Friday

It's 3 pm, I'm on my coffee break...(uhrm, non-coffee break).  It's the second time this year that I pulled caffeine off my system before my body could protest. And now, I'm as lethargic as my neighbor's fat pitbull. I thought if I offered my abstinence from coffee (something I like so much) with my prayers, my utmost wishes will seem most legitimate and sincerely desired, and hence, answers will be expedited. I'm just praying for someone really really dear to me. Which reminds me, I listen to Catholic Radio AM1260 now on the way to work and back. A couple of days ago, they were talking about how prayers are in essence expressions of love. You pray for someone because you care. You ask others to pray for you because you trust that their prayers can help. You almost trust your lives to them. You pray to God because you resign to His designs or bargain with Him because you know He won't let you down. It portrays loving relationships and how we nurture these.  Anyway, right now, I just feel like sticking my head in the freezer.  Just thaw me when I can drink coffee again. I'll tell you when.

It's Friday! I adore Fridays! I'm going to my cousin's tonight for a pots and pans party or something like that.

***

Apparently I didn't finish yesterday's post. The pots and pans party was impressive. Surgical stainless steel cookware...no oil or water needed.  It sounded like fun but definitely pricey. They had air and water purifier/ionizer systems too. I would definitely buy if I had 3 grand readily dispensable. I mean, we do but it's definitely not a priority right now. Anyway, the fried chicken was really great! I had a great time together with my cousins, an occasion we barely get now.

Today, we woke up late and stayed in bed til noon. It's hubby's HUG WIFEY SATURDAY. Later this afternoon, I'll be spending time at my sister's for the Pacquiao fight. Right now, hubby's picking up food from Carl's Jr. Been craving for them fried zuchinis lately hahaha.  What a lazy Saturday, I'm not cooking...I'm not even doing laundry.  I'm not doing anything!

Hubby and I are smelling the flowers. Til then!

Skin-deep...

        So we finally meet after 5 years. She finally meets the woman who her ex-boyfriend fell head over heels in love with. I finally meet the woman who loved and cared for the man I married for more than a decade before I came (pun unintended) into his life. She finally meets the woman she referred to as the “fat b*tch” and I finally meet the woman I referred to as the “ugly b*tch” (Out of disdain, I always thought, well you can lose “fat” but what do you do with “ugly”? Plus, she wasn’t so skinny to begin with).

         It wasn’t so bad. Just a bit of formalities here and there, a shaking of the hands (I offered mine first –brownie points!), uttering the automatic “nice to meet you” that goes with the handshake (did we really mean it?), partying with the rest of the crowd and maybe scrutinizing each other in stolen glances. Simple. So bitterly peaceful. It has been five years anyway. I guess we both anticipated this meeting. It is a small world after all.

        At one point, we were all singing and “Dancing Queen” came up. I announced to everyone, in between sips of beer, that it is my song. No one, except for her, volunteered to sing it. And I danced to it. I know, she wasn’t doing it for me…she was just having fun singing. I wasn’t doing it for her either. Dancing Queen is my anthem, I will heed its call anytime. I am a Dancing Queen --which I know she isn’t! I must say though, even if she doesn’t sing as good as Cristina Aguilera I definitely pale in comparison. I should give it to her. (uhrm…)

         Two concerned guys asked me if it was okay that she was at the party. And because I wanted to prove unfazed by the situation, I confidently said “No worries, you're asking me now when I finally proved to myself with my very own eyes that I’m really a lot more beautiful than her?”  My husband always said too that I’m 100 times nicer.  Better inside and out.  But I kept that part to myself.  Good thing.  I should have kept my mouth shut to begin with. I really wanted to kick myself for not screening my words. I hate it. I just put myself down. I was embarassed with what I said even if it was supposed to be a self-appreciating joke directed to two carefree guys. I stooped too low. It was definitely a self-defense done in poor taste. Look who's ugly now???

         How can I be so proud? How can I make fun of being prettier than someone else, even just as a joke, or to casually prove a petty point…when we all know too well that beauty is only skin deep.  What matters is what lies beneath. What is important is who the person is inside. As the days go by since that meeting, there is a ball of guilt that keeps on swelling in my heart about having said it. She didn’t do anything bad to me anyway. And even if my husband and a lot of other people who both know us tell me I’m a lot nicer, observing her…I saw that she couldn’t possibly be too far behind. I know for sure she is a great friend to her friends. She's probably great with the kids in the facility she works for. Maybe. It takes one to know one.

         I don't want to hurt people. I should take care of this inner beauty. It is what is important. It is what is worth preserving. It is what is worth being proud of.

         When the party was over, she said goodbye and if smiles were worth ten seconds to a dollar, she flashed me a 10 cents worth.  Good enough.  Then I said “Goodbye, drive safe”.  Did I mean it? YES.

Excuse #542

I’m about as sought-after in the softball field as a tall glass of ice cold Coke on a hot summer day (doused with two tablespoons of mashed-almost-liquefied lamb pancreas, 1 1/2 shots of Parigoric and topped with a generous sprinkle of Borax and 3 pieces of Mentos--ground). I had the privilege to play with my hubby’s co-ed softball team last summer on Tuesdays when their team is short. Me, whose skill is confined to a batting average of 100% -- in hitting flying invisible balls. The only thing I can recall now is how I dragged the team to a few pathetic losses (“You’re already out, Clarisse, you can let go of the bat now…easy..easy…”), because toward the end of the season hubby started coming up with 1001 Time-to-Spare-My-Spouse-(and-me)-from-Embarassment Creatively-simulated Realistic Excuses. One time, his friend J asked, “Do you want to play with us next Tuesday, Clarisse?” and as soon as he overheard this, hubby ran toward us like a victim of an uncontrollable downhill-rolling shopping cart, thereby butting in before I could exercise my freedom of speech, “Her Carpal Tunnel has been acting up and I don’t want her hurting herself any further.”  There goes my softball career.

Fast forward to a year later. Last Tuesday, I was sitting on a bleacher after hubby’s softball game when I overheard the boys talking about the upcoming co-ed league. J (as if he never learned) blurted out, “You're playing with us on co-ed tuesdays, Clarisse!” giving me that “You better do” stare. Or maybe he was just trying to vie for an Oscar – the Most Polite Script Ever Delivered to a Teammate-slash-Friend’s Wife in a sports film Award. Hubby quickly said to me in a loud and thunderous voice audible to anyone within 20,000 miles, “But you’re dancing at the Aloha Festival in SF, you’ve got other shows lined up for the summer, and your classes…your practices fall on the same day!” He even muttered vaguely about a hula competition that hawaiians probably haven't even thought of (LIAR!).  I don’t know if he’s just really being proud of me, OR he is trying to pull off Excuse # 542 of the 1001 Time-to-Spare-My-Spouse-(and-me)-from-Embarassment Creatively-simulated Realistic Excuses. Because I’m pretty sure that if that one didn’t work, he will plot to make my lactose intolerance act up by putting powdered milk in my multi-vitamin pills on Tuesday mornings. Pretty soon, he will be traveling into the future, inventing excuses for sports-related proposals I haven’t even received yet.

I rest my case. I’ll be dancing my way all summer then. I’m about as sought-after in a hula show as gobs of hot white rice anyway.  Plain, but edible at least.

Whew!

Obviously, I am floating merrily at a lucid interval these days. Not exactly bouncing off the walls, but still oooh-ing and yeah-ing at being able to outdo myself in some demands of everyday living, that being a small issue in my daily hum as a workin’ wifey---sans little rascals to contend with at that!

So what’s up with us these days? We’re trying to put an offer for a condo/townhome! TRYING…It’s really a leap of faith for us. We’ve been waiting for Daisy for soooo long (Daisy- that foreclosed house on the next corner from where we live, which I drive by EVERY afternoon after work to make sure no one has bought her yet --apparently, the bank has yet to quote a price-- I named her Daisy the day I found myself talking to it *really* –which I still do everyday…*insane*). Well, we found this small fully-fixed-ditch-the-sweat awesome townhome in Bayfarm…let’s call her Frankie (http://www.pacunion.com/40343677). She’s got more pizzazz than old approachable and conservative Daisy. And like any well-dressed woman on Manolo Blahniks (I can’t believe I’m riding the SATC hype), she will potentially rip us off. But it might be worth it over the long haul. May the best girl win! This house-hunting is truly exhilarating but it does shove us into a state of desperation at times. I do see a light at the end of a tunnel. Do you see that flicker? Over there! Oberder!!!

I’m still having a love affair with the crockpot. And my hubby was cleanin’ scrapin’ and washin’ until his grill went a-shinin’ last weekend. He made grilled steak for supper last Sunday. We’re still gastronomic slaves and we’re liking it!

We’re quite done with long-overdue spring cleaning in “our little studio” (LOL). Quite. Mess throws my mind off-kilter most of the time that I always have to battle a strong urge to retreat to one corner of the room rocking back and forth as overwhelming disorganization abounds. Really. But we’re finally getting ahead, with a better schedule and a slower-paced social life. We’re still working on it. You see, I’m a big fan of flickers at the end of the tunnel (think positive!)…and now a big fan of humongous (and duly-labeled neurotically color-coded) plastic storage bins.

Work. It’s been slow and the economy is going nowhere but plummet south. There’s a soft buzz about shifting into more economical “4/10s” (4 ten-hr days). 3-day weekends forever and ever! Just the mere thought of it already sends me astral-traveling to the mall, the gymn, to Joey (our little bedroom studio--I like giving names now hahaha) to do my sketches and wire craft, and all the way to Hogwarts—that last unread Harry Potter book that’s probably bored-to-death-it-wants-to-set-itself-on-fire on my shelf by now, among others. Or sleeping in on Friday mornings! What joy! Maybe I can find a part-time job on Fridays too! I’m thinking too far. 4/10s will work for me if it happens. As long as everyone’s happy. Well, they gave me this huge box (it was on top of my desk I thought hubby shipped me a present or something--- nice try) of my own personalized business cards last week. I’m casting a good spell on that.

I haven’t bought a single thing for our implement dance in hula class. Not even an ii! I guess I’ll be dancing with imaginary ones again tonight and hope I don’t get penalized for it. I’m pretty good at this pretend stuff anyway *jk*. Imaginary friends like Daisy and Frankie. And dear ol’ Joey.

Frozen

         So I’m really back in the swing of things. I don’t know why I should even make a big deal out of this; I was not gone for eons! But I’m psychotic. LOL. Anyway, last night was hula night. I finally made it. I missed it for two weeks since I got here because the first week: I was sick (real sick) and the second week: I was lazy (a different kind of sick). My middle has gotten so thick (read: fat) that I wasn’t sure if I was fit enough to kaholo. Excuses…

          So I finally dragged myself to the studio last night. I was being a little depressive anyway; I did need a dose of endorphins. It didn’t take long for me to catch up. They did a show while I was gone anyway, so I didn’t miss much…just rehearsals and not a lot of new dances. But they were already starting on the “implement” dance and the other wahines already have their implements and I don’t. I had to dance holding imaginary implements. It’s funny. I felt like a little kid whose parents forgot to send her favorite toy for Show and Tell. Well, in this area, I am my own parent now. I’ll be ordering those a little at a time. Boy, they are expensive! http://www.alohahulasupply.com

         Speaking of parents, I’ve been thinking about them too much lately. I guess that’s why I have been feeling very low. I got married and moved here. The second one followed suit. And now that my youngest sister’s wedding is over, she’s moving with her hubby to his job assignment abroad as well. Reality sets in. My mom had been crying to me (one time saying “wawa mommy, wawa daddy”. My dad, well, he tries to heal his sadness by doing creative things…but I bet he’s lonely just as much. There’s no denying that it seems like we have deserted them one at a time although we never really intended to. I didn’t really intend to. Why would I? But life simply unfolded on its own, a big part of it not being a product of choice. But still, we could have changed some major choices. I could have chosen to stay back home. (But that would have meant turning my back on Aldred---how’s that???). I wish I knew that my other sisters won’t be able to stay eventually. But that’s too selfish of me for thinking they would stay. They have their own love, happiness, dreams and life to pursue. Just like me.

         I’ve been mulling over this since I got back from Philippines. My parents are still strong, but not without challenges to health here and there. Eventually, they will grow older. They will need us more and more --- running the household, maintaining the house(s), going with them on medical check-ups, running errands or just being there to talk to at the end of the day, walking with them and making sure they are alright. But who will be there? In my heart, I really can’t close my eyes to their every emotional and physical need. I can’t shut the door to every knock. But I also can’t travel at every whim. Last night, Aldred brought home my favorite burrito for dinner because it was my hula night. It reminded me how simple but very happy we are. Very happy. But somehow, my happiness doesn’t sit well in the same scheme where my parents aren’t happy. I’m so torn I think I’ll go crazy sometimes. Other people seem to find it easy, perhaps they don’t have as much great family memories to keep. But I can’t judge. Perhaps, they have other reasons.  Financially too, our family is quite comfortable and with a relatively good chance to survive despite a dwindling economy (hopefully) so we were not raised nor groomed to seek greener pastures elsewhere that required air or sea transport as soon as we were launched into the professional arena.  Dynamics-wise, our family isn’t perfect and not without flaw like the occasional psychological games some TV soaps are made of. BUT compared to other units, ours is definitely close to ideal in the happiness spectrum. We’re so way up there, I know it. How could one walk away?

        So maybe, it’s really just about squashing down other feelings in favor of some as one grows older. Still, it doesn’t sit right. I’ve been praying so hard about this. The Bible teaches that marriage is an intimate union. "For this reason a man will leave his father and mother and be joined to his wife and the two will become one flesh" (Mark 10:7-8) . When you marry, you leave your parents and bond with your spouse. A totally new, intimate union is formed; this union between one man and one woman is meant to last a lifetime. Yesterday, a line in 90210 (yes, the Beverly Hills series!) struck me so timely. Donna’s father said “You’re old enough to stop worrying about your mother and start thinking about your own life”. Is that God responding to my incessant cries? It makes healthy sense. But I guess, in my culture, it still doesn’t fully absolve me. My mom stayed and took care of my grandmother. She was hoping one of us can follow suit. But with the direction my choices have gone, it doesn’t seem to be in the picture just yet. But who knows. I wish I can take care of them. I envy those who are blessed with this opportunity. It could be a struggle I know but it's a blessing nonetheless. No, my parents are NOT demanding from us. In fact, my parents have selflessly let us go…despite their sorrow and feelings of insecurity in their hearts about their own future. With our visits, I hope they see it more as a glass half-full, not half-empty. But then again, that’s a lame way to forcefully adjust their perspective at this point.

        I have great dreams about my own family now. I can’t wait to buy our own place, and we’re getting closer and closer to that dream. I can’t wait to have babies. I can’t wait to travel more. I can’t wait to achieve other promising things with my hubby in the future. I can’t wait, yet in the same breath, I want to freeze time. I wish I can freeze time so my parents will stay young, able and strong forever. If I can keep this scenario at status quo: me being here, them being there, phone calls and some visits to suffice, that would be perfect. But not possible. Am I selfish? What am I so worried about? Am I worried about my parents or am I worried about me? About making eventual sacrifices or going through painful emotional processes here and there. Or maybe I’m worried about them going through those? Or am I just being consumed by guilt and/or succumbing to a guilt trip? Am I trying to carry too much imaginary load on my shoulders again? Maybe I should try to trust my parents more about having the ability and wisdom to transcend through this stage? Am I forgetting to let God direct my movie? Maybe all of the above? This love is so positive yet convoluted. I wish I knew the answers or at least how to numb their feelings and/or my feelings about eventual answers. All I know is, I wish I can be there for them. And I wish I can be here with my husband. I like my life here too. My independence, my freedom, the way of life. I love it. I wish I can be at two places at one time. Help me, I am not a bad child. And I’m trying to be the best wife (and mom) there is. But I’ll be there when and where I’m needed. Promise.

          Lord, I'm lifting up this blog to you. Please direct my movie. But if I can request one thing for the mean time, please let it be a fantasy movie...where I wear a hula skirt that transports me to two places at one time and a tiare on my right ear that gives me the superpowers to freeze time...for a loooooong time.

Purpose

Do you have reasons why you choose certain things over others? I am sometimes biased against people who MUST always have a rationale behind choosing something. I know someone who would always choose to back up to a parking space so the front of his vehicle would point outward, that way “I can drive away real quick in times of emergency”. COOL but UNCOOL. Or “eat a lot of tomatoes, it has Lycopene in it”. I find that too square for me.

I’m usually not picky. To me, I would use tomatoes on my dishes if need be. But I won’t let it rule my life. I usually would let things happen when they happen. I would use things depending on accessibility. Simple. Recently though, I’ve been going gaga over some new stuff! It might be passé for other people…but I just can’t hold it to myself when I get excited! It must be rooting from a fantasy to have my own magazine (okay, what am I up to this time???), I’ve been meaning to write about “PRODUCT PICKS OF THE MONTH” or something in that league. I thought about that (light bulb above my head!) when I first tried the Cholula Hot Sauce. But then again, that’s considered passé since I have been pouring it over my eggs, hashbrowns, pasta, ground meat and anything you can imagine for about a year now. It started when this really nice Mexican server who always had a smile pasted on her face recommended it to me at Tilly’s Diner after I asked for Green Tabasco. I’ve been hooked ever since.

So, I am evolving (we are always evolving, I’m just a little bit on this obvious point right now).  Here are some really good findings I wish to share:

1. The Joys of Crock-Pot cooking. Okay, where have I been? It’s only now that I really truly discovered the joy of slow-cooker cooking..uhrm…slow-cooking.  I would toss all the ingredients into the pot/set it on low for about 8-9.5 hours before taking off for work, and I’d come home to the aroma of a hot and delicious home cooked meal. That gives me at least one or two more free hours after work to do other things instead of devoting it for preparing supper. Two hours are precious if you are a working wifey! What joy! I checked the energy consumption too. (OFCOURSE).  I gathered, based on Typical Appliance Energy Use and Costs, a crockpot uses about 100 Watts while a large electric range uses 2400 Watts. Let’s take a closer look at the formula for average costing:  Watts/1000 x hours = Kilowatt-hours (kWh) x rate = cost.  Ergo, even if a crockpot operates for a longer period of time, it still comes to a smaller figure than a range would in terms of Kilowatt-hours before computing the cost. Lovely!

2. Cross-action Pro-Health Oral-B. Yeah, it sounds more like a new model of Nike running shoes than a toothbrush. I never paid close attention to what kind of toothbrush I use.  But this one, which hubby and I picked at Target hurriedly because we misplaced our toothbrushes after our vacation to the Philippines, just about slapped me on the face, shaking me to reality with the gift of painful guilt over the realization that I have been maltreating my teeth for the past 30some years. For the first time in my whole life, I feel like wanting to keep brushing my teeth over and over simply because it leaves me feeling good each time (uh-oh…compulsion).  Just kidding!  But it sure suggests what it feels like to be a kid discovering the joy of toothbrushing for the first time, with a mickey mouse toothbrush in hand slathered with red-and-white-striped strawberry-flavored toothpaste. I’m not a dentist, but do check it out: http://oralb.com/us/products/manual/crossaction/. Why just brush your teeth when you can clean your whole mouth? It provides 7 oral care benefits to help you achieve a cleaner, healthier mouth. They have to pay me for this.

3. A HUGE personal water jug at work. I just got this yesterday, after a Kidney-ailment-scare at Kaiser last saturday. Apparently, I have not been “watering” myself  enough lately.  Looking back, I think I guzzle only…let’s see: 1 mug of morning coffee, I mug of water for lunch, half a mug of water on my afternoon break, 1 glass of water at dinner, half a glass of water on my bedside to tide me over during the night on dry throat moments. Bad girl. If I was a plant that depended largely on 8 glasses of water a day, I would have transformed into natural fertilizer a long time ago. So I guess this is an experimental solution to my dehydration malady and hefty water quota. I'm so relieved I don't need to stay away from salt just yet. It is a 64oz jug with water level indicators.  It even has a straw and a big handle for convenience. Just remind me not to chew on the straw because it’s just washable, not disposable. It’s cute too! Anyway, check out your IWI (Ideal Water Intake) here: http://wellnessndiet.com/calculators_iwi.php.

Perhaps, I should start making a living by endorsing products. HAHAHA. Or rather, I should start putting more “purpose” into my actions.