to share the rest of my life with...

She tickled my thinking and feeling nerve. With much contemplation, i realized she was right.

I went here with high hopes of finding myself... of discovering how i really want my life to turn out. I ended up not only learning more about myself... but eventually finding him as well.

I've never felt this light for the longest time. I've never felt so free and so alive. My life took an abrupt turn and I've never been this thankful that it did.

The road ahead is still uncertain. But I'm willing to face the uncertainties... and I'm willing to fight for that one certainty... for us to be hand in hand, heart by heart, soul by soul.

I never knew that the best moments of my life will be spent just talking... just walking... just singing... just rollerblading. I guess it's true when they say "the best things in life are free" and that the simplest of things are the ones that really matter. For as long as it's with him... simple becomes best and boredom becomes outrageous. Weird becomes him and it doesn't matter. We're weird together and that's alright.

I don't mind spending my everydays doing the same things over and over. I love laughing, I love fighting, I love eating, I love falling, I love life. And it's all coz he's in mine now.

By the way shine, thanks for reading my blogs... appreciate it. Can't wait to rollerblade with you again tom. Love.

letting it out

2006-06-24T10:09:00.000-07:00

it has been a while...
felt like pouring out myself again...

it was not and will never be bound to secrecy.
this little something that we have... well... not so little anymore.
we let ourselves out, we set ourselves free.
and i've never been happiest all my life.

i have hurt a person who has undeniably given me all that he has... a person who i loved.
i'm not proud of having done so but here's the thing... in life, we come and go. we touch a person's life in a way that will never be touched by others. we penetrate into a person's mind, heart and soul. we walk with him for as long as we can and for as long as chance allows us to. but facts are facts. sometimes we must leave . it's either we walk away or he walks away. this time, i walked away.

we have a set mission... a mission to stand by a person to make him strong enough, instilling values he must possess as he journeys on. of course, as we travel with him, we'd wish that our mission is to stay with him through all of eternity. sometimes that happens... but that didn't happen with me and him. i know exactly why.

i'm destined to be with someone else. someone who was molded by past heartaches to walk my journey with me... yes, through eternity.

me, walking away from a good relationship might seem like an act of selfishness. personally though, i don't perceive it that way. it would be more selfish to keep a person when you know in your heart that someone, who ever she is, could give him more than what you can... could give him the kind of loving that he truly deserves. staying is selfish. for both of you... or for us, in this case.

i can be happy. and i am. putting others' thoughts primarily would only ruin me. who cares about what the world thinks? i can't feel their happiness, i can't feel their pain. i feel for myself. i decide for myself. and this is what i choose.

i have found him and he has found me. in the most bizarreness of ways. 18 years ago, he was my most hated person. and now... he's my most loved. funny how things turn out. wonderfully funny and weird and just right.

i've never been happiest all my life. i can say that over and over not only because it's true but because i feel it every second that i breathe. we know that in this moment, right here... is where we're meant to be. i can never let this slip away.

this bliss... this state i am in... is what i have always dreamt of.
finally, it's real and i plan to keep it that way.
and the most-amazing-definitely-enchanting-and-overly-euphoric thing about it is that... he feels the same way.

too fast? nah... just about time.

change

2006-06-02T09:20:00.000-07:00

amazing how things can change in an instant...
and how it always turns out to be better... =)

=)

2006-06-02T09:11:00.000-07:00

God paved the way
There in the comfort of you, I lay.
Each day anticipating
For the sweet eyes, staring
At the wonderful life laid before
My eyes, opening the door
For new miracles.
The blazing flames conquer
The coldness inside, I hunger
for that warm embrace... Linger
in my mind, Linger in my heart.
Make me breathe, make me alive.

grey's anatomy

2006-05-28T11:28:00.000-07:00

"why do i keep hitting myself with a hammer?

because it feels so good when i stop."

UPSIDE DOWN - jack johnson

2006-05-25T10:31:00.000-07:00

Who's to say
What's impossible
Well they forgot
This world keeps spinning
And with each new day
I can feel a change in everything
And as the surface breaks reflections fade
But in some ways they remain the same
And as my mind begins to spread its wings
There's no stopping curiosity

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
I don't want this feeling to go away

Who's to say
I can't do everything
Well I can try
And as I roll along I begin to find
Things aren't always just what they seem

I want to turn the whole thing upside down
I'll find the things they say just can't be found
I'll share this love I find with everyone
We'll sing and dance to Mother Nature's songs
This world keeps spinning and there's no time to waste
Well it all keeps spinning spinning round and round and

Upside down
Who's to say what's impossible and can't be found
I don't want this feeling to go away

Please don't go away
Please don't go away
Please don't go away
Is this how it's supposed to be
Is this how it's supposed to be

chattering

2006-05-09T13:51:00.000-07:00

i did it.
i'm here and i'm staying.
still.
uncertainty creeps.
eating me up.
slowly.
entirely.
leaving the life i had.
starting anew.
giving in to risks.
surrenderring to independence.
submerging to loneliness.
choosing uncertainty.
hoping for tranquility.
in the vastness of this empty space.
and the stillness of multi-directional winds.
i'm here.
and i'm staying.
and hoping.
for the light.
shed the light.
help me find my way.
back home.
to the home.
where i truly belong.

my theme song =)

2006-04-02T05:00:00.000-07:00

BREAKAWAY 
-Kelly Clarkson-

Grew up in a small town
And when the rain would fall down
I'd just stare out my window
Dreamin' of what could be
And if I'd end up happy
I would pray

Trying hard to reach out
But when I tried to speak out
Felt like no one could hear me
Wanting to belong here
But something felt so wrong here
So I prayed I could breakaway

[chorus]
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget all the ones that I love
I'll take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway

Wanna feel the warm breeze
Sleep under a palm tree
Feel the rush of the ocean
Get on board a fast train
Travel on a jetplane, far away
And breakaway

[chorus]
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
I'll do what it takes till I touch the sky
And I'll make a wish, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
I won't forget all the ones that I love
I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway

Buildings with a hundred floors
Swinging round revolving doors
Maybe I don't know where they'll take me
But, gotta keep moving on, moving on
Fly away, breakaway

[chorus 2]
I'll spread my wings and I'll learn how to fly
Though it's not easy to tell you goodbye, gotta
Take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway
Out of the darkness and into the sun
But I won't forget the place I come from
I gotta take a risk, take a chance, make a change
And breakaway

Breakaway
Breakaway

bitten and shot

2006-02-23T17:26:00.000-08:00

I got my wish. I was finally able to find something to do with my Sunday and it turned out to be quite an adventure.

After the tears, my super mom irrevocably asked me to get it. I thought, okay… they would insist I don’t need it anyway so we went.

As the car pulled over, the first thing I asked her was… SARS? She said there was none. (I believed her, I trust her with my life.) I comfortably opened the door of my bro’s car, took the first few steps towards the main entrance. The cool afternoon air was breezing through my inquisitive face as if giving me a friendly greeting. I was ready to see some kind of ruin—maybe a foul smell or a crowded unsanitary hall. On the contrary—and I thank God a million times for it—it was nothing like that. True, traces of deterioration can be seen: scratched flooring, cracked door panel, peeled table, etc. The place was indeed old but it was clean and to that, I give them much credit.

The guard stationed at the admission section was courteous enough to welcome us and from the way he uttered his words, he seemed to get used to these cases already, “Anong nakakagat?”

My mom unhesitatingly replied, “Aso.”

He then immediately gave us a piece of parchment, asked us to pay the 20-peso fee. Until now, I still am not sure what that was for. After the short acquaintance with the guard, we proceeded to the information counter where a middle-aged woman commanded me to fill out three forms— one for my identification, the other is for my identification and the last is for my identification. She seemed to be in a hurry and she had that villain-like smirk on her face. That time, I was glad I write rather speedily.

Done with the paperwork, my super mom and I walked into a small area where 2 hospital beds, a number of monobloc chairs, a table and an almost rusting ref were comfortably positioned on the floor. It was unusually quiet. There were only 2 kind nurses in the room. They asked what had happened and my mom took the liberty of explaining how such an adorable, angel-like shih-tzu had mercilessly chewed my 2 bare hands. The bitch was just 8 months old. She had small teeth and was complete with her anti-rabies vaccination so there’s really no trouble there— or so I thought.

When the pink-bloused doctor came in, my misery began. She deliberately explained how the situation could be a threat to my life even if the dog has had vaccination. Turns out, a dog can only be proclaimed rabies-free when it had already completed three years of vaccination.

To add some more useful facts: Dog bites are classified into three categories. Category 1 is the licking category, no punctures or wounds inflicted. Category 2 includes all dog-inflicted wounds that did not bleed. Category 3 on the other hand involves dog-inflicted wounds that bled— and that was I. Tough luck.

The transformation of my face from I’m-fine-can-I-go-now to Oh-my-God-this-isn’t-happening might have been that evident because the doctor’s voice also turned from informative to empathetic.

I wanted to dash to the nearest exit. I never expected that they would give me a shot. I haven’t had any injections for the past I-don’t-know-how-many-years and I am not in any mood to break my record. I realized I was hopeless when the doctor and my super mom started discussing the pricelist of the medicines due to be injected on my sensitive skin. I am allergic to most medicines and was secretly praying that I also was allergic to whatever antidote they would give me. I didn’t want to go through with it. I was in a daze and heard only parts of their conversation— horse’s serum was the antidote. I definitely did not like the idea of putting horse’s serum in my blood stream.

I was still daydreaming of how I could ‘apparate’ from the hospital to Jolo when the doctor started computing the cost. This time, I carefully paid attention. The ‘injectibles’ were calculated by body weight. The heavier the patient is, the higher the dose, the more expensive it’s gonna get.

Mine was computed at 6k all in all. If I turned out to be allergic to the blasted horse’s serum, I would have to take the alternative, which they call “human”. That would amount to more or less 20k. Damn fats. If I had known that I would get bitten, I would have worked out first.

To find out if I am allergic to the blasted serum, they conducted a skin test. I thought, okay I could handle that. It couldn’t be that painful right? The nurse prepared a rather small syringe. Piece of cake, kagat lang yan ng laggam—again, or so I thought. The needle jammed right through my skin, buried deeper into my nerves and slanted a bit as if trying to separate my skin from my whole being. Twice that happened. It caused two bleeding holes on my arm with soreness and inflammation pounding around them. My knees instantly shook. I was still in a state of shock when I walked towards the waiting bench.

Thirty minutes after that heart-attacking moment, the nurse declared that I’m safe to be induced with horse’s serum. My worst nightmare had just begun. My super mom purchased the medicines (horse’s serum, anti-tetanus and many more) at the pharmacy. My knees were shaking still and shook some more when the pharmacist handed the bottles of meds. They came in different sizes, all monstrous.

We returned to the waiting bench. Surprisingly, kids from nowhere were also lined up for shots. Either they came from nowhere or I was just too much in a daze not to have noticed them beforehand. They were all dog-bitten victims. I was the only grown up due for a shot. Talk about pressure. How the heck could I show any sign of weakness when these kids were about to take the same course as mine?

The nurse finally called my name. Parents were looking at me as if waiting for some hullabaloo. Well, I ain’t gonna run under my mom’s skirt if that’s what you’re expecting. On second thought—I just might. They probably think I was that stupid to get bitten. Whatever. I couldn’t care less. My doom had come.

I sat at the green monobloc chair next to the nurse who would decide my fate. It felt like I was sitting on an electric chair. God help me.

I was watching her as she was sucking the medicines out of the bottles. Small, small, medium to super large syringes were properly situated on the table. I glanced at my super mom to try to beg her to take me away. I had the look of Puss in Boots when I saw her purposely looked at the opposite direction. Given a choice she would have sprinted to the nearest exit before I can even take my first step out.

The torture began. The nurse took the first syringe and jammed it into my left arm then on the right then on the left again then on the right. That’s four already! She got a medium-sized syringe and this time asked me to lower my shorts. She was aiming for my butt. Damn. Five. Those five shots were tolerable. It didn’t hurt that much so I thought I could go on. She then picked up the super large one. My eyes widened, I am sure they wanted to pop out from their sockets. She took my hands— she was going to inject it on the wounds that bled! I was calling on all the saints that time. She said it was going to hurt and it did. Terribly. She injected the drug twice on my right hand and once on my left. That’s eight. I was relieved to see the syringe still almost half full. I comforted myself by saying “at least we didn’t have to finish the whole of the syringe.”

Then she uttered the words that almost made me deaf. “Last na to… uubusin natin sa hita mo.”

I was in total amazement. If you have just seen how huge the syringe was and how plenty the drug in it still was, I’m pretty sure you will faint in an instant. She was already positioning the syringe when I moved away a little. I was begging for some time to relax. My hands were swelling a great deal and I was shaking all over. I breathed deeply and moved towards her. Then it happened. It lasted for about two minutes. That was how much liquid there still was in the blasted syringe. I couldn’t even begin to describe the pain as the drug penetrated into my leg. My hands bled again from my fierce grip at nothing. My mouth was wide open when I forced to ‘unshut’ my eyes. That was the ninth and final shot. I immediately searched the room for my super mom who I found still looking at the opposite direction. I thought that was it, I was drugged.

After another thirty minutes, we were released from the hospital. We went home with peace in our minds. I’m scheduled for 6 more shots until next month so that won’t be the last time we’d be seeing that hospital but I assure you, that’s gonna be the last time I’ll ever touch a shih-tzu for the rest of my dear life.

2006-02-22T23:53:00.000-08:00

hearing this song makes me wanna fall in love over and over... i think it's worth sharing. enjoy!

NEXT TO YOU
by dan siegal feat kenny rankin

If I had me a bag of good wishes
There's no mystery to what I would do
I would use all my magical powers
And try to get next to you

I would bring you a field of flowers
As your lucky star would do
With my heart I would paint you a rainbow
If I could get next to you

There's so much we can share
However far too long

We both know that there's so much here
This is where I belong

Late at night when I close my eyes
Make believin' that you are here
Dreamin' of the things we do
If I could get next to you

In my mind, Ooh ooh, I have kissed you
And it feels like a thousand times
I'd lose track of all the hours
Dreamin' I'm next to you

This is where I belong

Late at night when I close my eyes
Make believin' that you are here
Dreamin' of the things we do
If I could get next to you

In my mind, Ooh ooh, I have kissed you
And it feels like a thousand times
I'd lose track of all the hours
Wishing and hoping
That I could get next to you

bridges...

2006-02-15T20:31:00.000-08:00

"this kind of certainty comes but just once in a lifetime."

life life life

2006-02-15T20:08:00.000-08:00

Life isn't about struggling to be someone. It's about believing that you are already someone. It isn't about striving to please the world but in knowing that you are already cherished by those who love you...

and that they are the ones who matter.

sleepless

2006-02-01T19:09:00.000-08:00

another sleepless night...

just thought of dropping a line...

2 hopefully shed some light...

you are my soul, an entity so divine...

2 hold you near, i'll struggle with all my might...

doubt no more, i pledge to thee...

a love so infinite, so pure, so real.

dear red ribbon

2006-02-01T18:41:00.000-08:00

December 17, 2005

MANAGEMENT
RED RIBBON
SOUTHMALL, LAS PINAS

To Whom It May Concern:

I am writing to you with great concern and dismay. Last Friday, December 15, 2005, I purchased 10 pieces of your ensaymada to serve to my guests that night. Surprisingly, as one of them was about to open the ensaymada, she saw a black thing buried on the surface of the bread. At first glance, she had mistaken it to be a raisin (on an ensaymada?) but looking at it more closely, it was undoubtedly identified as-- a fly.

You can just imagine the embarassment of the situation, having those visitors come only once a year and serving them with contaminated food. Worse, if she had not noticed the fly on the ensaymada, she might have consumed it and acquired a disease out of a Red Ribbon pastry.

It's truly an enormous disappointment having a big company like Red Ribbon perform such careless acts. Imagine yourself eating a seemingly sumptuous bread only to find out that its stuffing is a big fat fly.

I am hoping that we can arrive at a resolution on this matter. My family and I would like to see immediate action towards this incident.

Respectfully,
Anne-Marie De Jesus
(complainant)

STATUS OF COMPLAINT
a month after formal complaint: investigation still in process --> will disclose details in 'dear red ribbon: part 2'
almost 2 months after formal complaint: forgotten?

dreams: part two

2006-01-25T18:14:00.000-08:00

(At long last… THE part two)

I’ve been lost for the longest time. I’ve been running around bare-footed and armor-less in a huge, monstrous, devious, jungle— a jungle where predators/ beasts/ sons of Judas can attack anytime. So, I realized that I was going nowhere and I stopped. I laid there in the comfort of a bushy tree, tricking myself into thinking that I was safe. In actuality, I was still lost.

I had a good talk with *smirk* a good friend and he told me that I should stray away from my blasted comfort zone. True. When I decided not to dream, it was because I didn’t want to hurt anymore. I didn’t want the world to step on me anymore. The consequence was— I also built a wall separating me from earth. I have become a zombie. Walking around— brainless and heartless, with nothing to do but to pester real people and try not-so-hard to become a burden.

Haaay life. I used to be so exuberant. I lost it. I didn’t want to go out and experience life anymore. I decided to secure myself by hiding under my parents’ care. I found every reason to justify my acts. I would always comfort myself by saying, “in fairness, marami na akong na-achieve.” Buti na lang this friend of mine woke me up by saying, “in unfairness, marami ka pang hindi na-achieve.” Toink! Oo nga naman. I’m 23 and I shouldn’t be contented with what I have now because I still have the capability to have more. And besides, I know my parents love me that much to hurt every time they see me wasting my life.

In conclusion, I realized that I have to start moving again. Take tiny steps to find my way… go somewhere, anywhere. And if I don’t like it there, I’ll just have to take another route. I might not find the right place right away but at least then, I would know where I don’t want to be… and that’s a start.

darn

2005-12-28T21:46:00.000-08:00

so overly pissed. hated vibe so much that i just had to take advantage of that darn dsl promo. who would have thought that a week later i would end up in an internet cafe? demmit. down for 4 whole days! eeeeee! major nightmare!

aaawww....

2005-11-26T18:20:00.000-08:00

How can one hide a love buried deep but very much alive
How can one scrap memories so sweet, unforgotten but set aside

How can one whisper words so soft and yet pierce deep into the soul
How can one feel the height of happiness only to fall scornfully into the darkness

How can something so sanely real become extremely foolish
And something so pure become treacherously treacherous

How can something so clear be so vague
And something so simple be so damn complicated

How can such a blissful word become so irritatingly agonizing
And such an endearing name bleed over and over in the brain

How can one fall...
and fall...
and fall...
over and over
For a love that can never be.

How can one love someone more than what he is.
And unlove someone inspite of what he already is.

(just another one of my blabberings...)

'dreams'

2005-10-16T19:49:00.000-07:00

I guess it's true when they say you stop living when you stop dreaming.

When I was younger my dreams were infinite. I would dream the wildest of dreams --The most far-fetched, the weirdest... the most spectacular. Then I stopped.

Why? I grew up. No... that's not it. It's more proper to say that the world woke me up.

How can one stay in an endless euphoric dreamy sleep when every second, reality hits you hard in the face?

Yes I blame the world, I blame the truth. It stripped me of my purpose, of my meaning, of my life.

I once dreamed of something BIG and when I was just a step closer to it, I took a step back. No... a thousand steps back. I figured... sometimes dreams are best left as they are--DREAMS. They are more beautiful, more inspiring that way. When they become real, they become excruciatingly painful, complicated, excruciatingly painful, complicated, excruciatingly painful, complicated (command: LOOP) And unless your heart can endure all the anguish, desperation, frustration, and sickening infuriation then it's better to turn away from it than having to go through a lifetime in search for your lost sanity.

My life's dream has become my life's greatest trauma. Damn. 21 years of dreaming THE dream and in an instant-- shattered.

2 years from that day and here I am... void of dreams, void of purpose, void of meaning, void of life.

(to be continued...)

enlightened?

2005-09-30T09:35:00.000-07:00

got tired of the pressures of achieving so much in such little time. Thought it was time to break away. Try to get on top gradually... Floating... Freely. Unstable? Yes but getting there. Rockily. But Focused. Experimental. Hopeful. Exploring, anticipating. Triumphant on its own and yet victory is still at hand.

blabbering

2005-07-23T20:42:00.000-07:00

If you are tasked to do something and you finish it in time or even ahead of time, make sure that you'll be proud to show it to the world otherwise, all will be worthless and your hardship will be senseless. The point is, the quality of your work reflects who you really are. Think, what's the point of producing something when you know in your heart that the output will be a discredit to you? It's like accepting from the start that you will fail.

senseless

2005-07-04T21:34:00.000-07:00

nagtatrabaho ka para mabuhay
pero nabubuhay ka para lang magtrabaho...

freakin' job

2005-06-24T20:22:00.000-07:00

why is it that you can easily say no to a loved one but can't say no to work?

is this how life's supposed to be now?

why live then-- when you can't enjoy the company of those you love anyway?

can't we just change the freakin' system of this world?

it's getting senseless everyday.

mourning...

2005-06-04T20:57:00.000-07:00

It has always been a wonder how things go the way they do.
A puzzle why things happen to who.
A mystery how one loses.
A shock when things happen the time it chooses.

Harsh realities. Here we go again. Just recently, someone almost close to my heart had died. Just writing that single word— “died” makes me shudder… of pain, of anger, of amazement, I don’t know. And really, I don’t care to know.

The past week, my mind has been a total blank. Obviously, grief is taking over the whole of me. Yes, I scornfully mourn for having lost that person. But more than death, I mourn for and about life.

Some might find this a bit peculiar. But when a person, like me for instance, has been wanting for the longest time to discover what lies beneath the anguish and the burdens of this so-called existence and finally getting close to solving the mystery but all of a sudden a disastrous thing happens… then another… then another… how would one supposed to feel? How would one supposed to react?

It’s easy to say that there’s a deeper purpose for all these. But how deep is deep? Apparently, so deep that it becomes incomprehensible. What’s the purpose of the deeper purpose if the purpose is incomprehensible? Useless, senseless, worthless.

Naturally, one loses the will, the courage and the force to go on. Can you blame that person?

Tragedy is an appalling and devastating parade of tiny disastrous to huge horrible catastrophic series of miseries —the lightest way I can describe it— and yes, it can claim victory for having succeeded in turning my life into nothingness.

What is the meaning of life? Sure we get tiny droplets of joy once in a while. Are these the very essence of life? Oh come on. One million nails and needles and all you get is just a shrewd minute cut of bliss? Who are you kidding?

Given the predicament, the question remains… is it more rightful to mourn for death than to mourn for life?

[part two coming up]

normality

2005-04-24T04:07:00.000-07:00

it's okay to be wrong... it's human nature.
but when you hurt someone in the process,
acknowledge your mistake
and be sincere with your apology.

the realization

2005-04-10T19:11:00.000-07:00

In a span of two weeks, I have had innumerable realizations… mostly about myself; how I deal with every single destructible and demoralizing thing that happens simultaneously, leaving me with no options but to catch up without breath.

When tragedy comes, it comes by bunches, one ill thing after another. In this situation, coping is never associated with the word easy. So how does one survive?

Cliché but heck… Count your blessings.

I know it’s dark where you stand now and your senses are focused primarily on your wretched-but-still-breaking-heart… But believe that there’s still a flicker of hope sparkling inside you. Let it start a fire in your heart. The flames will guide you through the darkness. You are the light.

It is only then that your revitalized brain can decipher the sight of the many splendors of your world and the ultimate feeling of being loved.

life lesson for the day

2005-04-10T07:10:00.000-07:00

when one person rejects you, it doesn't mean that you don't deserve to be loved.

stop focusing on those people who do not reciprocate the affection you're giving. open up your heart and acknowledge the few valuable ones who, in every possible way, try to reach out to you.

come to think of it...your worth does not depend on strangers. it's within you.

the number of acquiantances you have will not matter. in the end, you'll come looking for the people who truly understand and accept you. those people who, even if you've done countless inexcusable and unwise things, will still stand by you, will be strong for you and will assure you of better days.

rediscover yourself. do the things you want and the things you're good at. it will help uplift your spirit.

always remember that you're good. you are a person worth loving. accept yourself. be happy that you are you. after all, you're not that bad... =)

stop letting others put you down--- they're insignificant. that's why you should not let them control you. think... if you let them harm you, you're also letting them hurt the ones you love who worry about you.

2005-04-08T20:21:00.000-07:00

bitter... recovery in progress

words to live by

2005-04-08T18:43:00.000-07:00

Don't settle for anything less than what you really want just because you lost the faith of ever having it!

accepting fate...

2005-04-08T11:07:00.000-07:00

I loved you with all the love that I have. I gave you myself and even the world. But still you wanted more and asked to be free. It was hard but I found the strength to let it be. And when I did, you flew so far. I ran after you, I didn’t want to lose you. But the more I ran, the farther you flew. I guess you were afraid that I would again take hold of you. I was in agony when I realized you were no longer in sight. I had nothing to do but breakdown and cry. I shouted your name time and again, hoping you would change your mind and stay. But the more I shouted, the lonelier I felt. My eyes were swollen and my heart was broken. It took a while then I got used to the feeling. I missed you but I decided to learn to smile again. Day by day I rediscovered myself. I know now what was wrong and I have indeed carried on. I ran again but it wasn't to follow you. I ran because I realized I was left behind while I was with you. Slowly, I spread my wings and flew. I was so happy to be free then I saw you from afar; it seemed you broke your wing. I wanted to help you but I knew you'd drive me away. And so I flew again then I heard you call my name. I was so far from you; I couldn’t afford to go back. The wind kept pushing me away. I guess you called my name a little too late. And so to you I shout these last few words… “I’m sorry I can’t look back, if I do I might stumble again…heal your wings and learn to fly. Let’s see if tomorrow you’d find me again…”

wastin' away...

2005-04-07T16:00:00.000-07:00

Each day’s gettin’ a bit heavier
I've got you on my mind
Every second,
Just trippin' along this hollow space in my heart
Forever shouting your name,
Saying you’re the one, my only one…

I was wrong
And if it’s the only thing I’d ever do right,
I admit.
Screaming your name silently in my heart
Don’t wanna hold you back but desperate to hold you tight
If it’s gonna be the last time,
I accept.
This one’s certain, you’ll never look back.
Over and over, photos of you in my head
Hearing my heart break, shatter into bits
Peeping into a keyhole of chance to open up your heart again.
Stagnant in the rain, knowing I was wrong,
Holding myself back and letting you fly.

Anguish is my pillow as I try to sleep tight
Conscious and subconscious,
Dreamin’ of your face
Hit your head hard and fell, healed then went away

This heart’s gonna beat for you all its days
Loving you’s all it knows
Go and it flies with you,
Beats and lives for you
All its days…

blah blah...

2005-02-05T11:47:00.000-08:00

It has been ages since I last got my hands to write. It must be this severe boredom or this strong and passionate drive inside me, telling me that if I don’t practice my writing, the power will escape my intellect soon.

Two months have already passed since my last job. Since then, I’ve been stagnant. My mind is becoming nothing but a floppy disk--- insubstantial, brittle and so out of style. The knowledge in here is still of Jurassic era. Sad, but so true. Got to find something, got to move, got to keep up, got to replenish and nourish my remaining wits…if there really is any left.

I’ve been spending a lot of time in front of the computer, looking busy, pretending I have loads of things to do. In reality, I’m just wasting away. I’ve developed this ultra-beguiling-super-powerful capability to type 200 words per minute. That is, if jmasnpv jasudpw ueofucnsap could be considered words.

Geez, exercising the mind is even harder than physical fitness and, FYI… I hate physical fitness! It’s like the most exhausting, yucky, I-don’t-see-no-results type of activity that I wouldn’t do even if you sue me. Damn it, writing used to be so easy for me, like trash floating-in-the-river and pollution-taking-over-the-whole-of-the-earth easy. Now it’s starting to get oh so difficult. World-peace difficult. Almost impossible.

I'm running out of things to blabber about. Even I myself am bored with my writing! Sheesh! Is there anything out there that I'm good at?? Waaaah! I need professional help. I have lost my worth and now, my sanity...

love's insane!

2004-12-14T12:18:00.000-08:00

it builds your world then ruins it. gives you someone to share everything with then drags him away and takes your everything with him. gives you all the happiness in the world then steals it away and takes your world with it!

hardest part of loving

2001-01-17T08:00:00.000-08:00

I think, the hardest part of loving is hiding the pain every time you see the person you love coz you know in your heart that he wouldn't care even if you cry and drown in your tears. Sometimes, it's better to pretend that you're not hurting to protect yourself from further pain. Sometimes when your heart is wounded enough and when it aches so bad, you just want to rip it out of your body... get love out of your system. But you cannot do that. So you have to endure the sorrow... the slap in the face, the stab in the heart. Often times your heart wants to scream, wants to release itself from pain... you want to complian, condemn... But then again, if you did, the whole world might turn against you. You're helpless, defenseless. You have no right at all. And so the heart weeps silently... torturing the mind...