PRANAYAMA

This, too, shall pass.

2012-01-21T22:13:00.000-08:00

Day 052/365-Pink Balloon by contemplicity

When I feel like things have been disorganized in my life lately, I knew I have to fix something. I knew I have to start somewhere. Anywhere. I just need to feel that things are and feel right before I can begin again. It always brings me back to that childhood memory of myself sitting in my brother's room, staring at the blinking cursor of the desktop monitor. No matter how I force myself to start doing that paper, I just can't. Why? Because behind me is a visual clutter of my brother's bed. So...even if it wasn't my bed and it wasn't my room, I clean it. I have to. Otherwise, I'll just stare at that monitor for hours and sulk. And be unproductive. And be a dysfunctional little kid.

So yesterday, I cleaned my closet. It has been in a very lamentable state for months now that if I even dare imagine the Pevensie children opening it, they'd be taken to a land far less magical than Narnia, where they will cry and cry and be miserable all their lives (I'm sorry, children).

Anyway, I cannot understand why I have so many clothes. And this epiphany did not come up just because I saw "Love, Loss, and What I Wore" the other night, which, by the way, was a funny, flattering ridicule to women and their heels, purses, bras, boots, and to just being a woman (Cue in Beyonce's 'Who Run the World' song please, thankyouverymuch). I found all types of sad clothes in my closet--clothes that I haven't touched since I bought them a year ago, clothes from two Christmases ago, clothes that was lost under the heavy stash of other clothes that I also barely touch, clothes that I cannot remember why I bought them, and clothes that I have already outgrown.

Apart from clothes, I also keep some of my personal belongings in my long-forgotten closet--most of these trash which I have convinced myself for years ARE NOT trash.

As I was rummaging through heaps of clothes and 'trash' for hours, I had to face a veritable truth: We keep moving forward. And moving forward always entails some form of fearlessness to finally let go of things we have been holding onto for some time.

I battled (mentally) with myself, responding very firmly to every dissenting thought that came up while I make space in my closet little by little--But this top is the cutest! I bought this on sale! This can't be two sizes smaller than me now, I'll find a way. These souvenirs ARE souvenirs. Who gives away Lacoste? I'll grow into it...someday.

After hours and hours and hours of cleaning and answering 'Whatever' to almost every opponent's argument in that cerebral Debate ('Almost' because some items, clothes for instance, managed to appeal and proved their worthiness to be part of my Clothes-To-Alter section, next to my sewing machine), I have more than half of my closet's contents taken out and more breathing space for clothes that I would really wear and things I would really use.

I don't think I have taken everything out though. There are things in there, which I know might continue to sit in there without use for me, and, which years from now, I would begin arguing with myself again about throwing out---the outcome of which I do not know for now.

Bottom line is, things change. Life happens. Letting go of things that you believed was right for you some time but is now only leaving an unhealthy clutter in your mind is a challenge worth facing. I may never know how my life will turn out in the future, but I'd like to believe everything's going to be alright. The struggles we face, and the uneasiness we feel for a moment from all these chaotic life encounters, will disappear all the same.

After I finished with the day's closet work, as I was about to take a bath, I overheard my sister-in-law speaking to her child, my nephew, Miles. Miles is a cute little angel who hates hiccups and cries and cries when it gets too much for him to handle. My sister-in-law was telling him, in her sweet, low voice, "It will pass, son. It will pass" (Mawawala din yan, anak. Mawawala din yan.)

When I heard that, I smiled. Sitting in the toilet listening to that might not be the best context to get profoundly emotional and insightful at that time but it was a peaceful and inspiring moment.

"This, too, shall pass." Miles may be too little to understand it but when he grows up, he'll know just what his mother meant. Growing up, his parents would tell it to him time and again, and he will believe or disbelieve it the best way he can. But he will learn that everything is alright. And that acceptance--letting go and lifting up one's cares and worries and troubles to life's changing seasons--will hurt for a while but not for all time.

We keep moving forward.

So let's hold onto both comforting and miserable places (and closet spaces) we find. Breathe them in. And when they go, let us open our hearts to acceptance, freedom, and gratitude. After all, everything is going to be alright.

All you need is.

2011-12-25T05:35:00.001-08:00

This year's Christmas has been different.

Apart from not having most of the family around the Christmas tree and Noche Buena-full table, at my grandparents' house, I also slept through Christmas eve.

And I probably dreamt about Santa and carol singers and myself on 3rd grade singing and dancing to Jingle Bell Rock. I don't know. But I do wish my dream was Christmas-y enough to make up for my missing the gift-giving and that time when everyone else was awake, greeting each other a 'Merry Christmas,' when the clock struck 12.

Yes I missed those. But I did wake up on Christmas morning to the sound of my mother's voice, and my sisters asleep beside me.

I woke up in a home, with my family. I could miss everything but that. We may not be complete this time of the year, but we have love to cover all the miles and distance apart. Cheesy but true.

It's the simple things that matter after all. Not just during Christmas but e-ve-ry-day.

In the words of The Beatles, 'All you need is LOVE.'

Merry Christmas, world! :)

Sing your song.

2011-11-27T08:41:00.001-08:00

You are the world. The world is yours.

That moment when you can just sit and think and reassess your life—we always think of it as an elusive acquaintance with ourselves, like a very still photo that we cannot quite capture. Sitting mindlessly in the boarding area of the airport, awaiting to leave my busy life for three days (and listening to the music of Jason Mraz while at it), I ponder on how life is always happening and how things are always changing…and how time—no matter how it may baffle us with questions—has always been a companion that’s just waiting for us all along.

And then I think about that opening scene in the film “Love Actually.” I have been fortunate to keep a copy of the screenplay—a gift from a friend years ago. I revisited the line in my head: “General opinion's starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don't see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it's not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it's always there - fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends.”

Discreetly, I looked around from my seat and studied the faces of people around me—the art geek on his Macbook, the twenty-something guy standing by the rail watching the sunset, the photographer intently behind his lens, the group of Europeans asleep in their seats. All these people are waiting. We are all waiting.

Waiting to be somewhere. To get somewhere. To find ourselves somewhere.

But do we ever stop to think that maybe it is time that is waiting for us? It is life that is waiting for us?

Perhaps the world has become complacent, and is still becoming increasingly comfortable with the idea of laters and somedays and the abstract state of time, that it has regarded everything as a matter of luxury meant to satisfy worldly appetites, than of brief, untangled moments that speak truth about why we are alive, why we exist.

Love is all around. So is time and the opportunity to talk with ourselves and share how we feel. To give a stranger a smile. To ask forgiveness and forgive. To share your talent. To give your loved ones a hug. To make somebody feel special even for just a day. To thank someone. To tell someone he/she is beautiful.

Do we need to wait to send our love to ourselves and the people around us?

We live in a world where everything has become fast and instant. If we are ever going to get busy, we might as well get busy living. That is, not forgetting that we are here and that time is a friend that’s always on our side—if only we take the time to realize it. Yes, it is not particularly dignified or newsworthy but it is always there.

Back to the boarding area, I grabbed my bag as I headed out to my plane. In my ears, Mr. A-Z (and my self-confessed soulmate, by the way) is singing, “Well I don’t wanna wait no more. Oh I wanna celebrate the whole world. I’m gonna make it mine…Oh yes, I’m following your joy.”

Don’t let life pass you by. Make it yours.

Let’s go. Let go.

2011-07-08T03:26:00.001-07:00

Boat ride to Balicasag Island, Bohol. 2011.

Chugging along the quiet roads and waters of Bohol, one cannot refrain from musing about the simplicity of the lives led by the locals, and of the colors--albeit experienced sporadically by many—substantially overshadowed by the grey and dark in the world.

I don’t know of anyone who does not want to travel. To experience some place different from what they’re used to. To meet new people and learn from them. To connect with the rest of the world in a non-mediated fashion.

Even just once.

The only sad thing about travels, as Earl pointed out to me, is the thought that not everyone is privileged to see the world. Yes, the global economy has removed geographical borders, consequently paving the way for more accessible tourism, especially with the emergence of cheaper air fares and attractive tour deals. However, only those who have the means to actually travel CAN travel, however ‘cheap’ plane tickets, or however ‘convenient’ booking, has become.

I would never know what goes on inside the head of a young child living in a meager home, filling his/her notebook with drawings of far-off places he/she hopes to visit someday.

I am, however, humbled by people, who, despite growing up not getting to see these far-off places, remain positive about life. People, who, despite not having experienced places outside their own, have become faces of tourism themselves—proudly speaking about their local communities and inspiring other tourists to take pride in their own as well.

Listening to their stories, I then think that maybe travelling is as exciting as it is because there’s always this sense of mystery, which is not just hidden behind every historical site or native food or annual festival, but is also ever-lingering in the stories of these people who haven’t been anywhere else, but, who, ironically, present the best lifetime trip travelers could ever take---that trip to the lives of people who could only travel in their dreams, with hearts bursting with pure passion for some place they wish to reach.

Didn’t we all start with raw dreams?

Lucky for some of us, these raw dreams of being somewhere else turn into reality. For some, this does not happen.

But I do not think that I am more fortunate than them or that they are less fortunate than me or anyone who can travel. For all I know, they could even have richer experiences than all the ‘well-travelled’ people of the world combined.

Nonetheless, I do wish they get to see what you and I see. Maybe. Someday.

And then, I wish you and I would see what they see, too.

That way, travel will become more than sheer globe-trotting, but a shared and conscious experience of truly existing and of being--connecting, discovering as well as rediscovering, appreciating, and hopefully, creating a difference in the lives of all dreamers out there, including yours. An aimless trip that doesn’t arrive, but only keeps going.

That way, everyone might endlessly experience the beauty of the world, which is simply overflowing among us, and in our unique, individual stories.

“Travel is more than the seeing of sights; it is a change that goes on, deep and permanent, in the ideas of living.” – Miriam Beard

Coming home.

2011-05-24T23:16:00.001-07:00

i took off my shoes by Danielle Moler

The house has been different of late. Felt differently, too. It seems empty although it isn’t. Mom has been in the US for quite some time now. We sisters manage having the house all to ourselves, looking after ‘home’ stuff and, well, of each other.

Now, waking up everyday brings thoughts I would hardly entertain if I were in another time in the past, particularly in smaller pajamas. Childhood was colored with morning cartoons and playing outside and discoveries that made my young self giddy with wide eyes and little, grand episodes of whoa-look-at-that tugging of somebody else’s shirt. It was a carefree time. And I didn’t even know you have to pay for cable tv, and that there are such things as credit cards.

Sometimes I wish life was as simple. Now, I’d open my eyes in the morning and reminisce about how things have changed—the ceiling looks closer, the furniture are smaller, and I don’t have to jump anymore or stand on my toes to see myself in the wall mirror.

How ironic is that? As a child, I thought of the world as a vast universe filled with so many unfamiliar things I’m excited to explore. Everything looked gigantic and limitless. Growing up, you’d expect it to be even bigger, not to mention, endless. But knowledge and experience make you think otherwise. As we learn, the world becomes smaller; perhaps because we acquire a sense of knowing and control over things. Then, at one point, we become frustrated and ask, “Is there anything else out there?'”

“But there was plenty supply of anythings out there when I was young.”

As I was contemplating this thought over breakfast recently, I realized I was being unkind to myself, and that all other people who succumb to self-indulgent thoughts of being bored about life, are also being unkind to themselves. Why would we even go about comparing our present state with our previous state?

The mysterious truth is no matter how things change, the important things remain the same. And these things, once you’ve figured them out, and you’ve taken them all in, deserve a celebration, with little songs of gratitude here and there.

Yes we learn, we become independent, we grow past the people we used to (literally) look up to, and we become confident in conquering the world. But is there truly a world to ‘conquer’? I say none. Because the world is bursting with the same colors and a-ha moments and fits of laughter we experienced as a child. To direct our lives toward a finish line takes the life, out of, well…life. It’s best to view the world as we would the time we’re learning to ride a bike or fly a kite—big, curious, wonderful, exhilarating, with endless tomorrows and thousands of opportunities to learn, fail, succeed, get hurt, be loved, and laugh at ourselves from time to time.

At 22 years old, to me, the world is inviting. Although family members are moving out of the house, and new members are joining (*excitement*) faster than one could imagine, and old habits are dying (Phoebe now comes to me when I call her name! Thanks to The Dog Whisperer - YAY), and new interests are brewing, life as we know it is the same.

How fascinating time’s intricate way of transporting us to places both unfamiliar and familiar. Even more fascinating is that single, majestic, and immensely gratifying moment we realize that we haven’t really gone far. That we have always been that young child looking up at the sky wondering why it’s blue, always imagining what’s on the other side.

Studying the frames of family photo in my parents’ room, I embrace change and let go of fears that my adult self has created out of needless nostalgia. Home is never lost, I tell myself.

I understand now that houses will look and feel different over time. But the true treasures and dreams we grow up with do not have to.

(I realize this post should come with a soundtrack. And this song by Priscilla Ahn, I believe, just hits home. :) )

Dear Marmee.

2011-05-05T23:01:00.001-07:00

There are things we
never
outgrow.

Like turning to
our mother when
we’re sick.
Coming home to
her, mad and crying
and cursing
the world,
when we’re
hurt;
Eager to
be inside
that kind,
comforting,
embrace--
priceless.

You tell her
of your
everyday’s, as
she muses, content
and nostalgic, with
both
uncertainty and
hope, and with
love, unconditional;
You feel,
You see,
Even across the
dreary
miles:

She
smiles,
and loves,
and saves.

And you just know.

There are things
she
never
outgrows.

***

Happy Mother's Day to my mom and to all mothers out there. =)

I could hold you for a million years.

2011-04-10T22:02:00.001-07:00

Le Voyage des Ballons Multicolores by Nicki Varkevisser

I’ve felt enchanted ever since I began reading the teachings of the Dalai Lama.

I wasn't looking for it. It just came to me for some strange reason.

Maybe because there is truly that powerful force in the universe that lets you naturally gravitate to things that are important—things like love, compassion, kindness.

Not that the Dalai Lama is the sole authority for these kinds of teachings. At the core of every religion, I believe there is the concept of compassion. Yet there is something special about meditating and losing yourself in all these positive teachings that keeps me glued to its messages.

Like this message I came across today:

True compassion is not just an emotional response but a firm commitment founded on reason. Therefore, a truly compassionate attitude towards others does not change even if they behave negatively.

Love. It just washes over so many things. For an indefinite amount of time.

TO MAKE YOU FEEL MY LOVE
Lyrics by Bob Dylan

When the rain is blowing in your face
And the whole world is on your case
I could offer you a warm embrace
To make you feel my love

When the evening shadows and the stars appear
And there is no one there to dry your tears
I could hold you for a million years
To make you feel my love

I know you haven’t made your mind up yet
But I would never do you wrong
I’ve known it from the moment that we met
No doubt in my mind where you belong

I’d go hungry, I’d go black and blue
I’d go crawling down the avenue
There’s nothing that I wouldn’t do
To make you feel my love

The storms are raging on the rollin’ sea
And on the highway of regret
The winds of change are blowing wild and free
You ain’t seen nothing like me yet

I could make you happy, make your dreams come true
Nothing that I wouldn’t do
Go to the ends of the earth for you
To make you feel my love

***

I hope compassion becomes a way of life of everyone, no matter who or what one believes in.

But of course it is also true that we all have an innate self-centeredness that inhibits our love for others. So, since we desire the true happiness that is brought about by only a calm mind, and since such peace of mind is brought about by only a compassionate attitude, how can we develop this? We need to make a concerted effort to develop it; we must use all the events of our daily life to transform our thoughts and behavior. – The Dalai Lama

If you’re feeling precious, write.

2011-03-30T00:29:00.001-07:00

Strawberry Ink Love by D. Sharon Pruitt

There’s this scene from the film ‘Precious’ that strangely crossed my mind just now.

It’s when Precious learned that she has AIDS and her teacher asked her to write. Precious couldn’t. She was feeling too dejected and destroyed to even lift her hand, clutch a pen, and, at the very least, write. But her teacher demanded her to. Precious had to write.

The words that we write have the ability to make us listen to ourselves and to see things and opportunities that we would otherwise miss or forget.

I say that writing is a form of meditation. Even now that I am writing these words down, I feel pulled towards a place, a fortress of my own thoughts, where I am bereft of outside noise and influences. It’s just me talking to me. And it feels like home.

No matter how or what we feel, we write. You’ll never know how your own words can change you and make you appreciate yourself better. You’ll never know how your own words can even change others.

Precious’ teacher wanted her to write and write and write in her journal no matter how bad her life gets. Apart from improving Precious’ literacy, I believe it’s because writing teaches Precious to listen to herself and emerge braver than ever after every story.

So if you’re feeling bad, write.

If you’re feeling alone, write.

If you feel like a mess, write.

If you feel hopeless, write.

Because you can never write about all the beauty and loveliness and wonder of life if you can’t celebrate the less beautiful and less gratifying moments.

Discovering You.

2011-03-28T03:19:00.001-07:00

Starburst and Beach Grass by D. Sharon Pruitt

Sometimes the best way to figure out who you are is to get to that place where you don't have to be anything else. – Anonymous

We wake up every morning to a mass of overly commercialized products, material ambitions, and highly selfish wisdom. Often, we look for the trend--that ‘it’ thing people are craving, that ‘coolness’ that would make you, well, fit in.

We all want to fit in. To feel like we belong.

But do we ever stop to think that we already belong? That maybe, we shouldn’t try so hard to fit in. Because, somewhere, there are people who feel the same way waiting for us to take the stool next to them. Waiting for us to tell our unique and fascinating stories. Waiting for us to connect with them, too.

It may take us ages to find them. We may never even get the chance. But they are there.

And you are here.

All we need is to bravely embrace our soul—explore it and appreciate it--rather than throw it onto molds that only provide a false sense of belongingness in the present.

You see, we are never alone. Right now, someone is singing the same songs we are singing and dancing the same music we are dancing.

Encounter yourself and you will encounter a true, priceless company along the way. Even drawing love. For yourself. And for the world.

DIY Love.

2011-03-22T23:23:00.001-07:00

Daisy Flower by Man & His Cam

Everyday there’s always something new I want to learn.

People oftentimes frown upon that attitude—restlessness.

I don’t. I embrace it with an open heart. I wallow in it and swim and lose myself in it.

What I do notice is that everything I want to learn and do has something to do with creating something by hand.

Food. Dresses. Stories. Poems. Music. Crafts. Images.

Today I had an epiphany and asked myself, ‘Is this what I love doing?” I felt every nerve and muscle in my body jump in unison to cry ‘YES!’

Then my mind drifted back to that time in childhood when I would literally pick up scraps of almost anything I find at home, refusing to throw anything my siblings or my mum would call trash simply because I knew I could create something out of it.

To that time when I would use all these reclaimed stuff to create family gifts--a picture frame out of shells, or a portrait of my sister out of broken porcelain pieces retrieved from our backyard.

To that time when I painted Grimm’s fairytale characters on folder pieces, and later drew my dream wedding dress and house.

To that time when I created DIY boxes and folders to keep my things organized, and experimented with beads to make simple jewelries.

To that time when I first sat in front of the piano and learned to play The First Time I Loved Forever, and spent the summer days learning the guitar out in our terrace. Plus those summer days I spent glued on the couch with the Lifestyle Network on.

To that time when I composed a song on the piano and sang it to myself, but never got around to write the lyrics, nor the chords, down.

To that time when I asked my parents for an oven so I could bake cookies and a cake; and, recently, a sewing machine, so I could create dresses, and other crafts.

To that time when I started creating my poetry collection, and wrote stories.

To that time when I created this blog to share my thoughts with the world.

To those times when I refuse to pay for something I know I could do/make by hand. Like a greeting card or a scrapbook.

To every time when I would see something out of nothing. And create something out from scratch.

I’m a maker of things and I’m proud to see this passion so clearly now. And with whatever I do, I always aim to inspire and touch people. To connect with them and let them experience love as well.

My hats are off to all creative, wonderful people I’ve come across in my years. To the refreshing community of Kind Over Matter and Etsy, whose passion for anything personal yet universally inspiring I truly admire. I will forever be grateful for your stories and inspiration.

Today and always, my days will be filled with art and handmade, pay-it-forward love. ♥

See you later, Hachi.

2011-03-08T18:04:00.001-08:00

I can’t say that I’m devastated that Hachi’s gone but it sure makes me cry. I still was able to carry on with my normal everyday routine. I got up this morning, had breakfast, took a bath, and headed out to face the perpetually perplexing Manila traffic.

My sister said it must be Lepto. My boyfriend said it could be some liver complication. It could also be heartworm. I have a dozen or so theories in my head.

Last night, the vet was supposed to see him but his body gave up just before the car could take him to the clinic. And I wasn’t even there to see him.

I was on my way home with Earl trying to contact veterinarians, calling the house every now and then, asking how he’s doing.

This is the second time this has happened to us. Chase died more than a year ago from what seemed like a heartworm. He was barely three or six months. Can’t exactly recall.

Hachi, too, had only stayed three months with us before he left.

We are beginning to think that Phoebe, knowing how she hates being around ‘other’ dogs, might have some evil tricks up her sleeve all along. Either that or she might be cursed.

Kidding aside, we love Phoebe. And Hachi. And Chase. And all the dogs who had ever shared our home.

The family is sad that Hachi’s gone. It might take a while before we get another dog.

It’s always heartbreaking when a part of your family leaves for heaven.

But it’s reassuring to know that up there, at least he’s happily running around and that he’s having all the food he wants, and that his pain is over.

I love you, tomorrow.

2011-02-14T01:58:00.001-08:00

I thought life was moving too slowly when I was thirteen and while counting the days till I turn 18.

The clock seemed too lazy to work, the hours seemed to strike less faster than it should, leaving a heavy invisible weight and a stifled sigh upon a child eager to grow up.

Then I turned 18, and began counting the days until I turn 20..then 21, then 22.

There’s always a place in the future I want to be, I want to stand. There’s always that time I want to seize and experience. But this place and time always remain there, if not replaced by another place and time.

It took me a while to understand that what I have right now is a treasure that I should not neglect . I cannot just spend my time thinking about when the bus is coming to pick me up by the road, and getting distressed over how I don’t seem to be getting what I want when I want them. I can only live in, and breathe the moment, and just be thankful I have time.

I guess it always works that way. We never fully grasp our future nor our desires, or happiness even, because there is actually no end to dreaming and living.

There are only infinite tomorrows.

Thank you for the food on the table and family and sunrises, and for more birthdays to come.

The lunar new year, dog fights, and a change of heart.

2011-02-03T01:00:00.000-08:00

I am no Chinese and definitely cannot speak Mandarin but I guess my chinky eyes, plus the ubiquitous Chinese culture, grant me (and the world!) approval to join in, if not celebrate the Chinese New Year.

So even though the greeting’s becoming staler by the hour, I’m saying it anyway:

KUNG HEI FAT CHOI! =)

If dogs could talk, Phoebe would be sending her greetings too. Just because she’s a Shih Tzu and of Chinese descent (labo!).

Speaking of her, she’s been extra vigilant around the house since the arrival of Hachi. I’m not surprised anymore as she’s always had this self-important demeanor and a particular revulsion against other dogs.

I noticed an interesting similarity between dogs and humans upon observing how irritated and mad and aggressive Phoebe gets every time Hachi comes near her. How she, without any hint of doubt about how porky and heavy she is and how ridiculously impossible for her to jump to my bed, let alone lift herself, fights with every muscle (and fat) in her body to get herself to a higher, ‘safer’ ground—where no Hachi can reach her. It’s so cute. I actually enjoy watching her struggle. It’s like watching The Biggest Loser. Everything was there—the hopeful contender, the motivation, and the drive to get somewhere—weight loss just becomes a bonus. I just wish she’d lose the indifference towards Hachi (and other dogs in the planet), too.

Arrogance and pride and superior attitudes aside, Phoebe’s abhorrence against Hachi and her behavior around him translate to only one thing: FEAR. Humans are not unfamiliar with these encounters. Sometimes, the only way to downplay our feelings of being threatened is to project the opposite---more frequently, in a harsh, reactive way.

We’ve all been a bully in as much as we’ve been bullied. Sometimes, we just don’t realize it. Of course, we’re okay not to admit it at all.

Truth is, we, too, find it difficult to face our own bullies--the scared, insecure, little child in all of us.

Ho-well, being a MEANIE can be healthy to one’s ego, but people can actually live with less coldness, and more COMPASSION .

Now, how do I articulate that to a crabby, not to mention, inattentive, dog?

I think I’ll be sitting this one out. After all, Phoebe’s 70th place in Working/Obedience Intelligence ranking is forever uninspiring.

Gratitude.

2011-01-20T21:41:00.001-08:00

Aren’t mornings grand?

I’m looking forward to tomorrow morning, and the morning after tomorrow, and the morning after that, and the morning after that, and..well, this looking forward habit has gone perpetual.

So even if there’s no sun in the sky and maybe even zero pancakes on the table, I will have the morning to keep me enthused. :))

Lazy day.

2011-01-19T20:45:00.001-08:00

The sweetness of doing nothing.

I dote on Italy and Venice and the mysterious, unspoken stories inside catacombs, and pasta, and il dolce far niente! Thank you, Elizabeth Gilbert for the simple language lesson. I love lazy days and it’s even lovelier to have THE perfect excuse to bum around—a beautiful, self-assuring Italian expression that understands (and validates, mind you, :p) the exquisite experience of not having to do anything. AT ALL. Il dolce far niente!

Taking this to heart, I resolved to un-busy me self last weekend.

For Phoebe, il dolce far niente has become a way of life.

I can think of lazier days ahead and bask in the sense of liberation that comes with them.

SWEET.

Once in a while, the world needs a break from the endless fretting. Hence, I will idle away more and embrace some la dolce vita ~ the absolute sweet joy of everyday life. :)

Right. Now I’m in the mood for some lazy singing.

The best things in life are.

2011-01-13T04:37:00.000-08:00

I drove my brother to the airport last Saturday. He was heading back to Singapore.

My feet felt different as they kissed the clutch and the gas pedals. I haven’t been using the car to work of late, and I think it’s going to miss me for more days. At first, it was merely a personal protest against the parking fee hike implemented at the parking area. But I’m gradually falling in love with the public commute and might be doing this for a longer time. Being out there with the people, walking with them, working out their stories, is, indeed, a precious experience.

When I got home last Saturday, I was still thinking about Singapore and my trip there last year. It was a restless Saturday of DIY projects. That night, I decided to finally finish what I’ve been putting off for the past months.

So I took one of my diaries from my closet, picked up a few art materials from the box under the bed, and reminisced about past travels and happy walks.

I can’t believe how incredibly easy and fun the project was. I wanted to take out more things to laminate. I even thought about laminating my ATM card!---buuut then I figured I could save the pouches for future, more interesting, and less insane projects.

I looked at my work with an ear-to-ear smile afterwards. I placed them carefully in my drawer as if I’m just sending my little babies to bed and tucking them in. They were just so perfect, and reminded me of the equally picture-perfect sights of Sentosa.

They were more than souvenirs. I guess no other dress from Vivo City or a Merlion figurine could be as personal and as thoughtful.

Done with the day, to my good night’s sleep I went, making count of more unworldly pleasures that make me smile---like the magic of free parking.

Carpe diem.

2011-01-10T01:50:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, the sun was still asleep when I woke up.

As I headed out to jog with Earl, the sights and sounds of the morning made me feel alive. It was my 'strongest' run to date--strongest because I never stopped to catch my breath or to take a looooong break or to complain about my legs hurting already--which I used to do in our past runs. I figured my legs are getting the hang of it, finally. Practice and meaningful work do make a difference.

It's amazing the profound conversations that are created in little moments like running along a clear path, with the breeze brushing up your face, the light clouds watching over you. There were the noise of car engines and people chattering around, but they seemed distant and silent than they actually were. We were talking while our feet made its way to wherever, and it felt like the world around us disappeared. That morning, there was only us. It was a shared meditation in itself.

He shared with me a lovely thought as we were absorbed in that peaceful little moment. He said that what motivates him to run and never stop is thinking that the end destination is never near. It's always 'there' but it's always far. The end always remains a place to go to, to reach.

So even if we're nearing a bend or a supposed 'stop', he never thinks that it is the end. He never even thinks about it. He's just focused on what he's doing at the moment--running. The philosophy he shared was simply doing something out of passion, instead of accomplishing something for the mere sake of getting it over with.

It made me say to myself, 'Wow, I never looked at it that way before.' I felt a gush of excitement inside my head, like I always do when encountering thought-provoking situations. Yes, it made me smile. And it reminded me of the profound and sensible man I was with, I am with.

Moreover, it reminded me of how sometimes, I forget to look at things from a different and more meaningful perspective. It was a note on remembering to wallow in things beautiful and arresting and resplendent at the present.

Years from now, my legs will be all weak and rickety for a run. But it doesn't matter TODAY.

Thoughts.

2011-01-08T01:24:00.000-08:00

I have so many thoughts in my head, it's a shame I don't get to write everything down when they're actually IN my head---before they slip away.

This year, I pledge to blog more religiously, and share life and love and simple pleasures with the world. There will be more stories to tell, new hobbies and habits to share, and loads of 'life insights' to inspire. And oh, there'll be more photos too. :)

I've kept a journal since I was a little girl. And because I'm restless, I have so many notebooks filled with my thoughts. I don't think I've ever had one that reached the final page. Sometimes, I'd just write on a used sheet of paper and keep that paper along with other scratch papers-turned diary. In a way, this blog has also become one of those journals. There have been so many times when I wanted to delete it...but I'm glad now I never did. I guess

you can't stop a storyteller from, well, telling stories. :)

And a dreamer, from gushing over life.

revisited an old journal of mine

more pages to fill

I'll always be glad I have these thoughts to keep me company in my lifetime.

Forward, always forward.

2010-12-26T08:08:00.000-08:00

When I was young, I told myself that I wouldn't lose my optimism and dreams and imagination. I couldn't even understand how people could 'lose' that. I was as starry-eyed as a little girl could be. I didn't believe that children would soon find a hat instead of elephants inside boa constrictors; but books and TV and adults warned me otherwise.

Lately, I've been pondering about how the holidays have felt differently each year from when I was a little girl. It felt like there were more Christmas lights along the streets when I was younger; the Christmas carols were more resounding; and the days leading up to Christmas morning, more...alive.

Sometimes I'd dream about those times when I'd write letters to Santa Claus and slip them inside my stocking and argue over my defensive Grandma who I suspected had been filling up my stockings with candies, leaving no room for Santa to put my bicycle.

Sometimes, I'd look at our Christmas tree and think about the times when I had to pull up a chair beside it just so I could place a star or an angel on top of it.

Sometimes I'd just listen to a Christmas song and remember myself in my dainty little dress with my pretty little shoulder bag on Christmas day.

Sometimes I just want to be a kid once again.

Then I ask myself: Since when did I stop being a kid? Was it the day that I found out that Santa and his reindeers and elves were not real? Was it the day when I found out that there is a life beyond my dollhouse? Was it the day when I had my first heartbreak? Was it the day when I got tired of dreaming?

All I could say to myself is that life happens. As we grow up, we tend to find new goals and aspirations, and forget about the simple joys of life that used to matter. We forget about so many things that we neglect the kid in all of us.

I would never want to lose my faith in the simple. That's why I keep coming back to it. I write and I dream. I remember and I cherish. Then I realize that I've never stopped being a kid after all. I just feel like I do because the world can be so mean and disheartening that I begin to question whether my dreams and imagination still have a place in it.

They DO have a place in it. And this is a thought that I wish everyone would remember. Even though I don't get excited anymore about the contents of my stockings on Christmas day, I do celebrate the holidays and all the memories and the hope for better days that come with it.

I guess it's the passion for life and love that keeps a person dreaming and wondering and looking forward to everyday like a child. If this is true, then I am lucky to be a kid--still.

Before the year closes, I look back at all the previous years and examine myself today. It's still me. I'm still the starry-eyed little girl I once was. I'm still hungry for new things. Still wanting to learn something. Always wanting to go somewhere. Still holding on to my dreams, with my feet on the ground.

I've always been that girl.

(I was watching TV a while ago and tuned in to this. It was Lea Salonga's "Your Songs" concert last year. Her final song was 'Journey'. I thought that it would be a nice soundtrack to this year-end entry. Actually, it fits perfectly. =))

Sweet dreams, willow.

2010-11-05T09:04:00.000-07:00

Last night, i had one of those dreams that occasionally make me wonder whether or not I cross the minds of people I've never gotten in touch with for some time.

It felt real. It was like meeting a long lost friend once again. It was the past in repeat. It could've been wonderful if all the past were colored in sensible conversations and laughter and music and stolen moments. But it isn't. It was the past with all its unspoken frustrations once again.

Aren't we glad that dreams are just dreams? Because however happy them seem to be, all they can offer are false hopes and illusions. If there's one thing that we should be grateful about them, it's that they define reality and make the waking up part much more meaningful, much more inspiring.

It's unfair how dreams can somehow make you feel 'unreal' emotions. I guess there's a reason they only happen when we sleep.

Live through this and you won't look back.

Off to sleep now--a real sleep this time.

What do you pursue?

2010-10-16T00:00:00.000-07:00

It's amazing how your life could be changed in a moment. A moment that you least expect. A moment that would make all the future moments in your life mean more than those moments that you had in the past.

Last week, I was reading this article on the New Yorker. It's a thoughtful study on procrastination by James Surowiecki. He said that humans tend to 'put things off' especially if the results of what they do today are not immediate. Hence, short-term goals are weighed more importantly than long-term ones. Besides, long-term goals are mostly non-specific, abstract, and difficult to visualize--making them less compelling to accomplish than short-term goals.

The sad thing about this is some people who are used to procrastinating might use this simple theory to rationalize their own behaviors, even tolerate them. However, those more open-minded might truly learn from it and put their procrastination propensities at the right places, and context.

I am not a fan of procrastination. Putting off things I should be doing now actually leaves me uneasy and guilty and ashamed. It's a heavy feeling. It's like Monster Conscience following you wherever you go. So I try my hardest to do things I can do today. Or you could say I'm just really workaholic.

Anyway, I remembered that article as I was watching The Age of Stupid. While the documentary approach was interesting and fresh, the content was a bit of a downer. Bottomline of the film, bellowing from the television screen at such an alarming intensity as I was watching is this: YOU ARE STUPID.

You ARE stupid. Don't you know that people in Nigeria are dying from water-borne diseases because they have no clean water to drink? When they are supposed to be one of the well-off countries in the world because of the rich amount of oil in their land? They are almost drinking their death everyday as they scoop up black, God-knows-what's-in-there water from their lakes and seas, just to survive a day. How ironic and deplorable is that?

And you have these oil giants exploiting their resources, while the people who are supposed to benefit from them are continually neglected. Sigh. Capitalism sucks.

And you have people who oppose wind farms, which could save the world a great deal of global warming, simply because these wind turbines 'spoil the view'. H-U-H-?

The film IS right. We are a bunch of stupid people making stupid choices and stupid excuses for years on end. Worse, we might not even realize our sad state until we find ourselves in the middle of a useless patch of land--which we used to call Earth, by the way--devoid of water and food and all the comforts of life we were once more than acquainted with.

Everyday, I become more and more aware of pressing global issues and every discovery changes my life. It's always a humbling experience. Poverty, environmental degradation, political corruption, animal abuse, child and women trafficking, etc.--the depressing situation of the world makes me question my own pursuit of happiness, and makes me want to make a difference--corny cliche, but true.

I am a consumer myself. I use the same resources that were probably developed at the expense of the less privileged population in the planet. And that does not make me proud at all. Like everybody else, I know I've been stupid. But it doesnt mean I have to remain that way for the rest of my life.

Life is good and it's only going to get better if we share it with others.

It's really time that we un-stupid ourselves and care. No more procrastinating.

Save the dolphins.

2010-10-02T09:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Taiji, please stop killing the dolphins.

God. I wish I could curse you, or slap you, or kick you in the groin, or whatever, if only I could avenge the cruelty you've caused these innocent creatures. But that would not be enough.

Plus cruelty wouldn't solve another cruelty.

That's why we ask you, please stop the dolphin slaughter.

Last week, I wouldn't even give a damn about this issue because I didn't know. I was one of those ignorant people who would say 'Oh. They kill dolphins in Japan?', and would go on with their usual activities. So what?

But now that I do understand the horrible extent of this issue, I'm suddenly overwhelmed by this human indignation to reach out and participate and do something about it.

Now, more than ever, I understand that this killing of dolphins would not stop unless people come face-to-face with this issue. Unless they come to understand that this IS happening. That this is a terrible reality. Only when people truly understand, and not just know (because knowing only implies reaching the cognitive level without effecting a change in perspective and behavior), can this abhorrent act be stopped.

Watching The Cove has been an emotional, upsetting experience. Life-changing? Yes. Because for one, I'd probably not look at SeaWorld the same way again.

I applaud everyone who has ever risked his/her life to make a positive change in the world.

I have to see this end in my lifetime. Right now I'm focusing on that one little body of water where that slaughter takes
place. If we can't stop that, if we can't fix that, forget about the bigger issues. There's no hope. - Ric O'Barry

We have to see this end in OUR lifetime. Spread the word and take part.

Goddess, nonetheless.

2010-09-25T22:17:00.000-07:00

My mum literally had to clap her hands when she found out that I ironed my clothes in the morning one day.

I am not proud that Samantha Sweeting breathes and lives out of the pages of the book through me. But I'm not going to force myself to be a Cinderella either.

I think I'm old enough to know how to iron, at the very least wash, my own clothes, prepare my own food, do home stuff, etc. Some things I know but I just hate doing.

I do like cleaning though because I can't work and think and move a single muscle with all the visual clutter. In fact, I believe that years from now, once my dream house is built, it's going to be the daintiest in the neighborhood. People would be ashamed to lay a toe on its shiny floors. And then I'll have people to do my laundry and dishes and all those Stepford wife stuff.

Some might call it arrogance. People would say to a woman that she has to know how to cook or do the laundry because she IS a woman--because she is going to be somebody's missus someday.

What the, huh?

If I'm going to learn how to cook that Chopseuy, I am going to do it for myself and not because society or my husband dictates it.

Life is too short to just force yourself into candy molds that would only satisfy somebody else's sweet tooth. Besides, everyone's free and undomestic in their own way.

Tsk. I should really stop watching House.

Pre-swimming jitters.

2010-08-24T07:45:00.000-07:00

If I gain X pounds this month, I've got nutella to blame.

Right. Let's rephrase that.

If I gain X pounds this month, I've got nutella to thank.

Gratitude is healthy, they say. So thank you food for giving us nutrition and fats and making it difficult for us to fit in our bikinis just when we needed to. And yes, if it was not for the mere concept of you, there wouldn't be any Mrs. Fields cookies or Pop Tarts to enjoy. And oh, Nutella, too.

On my way home from work today, I had the urge to buy snack before heading to the parking lot. I wanted and then I didn't want to and then I wanted and then I didn't want to. Such a fickle-minded girl. How can buying food trouble one's mind and make one question his/her judgment (on hunger)? I don't know. Sometimes I know I'm hungry, sometimes I don't. Sometimes, I'm sure I'm hungry, sometimes I just convince myself that I'm sure (that I'm hungry).

So I didn't get anything from the store. I didn't fancy the extra leg work anyway.

In retrospect, I should've bought that Bread Pan. Then again, there's always tomorrow. And food, like love, always waits.

Geez, I just threw out onto cyberspace the corniest line tonight. Time to turn in and hide under the covers.

Dear music, I just wanna keep on (loving you).

2010-08-01T00:01:00.000-07:00

REO Speedwagon occupied about 75% of my mind yesterday. 15% went to my dental bills. 5% to McDo french fries. and another 5% to the sexily talented Hugh Laurie.

(This paragraph break translates to about twenty seconds of adding those percentages, and making sure they equal 100%. Yes, Math is a good bad personal time-waster.)

REO's music is just ageless and fits nicely in the Julia Roberts-loves-Richard Gere, The-Mirror-Has-Two-Faces, Aerosmith-Crazy emo playground of my brain. I found myself asking my sister why on earth people haven't written shit as good as theirs in years.

I am a big fan of music and I am pretty sure that people have become more creative in their song-writing stints. More melodies to play with. More things to write about. With love, still, as their muse.

But you know classic when you hear classic.

Nevertheless, music IS music. And this (restless) little girl will never get tired of listening to and discovering more of them.

P.S.: Catch Belle & Sebastian and their lovely poetry-melodies with me at this year's Mosaic Music Festival. :)

Inception, dreaming, and the waking up part.

2010-07-27T05:18:00.000-07:00

(*This entry contains spoilers.)

An idea is like a virus.

I'm not going to argue whether or not the movie ended in reality or in a dream. I, too, like everyone else I guess, was curious about that. But then, after much thought, I realized that having to understand the film's story or having to know the answers could be the very same idea planted in my head and everybody else's head since the beginning of the film.

Think about it.

Even before one watches the film, he/she has already been injected with the idea (maybe, even subconsciously) that this film is going to split his/her brains into two. That this film is brilliant. And that this film is going to have one grappling for answers (thanks to word-of-mouth and the film's marketing efforts and the director's superb filmmaking record, by the way).

Perhaps, that is exactly Mr. Nolan's brilliant plan.

The movie's other tagline says it all: The dream is real. He wanted to bring the dreaming experience to life---to the big screen. To do that, it's just convenient that people somehow be IN a deep state of sleep (figuratively speaking).

I think that he wanted the film to emulate a dream. Something that we wouldn't be able to understand/remember upon waking up (upon finishing the movie). Doesn't that always happen when we awake from a sleep? In trying to remember what we've dreamt about, we attempt to grasp vague details of the dream, and instead of remembering the dream from beginning to end, we end up seeing only patches of the story. We try to make sense of it all. To no avail.

That's exactly what happened to us after watching 'Inception'.

We were lost in the story. Bewildered. Struck. Left in awe. We asked: What happened? Not realizing that maybe, it isn't meant to be understood, after all. Or that we were simply looking at it at the wrong angles. After all, our mind has the power to betray us, deceive us. The film somehow encourages us to think, and leaves us an inexplicable feeling of guilt when we couldn't present answers. It's like a ridicule to the human mind--the scene of the crime.

In that regard, I believe that the movie is beyond the story itself. It is beyond answers. It is beyond that simple totem that has got everyone who watched it completely hooked to the film.

To me, the totem is THE idea. It was the only piece in the film that would 'convince' us to believe that this film presents a real story. That the characters are real. And that the storyline (plot) exists.

Then again, we have been warned---an idea is like a virus. And like the most resilient parasite, the spell cast by that simple, little totem quickly spread into our subconscious, and made us feel, if not think, that what we are watching, albeit the references to dreams in the movie, is a regular movie, which however mind-blowing, should be grounded in reality.

Except that it isn't. The whole movie experience is a dream in itself. Surreal. Incongruous. Irrational.

What's more impressive to me was how the film presented a story within a story,---a dream within a dream----in the same way that the characters in the film found themselves in dreams of varying levels.

---For I am convinced that Leo's character has just been dreaming throughout the film. And when he woke up on the plane by the end of the movie, that's him waking up from the dream. And like how dreams are believed to contain symbolic representations of our waking life, the whole plot of the film meant to give us glimpses of the protagonist's fears, struggles, thoughts, beliefs, life, which we, as viewers, would never completely come to understand simply because it isn't OUR dream. We were merely spectators looking on this character's dream. And dreams have always been personal.

That could also be the reason why we will never know whether these other characters in the movie truly played important roles in his waking life or are simply brief acquaintances, from which his dream/the plot took off.

One thing's for sure: the theme of his dream is COMING HOME. And home, he made it.

For us, coming home was waking up to reality as the closing credits rolled on.

Well, it's just me talking. All the same, Nolan is a genius. And the film still baffles me. Despite this blog. :p

Dreams feel real while we're in them. It's only when we wake up that we realize something was actually strange.

Ultra-brilliance.

2010-07-10T05:32:00.000-07:00

8.30 in the evening.

I'm alone in the room, my mind filled with thoughts of things, people, matters, duties, society, music, and poetry. Any minute now, these same thoughts would be replaced, or well, overshadowed by new, more dominant thoughts.

Like sand art.

There'd be newer images, newer perspectives, newer philosophies. Always.

It seems like the more time and effort we spend pondering about things, the more we somehow understand the world around us.

Don't we?

And I revel in the beautiful expanse of the human mind. How intricately it could weave ideas and make you go insane sometimes--just thinking. And how it could make the sheer clarity of things seem so liberating yet so frightful at the same time.

Oh well, the point of this blog is that A Clockwork Orange still blows my mind.

'Send out your ray of sunshine.'

2010-06-19T08:16:00.000-07:00

She was bendable light: she shone around every corner of my day.

Jerry Spinelli's 'Stargirl' is a simple story about things that matter, or, well, should matter. It brings to light ideas, people, even experiences that the modern, jaded world would've ignored by now (maybe, has ignored by now). It reminded me of my favorite book, The Alchemist. There were some elements of Coelho's work in it, but they are presented in a less personal way in Spinelli's book. In The Alchemist, you somehow feel Santiago's character speak to you directly--as if you are Santiago in pursuit of your personal legend. In 'Stargirl', you would feel Stargirl's character speak to you through another character, which is Leo. And you will find that she speaks with so much life and soul and heart.

It also reminded me of The Little Prince. The book is filled with wonder and innocence and elephants inside boa constrictor moments. But unlike 'The Alchemist' or 'The Little Prince', I'd like to think that 'Stargirl' narrates scenes and dialogues and characters that are more realistic, more believable, more relatable.

I found myself lying in bed that night when I finished the book, just thinking whether somewhere, among the millions of people in the planet, Stargirl does exist. Where is Stargirl?

I could go on dissecting the book--critiqueing every detail and character and writing style but I figured it was not meant to be subjected to any literary scrutiny. It presented just that--the simple joys of life, beautiful snapshots of life-dreams, company of a friend/loved one, stillness of the night, harmony with all life forms, kindness, compassion, happiness, forgiveness, love...

...and enchanted places.

Lying there thinking, an epiphany made me smile---Stargirl's among all of us. We just have to recognize the inherent beauty in everyone's heart. And sing. And dance. And love. Unconditionally.

Which reminds me of a Jason Mraz song that goes "If there's a light in everybody, send out your ray of sunshine."

How lovely it is to know that we could be anyone's sunshine.

3 impossible things.

2010-06-14T02:37:00.000-07:00

There are three things right now that I would like to change about myself:

1. Stop forgetting where I parked the car
2. Remember to pull the door when it says 'PULL' and push it when it says 'PUSH'
3. Patiently wait in long lines in the comfort rooms or cashier, instead of walking miles and miles to find another 'line-less' comfort room or cashier

Right.

Then again, these resolutions could wait. In the meantime, I would:

1. Keep on remembering the car parked next to me, instead of remembering WHERE i parked mine
2. Push the door when it says 'PULL' and pull it when it says 'PUSH', and receive the same can't-you-read? stares from the people around me
3. Retreat at the sight of a long line in the CR or a cashier from a distance--and yes, find another ('I don't care how far. I am NOT going to fall in THAT line.')

OH---old habits die hard.

Brighten my northern sky.

2010-03-15T04:58:00.000-07:00

"I see myself in Sara," I would often tell Earl whenever I come across the film 'Serendipity' or simply hear a song from the movie.

Not that Kate Beckinsale and I share the same pretty face and to-die-for bod, or that I would have pressed '23' too, as a random floor, in an elevator; but because I, too, am fascinated with destiny.

No, serendipity isn't my favorite word, yet for some ineffable reason, I fancy the idea of chance meetings, of omens, of inexplicable turns of events, which in the long and twisting run, makes perfect sense.

Overthinking is probably one of the skills I've mastered since I was young, which makes me totally compatible with Michael Scofield, by the way. I've learned to create meanings out of people and events. I've learned to evaluate and shape my next steps based on the 'signs' I observe at the present. The previous two to three sentences may seem unintelligible or total trash, but, no, they aren't.

See, I believe that things happen for a reason. And why they happen, often is a result of the choices we make. It always is connected with something we did in the past, a place we've visited, an acquaintance we shared a conversation with, a secret affair we had, a telephone number we scribbled on a book. :p

That we made a mistake and we say we did not mean it is an empty statement. Yes, it is lamentable, but the only way we could move forward is to accept that the turn of events was our own doing, and to ask forgiveness--no matter how terribly hard and heartbreaking and pride-shattering it would be.

I almost always rely on signs. I make a big deal out of things--some are acceptable, and some...well a little out of place. These misapplied contentions often involve, yes, my boyfriend. lol. What's a sassy girl got to do?

Anyway, reading signs though could be heart-wrenching too. When the turn of events becomes clear to you. When the past you believed in just seemed to be entirely built on lies. When the people you've trusted all your life become mere shadows in the distance you could no longer recognize. When believing ever since becomes a difficult feat to take. That's when you question whether things had to turn out the way they did. And that's when you conclude that life, truly, could be so cruel. And you try to hold on to whatever 'real' thing you could.

It's as if Paramore has been waiting for the opportune time for me to get the message: "Go get your shovel, and we'll dig a deep hole..to bury the castle." Fairies and rainbows and butterflies, while they are beautiful, are not always here to stay. And I'll be too much of a hypocrite to pretend that trauma was not done, or that things are okay, or that everything is going to be ever the same.

I still have faith in fate, but faith in what's already been broken, wrecked, crushed --I don't think it will ever be completely there.

I see myself in Sara. We both have faith in destiny. No matter how much time passes, or how bruised and weary our hearts become, we remain hopeful and welcome fortunate accidents to help us believe...again.

I did find the only exception. No wonder, I could so relate to this song.

I see myself in Sara. I often follow my heart and I believe in soulmates and I like funny people.

A very short, happy blog.

2010-02-19T05:18:00.000-08:00

The one most important thing I have done today is: follow justin bieber on twitter.

I am one less lonely girl. Yehess.

Things to do:
1 have him notice me
2 have him 'tweet' me or send me a message
3 have him invite me to his next music video
4 and, get myself a shrink.

When i was one and twenty, i had reasons to celebrate.

2010-02-08T06:06:00.000-08:00

Yesterday my twin sister and I celebrated our 21st birthday (I'm 21?!), and I thought people were going to forget about it or people were going to be 'too busy' to greet us. It was a good thing I kept my phone on silent mode because I received too many messages, they almost wore out my phone battery...Okay, i was just too lazy to charge my phone so even with a single battery bar, I went to sleep and assumed that I had some kind of 'superphone'--invincible, cannot be 'dead' come ruin or rupture.

It was my birthday after all. Nothing could/should to let me down.

The messages were all heartwarming. I even received greetings from those I hardly think about, and from those I'm not even close to. In Facebook, I just had to say 'thank you' to everyone--and I mean every ONE. I barely knew some of them but I had to give a credit for clicking on that birthday update and typing those words 'happy birthday', eh? Besides, gratitude is an age-old secret. :)

It made me ponder upon a probably 'getting old' idea but 'not so getting old/noticed' idea, after all. Are we able to truly establish 'real' relationships in social networking sites? Do we mean to greet someone a 'happy birthday'? or is it only because you happen to be logged on when you saw a birthday update? Would you even care to remember someone's birthday because you truly, without question and a username and a password, care about that person?

I have to admit I, too, greet people who a few years ago, I wouldnt usually greet. Yes, it could appear a tad hypocritical. But I guess we all have our individual intentions and I've always believed that a simple message of love, no matter how 'modernized' or 'contemporary' or 'digital' it has become at present, will always bring a smile to someone's face.

The modes of communication may have evolved over the years, but love, in the lyrics of Gavin Rossdale, remains the same.

Oh, I received a really cool gift from my twin sister. Guess it's her way of telling me to shut up and just let Alicia Keys do the singing. Thank you! Happy birthday to US!

Ah, twenty one years. Thank yoouuuu, God.

Gotta go! I still have a pocketful of dreams to share with the world. :) And even more people to thank along the way.

Because you're sweet, you give me lots of lovin', and you eat meat.

2010-01-28T04:48:00.000-08:00

After a day of finishing paperwork and meeting deadlines and surviving the city traffic, it's nice to come home to your little pooch, enthusiastically wagging its tail, mustering every muscular effort to run by your side, even though the body fat is just excessive and wobbling all over places.

That's Phoebe. Everytime I come home at night.

We'd race to the bedroom, I'd sit on the bed, lift her up to my lap, rub her belly, and yeah, talk to her.

She loves it.

But what she hates is whenever I pull out my camera phone and start taking pictures of us. It's like TMZ, she tries to avoid it. The more I do it, the more obnoxious it becomes. The more I want to get a good picture of her. And then she starts fidgeting and making those let-me-down-or-i'll-bite-you dog noises, which I altogether write off as an affectionate behavior more than a threat.

Attempt # 1

And two.

And three.

I do have a fairly good number of shots of her looking AT the camera, and even smiling at that. It's adorable.

Oh well, I may not have an album-full of smiling phoebe photos, but I'll definitely have days of behind-the-camera beams to last a lifetime. :)

Norah Jones' The Fall album has this dog-inspiring song that speaks truth (wittily) about you and your pet dog. It's the last track and my favorite.

Nice driving album to boot. :)

'That's the plan. rule the world. you and me. any day.'

2010-01-27T04:59:00.000-08:00

That Dr. Horrible song is playing in my head. It is, after all, the only song from the sing-along blog I ever listened to. An officemate introduced me to the lovely Niel Patrick Harris' sort-of-show-slash-blog, when we were driving up to meet a client one night. And boy, was the song 'Laundry Day' an instant hit in my musically inclined brain hemisphere.

'With my freeze ray, i would stop the world...'-- Genius.

I love how people could write very amusing, surprisingly emotional stuff when they're inspired. It's almost pouring out one's soul. William Wordsworth said (and i learned this in 3rd yr. highschool) that poetry is a 'spontaneous overflow of powerful emotions recollected in tranquility'. I remember our english teacher asking us to explain what it means. I can't remember whether I raised my hand to answer or I was called to answer, but I'm pretty sure I knew how to explain it. I should, right? Otherwise, I would've remembered an awkward or embarrassing class recitation moment, or our class being sent to the library to 'research', for example (our teacher would do that when nobody can't answer his question--Good times. I loved the library. ;p). Anyway, I remember we dissected the parts of that Wordsworth sentence--defined every word to better understand its entirety. Oh well, linguistics class would come years later in college, but we already had a bit of the syntax and semantics lecture in highschool i guess.

Once or twice, I was able to write sonnets (in iambic pentameter mind you hehe) bec I was so inspired, and I was so in love with the Bard. I still have them--those sonnets--and I read them every now and then to remember a feeling kept somewhere in time.

I'm such a cheeseball. That 'Chicken soup for the romantic soul' book in my shelf is silently mocking me right now. I think I'll never get tired of the Cinderella scenes. And Neruda . And Shakespeare .

And the spoken passion. :)

Words--beautiful words--are undeniably the fastest way to my heart. Apart from that KFC chicken meal (of course), and a sunrise watch on the park bench with a hot
choco in hand and your arm over my shoulder.

I could smell sweet February. And l-o-v-e.

We keep waiting on the world.

2010-01-16T08:21:00.000-08:00

I wanted to sleep in the dentist chair. Only that I wouldn't be able to keep my mouth open. And the dentist would have a hard time. And I would just have to stay awake again. And welcome the unwelcoming thought of the dragging hours.

And all this ranting is utterly pointless.

Sitting for nearly two hours in a dentist chair seemed like the longest, most boring, please-take-me-away-from-here two hours of my life. I guess I'm growing up and old. When I was young, I used to question the rationale of the occasional trip to the dentist; but I was a lot more patient then. I would sit there and think about things to while away the long hours. I would play scenes in my head of stories from books I just read or films I just watched. I would replay a conversation with a friend in my head to keep my mind occupied with happier thoughts other than the dull atmosphere that just seems, deplorably, endemic to clinics.

Is a person's amount of patience inversely proportional to his/her age? Because I could recall several times when I was a kid when I would wait for hours on end without ending up with a heavy, unpleasant feeling in my chest. Now, I would often find myself just wishing to vanish and teleport to some place else when I'm 'stuck' waiting, especially for someone or something that I know I could still manage living without; that is, if I were to play by my own rules.

Waiting is just like any other skill. It needs practice (yes, you need to practice how to stop yourself from killing that person who made you wait--especially when it's 'in vain', and practice how to flash that smile even after such an incident). It also needs inspiration. The end should be worth all the agony and pains and aches and sacrifices of waiting.

Well, dental check-ups are a must, I knooowwww. But I'm still going to rant about it and the need to start creating more ergonomic chairs and tooth fairy-inspiring facilities in the clinics.

Then again, I--we--should practice more patience, no matter how hard it might be given our deterioated attention span.

After all, life is all about waiting. You'll never get to see anything unless you stick around long enough (to see it).

Right. I'm just being an oddly insightful drama queen at 1 a.m. Off to bed now.

The perfectly polished.

2009-11-26T06:01:00.000-08:00

"What the heck is a nail strengthener?," Lu said under her breath one Sunday night.

To her, nail painting is a tedious, pointless task. She has only engaged herself in this vanity shenanigan (that's what she calls it--including make-up and daily beauty regimens and age-defying blah blahs) for only a few times--she could count them in her two hands. She hated it because she couldn't get the painting quite right, which is truly frustrating for a perfectionist like her.

That Sunday night was a different and strange day for her. It was a boring night. Lu entered the bedroom, sat on the edge of the bed and gazed around the dimly lighted room, as if waiting for something to happen. Something to take her out of boredom. Something to stop her from wasting her time. She could've gone to bed but she wasn't sleepy yet. And she knew something else--more interesting, more challenging--should happen.

There was a curious little box which, like her, seemed bored to death on the bottom of the book shelf right beside the bed. She stared at it for almost a minute while occasionally tilting her head from side to side, trying to think whether what she was thinking was really what she was thinking.

Turned out, what she was thinking was really what she was thinking. Even she was dumbfounded.

She reached for it--the nailpainting 'toolbox'. It belongs to her sister who was also in the bedroom that night and was lying on the bed behind her and was imperturbably talking on the phone with her boyfriend. She placed the box on her lap and looked at it as if she was looking at some absurd human invention which she still couldn't quite decipher the purpose of existence.

"Could you paint my nails? I'll pay you," she said to her sister. Her sister returned an insulted look which, for a brief moment, ironically seemed like she was considering the offer in her mind. She went back to speaking on the phone while Lu tried to figure out whether she should just paint her nails herself or offer a higher job fee.

Her eyes gazed again around the room and the bag of the new designer shoes she recently bought caught her attention. She imagined how the new shoes would look better on her if she were to match the shoe color with a sexy nail paint.

Nail painting is a process--which she thought was just downright wicked. She would interrupt her sister every now and then for the 'next step', and all the what to do's and 'what's this' of the nail painting process. Strangely, her sister would respond readily like a big sister would when her little sister's in trouble.

Lu followed the process systematically even though she had a hard time trying to familiarize herself with the whole nail-painting gang. Her mind raced back to her kindergarten classroom , when she would enthusiastically show her coloring book to everyone, especially to the teacher--proud that she had colored the flower or the apple or the sun and the clouds perfectly. She wished nail-painting was as easy. Then again, she thought practice could make perfect.

She painted her nails gold. She loves that color on her. She secretly wants to change her all-time favorite color from blue to gold or any shade of brown or yellow, but curiously, it seemed to her like a crime so she just kept the idea to herself.

Looking at her newly-painted nails, Lu felt happy and contented. She felt like she has done something again. Perfectly.

Lu let the paint on her toenails dry for a few minutes before going to sleep, wondering what she would have felt had her nail painting attempt turned out to be a total fiasco. She cringed at the thought.

Earlier, she had showed her painted toenails to her sister who just looked at her and her wide grin in funny disbelief.

Strutting my stuff.

2009-10-29T23:05:00.000-07:00

Ode to my major: Organizational Communication

Organizational communication is like that good film
I saw just months ago,
among the many very good films which, sadly,
do not get full publicity.
It is like that indie band that plays
truly unprecedented music,
which I love by the way, but which
I do not hear on the radio every morning
when I go to work.
It is that terrifically rewarding book
I told my mum and my dad and my sister
to read—for which they told me,
“I see...”, with confused looks on their faces.

Bright and strong-willed as I am, I took
“Organizational Communication” with me
in a suitcase
everywhere I go.
showing it to everyone I meet, as if I
was doing something of utmost importance
to the human race.—which, I have to admit, I am, because,
otherwise,
brilliant ideas would be non-existent,
companies would be tumbling down
and giant businesses will only simmer
in the ashes
of their downfall.

Without “Organizational Communication”,
plans would be merely
pieces of paper
devoid of substance.
Reports and presentations only babble
devoid of results.

I could wait for the world to discover
that film,
that music,
or that book.
but “Organizational Communication”
ought to be SOUGHT AFTER.

We tell the world and we show them and
we strategically communicate,
until we earn that top-of-mind place
which OrCom graduates so
rightfully deserve.

Till then, I shall be carrying my suitcase
in my travels
humbly,
self-assuredly,
(and fabulously)
for all the world to see.

Happy 25 years OrCom, University of the Philippines Manila.

--nuff said--

Would you save her?

2009-09-06T08:34:00.000-07:00

I felt sorry for Sylvia. I felt sorry for humanity.

Browsing through multiple google pages on key words "criminal acts" late last night, I stumbled upon a film based on real life events during the 1960s. Writer and director Tony O'Haver put together court testimonies from the case of Sylvia Likens--the 16 year old girl who suffered cruel treatment and torture from....everyone.

I would not delve much into the details of what happened to Sylvia. There are these snippets of the film (nine-part) in YouTube, which one can conveniently watch. Roughly 90 minutes long, it is a poignant take on Sylvia's story. I googled everything I could find about this story and I was struck by the amount of torment that the poor girl had to suffer. Her torment which people around her had awfully connived at.

It made me furious. It made me cry. It made me sad. It made me want to reach out to her.

It made me question.

How can people just ignore pain? How can people just ignore their evil, wicked ways? How can people claim to take power upon another person's soul and mercilessly push it over?

Jenny, Sylvia's sister, didn't even say a word to authorities while her sister starved, suffered, and was made fun of, at the Baniszewski's basement . She, too, received beatings from the brutal Gertrude, but was spared more than a great deal of the debilitating treatments that her older sister had to endure. (Could Jenny have developed the Stockholm syndrome? Just a theory.)

I think Sylvia died not because of what people were doing, but because of what people were NOT doing. Until now, I ponder on the thought of her death. Could I save her had I been in the same household in 1965? WOULD I?

Go figure.

(You'd want to know more: http://www.trutv.com/library/crime/notorious_murders/young/likens/1.html)

"...at least people are now talking about things they used to ignore."- An American Crime, 2008

Keeping the faith.

2009-08-05T03:34:00.000-07:00

Not getting to eat chocolates isn't a very cool situation to find yourself in.

A couple of days ago I found myself at the emergency room of a hospital because apparently I was losing fluids in my body. I was dehydrated; thanks to my almost 18 hours of endlessly suffering from nausea and vomiting. What amazes me was the fact that I was able to endure that looong episode of getting out everything in my stomach. Just when I thought I could not puke anything anymore, here comes another "batch" of undigested thingies which I couldn't figure out (apologies for the graphic imagery by the way, if you DO find it graphic), from God knows where.

All throughout that time when my mom would clean every now and then my bowl, wash my face time and again, and tell me that it will be over soon....All throughout that time when my boyfriend would sit by my side, hold my hand, and comfort me when I finally broke down telling him that I can't take it anymore... All throughout that time when our dog Phoebe would jump at my bedside as If sensing that I was very ill...All through those times, I was praying quietly. Repeating over and over to God: "Please, just make it all go away."

And in my silent conversation with Him, I even joked around. You see, when Michael Jackson died, I felt really sad. Almost devastated because I felt guilty. I misunderstood him. Here was a man who I adored when I was young. Who I wanted to marry when I was young (haha); but with whom I've lost interest as I grew up, only because I listened to what people were telling about him. I was young and naive, and I judged him. And so, one night before going to sleep, I asked God to take care of him, and maybe grant me an opportunity to talk to him, even in my dreams.

So when I was in that difficult time, I remembered that prayer and I kiddingly told God that I wanted to talk to MJ, buuuut not in a sense that I would want to kick the bucket. That made me smile inside. And I think that made Him smile as well.

I knew He was there that morning of July 27, 2009 when I asked my mom to bring me to the hospital. I was previously reluctant to go when my mom asked me because I never liked staying in the hospital. No matter how hard I tried to think positively, my body was getting weaker. And weaker.

Getting myself to the hospital, despite the quiet repulsions I might have for it and despite the bills that my dad paid (which I wanted to pay since I'm working already--'whatever', haha), was the right decision. (Earl took this picture of me during my first day stay. I think i was watching 'Wowowee' :p)

I am well now although still under medication. I could very well say that I have a new-found sense of joy in my life. And I know that He is still taking care of me. :)

I remember saying once in one of my Public Address speeches in college this: "Faith can take you to places unimaginable." I am proud to have seen it at work in my life everyday.

---
A woman of unwavering faith, Ms. Corazon Aquino, will be missed much. I will always admire her. Thank you, President Cory.
---
And yes, I faithfully heed the doctor's orders not to eat chocolates or any food with caffeine in it, and submitted myself to total 'un-coolness'. Sigh.

Think blink.

2009-06-24T08:18:00.000-07:00

I was so hooked with 'Blink', I could not put it down; let alone keep my mouth shut talking about it after I've finished the book. Fascinating, fascinating, FAsciNating (note the stress on the first and third syllables :p) read! I could not commend it more.

Reminiscent of Mr. Gladwell's first book ("The Tipping Point"), "Blink"'s brilliance and the author's novel ways of presenting ideas and insights are simply riveting. The book will certainly make one think about how he/she thinks. There were even moments while I was reading the book when I would stop just to absorb the ideas, or to simply revel in the absolute beauty of Mr. Gladwell's mind. Such a beautiful mind, indeed. =)

So on my way to one of my job interviews (yay!) days ago, I could not help but share the book with Earl. As always, he was all ears. After a while, he told me that maybe it would be better if he were to read the book instead, and requested that I stop spoiling. :p.

But it was a wish that I just couldn't make my command. It was like asking me to turn the television off in the middle of a Boys over Flowers marathon. I just couldn't do it. No. Sorry.

I kept talking for minutes on end in the passenger seat, completely oblivious of the morning traffic along the roads of Makati. Earl, trying his hardest to balance his driving skill and listening skill (plus his ability of handling the pressure from crazy drivers on the road and from his crazy loquacious girlfriend), could have only wished for a (divine) intervention.

I finally stopped talking when I ran out of more stories to share, and when I simply realized that I'm saying the same things over and over...and over. I finally heard myself. And finally understood the condition I was in---I was in love.

With the book.

Funny how the "falling in love" thingy happens in the course of reading. Funny also how so many books (more than men) have swept me off my feet. (insert deadpan look here).

Maybe when you're passionate about something--be it writing or reading or poetry or photography or animals or gadgets or food or hot guys with names starting with Hugh and ending with Jackman--the part where you fall in love becomes obsolete because it's already a part of you. You're not even thinking about how you love it---*blink!*---YOU JUST DO. And one day, when something out of the ordinary from something that you've been in love with for years comes up---well, *pop* goes your heart. AGAIN.

That was what happened with "Blink" and with all other books that I have come to love. I might have perused a great many books but not all of them captured my heart. The ones that did became a special part of me. Why? The reasons need not be sought. They just ARE.

I do tend to overthink; but now I guess it will do me good to just think without thinking.

We have, as human beings, a storytelling problem. We're a bit too quick to come up with explanations for things we don't really have an explanation for.
- Malcom Gladwell -

Get busy living.

2009-06-17T23:31:00.000-07:00

When I was young, I was taught to finish everything on my plate. I dreaded my uncle who used to make sure that not a single grain of rice remains on my plate. I was (dare I say it? :p) forced to eat vegetables and to keep to myself my childish thoughts about them (i.e. "Is this food?!" and "Who eats these?!). I remember holding my breath when I ate the pieces of carrots I left on my plate, which I thought would go unnoticed. With the same confused state of mind as Little Prince, I mused about how strange grown-ups were, worrying about matters of little consequence as that of leftover carrots.

How often do mothers or nannies sneak nutritious stuff in the children's food? Say veggies or milk? Everyone probably has their own share of story about this. Once in a while, you would learn that the dish has veggies in it, or milk, or perhaps that it's purely organic. Oftentimes, you would find out about it when the deceptive dish is already sitting pretty in your stomach. Maybe you would be mad. Maybe you would say nothing in protest. But mostly, I guess, you'd be beguiled. Beguiled by the exquisite idea of how a matter of little consequence suddenly becomes so great to you. Not because your mother or nanny was smart; but because it just happened.

Three days ago, I saw Shawshank Redemption, and it was just mind-blowing. My dad has probably seen it for the umpteenth time. It's his favorite film of all time. I wonder how a film geek like me even almost missed that kind of movie--had not my dad encouraged me to see it. Very beautiful.

Last night, I watched the 200th episode of CSI Las Vegas in AXN. Laurence Fishburne joined the team already. For one moment, I thought that he could not deliver the role of a Forensics guy because to me he was a Matrix kind of guy (whatever that means haha). In other words, I had not imagined him starring in a Crime/Drama series like CSI; but hey...he was GOOD. Like Akeelah and the Bee GOOD (because in part, he was also a mentor). And that 200th episode was good also. It wasn't as exciting as other episodes I've seen but where the crime was coming from and just how the whole story connected with the new guy (Fishburne) and his expertise and his credibility and the whole point of CSI was just (hands down) superb. It was like....a well-written academic paper. haha. Even THAT analogy connects with the story. Go figure.

And then, I also watched the Discovery Channel. The show talked about Teletronics, Life on Mars, and Time-travel. So COOL. It was the most interesting thing I've seen on television to date. Oddly, I've never been so caught up in the tube since Paris Hilton guest starred in the David Letterman show. :p

Shawshank Redemption, that 200th episode of CSI, and the Discovery Channel show all beguiled me. Why? because they were like veggies and milk sneaked into my food. They offered something important that I only realized after I've consumed them----HOPE. Yes, it isn't concrete as nutritious stuff but it is as healthy. And yes, HOPE has always been a matter of great consequence.

In a way, people may be classified as grown-ups or children. Some may choose to think about them as binary opposites---very different in their ways of thinking and behaving. I believe that in this world, numbers are not exactly an accurate representation of anything as just how old or young a person is. I believe that in this world, nothing is truly a promise. Nothing is certain.

Nevertheless, we DREAM. Just wishing and hoping at times. No matter how young or old we think we are. No matter how the future ahead may look.

We are all dreamers. Sometimes, we just need the right push to make us realize that we ARE.

I don't know why.

2009-05-30T10:27:00.000-07:00

The old man is (definitely) snoring. It has been raining the whole day.

I remember watching the car's wipers move forcefully across the windshield. Like some coordinated dance move that requires only a left and right motion. I watched as the cars proceeding idly in front of me and the busy people walking along the streets blurred and cleared time and again in between the wipers' synchronized movement.

Driving is not fun when it's raining. Especially when it's raining hard.

Yet the comfort of being inside the car becomes no different from the comfort of being somewhere safe and sound during rainy days. It feels like home. For some reason, the car seat becomes your warm bed or sofa, the company of family or friends takes away the chagrin that rainy days usually induce.

And the car stereo becomes the chicken soup for your tired and looking-for-inspiration soul.

I sat there in the driver's seat. Staring blankly ahead. The windshield could have formed various images of nothings as raindrops rest on top of one another throughout its surface. The stereo was on....and I drifted my mind off the windshield pictures as soon as I heard a familiar song.

The reeds and brass were weaving. Norah Jones' Don't Know Why was playing. Norah has been a favorite of mine for a long time. The song is her debut song in her first album Come away with me. God, I love that album. And her next album. And the album after that. And all other albums that feature her. =)

I reached for the volume control but I stopped myself halfway. I began thinking about that human reflex. When we love a song on the radio, we immediately turn up the volume, with added remarks similar to the ff: "I love this song!" or "This is my song!" or "This is my favorite!". Reminiscent of that film White Chicks and Vanessa Carlton's A Thousand Miles. Never fails to make me laugh.

Why do we do that? Have you ever thought about that? This is an example of those daily actions that we often neglect simply because there seems to be an unofficial modicum of agreement that we should turn up the volume when we like the song being played. Is there?

Like Norah Jones singing in the background as I was pondering about this, we might say that we don't know why.

Methinks people are just plain interesting.

Breathing fresh air doesn't happen everyday.

2009-05-26T04:27:00.000-07:00

Today I saw what probably was the fifth Michael Douglas film I've seen in the last month. We have a number of suspense thriller DVDs and even books that spell any of the following: law, the american president, a plot to kill the president, a plan to save the president, secret service, prison, suspect, victim..well, you get the idea. My father's bringing home all these stuff and I figured that it's just legally acceptable for him to be interested in these because he works closely with law firm people. So just imagine my reaction when I opened up his suitcase as I was rummaging for his pasalubongs over a month ago: Again?

Not that Murder in the First or The Heat were bad films--they were very good films actually. Surprisingly good. Watching them was like an epiphany. It's recognizing those times when the suspension of judgment is perfectly okay. Maybe people, especially young people, would rather watch Twilight or chick flicks because there is hype about them. Hype. Because there is a massive promotion for these films. Because the story appeals to them. It's sad that there are a lot of very good, well-plotted films that do not receive much deserved attention from the public.

Rarely, you'll be amazed at how something which you haven't heard of can be so thrilling and exciting. It's like Mary finding the secret garden, and Alice discovering all the magic and tomfooleries in Wonderland.

THAT rarely happens. And the 'rarely' part in it is the amazing mystery of it all. Certainly, you'll always be surprised. You'll always be amused. And you'll always wonder when the next time you'll feel the same way again will happen. You'll definitely say 'wow'. Wow for yourself making an uplifting discovery. And Wow for the experience that does not cross your waking life everyday.

Hmm. A lot like love, don't you think?

a girl, interrupted (actually), Musings of.

2009-04-07T00:18:00.000-07:00

It's a sad thought that someday we shall all forget. Yes, there are things we want to forget. But there are also moments that we want to remember. And there are those times in our life that simply become unforgettable.

Like insistent vignettes of repressed life events

For the past weeks I've been in a rather disgreeable treatment. I had to take oral steroids because I developed these unknown (non-itchy) rashes that even the doctors could not identify. We went to three different doctors. Needless to say, I almost saw some silver lining when the steroids took effect (the rashes gradually faded away). But my slowly-taking-pace merry-making was short-lived. As soon as I was withdrawing from the meds, new rashes started appearing. And this time, they itched like hell.

So I yearned for Doctor House's medical team. Or even Dr. Cockroach's mad idea. I yearned for the slighest, brilliant, sensible opinion a Pathology student would make out of my conditon. I yearned for a clear diagnosis (and liberty from those medical shenanigans). And I desperately yearned for a treatment.

It was even an inopportune time as I was all stressful with graduation requirements in school and I hardly had time to sleep.

I went back to oral steroids (this time lighter dosage) and now, the rashes are almost gone. Apparently, I had an allergic reaction to some food while I was undergoing the first treatment. That was why during the next treatment, I was strictly (and unfairly! haha) told not to eat seafood, egg, and chicken. Ugh. Imagine how painful my life had been. I could only drool over Jollibee Chicken Joy. Nightmarish. Ugh.

After days of waking up very early in the morning, of following skin cream regimens, of taking two other expensive meds (one of which made me really drowsy during the day--the last thing I needed while finishing my thesis), of almost getting bridget jones-ized (the meds unbelievably increase your appetite), of relentlessly praying that it will all go away...After all those days of disruptions from my normal life...(drum roll) the unsightly rashes finally disappeared.

Confetti. Clap. Clap.

Now, I wish they stay away. For good.

--

We have phases in our life that we wish would be over. Perhaps sooner than we could hope for. Yet these same phases become part of our unforgettable memories. Like recurrent dreams that unusually haunt our waking life. We question them. We attempt to solve the lurking mysteries around them. At times, we push them back. Deep into the recesses of that part of our brain we've arbitrarily labelled "Past". The irony of it all is they will always be there.

Too blessed to be stressed.

2008-07-14T23:11:00.000-07:00

All people who are happy have God within them. - The Alchemist

One of my favorite church songs. It is HIM I turn to just to talk, to give thanks, to ask forgiveness, to ask patience, to ask understanding, to ask almost anything. And He listens ALLL the time. I just know. His love is so unconditional that even when we've been prodigal children, He faithfully awaits our return always.

Has he been knocking on your door? Let Him in.

LEAD ME LORD

Lead me Lord, lead me by the hand
And make me face the rising sun
Comfort me through all the pain
That life may bring
There's no other hope
That I can lean upon
Lead me Lord Lead me all my life
Walk by me, walk by me across
The lonely road that I may face
Take my arms and let your hand
Show me the way
Show the way to live inside your heart
All my days, all my life

Refrain: You are my light
You're the lamb upon my feet
All the time my Lord
I need You there
You are my light I (just) cannot live alone
Let me stay
By Your guiding love
All through my life
Lead me Lord

Lead me Lord Even though at times
I'd rather go alone my way
Help me take the right direction
Take Your road Lead me Lord
And never leave my side
All my days
All my life

You are my light
You're the lamb upon my feet
All the time my Lord
I need You there
You are my light I (just) cannot live alone
Let me stay By Your guiding love
All through my life
All through my days Lead me, O Lord Lead me Lord

He never leaves us. It does not mean that He's not there when you can't see Him. It does not mean that He does not listen when you can't hear Him speak. He's always there. :)

Just like that quote from the shirt-We're TOO BLESSED to be stressed.

A true false alarm.

2008-06-06T22:08:00.000-07:00

Amusing story. I got a cold during a freezingly hot summer afternoon. A C-O-L-D. And I didnt even see it coming. After days of feeling dehydrated, that rhinovirus thingy managed to (inevitably, and overpoweringly) invade my system.

More amusing story. I woke up really early yesterday.

The day before that more amusing story when I woke up really early, that was when the amusing story happened--I got the cold. It was also the day when Earl and I agreed that I would drop him off to school before 9 yesterday because I also had to be somewhere in Manila for a meeting by 10.30.

I woke up yesterday, looked at my phone under my pillow. It was 6.30. I knew I had to wake up soon to get ready and all. However, I was not feeling too well. I felt weak and I knew I couldnt get up soon. I had a cold. So I heavy-heartedly texted earl and told him that I couldnt get up early and that I couldnt drop him off because I was a bit under the weather. Before going back to sleep, I looked around the room and even out the windows with silent remorse. "It's dark.", I told myself. "Unusually dark."

I slid back to Morpheus' world and as usual, I forgot what I dreamt about upon waking up--at 8:20 am. With silent hope, I texted Earl. "Maybe he's just on his way. I could take a bath really quick and pick him up." I called their house and her mum said he just left. Heavy sigh.

I checked my phone. It was nearly nine. I had to hurry. I had to be on the road by 9:15. I ate my breakfast, brushed my teeth and was ready to enter the shower. I went back to our room to get my clothes and my towel. When I passed by our dining area, I caught a glimpse of our clock mounted high on the wall just above the door going to the kitchen. It read: 8:00. I felt a pang of funny disbelief.

I asked my mum, who was getting ready to go out for her daily taebo class. She confirmed the time. It was just 8.00 am. I hurried to my room, checked my phone and yes, it was an hour too early.

"Oh."

The day before that I remember re-setting the time and date in my phone because I had to remove the battery and the sim.

That meant that when I woke up at 6:30, it was only 5:30 am. That was why it was still dark.

When I woke up at 8:20, it was just 7:20 am. Later I found out that Earl headed to school earlier.

Sigh. I'd been cheated. I was supposed to still enjoy at least an hour more of sleeping and my ol goody phone buddy deprived me of it. Ha!

It was my NIDO commercial moment. Expose, explore, experience.

Even more amusing story. I didnt go back to sleep upon my discovery nor did I wallow in my self-inflicted sorrow. I took a bath. Dressed up. Prepared to leave. I did all of these without having to hurry. Without fear that I'd be late.

I was blithely singing The Cure's "It's Friday Im in Love", by the time I hit the road. "How perfect.", I thought.

Play BIG.

2008-05-26T08:38:00.000-07:00

It's a pretty tough job to get me out of bed these days. You'd probably give yourself a nice pat on the back if you ever succeeded in getting me out of bed at 8 or 9 am.

The slightest sign of annoyance (on my face and voice) could be sensed whenever I am awaken 'unjustly' in the morning or anytime before 12 pm for that matter. My boyfriend knows this because when he mistakenly calls me in the morning (when I am extremely asleep--Im talking stage 3 to 4 sleep), and my mother hands me the phone and Im half awake, he could hardly hear me. I could hear the nervous tone from the other end of the line asking "Still sleeping?" and he'd proceed with whatever he has to say and would bid goodbye. And I'll forget about it all and return to my recently interrupted sleep.

That's perfectly understandable. To me.

I saw "We are Marshall" in HBO yesterday. I wasn't able to finish it (heck i wasnt even able to start the film), but I learned a great many valuable lessons--one, that Matthew McConaughey and Matthew Fox still look hot in their coaching uniforms...yep. haha. Kid. That there's always a first time for everything. That there's always a way to get up from every hearbreaking fall. That we shouldn't let our own griefs, our own fears--our very own monsters to keep us from moving forward. From doing what we HAVE to do.

When you have time, you should see it. It's a film worth seeing. Inspiring.

So, maybe it's a bad job well done waking me up in the morning but it really is not as hard as it sounds. I'll get annoyed, yes, but who cares about that? If you have to say something really important to me at 5 am, then go tell me. Earl, he knows that I get annoyed in the morning but he still calls me up, all because he wants to tell me that he loves me before he leaves the house for his duty. Because he wants to hear my voice and to remind me to take good care of myself while he's away. He's doing it regardless of the fact that I don't want sleep interruptions. And I truly appreciate that (I'm just less annoyed). :p

It's all about changing the way you think and defying certain things if you really want to.

Think of the time when you had to confess to your one true love that you love him/her. Think of that time when you had to apologize and you did not even know where to start but you pulled everything off quite well. Think of that time when you had to tell your mother that you accidentally broke her favorite vase. Think of that time when you raised your hand in the class of the most insanely notorious professor you've ever encountered in college. Think of the time when you experienced your biggest disappointment and managed to let go of all sorrows and aches after a while...Think of those times.

It all takes courage. It's all YOU believing in yourself.

Marianne Williamson says it best:

Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.

Well, your playing small definitely will not serve the world. Start by doing something you've been scared shitless of, perhaps?

INSPIRE.

Are we on a diet?: Subtleties in losing weight

2008-05-03T08:45:00.000-07:00

Time flies fast and I hardly noticed that a month has already passed since my last blog--which violates my personal blogging terms and conditions. haha.

In my same impertinent yet logical stream of thoughts, I am going to talk about healthy living, reduced habits and man's on-going self-indulgence in (almost inevitable) choices that he/she BELIEVES are GOOD for him/her.

I remember my Natural Science V professor constantly talking about the weather inconsistencies these days. She blamed it to global warming (as we would also). I found her over-reacting then because I thought it was not so much of a big deal (hey! like it's the end of the world soon!). THAT attitude of mine was not far from many others' who live in what I would call environmental-slash-social apathy. Months later after I took that subject and after learning so much from reading and watching, I found myself writing about saving the Earth (see previous blog on this a year ago). When you flip the newspapers, you'll see countless news about tree planting in one place and another tree planting activity in another place and so on. Suddenly, it's not only Al Gore voicing out his concern about global warming. A number of companies are even tying up with environmental organizations to support environmental causes. Suddenly people are WANTING to save the Earth. I do not know if everyone is genuinely concerned. I do not know if some are just caught up in this emerging trend and just decided to passively participate until everyone else decides otherwise. This whole Let's Save the Earth thing has reached its so-called tipping point--as author Malcolm Gladwell calls it. It would be totally scholarly and COOL as well to study this surprising phenomenon. What factors could have contributed to the sudden popularity of global warming and its unwanted effects in our planet? How come it is only NOW that we pay particular attention to it? Why do we suddenly have an Earth day? or Pangea day?

It is a good thing by the way that more and more people are becoming aware of the need to care for our environment. Even better if we really take action. Plant a tree. Whenever practical, walk instead of using your car (although you'll have to convince me more on this esp this HOT summer. :p). Save water. Save energy. They don't really say reduce, reuse, recycle for nothing, right?

I was just also discussing awhile ago with earl and my twin (when earl and I got home) about how certain courses in schools are becoming obsolete with the introduction of new technologies that offer easier access to education. You see, there are new computer programs that one could self-study--you have Adobe, AutoCad, Photoshop, FinalCut, etc.---and in days or weeks, you can claim to know as much as students who take courses in Photography. Multimedia arts, Visual arts etc. Perhaps you might miss on the theoretical parts of the course, but you can surely master the application part. With a little help from a mentor or a book, you can learn a lot. I understand also that there are classes out of school being offered for some of these newer and more sophisticated computer programs. Walk along Pedro Gil and you can get yourself a copy of the newest computer softwares! haha. That's illegal of course...buut, would you pass up the chance to be as internationally competitive as those people who use the same softwares around the globe? Who are well-off enough to afford them? haha (I sound like your evil/clever conscience).

I would not be surprised if in the near future, everything that we WANT to learn or we NEED to learn will be spoon-fed to us. The internet alone at present offers unbelievable access to a variety of learning, which in a million years, we probably would not have imagined (except Isaac Asimov I guess..:p).

I can only imagine people getting fat--not because of McDonalds--but because we just stay in our own little corners at home for EVERYTHING--for learning, for shopping, for cleaning, for entertainment....and the list of everything that the internet or some other technologies can provide for us goes on.

Are we all just engaging in some self-fulfilling prophecy? That life will only get easier in the future? Perhaps, yes. Or maybe, man is just too curious. Still curious.

The powerful play goes on.

2008-03-25T19:55:00.000-07:00

I love cable. One morning. One very early morning. One very early morning after eating breakfast. One very early morning after eating breakfast, after taking a bath and after getting dressed. I turned on the television and watched National Geographic Channel. The show featured the cuttlefish. Those underwater creatures were just adorable.

The people were doing some kind of research with the cuttlefish. Trying to prove that the cuttlefish are intelligent. More intelligent than the octopus. I have to say I was impressed. Phoebe couldnt even play dead. She couldnt even do tricks other than fetch and stand up (and that's if and ONLY if you have food). The cuttlefish has amazing camouflage skills and very interesting mating behaviors too. There are emerging new studies on the intelligence of these creatures. Im trying to find a video copy of those experiments over the net but couldnt find one. The following link provides useful information and interactive sites about the behaviors of cuttlefish (plus other equally interesting animals) :

http://www.pbs.org/wgbh/nova/camo/

We could learn a lot from animals. In several years of watching National Geographic, I found certain similarities of certain animals with human beings. You see, even though we are the most intelligent creatures on Earth, there are far greater things that animals can do that we couldn't--that make us look somewhat stupid too. We wish to fly--we can't. We wish to breathe underwater--we can't. Animals, on the other hand, (excluding humans) cannot think as much as we can. Actually, they cannot THINK like us. They can't write nor read. They can't build skycrapers. They can't cook. They can't even flush the toilet! (with the exception of dogs and cats who were trained of course).;)

If there is one thing most common in all of us--we all have this instinct to survive. The same philosophy holds true: "The name of the game of life is survival of the fittest."

A few days ago, I started reading Yann Martel's Life of Pi. The author describes another interesting animal in the first few pages of the book--the three-toed sloth. Pi, the main character also has extensive knowledge about animals because he's a zookeeper's son. Anyway, I did some research about three-toed sloth. Just like the cuttlefish, one will find so much more interest in these animals than, i don't know, in just sleeping or in computer games. haha. (although i would contradict this contention of mine later). :p

Three-toed sloths are the world's slowest mammal--no mystery in there anymore i guess. The name says it. Now, isnt that glorifying? Spending your time just "hanging around"--literally? hehe. Read more:

http://animals.nationalgeographic.com/animals/mammals/three-toed-sloth.html

It is so fascinating to know that there is so much to learn around us. Unfortunately, oftentimes we neglect our opportunities to learn. It's amazing what you will find one morning when you wake up and just open a book and read..Or turn on the television and watch National Geographic or any other educational programs for that matter.

We are the only living creatures who CAN read. Who CAN learn. Who can watch a National Geographic episode. Who can subscribe to cable and watch National Geographic episodes.wehe

And who CAN share what they learn.

It's time we exercise our brains and make intelligent choices. A little dose of sappy programs and films (once in awhile) wouldnt hurt though. They still keep the human brain sane. ;p

"...That you are here - That life exists and identity. That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse." -Walt Whitman.

The saleslady story my idiosyncratic self said she'll tell in her blog.

2008-02-28T04:49:00.000-08:00

Why is it that sometimes you figure a story to be funny yet others don't figure it the same way? It's just so hilarious (you think) that you are fairly confident that if you tell it to other people, they'll cry laughing. But they don't.

Two nights ago, I was to meet my twin at Robinson's Manila. It was after class, a little after 6. My phone battery was dying and my last sms to her was that I'll meet her in Powerbooks, groundfloor.

When I reached the place, I realized that Powerbooks had already been relocated at the new Midtown wing of the same mall. In my head, I was thinking--"Oh my g--, where the dickens is the Powerbooks here?!". I thought that they kept the Powerbooks there. I was hoping for some fleeting glimpse of it. Nothing. All I could see was the huge "paperwall" placed across the area where the book store had been. I looked around for my sister and did not find her.

Impatient as I am, I waited a little then walked and walked away. I thought of going inside one of the stores beside the area. I entered Gift Gate. As I entered the place, there was this sales lady who greeted me with a smile. I smiled back and looked around--not to buy anything. Just plain 'looking around' stuff. I don't know but I have an unspoken (almost uncanny) pet peeve with salespeople. They are a major vexation to me--especially that saleslady in that unfortunate store encounter.

I didnt know If I looked like I had money to buy. Or looked like one of Hello Kitty's undying fans. Or looked like kind enough to spare money to buy one of those capitalist-sponsored items (I am stingy!). I didnt know. The saleslady was dogging me around (like some annoying guy who has a major crush on you would do and who's in for the dumpster). She was there looking over at my shoulder, telling me stuff about whatever item I was looking. She was there...doing her job--selling. And I wasn't liking it. Maybe because I wasnt in the mood in the first place. I wanted her to leave me alone. She was starting to be obnoxious. Really.

I didnt want to get mad at her. I didnt want to humiliate her by telling her to shut up (though in my mind, that would be totally effective.hehe). I instead thought of a way to drive her away without hurting her feelings. Hmmm. As I was looking around (still), I asked her if they have those hello kitty cookies (I remember those cookies my mum's friend brought from Hongkong). I was hoping she'd say no. She said yes. I felt a pang of "oh no!". Dead end I thought. Now how do I get out of this unexpected rubicon yet again? She showed me the cookies and I looked at them like i would when shopping for some MNG clothes--very intently and had the believable inkling of really purchasing. But surely I wasnt there to buy. So I told the saleslady that I was looking for the hello kitty cookies with the pink wrappers (which I know they dont have--ha!). She said the store doesnt sell those (I know!). Whew! Then, she left me alone. I felt my temper meter (nearing total irritability). receding...slowly..slowly.

And I was sane again.

Powerbooks Midtown--there was my twin waiting for me.

As I was telling that story to my twin sister and his boyfriend over dinner, I couldn't help but laugh remembering the obnoxious lady and my evil, retarded scheme to drive her away. My sister was just smiling and her boyfriend bluntly told me that he didn't find anything abt it funny. The fact that I was telling a story I thought was funny but wasnt funny at all to them made it even funnier to me. I AM weird.

Visualizing myself at that time, storytelling: Me--laughing (like Im just watching White Chicks again);They-smiling but not laughing...I find the picture really weird. To console myself, I'll describe that picture of mine as endearingly pathetic. :)

Just before finally leaving Jollibee, I told them right then that I am going to tell this story in my blog. I have a newfound definition for that line, ignorance is bliss. :)

The curious incident of a yellow notebook in the night time.

2008-01-26T20:01:00.000-08:00

Last week I was busily thinking about my yellow filler notebook in one of my major subjects. If there were anything I treasure most in my entire school life, they would be my papers and my friends and my notes. My notes. And one of them was nowhere to be found.

It was unacceptable of me, I thought. how could I lose it? I engaged in those kinds of self-pity and blame (which I promised myself I wouldnt do because Andrew Matthews said not to) :p. Anyway, I was totally devastated.

It was the cognitive dissonance theory working on me at that time. I am a neat freak yet I lost one of my notebook. My folders are color-coded so that I don't mix every subject in school--yet, I lost one of my notebooks.

So I remembered one of those morning Blue's Clues episodes I watched. It said there that If you have forgotten something...you have to go back where you were. I tried to recall the last time I saw it but nothing would register in my mind. I thought of just giving up. Maybe I left it in some room or maybe it fell while I was walking along the streets of Faura. I don't know.

It was already late at night and I was still looking for it. To exaggerate, I even prayed to the patron saint of lost things. And I prayed before going to sleep. And I prayed and prayed everyday.

I felt like it wasn't totally gone. I just have to pray and wait for it.

Just this Friday, I found it. Turned out, one of my classmates borrowed it. And THAT, I've also forgotten! Whew! What a major relief. I could almost talk to my notebook and say "I thought I've lost you."--which is, I admit, inappropriately melodramatic.

That afternoon, after my last prof of the day decided to cut the class 30 minutes earlier, I watched Pupil perform live in school. Strangely, they were singing.. Mahahanap din kita...Mahahanap din kita...Mahahanap din kita...The song and the sound of the drums and guitar strings banging through my ears and the loud cheering crowd felt like walls of voices closing in on me telling me: told you.

For years, ive been a witness of everyday miracles in my life. Even this simple experience told me that prayers help. Really. :)

Drooling over a yummy new year.

2007-12-30T23:29:00.000-08:00

Im eating chestnuts right now. Staring blankly ahead. Staring through the computer screen. Ha! Like I have laser eyes.

So this is going to be my last entry for the year. Im planning to make some changes about things. About..things. (these chestnuts are really good).

Im just following some stream of consciousness thingy so...bear with me?

In about eight hours, it's going to be the new year. In about two hours, I will be baking lemon macadamia cookies and a cake. Good thing my brother was able to bring me home macadamias from Singapore. I had trouble looking for those here. And they're free because he paid for them. (Me, whispering: He's got his bank account full, you know? hehe).

I spent my little vacation finishing school stuff and reading and playing and sleeping and going out and shopping. I played computer games with my sisters and wasnt even content about reaching level 43 in that bomber man game in gameboy (oh boy, those were some sleepless nights--haha). I got hooked in that Diner Dash game and another game where you have to solve a crime of some sort and look for things, which really trained my CSI skills. I got re-acquainted with Jenny Cavalleri ('don't bullsh*t me preppie!) and Oliver Barrett IV-- in the novel. And I got to convince Phoebe that im her real biological mother. Only that she doesnt call me 'mom'. :p

I wonder if I have to give a little pep talk with whoever is reading this right now. Do I have to say stuff like "every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end"? Or could I just wish you a happy new year? Well, happy new year. And if you're living a mundane existence, or felt like you had, try to make your life meaningful. :)

I can't recall these lines from My Big Fat Greek Wedding. There's this scene where the father is talking to her daughter (i think) and he's telling something about letting go of the past but taking them with you as you grow and move forward--something like that. :)

I have things to look forward to in 2008. Apart from the new season of LOST (sayid, you're back!) and National Treasure 2 and T. Burton's Sweeney Todd and more grueling school work, I have more people to encounter and more experiences to learn from.

And more cookies to bake. :)

We're the new face of failure (my seemingly superficial & nonsensical rumination).

2007-12-15T22:56:00.000-08:00

We were on our way home tuesday night when a song played on the radio. It was this song by Fall Out Boy that I never really got around to 'listen' very intently--can also be interpreted as such: 'i know i hear it but i just don't care.'

It was a familiar song but none of those I knew by heart. And the chorus was playing:

Me and You...hmmmmmm...if i woke up next to you. if i woke up next to you...

From the moment the song started, I started rocking my head up and down, right and left.. although i didnt know the lines of the stanza, at least i was non-verbally enjoying the music; and I was doing so quite stealthily in the passenger seat. When the first chorus played, i started singing and my vocal stylings could be illustrated like this:

Me and You...(pause, twitched eyebrows, dropped jaw)...if i woke up next to you. if i woke up next to you...

This scene was repeated a couple of times until I think the 3rd chorus.

I asked earl what the missing lyrics were. All i could understand was honeymoon (and i wasn't even sure about that). He told me he was not sure either. So i started hypothesizing (logically, mind you.:p) and i came up with the following lyrics to fill the gap in the chorus:

sitting in a high moon
sitting under a high moon
setting up a honeymoon
sitting in a honeymoon
singing in our honeymoon
singing in a high moon
singing under a high moon
sitting in a high noon

Earl said it might be "setting in a honeymoon". I asked if it could really be and we spent the next choruses of the song turning up the volume of the radio and moving our heads toward the stereo (as if that would help somehow alleviate our current frustration).

I spent the next days asking friends and my sisters if they could tell me the right lyrics. Some told me to just search it in the internet. Yes, I could have just searched the net for it but for some reason I didn't. I somehow felt like googling it would be some form of cheating. That Fall Out Boy song challenged me and I wasn't going to give up my thinking brain to some one-second search results. I wasn't willing to swallow my pride. haha. (i know i sound stupid but heck, stupidity keeps us alive doesnt it? ;p).

After a few days (and before writing this blog), I was convinced the right lyrics was: setting in a honeymoon. It made the most perfect sense.

Googled it finally and i was right (yey!); but i did not get the title right. The exact title of the song is: Im like a lawyer with the way im always trying to get you off (Me & You). --just when you thought you got everything figured out.sigh.

But still, i was proud. Because as advised by Robert Frost, I took the road less travelled. haha.I enjoyed cracking my brains and coming up with hilariously invalid hypotheses, instead of just consulting Bill Gates' money-making machine in one click of a button (although I did consult it for verification purposes). :p

Times a'changin and people get dragged to the 'in an instant' trend. Funny as it may seem nowadays, success still comes sweeter when you work hard for it.

Me and You, setting in a honeymoon, if i woke up next to you.

If I woke up next to you.

It's not just a love song.

That song title poses more probing to the meaning of the song. Reading between the lines is harder than just trying to figure out what the lines are.

How I wish I had my really useful book this time.

I'll send an SOS to the world

2007-11-08T23:34:00.000-08:00

Last week I've finished reading this book, Message in a Bottle by Nicholas Sparks.

I read the book because my parents recommended it, especially my dad. He said it made him cry. My mother attested to that too. I was intrigued (hmmm..). So I read it.

After finishing the book, i literally checked if there were any sign of tear forming anywhere around my eyes (you see, I had to do that because sometimes i don't realize that I'm crying already,--that's what happened after finishing the Little Prince--and I'm learning from experience). :) None. No tear at all. Not one sign of any liquid material. None. Maybe I felt a bit sad, but not sad enough to cry. I only sympathized--yeah, that's the word.

Where was I supposed to cry?-I asked my dad that and he thought that that inquiry of mine was hilarious. Yet I was serious; I did not know what was so 'cryable'--if Mr. Webster permits me to invent a word--about it. Really.

Of course, i liked the letters, the messages in the bottle. As a girl, I would have really fallen in love with the mysterious man who wrote those; but, I thought the story was too romantic--too unrealistic. I don't know, maybe I'm slowly evolving into one of the cynics. I think I loved the first few parts only before the girl met the guy. Maybe because there was no mystery anymore. You know that they'll fall in love, eventually fight then make up..and, oh I don't want to spoil. ;p

I liked the whole concept of the message in bottle, the intimacy of the characters, the conflict and all but not the predictibility of all these elements added up.. Yes, I told my dad that the story was predictable, and he argued that it wasn't. Anyway, I still think it's predictable. :) And I did not like how Sparks take the woman's point of view in his writing in that book. I thought it was not real or maybe too stereotyped (in some situations in the story), coming from a woman reader. However, in general, Sparks knows how to tickle your heartstrings . He does so quite effortlessly actually, having read the Notebook (my fave book of his) and A Walk to Remember. It's just me talking though.

So we have this video cd of the movie adapatation too and I thought it sucked. Yes. Except for the parts when Charlie (Robbie Coltrane--same actor who plays Hagrid in Harry PotPot) comes out. He looks exactly like my dad! haha. It's not totally a trash movie but..well, I did not really like it. ( And I hope my dad does not ask me back my shopping spree for this!)

Maybe I AM biased. My opinion of the book might have affected my opinion of the movie, eh?

I did love the thought of the ocean. Living near it. Jogging along the shore. Even just sitting on the shore. I remember telling my parents that I'll get them a house by the sea someday (when I've successfully robbed a casino ala Ocean's 11..kid ;p) when I have pleeenttty of money already (evil grin). haha. :p It's peaceful out there. I could only imagine. :)

I hope to see a bottle washed up on the shore someday--with a message inside it; but nah, we'll see..

If you want to find something, you better stop looking for it, right?--that's the whole point of the story after all...Or so I think. :)

crazy mixed up beauty (pre-halloween & post-final paper musings)

2007-10-11T04:15:00.000-07:00

Last night, I can't sleep.

I found it very unusual especially during these times when there are a lot of things to do and you just wish that you could stay in bed and relax. And breathe.

Just for a little while.

Last night, I've finished one major paper and i was..what's the word? Happy? Yeah, maybe. But there's a better word out there. I just can't figure it out yet.

I can't sleep. Why was that? I was tired and felt like my brain had just been extremely drained but, well, it just would not let me sleep. I had once this philosophy that you cannot really sleep when you keep thinking that you can't sleep. It's like some 'power of the mind' thing; and that those who tell you that they are insomniacs are really not insomniacs, they just want to be recognized as such as if it's "cool" to be like a nocturnal animal. Well, that's just me talking but it's a sleep disorder more than anything.

I can't sleep. I had counted sheep before but I could not remember if that was helpful. I also used to imagine myself walking up a flight of stairs and I would count every step. THAT was helpful. And still is. Sometimes, I would stop walking up and imagine that I have already reached a place. A beautiful place. I would be there and imagine a thousand wonderful things. Then, I would fall asleep.

But last night, I can't sleep. I couldn't sleep anymore at my room. Not without anyone to share the bed with me and I honestly would not want it shared again with some girl I don't even know. I can't risk sleeping alone at night but... we can't escape our dreams either. Maybe that's why freddy krueger and 1408 scare the hell out of me--Nobody does it better than anything out of my control. You don't know how you're going to escape. You don't know what's going to happen. It's out of your hands.

The unknown. It always scares us. Maybe that's why LIFE is so scary.

Last night, I can't sleep. Not because something was lurking in the shadows or someone was whispering my name. Nothing of those scary 'tactics". Not because Halloween is close at hand and I'm imagining all the bad spirits rising from the ground (like in that movie Ghost. haha). Well, Halloween IS near but I dont think the thought of all those halloween creatures crap kept me awake.

I was wide awake after a long, exhausting day when I should have been sleeping (probably snoring too--If I am to exaggerate my sleep deprivation ;p). I had to be reminded that I am in UP and suffering is mandatory. I know it sucks to suffer but after all the hard work, you just have to be grateful for all the learning you had.

I can't sleep. I thought of so many things (something we all probably do when we have nothing to do). I thought of people. Of school. Of work. Of life; but most especially I thought of people. Family, new friends, old friends, loved ones--I thought about them. I thought of how fast time flies. I thought of things I did right. The things I did wrong. Things I would wish to do.

I can't sleep and I realized that I was not alone. All of us share the same sentiments. Sometimes, we just have to sit for a while and reflect. Sometimes we just have to lie down and reflect. Sometimes we just have to stop and think about..everything.

Maybe that was why I can't sleep last night. After finishing my requirements in school and after spending so much time working, maybe it was time to spend some time for my self. Think about...everything.

Maybe I would forget the things I thought about last night. In fact. I can barely recall them now. :p; but Rob Thomas says: ...in the end we will only just remember how it feels... I could not agree more. All I could remember was that I can't sleep last night and everything else I felt, but not much details. I could only just remember how everything feels. To win. To lose. To laugh. To cry. To hurt. To wish. To hope. To love.

I woke up this morning (almost forgetting that I still have a class to attend! hehe) not fee;ing sleep-deprived nor tired at all. I woke up like I just stepped out of some machine that stripped me off all my negative energies. haha. :) Kidding aside, I woke up with a newfound sense of serenity.

How about tomorrow? I don't know.

I do know that my day would be good day. In spite of my monthly obnoxious PMS.

It's gonna be ok, as long as we laugh out loud--laugh like we're mad, 'cause this crazy mixed up beauty is all that we have. Because what's love, but an itch we can't scratch, a joke we can't catch...god, but still we laugh.
--good day, jewel.

Flushing out those work demons

2007-09-12T07:55:00.000-07:00

I was finally able to do again what i've felt has been some remote activity of mine-watch tv.

Amidst the plethora of things needed to be done (lotsa research papers, lotsa presentations and lotsa exams), i reached for the remote control immediately when i got home this afternoon. Sometimes, i tend to think that watching television without first accomplishing my tasks for the day is a grave sin because there is seriously so many things needed to be done for school.. And Im not being geek-y, although I am. Quite. :)

I was particularly disgruntled because it was raining very hard in Manila and my favorite slippers got wet (the one earl got for me last month). And yes, I was very tired.

I needed to de-stress, I thought. Maybe the tv can help me. True enough it did. I felt like connecting to the human race again in a different way. It resembles some form of mediated, one-way communication apart from the daily face-to-face social interaction, sms, internet/ym, etc.

There was a replay of Fear Factor, Couples edition i think. I found it funny and annoying that girls with their hands tied up to the shower and literally showering in blood (as part of their fear factor challenge, while their partners struggle to rescue them) would scream out loud. I did not know if they were really afraid or they just wanted to scream. I figured it to be a bit over-reacting. It was not even scary. I also watched Jeopardy and was pretty amazed and in some way relieved also to know that there are far nerdier people in the other side of the world. Oh, and I was able to answer.."Who is Danielle Steel?" and that final question, "Who is Anne Boleyn?". :).

When I got home also, my mum was watching a Filipino film, Separada. It starred Maricel Soriano and Edu Manzano. Their children were Patrick Garcia and Angelica Panganiban. There was a scene there where Maricel was sitting beside the little Angelica Panganiban and was trying to soothe her because Patrick, his brother, was bullying the little girl. It's interesting that in a recent movie, these two actresses are fighting over one man. From a simple mother-daughter roles years ago to a completely different mature roles (whose relationship is characterized with a lot of tension). It was just strange to watch that scene in the old film and try to compare it with the new film. To me, Maricel even looks younger today than years ago. :p

That was just a thought. Anyway..it has been awfully stressful lately.

So what keeps me going? It's the thought that there is no burden I can't bear. God assured me that. And with my loved ones around me, what could possibly go wrong? I have all the inspiration I need.

I'll have phoebe to save my day too.

Compatibility test: madness and sanity.

2007-08-15T20:47:00.000-07:00

I suddenly remember that last class in Environmental Geology.

We were talking about Pangea. We were talking about Plate Tectonics Theory. The teacher said that there were theories saying that the Philippines might have been formed somewhere in the same exact place where Australia is currently situated.

That new information surprised me. Twas a pleasant surprise really. You see, Hugh Jackman is from Australia...(yea, i have a point) hehe. To think that my land in the past might have been there in that same place where he was born, where he grew up.. that's really something. haha. We might have been soul mates after all. haha

I'll stop now. The more i believe in this theory (and all other theories that ratify my compatibility and happily-ever-afters with my celebrity crushes), the more i perceive it to be real. I admit, it's rather silly. But it keeps me sane nonetheless. :)

In my lifetime, i have known that there are some things I cannot change. There are things that I just need to accept. However, this does not mean that I have to give up whatever it is I think is right or true. I will have to borrow a line from a Billy Joel song to describe myself in this case in point: She never gives up. And she never gives in...She just changes her mind..

My Social Science professor jokingly said also that Galileo was fond of using his telescope and that Galileo would spy every now and then on his neighbors...before actually pointing his telescope to the sky and studying. I believe that was not true. But that was funny. Reminded me of the film I just recently saw, Disturbia. I liked that movie.

That movie also espouses my idea on truth. How far will you go to fight for it? How will you know when to just abandon your pursuit? Should you? What if there are forces at work against you? What will you do?

Truth will remain truth. You don't need anyone or anything to convince you otherwise.

That line from the film The Count of Monte Cristo, it says: God will give me justice.

Do you believe that?

There are a multitude of things in my head right now. Like, how do you define truth anyway? Are dreams truth? Is imagination truth?

The world is going mad by the minute. With all this philosophies. With all these thoughts. Blame it on human beings for being such complex creatures with complicated brains. It's both a blessing and a curse.

Review of lessons, of people and of things past.

2007-07-17T23:49:00.000-07:00

It was Sunday and normally my sisters and I would gather around the dining room and study. Oftentimes we would chat during breaks and tell stories about anything. Of course, music is one 'pre-requisite' to one hell of a conducive learning experience for us. Simply put, we have to have music while studying. Well, not always but most times..yes. :)

So we were studying. We were reviewing. I was pre-occupied with the philosophies of Plato, Aristotle, Augustine and Aquinas. I only had a glimpse of the papers my twin was seriously perusing. I managed to get the idea that she was studying about muscles or tissues or anything related to that because she would recite them to herself once in awhile (you know, sometimes when you're studying you just have to do some sort of soliloquy...gives you confidence that somehow you wouldn't forget right?). On the other hand, I was talking to an invisible audience about the society of Classical Antiquity and Medieval period. It's like talking in front of the mirror without the mirror---which reminded me of that game Sims. A sim can practice speech in front of the mirror and it helps him/her to gain a point in his/her Charisma in the Skills section--which improves his/her chances in getting a job promotion. Aye, I was and still am a Sims fan (although I only get to play the PS2 version during vacation).

Going back. We were all reading. Ate may, ako, ate len. First, I played dreamsounds 1. Then after all the tracks had been played, I went looking for the Disney album and the Jazz in the City album but failed to find them. So I put the first Westlife album on. haha.

My twin and I were singing along and Ate May was: "What the?!". Believe it or not, we knew all the songs there by heart. I think we were in grade 6 during the peak of Westlife's stardom. We even had autographs and copies of their first album with the special acapella edition. I still have Mark Feehily's press conference photo. HAHAHA! I think I had sworn also that I'd marry him someday (little girls always want to marry their favorite celebrities). I was a foolish little girl. I can only smile and deny my insanely idiosyncratic ideas in retrospect. :p

I cannot deny though that the album was a very good collection of love songs. At least, it appealed to me and my sisters (ate may was also a HUGE westlife fan then, but people change..hehe). My twin and I are not huge fans of them now but that first album would always be a part of us. We somehow grew up with those songs. We knew every word and would still sing along whenever we hear them (just like Shania Twain's Come on Over album--buuut that's a different story). :p

A personal favorite in that album is 'flying without wings'. Read the lyrics. It's so heartwarming. Very sweet and makes you just want to sit back and reflect about the things most important in life---things people just tend to neglect. The acapella version is awesome too. You can sing it on your wedding day, to your bestfriend, to your family, to your parents and siblings, to your teacher and to God---anyone who is that special to you. Or anyone who's not even 'special' but has made a great impact in your life in ways that they may not even be aware of.

It's the little things that only i know...
Those are the things that make you mine.

Call me baduy, or corny or cheesy or overly optimistic but..yes, I believe that I'm flying. Without wings. Every. Single. Day.

I am blessed and grateful.

..And you're the place my life begins and you'll be where it ends...

>We all want to 'fly'. Maybe not the Nathan Petrelli kind of 'fly' (because only superheroes can do that!). :). But we all WANT to feel like we can fly, right?

Well, we ALL have already flown. Think about it.

..And maybe, just maybe, you'll find yourself flying again. Just like the Darling children. Feels great, eh? :)

A 'one for the books' curious mayhem involving (in part) multi-color pens.

2007-06-04T04:18:00.000-07:00

It's a must to know what you really want. What you really love. Yeah, I know. Ive just been there. In the context of a book store and an unforgettable literary conquest.

There's this Fully Booked gift certificate worth php 1000 which I had received for my birthday. It was from my mother's bestfriend (back in her college days in UPD). We occasionally hang out together and we almost always go to Glorietta and head to Greenbelt's Powerbooks. She knew that my sisters and I love books.

I have the certificate but don't know what book/s to buy.

I've spent months figuring out. It's not everyday that I get to pick whichever book I like for free! So many books out there. So many good books. So many great books.

The only Fully Booked store i know is in Rockwell. I remember buying a book there for a friend's debut after watching Superman Returns with my family. It was only months ago when I acquired that FYI experience about a Fully Booked in MOA. I was quite surprised and practically relieved to know that I didn't have to go to Makati just to make use of that certificate.

After my org meeting earlier this day, earl and I met at the Mall of Asia. I brought my gift certificate with me. I already had books in mind, i told him. After lunch, we headed to the book shop (which I'm pretty sure I would've found only after an hour or so of scurrying around the huge mall If I were alone :p). Upon entering the shop, I immediately grabbed Coelho's new novel The Witch of Portobello. It cost roughly Php 600. I still had Php 400. I had another book in mind.

There were too many books. Reminded me of Beast's library in Disney's Beauty and the Beast. I felt like Belle, delighted to see a huge collection of the world's best literature (although undeniably smaller than the Powerbooks in the same mall). I approached the lady at the counter who gave me an affable smile and asked 'Yes ma'am, how may I help you?'. I asked her if they have Ernest Hemingway's A Moveable Feast. She made me repeat the title and so I did. Then she must have entered the book's title or the author's name in her computer, I didnt know. By the look on her face, I was beginning to guess that they didn't have the book. Then she made me repeat the title and so I did. I would have spelled "moveable" for her but I figured I might come or sound as huffily demanding. Then she asked me the author's name instead and so I told her again 'Hemingway'. Turned out, they didnt have the book. And by the way the girl at the counter said it, she sounded like she felt sorry. I just can't figure out if she felt sorry for me or for the store or for herself. I found that kinda funny. A little funny. Real funny.

That said, I needed to look around for a book I would like, which would cost php 400 or less. I spent most of the time walking around, looking around and thinking hard. That remaining php 400 seemed like a very important decision. (well it was :p). Twas a mind-boggling conundrum that suited my fancy. I wasn't just going to engage in random picking and pointing, no way!

Earl was checking out books and reading while i moved around giddily. I was secretly laughing at myself for spending almost half an hour or so just looking for a book. I was determined I wasn't going to leave the store and just save this 'pursuit' for some other day. I skimmed through the shelves, met so many authors, so many characters. I looked particularly for Dickinson, Sparks, Garcia-Marquez, Neruda, Keats, Steinbeck, Gaiman, Sionil Jose, other contemporary authors I know only by the title of their books, histories, cook books and graphic novels among others but none of them was php 400 or less (I knew they were going to be expensive but I checked anyway and pointlessly crossed my fingers). I walked from here to there, kneeled, stooped, sat on the floor, reached out for books..well, you get the picture.

There were only me, earl and no more than two customers in the store (who I swear didn't last as long as earl and I did). :p

The music/album of Michael Learns To Rock was playing. "...she looks so happy in her wedding dress but she's crying while she was saying this...". I heard the girl at the counter singing. I was humming along.

I stumbled upon Shakespeare. I already have his complete works in a single, thick book (my mum got for me in her US trip) along with the Bronte Sisters'. However, there was this book that interested me. The book wasn't Shakespeare's plays. It was ABOUT Shakespeare and his plays. An epiphany hit me. There's so many books ABOUT Shakespeare but I haven't purchased a single one of them (i just borrow and read in our campus library); I haven't actually OWNED one. The book cost php 254, by an author named Michael LoMonico. It's pretty good. :)

Then we left. Maybe I'd get that A Moveable Feast somewhere else. Someday.

I'm sure I have a lot of books I would want to check out. It's funny I couldn't recall these books when I'm actually IN a book store. Anywhere else, there's always a book I'd like to buy. It's like I have this strange curse that whenever I enter a book store, unless I know what to buy prior to entering it, my mind turns into a blur and just becomes so engrossed with the countless books I see. And I end up confused and not knowing very well what to buy. Strange.

We must really know what we want. What we're looking for. Why else do you think mothers or grandmothers or whoever does your groceries list items to be bought first before heading to the grocery?

If you're wondering what i bought for the remaining Php 147, I bought a set of multi-color pens worth php 144. I just know it would be of good use some time. That three pesos unclaimed change might well be worth it.

Other desirable mishaps before sleep (you wouldn't want to know)

2007-05-23T22:21:00.000-07:00

Dance like no one's watching.

Last night, I did. My twin was using the computer, playing Rihanna's "Umbrella" incessantly (haha). Ate May just went to bed and Kuya was glued on the telly in the family room watching Voltes Five. I had nothing to do. So I danced! (yes I did). Like nobody's watching...well, except for my sister and maybe phoebe who had been tossing and turning in her sleep.

I enjoyed it. That whole mtv production of mine. With the wind from the electric fan blowing through my hair. I couldn't even emulate Ne-yo's dance moves but I think I did pretty well imitating Aguilera's Candyman moves.

Yes, I do pathetic, crazy, even downright bizarre things sometimes. You should have been there.. grin.

Before dancing, I sang too. I found these old lyrics from my box (I used to collect song lyrics I liked). There were church songs, songs mostly from the dreamsounds album and I even had Elton John's "Your Song" and Bread's "Diary"!!--the good oldies. They have always captured my heart.

Bedtime. My twin and I just realized that we had no blanket. We slept in my parents' room the night before and we left our blanket there. Sloth struck. Nobody wanted to get any blanket from anybody's room; but we have been used to sleeping with a blanket!-- (to be read like a little child complaining :p). So we agreed we'll just put on pajamas. That way we'll get our legs covered. So we did. I had on my HS jogging pants. Then we turned the light off.

I couldn't sleep still. My legs were covered but my feet weren't. For some reason my feet felt cold and I wished I had a blanket. After nearly ten minutes of drooling over a blanket in the dark, I got up, turned the light on and put on a pair of white socks. I just had to.

Now that felt better. I would go through that entire cover-up-my-whole-body wardrobe If I had to. Why didn't we get a blanket in the first place? Why didn't I just get one?

I don't know. It's a mystery. :)

I went to sleep. In comfort. Even without the blanket.

I went to sleep. Wearing my HS jogging pants, my mum's badminton shirt and a pair of white socks.

I went to sleep. Thinking about whether Jeffrey Sebelia would make it to the Olympus fashion week and half-hoping that Blake wins this year's season of American Idol.

Spidey experience and something more.

2007-05-11T05:31:00.000-07:00

Earlier this day, I was having dinner with my boyfriend and his mum after seeing a movie. We were at Razon's. I noticed a group of people seated at the table next to us. Immediately, I found one of the faces familiar to me. I usually see one of them (a guy in pink) around UPM campus although I don't really know who he is (if he's a student or professor). I nudged my boyfriend's elbow to tell him about it. Then the waiter came with our order.

While eating, these group of students/professors beside us were talking non-stop and people within two meters around them could actually hear them. They were talking about European Union, Parliamentary, the upcoming elections etc. Obviously, they were talking about politics. I thought that maybe they are from the Debate Circle or Political Science Majors. Then they started talking about the UP system. The rankings of four universities in the country, specifically UP, Ateneo, UST and LaSalle. I was eating my halo-halo but can't help smiling every now and then because of a thought that crossed my mind: "Do I sound like these people when I'm out with my classmates?"; "Do I talk about politics like that?"; "Do I take on serious issues like that?". I kept smiling because I realized I do.

Sometimes, a conversation topic just carries you away and then you just find yourself burrowed in that subject. It doesn't have to be serious/intellectual stuff, even the shallowest of the shallowest subject keeps us talking.

However, oftentimes when I'm out with my twin sister having lunch or just eating out for snack, we usually find ourselves talking about serious matters. Just delving into complicated matters. In the middle of our conversation, we sometimes stop and get surprised at how long we've been talking and how serious we really get. It's funny. Same goes also with my classmates. I remember talking to a friend of mine about student activism in college. We just kept on talking about the subject that morning until our professor finally entered the room.

But then, who dotes on talking about intellectual stuff all the time? It's boring. We need to veer away from complicated affairs and start appreciating simple, silly even foolish conversation pieces once in a while. Right? It wouldn't hurt to talk about make-up, the new trick you taught your dog, that embarrassing moment lately etc (though Im not saying that these are complete 'trifles'!).

I was feeling satiated already from eating too much food. We ate before the movie and then we were eating again after seeing it. We had also been talking. About the spidey suit Earl used to wear as a child. (",) About how cheaper the halo-halo in Pampanga is (the original Razon's) than in Manila. About summer plans, etc. The guys beside us eventually ceased the politics talk and started teasing each other. There were even periods of silence. Even them could not stand the endless serious talk. This slightly calls to mind the "all work, no play..." philosophy (Is that a philosophy in the first place? hehe).

Those people looked happy, even joking around as they were leaving. I had to get my last glimpse of them before they left. They were some group of friends who enjoyed the company of one another no matter what they were talking about (even if they weren't talking at all!). It was one rare snapshot in my mind I wouldn't miss. Unpretentious and natural people.

Then it was time for us to go. My boyfriend held my hand as we left the place and headed to the parking lot. It had been one fine day and the city lights welcomed us as the car pulled away from the mall.

The waking up part in Liverpool

2007-05-08T22:49:00.000-07:00

I almost fell out of my bed this morning.

I had been dreaming. I can remember it actually. As a matter of fact, I think I could write a whole new novel out of it. Good story. Surprisingly good. I remember reading a book (a very large and heavy one) featuring an article about how well-known artists/writers/people got their ideas from their dreams. I think those people included Einstein, Beethoven, Bach, Newton among others.

That's really interesting.

Liverpool. I remember Liverpool because last night, as I was sewing a blouse three sizes larger than me (apparently, i was sewing it to transform it into a more flattering top-oh my God! I'm thin!), I was also watching Mike Myers' interview in the Tonight Show with Jay Leno. Myers is from Liverpool. It is also the home of the Beatles-a fact I had known only less than two months ago while watching Travel Asia. Now, that's odd. It only occurred to me now. Why would the show cover Liverpool, which is in England, when it's supposed to feature travel destinations in Asia (as implied by its title)?

Maybe the show also features places outside Asia for Asian people. That's why it's Travel Asia. Travels for people from Asia. If it were only to talk about Asian destinations for an audience comprised mainly of Asian people, it would be boring. Eventually, the audience would become restless..

I sounded fairly proud & dim-witted at the same time answering my own rhetorical question.

Oh well, I'd like to go visit Liverpool someday. Its strawberry fields. Its culture. Its people. Its diverse attractions.

Phoebe is sleeping like oil right now (beside the computer chair Im sitting on). I wonder what she's dreaming about.

S P E C I A L

2007-05-02T21:20:00.000-07:00

We all have a song that somehow stamped our lives, takes us to another place and time.
- "I Go Back" by country singer Kenny Chesney.

Funny how some people, things, places, experiences, memories stay with you for a long time. You don't even realize that they have been part of you ever since you were very young. However, sometimes you just bump into them and look back and reminisce and...smile. :)

There is this song that has been my favorite song for the longest time. I first heard it in the movie "Runaway Bride". We had this cassette tape of the movie soundtrack which I used to play over and over whenever I got home from school. I was 11 or 12 years old at that time. Eventually, the tape was broken because of my endless playbacks of it. My heart was broken too because there was no place else I could probably hear it again except if I were to watch that part of the movie when it was played again. See? That was a problematic time for me.

When I was 11 or 12 years old, I doubt that the internet could've provided me the access to that audio because I remember browsing through the internet and not finding one. Also, my favorite song doesn't fall into the "mainstream" type of music so it is not played very much on the radio. Im not really a very big fan of mainstream music.

So, just picture that. I actually "longed" to hear it for years.

It was December (or January) of my fourth year in HS when I received a mail from my cousins in Canada. My kuya Ron managed to find me a cd of the soundtrack of Runaway Bride. I was thrilled! I was very very happy. =)

April 21, 2006 (12:35 am), for the first time I heard my favorite song on the radio. It was on one of those radio stations that usually play the not-so-mainstream but very good music. If you're a regular listener, you'll know which station Im talking about. :p

Through the years, there have been countless songs that I liked and listened to; but there's a reason why there's the word 'favorite' in my favorite song. It's that song that I've been in love with for years. The song I would never get tired of listening to. The song that just feels like home. Just like my favorite movie. I've probably seen "My Bestfriend's Wedding" many times unimaginable (it's crazy!) ; but I wouldn't mind seeing it again. =)

There are things that stay with us. They've been part of our subconscious selves. That favorite song, movie, place, food, childhood memory or whatever just speaks to you that's why it has been so SPECIAL. Sometimes, people don't understand, but YOU do. You should. :p We have our own, unique preferences after all.

Oh, my favorite song by the way is Never Saw Blue Like That by Shawn Colvin. :) * I found out in the later years that the song was also included in the soundtrack album of the tv show "Dawson's Creek". *

I don't listen to it everyday. I may be head over heels in love with the music of norah jones and sarah maclachlan among all others but when I do hear "Never Saw Blue Like That", I know in my heart that it IS and HAS ALWAYS BEEN my favorite song. All these years. :)

Bakit tunaw na agad ice cream ko?

2007-04-22T23:36:00.000-07:00

Summer na naman. Mainit. Tumatagaktak ang pawis mo. Plak! Plak! Plak! Tama. Ganyan ang eksagerasyong kailangan para sa mainit na kapanahunang pumapaso sa balat mo.

Minsan sa sobrang init, natatakot akong mangyari sakin yung napanood ko isang araw, noong wala akong magawa sa bahay. Sa National Geographic pinalabas yung tungkol sa spontaneous combustion. Marami pa ring teorya kung bakit nangyayari yun. "Posible kayang masunog ako sa sobrang init?"--baliw na yata ako.

Kung napanood niyo naman yung "An Inconvenient Truth" ni Al Gore (kung saan natulugan ko ang kalagitnaan), marahil alam niyo na ang mga panganib na dulot ng Global Warming. Alam na naman talaga natin bago pa nagpaliwanag at nagjoke joke si Al Gore sa kanyang dokumentaryo. Hindi lang natin pinapansin. Ngayon, pansing pansin na. Sana. GRABE na ang init. GRABE.

At kawawa ang mga polar bears.

Masaya pa ba ang summer? Kahit napakainit? Oo naman. (toink!) Sa mga susunod na taon, sunog na tayo. Masaya pa ba iyon? Isipin natin. Maraming taon mula ngayon, may kakanta pa ba ng "I just wanna be on the beach!"? Teka, may beach pa ba kayang mapupuntahan?

Minsan, kailangan lang talaga nating magmasid. MAKINIG.

at Kumilos.

kahit man lang sa ating mumunting paraan.http://www.climatecrisis.net/takeaction/

*********

"Don't it always seem to go that you don't know what you have until it's gone?"

*I also recommend visiting this site: http://www.pbs.org/strangedays/episodes/onedegreefactor/ or watch National Geographic's "Strange Days on Planet Earth" series.*

Hours and pages

2007-04-21T06:06:00.000-07:00

Four years ago, I've considered it a total disgrace to find myself not doing anything. Ive been a workaholic, I would say; but that was way before I've discovered that totally bumming is actually glorifying--in some occasions.

I spent the day reading, watching tv and sleeping. That means i never really left our bedroom except when I had to go get something to eat, go to the comfort room, or check on phoebe (she's been sick for quite awhile). My sisters all went somewhere. Some swimming trip. I was reading this book, "Orange Girl" (a book by Jostein Gaarder which was a birthday gift as well) and I am only a couple of pages before finishing it. While reading, I've also been doing some critique about it in my head. You see, I came to the point of telling myself that the author sounded really silly (with all the exaggerated theories he presented) and that the story seemed too unrealistic too. However, I kept reading. I realized after awhile that he's making perfect sense. I guess any author should be given that credit. It's all a 'matter of perspective' anyway. Also, I think that people, at one point in time, resort to creating silly theories in their heads either to console themselves or make their lives miserable. It's just "human". We humans are all "thinking" creatures. The book is easy to understand though. The story seems simple but if you think about it, the author is trying to tell readers something, just as how the father in the story is trying to get his message across to his son. Go figure. All the information also about the Hubble Space telescope and astronomy got me interested as well. I love astronomy. Of course, the orange girl interested me too, even after her identity was revealed (which I think is too early a revelation). I'll give my final verdict when I've finished it. :)

And then, I slept for nearly two hours. I must have dreamt about the orange girl. I couldn't recall now.

Wingless Cupid

2007-04-06T08:11:00.000-07:00

I wrote the following sonnet two years ago. It was summer and perhaps I was in love. With the idea of Love. I thought about unrequited love. "Unrequited", in my opinion, is the famous and the most notorious word ever attributed to love, more than "lost love". It is hard to love and not be loved in return. It is truly heartbreaking.

However, I also thought about people who refuse to feel love. Those who deny their feelings. Having no feelings for another is one but having feelings and denying them is another. Both result in unrequited love (for the other person) nevertheless; but the latter could also result in self-inflicted injuries--regrets, loneliness, longing..

I left the sonnet untitled but I was forced to give it a title months ago when a friend of mine from the Manila Collegian got interested in my works. I needed to give it a title before submitting it. :)

Wingless Cupid

What is love when love is ignored? Denied?

Nothing but a song restrained with mere words;

Never unfurled in sweet musical pride

Untouched behind all the awaiting boards.

Is it not that such must be unbridled?

Free from doubts, aches and deep melancholy?

'Tis a wondrous sea that should be reveled,

'Tis not a lost unnoticed mystery.

For the soul will be but heavy blindness

Aloft in frailty and such futile fate!

Lost in the deep chasm of nothingness

The chagrin that clocks refuse to abate.

For love denied is life in constant daze

Without the sight of happiness ablaze.

--If you analyze it, my last two lines do not hold true all the time. People have their reasons for denying love.

Oftentimes, people just need to (deny love or ignore love for another) and you will find that that very choice is their sole source of happiness. Hard to believe, i know.

Sojourn

2007-04-06T07:41:00.000-07:00

I feel like I need to add something to this blog. Besides the fact that I am totally wasting my time on the net doing nothing and that I'd rather write than be completely bored stiff, i feel some creative juices coming.

It has been a year since I have created my first blog. I eventually got rid of it after I've figured that I hardly put anything "sensible" in it (although I received few comments; one from a person who did not believe that I was 17 years old..I WAS 17 years old). I took it as a compliment anyway.

I've resurrected this blog just two months ago for unknown reasons. You could say that some voice in my head commanded me to (well, that's really funny and stupid) or you can say that I just felt like writing, or to put it more appropriately, blogging again (THAT is more of an acceptable reason i guess).

School kept my hands full that I hardly had time to write by March. I haven't even finished Coelho's "Zahir" and Gaarder's "The Orange Girl" and could only occasionally peruse Gaiman's "Fragile Things" (my Tito Pete's bday gift--thank you tito!). Sigh. Thank God it's summer. I have a lot more time to catch up on both my writing and reading. :)

"Writing is its own reward."--a good friend once told me. :p

To you, who's reading this now. I say, "Hello stranger". The lady is pleased to meet you. :)

Feel free to explore my blog site. Leave a comment if you want. Learn lessons if you should. :p

My Beautiful Everydays

2007-02-13T02:53:00.000-08:00

What is it that I really want? Exactly what most people ask themselves. I do know what i want.

I want to live simply. Hear music. Engage in life's conversations. Watch the birds fly as they go on their daily routines. Just appreciate life in its simplicity.

I picture myself just sitting on my chair. Just outside a house in the country. A place where I am totally unbeknownst of life's upsetting drudgeries. And I would not be bored at all. I will only have peacefulness and silence as my companion. Maybe I'll be with someone. A genuine person. Someone who would share the silence with me.

I shall watch days pass by spending time with nature. With poetry. With people I hold most dear in my heart. Loneliness is inevitable though but the wonders in my heart shall keep solitude and chagrin in places where they must be. Life will never look as much pleasant.

But then, I'll constantly think of the yesterdays. The sunsets and sunrises of them all. I will be content. Perhaps, there'll be little "what if's" but I will still feel wonderful nonetheless. Nothing happens by chance. I did choose to live like I'll always be home.

Free Verse

2007-02-13T02:51:00.000-08:00

Writing is perhaps the greatest form of relegation. It is the most exquisite type of searching into the soul and bringing out to the world one's thoughts. I concur with what John Locke said--that we all have our blank sheets of paper ready to be filled with experiences as we grow old.

I never liked writing when I was younger. Somehow, i had developed an interest for it in my exposure to people and to words. Words do not have to be beautiful nor impressive in its use. They only have to be used in the same purpose that they had been invented--to communicate.

I could only create a metaphysical impression of my tabula rasa in my mind. I could only imagine a once blank sheet of paper, now with all the messy writings on it. Why a mess? Because that's what life is. There may be a picture amidst that mess, and a wonderful picture for that one but life will remain imperfect.

I am mortal but my thoughts sail beyond immortality.

I am invincible as long as I'm alive.