For an Idol

Fairly recently, I got bored and dipped the other end of my pen on my leftover coffee and drew some lines on scratch paper.

That was one of those face-flushing, blood-rushing, heart-thumping, lightbulb aka EUREKA! moments for me. I brought my paintbrushes to work the next day and started painting with coffee on the  5x7 sketchbook I have on my work desk. Sketchbooks are part of my First Aid kits!  But then some brushstrokes bled on the paper and I wasn't sure what to do. The aroma was also overpowering-- I didn't say bad! So I wondered, will the artworks last?

I researched online for the best watercolor paper and fixatives, keyed in COFFEE PAINTING FIXATIVE and found several helpful tips. Apparently, I wasn't the first one who thought of using coffee as a medium.  There are quite a lot of professional artists with websites featuring their coffee painting!

I was overjoyed eventually though because I stumbled into SUNSHINE PLATA and what do you know, she's FILIPINO, a true-blooded kababayan! I just wanted to go down on my knees in worship. So there, that's the birth of my new idol, and my new joy that is painting with coffee. Please check out her website Kapeng Mahiwaga ng Isang Diwata. Truly awesome and wondrous works!!!  I'll start featuring her paintings here but I still need to let her know. I sent her some messages on her website and she's so far paid two friendly visits in my Coffee, anyone? website and left messages too (I'm floored!!!) Just dig in my tagboard.

I've been vascillating if I should start posting my works. I didn't feel quite ready yet but here's a phonecam pic of the very first one I made because Sunshine wanted to see it!

Here's my first:  



It has dots of ground coffee that I couldn't get rid of. The paper's also a bit warped, I must have gotten it too wet. And the brushtrokes bled into the paper.  It also still smells like coffee (must be good to lick on caffeine-desperate days). But it's made with love, so to me it's beautiful.

I have an inspiration in this craft now. Hopefully one day, I can inspire other budding artists too.

Ideas, anyone?

The year flew by me like an F-16 breaking the sound barrier and I felt the sonic boom today! Well, Halloween is just around the corner and I'm stressed out because I haven't gotten my ideas together for the Pumpkin Carving Competition at hubby's workplace, which I won last year. That was simple and easy, almost elementary. But that sparked everyone's desire to win this year and so I'm pretty sure standards are raised several notches up. I wonder what other contestants will come up with. I still don't know what to create and I want to uphold hubby's reputation and pride. Plus, I was able to buy a really reliable pair of black BCBG high heels at Nordstrom with my prize last year that another one this year will surely be most welcome! I'm also trying to brainstorm on my costume at work. We always dress up (the works) at work. Last year, I was a confused daemonette who could have easily passed for one of The Incredibles.

 Yaaakkkkkk!

This year, my cousin suggested that I come in PJs, bunny slippers, old woman eyeglasses, big hair rollers, a roll of newspaper, and white powder on my face. It sounds appealing but I wasn't sure if I can pull that off knowing that I have to walk through the front door and past managers' cubicles. And what if I simply get so mixed up with the dates that I come to work dressed up too soon --I always have that horrific notion in my head!

Anyway, I need ideas, ideas, ideas. Especially for the pumpkin carving contest!  HELP!

I'm thinking of drilling thunderbolts over the Golden Gate bridge with my hubby's dremel tool.



I think it's too ambitious. But I'll see what I can do.

Usually, it helps to pretend in our minds that we can do difficult things. I usually do. Most of the time, we end up actually accomplishing them and thinking, "Wow, I FAKED it!". But then later on we'll realize that we're able to do the task anyway...so what's the difference?

Wifeyteria Chronicles: Party's over...let's dance!

The baby shower was a huge success!

There was a lot of cooking and and prep time involved on Friday night and Saturday morning. My sister and two cousins slept over to get the place and our props ready and we stayed up until 4am! A tough feat to do since the baby shower was set at 11:30am Saturday. Our work slowed down because we also had a movie marathon going: Back-to-back Tagalog love story-comedies! I can get used to that...John Lloyd and Sarah Geronimo, I mean. I can't remember the title but it was so cute. So cute we all started trying to do the "sundance" from the movie. It wasn't even tacky at all! It's so  hilarious, refreshing and funny. It simply takes the stress out of you. Hubby watched it 5 times already, even more than I did.

Saturday morning, it was a mad house trying to finish all the cooking before the guests arrived. My cousins and my sister weren't even dressed up when the first one came (BECAUSE they woke up late!). All the games were fun too.  These are the big hits: Pin the Pacifier (like Pin the tail of the Donkey); Pass the Soiled Diaper Around (I poured coffee and some melted chocolate on it) where the the person holding the diaper when the music stops will be out; Guess the size of the tummy (we used TPs).

We had a lot of guests and we were just worried about the new carpet, especially since we had a chocolate fountain going!!! But at the time of the party, we thought it was better to have a warm and festive place, than a cold and restrained one. So who cares? But Hubby and I were so beat last Sunday cleaning up and trying to switch back the ambience of our home into its brand new status. It wasn't that hard, just a little bit of putting things back into place, vacuuming, and counting cutlery and silverware (I'm very anal when it comes to that) .

We realized that eversince we moved to the new house, we've been spending weekends throwing small parties and miles and miles of entertaining. Hubby already has two projects in mind. These are: putting concrete on our patio (I prefer terra cotta tiles), and secondly, switching the living area downstairs into hardwood floors. Since that entails money, we need to hold our horses for a bit.  Meanwhile, we'll beat the bleep out of our lawn and carpets.

Our house, china and silverware are back to being immaculate and squeaky clean now, except for the refrigerator. It's bursting to the seams with leftovers, like this pan of hardened chocolate from the chocolate fountain. But I'm happy because I have enough food to feed hubby and I need not cook this whole week.

That will give me more free time to perfect my sundance.

Klutz Factor

The "klutz" factor runs in my family.

You won't be able to imagine how much time, money and emotions we've spent on appliance replacements, furniture repairs especially back in the Philippines where warranties don't pour as easy as here in the USA. Especially the girls in the family, we're all Calamity Janes reincarnated. Cute clumsy girls out there to rock your world, literally.

I remember my cousin, Dr. R.  She's a doctor now...very smart, very simple, yet very destructive too.  She once blew up an aunt's brand new "imported" stereo by plugging it directly to 220v on that same day the stereo arrived and the aunt needed her help to set it up. I also blew up our first IBM PC (back in those days when screens were still monochrome green). I don't know how I did it, I just did. It started smokin' and smellin' like burnt rubber and suddenly it went kaput on my project. A few years back, I accidentally knocked over a glass of iced tea on my co-workers freshly printed marketing proposal on the last minute that it was supposed to be submitted (*sorry, Rufo, I really didn't mean it*)  My sister T, she was looking at my new tiny Mini Cooper Model (a gift from hubby), tried to open its tiny trunk and doors and tried to wiggle the side mirror and it broke on her, just like that. My mom, she slammed the car door shut upon getting out without thinking that I was following her with my right leg already halfway out. That left me looking all bruised up and bumpy as if I went through some hard sorority hazing (can you imagine that and gymn shorts for PE at the university?) My other sister, the lawyer (usually smart a$$ but nice and sweet), just tripped on her OWN FOOT at the BART station in San Francisco last month, falling face down flat on the ground and leaving the korean lady behind her in a state of shock (how on earth did she do that?) Well, we all would trip on cables while walking, knock down things and appliances and eventually, we got used to it and didn't care anymore, muttering..."there it goes..."

The last casualty in my family is a brand new laptop that my parents bought so they could start emailing and chatting with us. Just when they are finally getting over their fear of computers (fear of the unknown actually since they never dabbled on it faithfully), my mom was ultra-careful one late night to pack up and she forced it shut, not realizing that there was a small bunch of cables sandwiched inside. She forced it shut anyway and ended up with a cracked up screen.  The only thing you can get out of it now is a flickering faint blue light on the display when you boot it up.

Other things in our RIP list (expired before they got outdated):

- 1 Betamax unit

- 3 Sony Handycams (back in the day)

- 4 film cameras

- 2 digital cameras

- 2 cellphones

- 1 electric fan

- the neighbor's dog (courtesy of an uncle in a 10mph street)

Some of these darlings are supposed to be foolproof these days. I guess they need to start including the "klutz" factor in the quality control department. Hubby buys the warranties for things he buys me now sans second thoughts. He calls me his Conan (the Destroyer). Trust me, the knack to find creative ways of destroying something is in our genes. It's innate. You know how we always say complicated people should come with a manual? He always says I should come with a Danger Sign sticker on my forehead.

My Daughter and I

My stepdaughter came up here for a short visit last weekend.  We flew her in so she could help warm up our new house and feel like she's part of this new home even if she's mostly away at her mom and stepdad's down south.

Hubby was young when they had her and after that, both of them moved on and eventually got married BUT not to each other. But it's not my story to go through details about. The nice part that I want to make a note of, I guess, is that at this very moment we all feel so blessed. My stepdaughter's mom is one of the first real people that I got acquainted to when I first moved here. We'd hang out everytime we come and visit down south or attend school affairs together, or when the whole family comes up north to visit common friends. It's not just a civil relationship, in fact, it's way deeper than that. I know it's strange, but that family is actually in my favorite people list. I'm blessed because they have been real nice to me as much as I've been nice to them, without sugar-coating  unpleasant things needing disclosure to each other too when it's necessary of course, and thus, there is no thread of fakeness in this web that we all belong to. It's all good.

Hubby also keeps saying he's blessed because her mom and I get along. I think we're friends! She and I were just talking last month about how blessed we are that our husbands love us (we were talking about weight gain). Her mom is blessed because I'm not a wicked stepmother. I'm blessed too because she's a good person and doesn't give me a headache. She's a good mom and ergo, She is a good daughter. I'm blessed that she's a very good stepdaughter. She's a good student, with straight As most of the time, she's into dancing just like me, a little sensitive sometimes but always fun to be with. She never built a fence around her from the very start and opened herself up to me as if I had been there for her since birth. I must admit that it was a little awkward at first but she broke the ice by calling me "Mom" when all we were hoping for was "Mommy C" at least. So who am I to build a fence around me? Why would I pay good with bad? I still have a lot to learn about being a "mom" but I'm trying and giving my best. I guess, with that, She's also blessed. One time, she sent hubby and I a text message saying how happy she is that she has all the four of us in her life. Loving parents and double the treat! I'm glad she sees it as that. Other kids go astray with the same situation.

Last Saturday, she and I were up surfing online and talking before she slept in the same bed with us at 2am. (maybe she's not used to her new room in the new house but I think it's something more special than that) She's now slowly dipping her toes in the puddle of career options and other educational programs (nursing? or medical/technical or the arts? education?) She's turning 16 this year and college will be just around the corner. It's as scary and uncertain for us parents as it is to her. We hope to be able to give the best we can within our resources. We're saving up and asking around about grants, scholarships and other financial assistance every student needs here in the US. Last Saturday, she had a lot of questions but hubby was sound asleep and I was the only parent around. She had a lot of questions about this college board website, what sort of programs she can get into to get the job she wants, most of which I couldn't answer fully because I'm not yet familiar with the information I needed as a parent of a near-college student here in America (If it was the Philippines, no problem!) I haven't even raised a preschooler yet! But she thought I was a lot of help with the little info I gave.

If I want to be a real mom-mom, I have a lot of homework to do. And I'll do it because I'm blessed. And I want to keep everyone else blessed too.

Wazzup Wazzup!

***I've been talking to my parents everyday. They seem to be very busy with their life, plus the spoiled dog (don't get me started on that 3rd birthday party...and how he gets served food in front of the TV, I'd better come back home and switch places with him, but well, I doubt if hubby will like that) My dad's going to undergo his external 15-minute radiation daily beginning today.  I wish I was there although they seem to be fine, or at least trying to be. They've been going to shows and musicals lately. They're going to watch Paul Potts in concert too.  I can't believe they're seeing him before I do! But that's one reason for everyone to be happy.

***We've been doing miles and miles of entertaining in our new home. The house seems to have lost it's "new house" smell already. Is it just me or what? Or is it the colossal garlicky whiff of adobo clinging for dear life to the new carpet? We're hosting a baby shower for my cousin this Saturday!!! I'm very excited. Rattles, bottles, diapers and pins...this is where the fun begins!

*** My Citrofortunella microcarpa aka Calamansi tree is bearing fruits! And oh did you know (I didn't know) that you can freeze the juice in ice cube trays and dunk the juice cubes in half a glass of water for instant lemonade anytime?

*** I had experienced some slight "frustrations" --to be gentle about it -- over a bunch of people lately...but then I realized that it's not the kind of stress that should be sitting on my shoulders. For a while there, I think they were barking at THE WRONG TREE aka "moi ". Sometimes the messenger indeed takes the bullet. But I will never allow bullets to pierce through my ballistic vest! No wonder I've been having nightmares about vultures lurking over a square-shaped carcass, with me turning into a raging pitbull on steroids (an endearment by hubby on days when hormones go haywire and decide to possess my usually calm spirit) and then handcuffing them all to drag to this TV show called Judge Hatchett , the lady with the glossy burgundy lipstick who is fearless in putting someone to his place. So yeah, I'm done with it as far as I'm concerned. I'm hoping for the best. Who doesn't want to have peace and love to reside in his heart? I still trust that people will stand up for this.

*** Lastly,  in view of recent disputes involving possibly "puzzled" individuals, I adopted this old and popular mantra for my personal depository of mantras (yes, there's such a thing)-- it should be a lesson to everyone, yes, including THE WRONG TREE:

THE FOURWAY TEST (my special thanks to ROTARY)

1.     Is it the TRUTH?

2.     Is it FAIR to ALL concerned?

3.     Will it build GOODWILL and BETTER FRIENDSHIPS?

4.     Will it be BENEFICIAL to ALL concerned?

Forks

Driving home one time, hubby and I played the game of WHAT IFs involving our lives.

What if I didn't marry him and what if I was stuck with THAT JERK?  (long story...) and I don't want to talk about that part of my life ever again!!! If you pay me a million bucks, maybe I would. But I'll haggle for higher, throw in a collection of some expensive books I've been wanting to buy...Maybe I'll tell...I'm happy with the package I picked.

What if we didn't go out, who would we have hooked each other up with? We're crazy I know! But I did have someone in mind for him. And he didn't want any of his friends to have me! Is that good...or bad!?!

What if I finished my masteral thesis? or studied to be a nurse? I really want to be in the helping profession...I could have been earning more. I could have been a shrink by now, or a life coach, or a therapist, even a school counselor. But I could  have been spending less time with hubby too...and the other creative things I love doing. That's unimaginable. But I guess it takes only a little of getting used to. But still. I'm a wife with an 8-5 job and it works fine. I'm fine.

What if he didn't become a tech at BMW? -- a greasemonkey so he says, but affords me occasional days of splurging in my favorite shops! This one's a shocking revelation! He would have been a chef! He wanted to study culinary arts and is still thinking that we may one day enroll in classes as husband and wife at a good culinary school in the city.

What if I didn't leave my parents behind in the Philippines? The answer is simple, I would have been there to be with them during doctor's visits. I would have been there when they needed me. But how about this life with hubby...last night we took a 2-mile walk at the San Francisco Bay Trail, watched the sunset by the ocean, with patches of marshlands, reserves and santuaries behind us, a stone's throw away from our new home as we talked about our life and our own future. *sigh*

What if we didn't lose our baby in November 2006? What if he lived? We could have been happy and doting parents by now. I wouldn't have been a little distant around kids right now.  I would have still been so fond, the-once-preschool-teacher-rolling-on-the-ground-making-stupid-faces-and-noises kind of fond of little kids at family parties. Now I'm a little reserved and choose to mingle only with adults and teens. The scar is still there, it still throbs sometimes. I'm still working on it. Maybe next year. I'll be ready to face this baby issue and work on having one! *LOL* I'm scared, yet I don't want to break hubby's heart. Maybe next year...

We are a product of our choices, or random events that uproots us from where we are and throws us into one of the many paths when the road of our life forks. But yes, we are still a product of our choices, even how we react to these random events, or how we feel. What is certain is that benefits are born with consequences, and that advantages and trade-offs may come together. We just need to learn how to balance them, and live the life story we choose to write for ourselves with as little regret as possible.

We want to make sure to always seek God's Guidance and try our best to make the right choices, every corner, every fork; Most of all, be grateful to God for the benefits that come with our decisions and lovingly embrace the consequences along the way.

Wifeyteria Chronicles: On the (W)edge of Entertaining

My apologies for not having shared any profound nor helpful thoughts lately! My head is still sunken deep into this house-decorating madness hole. I feel like my spirit has gone into deep slumber.  Of late, it is still floating blissfully in a state of quiescence while my gregarious side is preoccupied channeling HGTV's David Bromstad and/or The Barefoot Contessa.

Lo and behold, my hubby is turning into an interior decorator himself, although his inputs radiate a little college-dormy feel...hmmm...okay, A for "A"ffort.  I can't wait to go ahead and tackle our patio project (the patio set, the firepit, some tiki torches and wrought-iron tea light holders on the fences, some reggae, a lot of dancing and the 3 M's of my dark side: Margarita, Mojitos, Mimosa (no other M's alright!)...I'm gushing again. We haven't even gotten fully organized indoors yet.  I just ordered some tiles with distressed prints of old Tuscan Wine labels. Hopefully their look and quality are as good as they seem on my computer screen.  Sometimes though, just like people, photos or first impressions can be deceiving.  Well, there's only one way to find out. I'll keep you posted on this one. I really fell in love with these!



 

We've been having so many guests lately (family and friends in batches) and my kitchen and hubby's new grill have been smokin' with great flavors lately.  One thing that I learned from an aunt regarding entertaining is, to have a repertoire of easy but delightful and seemingly fancy dishes that you do best and just keep serving it over and over again to different AND UNRELATED groups of people. 

Because of our flurry of activities lately, I needed some real easy foolproof components that I can buy in bulk and that's kind to the pocket too.  Here's one as suggested by my cousin and courtesy of Paula Deen's Home Cooking:

THE WEDGE SALAD

1 head iceberg lettuce, cut into quarters
Blue cheese dressing
1 tomato, minced
2 green onions, chopped
1/2 cup crumbled blue cheese
1 cup cooked bacon, crumbled


On each salad plate, place 1 wedge of lettuce turned on its side. Pour blue cheese dressing on wedge. Sprinkle with tomatoes, green onions, crumbled blue cheese, and crumbled bacon.

 

Such a breeze!! It's having it's fourth reprise co-starring with hubby's smoked tri-tip this weekend.  I'll just change the repertoire as soon as the dust settles and my head clears. Good thing we never get sick of it!

 

All is Well

It's Friday! It's been a week since we moved and we're still living off moving boxes. Our main priority was to get the high guest traffic spots organized like the living room and dining areas ...I know! I'm, slacking. But since we did the majority of the work on our own, I'm so beat. I miss it back home (Philippines) when you get a horde of people (including paid hands) to lift stuff at your beck and call. Hubby and I scrimped on the movers so we only had two hands each to move stuff for us. The left and the right.  Some family and relatives came in trickles, so that was a lot of relief for us. So lesson #1- don't be deceived by a small studio a.k.a. "The Box". It's like Mary Poppin's magical bottomless carpet bag. I'm ready to crash this weekend.

I barely spoke to my folks this week. And I feel really bad since I know that one of the highlights of their day (amidst social obligations, oh, my mom's church and charity stuff, my dad's uhm...what has he been up to lately?-- and I want to kick myself for not knowing) is to hear from me or my two sisters.  I'm looking forward to having them come and visit me this time. The idea of living with me or anyone of us siblings still hasn't sold to them, perhaps it never will, knowing how they want to keep the way of life that they're used to rather firm, constant and unalterable.  I guess it just makes sense. Who wants to uproot two great people in the late sixties and early seventies from where they are if the situation works for them? But they are our parents and one day, they will be too old and weak to nurture and take care of us whenever we come running.  One day, they will be too old and weak to take care of themselves! The time will come when we should be overseeing their own needs as children. That's usually one of any parents' major qualms about their future. We would want to be there for them when that day comes and hopefully equal what they have given if not exceed it. (I want to be able to afford it too!) I'm trying to get all geared up and ready when that role-reversal (which is always bound to occur at one point in the cycle of human development vis-a-vis family dynamics) happens -- rather protracted in my family, we're still THE Kids on the third decade of our lives!

Mom's over with her minor surgery (for a localized recurrence), and dad's Brachytherapy is done with.  They are going to arrange for his external radiation soon. It breaks my heart to know that they are on their own, shuttling from one oncologist to another. (Oh by the way, did you notice the pink and blue ribbons on my header? Let's fight these bad guys in a prayer battle!) Both of the prognosis seem promising so I'm praying and holding on to that.  So I guess all is well for now. The current task is to try to keep this phase in status quo. Or pray that it does.

They are scheduled to fly to Australia for a wedding in November (good for them because they haven't visited it and I heard Australia's  really gorgeous too).  Then hopefully, they will be going on a pilgrimage somewhere in Europe in April next year, and then California to visit me and my other sister. There's a lot of international flights involved in the next couple of years for them. I hope that ditches and loses the bad things along the way...like those stupid malignant neoplasms that have no business proliferating in good people's bodies.



 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

PS.

In Dad's words:

"Look, anak (child), at the wheel of life.  You got lucky with a good deal for your new house, but then I got sick.  It's just an up and down ride as the wheel turns.  Sadyang ganun (that's really how it is).  It gets balanced out for us.  It's really not perfect. We can't expect things to be perfect all the time, sometimes there are trade-offs.  But it doesn't mean that life can't be beautiful.  Once we realize this, we won't get too depressed when we hit the lows, we only look forward to the next trip up."



 

 

Wifeyteria Chronicles: Citrofortunella microcarpa in my yard!

Calamondin (kăl'ə-mŏn'dĭn). Panama orange? Acid orange? Others call it suter. I call it "pizzazz" for my authentic filipino- stye beefsteak a.k.a. "Bistek" and pancit noodles. Woohoo! It's none other than the little sour calamansi fruits-- which unfortunately isn't that popular here in the U.S. Using lemon in lieu of these  green little round guys on the mouthwatering delicacies of Filipino exotic (exotic!) cuisine is a sacrilege, at least that's how I see it. A spritz of regular lemon on good old pancit palabok just doesn’t cut it!

And how about my dad's home-made mayonnaise recipe thats been handed down from my forebears? (3 egg yolks, 1 bottle of oil, calamansi, salt and lots of stirring --labor of love). Not good with lemon either! Or on my patis (fish sauce, yeah...yeah, fish sauce, I know...but I just love it). Not good with lemon either!

And so, as a housewarming present for myself, way before we picked any outdoor furniture for our backyard, I got me a Calamondin plant from Home Depot.  It was the last one in the store that day, the cart was with hubby on the other side and I was so excited that I scooped the heavy pot bearing the 2-ft plant and marched down the aisles almost hugging it in VERY greedy demeanor.  The pot now sits at a random spot on our yard for the mean time. They said I can keep it on the pot and use it as a home decor too, especially with those fruits and flowers! The tag says it can also be trained as a hedge shrub which is perfect for one corner of my yard beside some of my wrought-iron art pieces, a beautiful garden swing one day (you'd think it's me who wants the swing...nope, it's hubby!) and a patio set next to the fire pit (imaginary one for now)...I'm gushing. I'm not re-planting it yet though, because I still have to learn THAT skill or else it might end up joining the "souls" of the unfortunate foliage that passed on under the care (uncare) of my my non-green thumb hands, in all the places I've lived thus far.    

Anyway, I can't wait until next summer when I can sit out there, read a book and drink a tall glass of iced cold lemonade...er, uhrm, calamansi-ade. Or am I pushing it too much? It's really good. Trust me!

 

A Moment of Silence

I offer this moment of silence and empty space in memory of the innocent victims of the 9-11 tragedy.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Eternal rest grant unto them, oh Lord. And let perpetual light shine upon them. May their souls, and the souls of all the faithful departed, rest in peace. Amen.

Where the heck am I?

The old blogsites have been moved from the old host in view of "improvement" efforts, that's what Friendster says.  Oh well. I feel like Dorothy who have just landed in Oz. Or the other way around???

I'm not happy because I have to spend some time to make my site beautiful again, at least in my eyes. *SIGH* Please come back to my THOUGHTS AT 3AM  site once in a while okay? There's an abandoned little girl in there, wide-eyed and shivering. *SIGH AGAIN*

Some good things never last.

But let's start chasing the rainbows now.  À la prochaine, mon amie!

wuv,

90210 Fever

The new series started and I made sure we saw the premier episode (nothing much to say about it yet, it's too early to tell).  But hey, I'm still hooked on the reruns.  They ended but looped right to the very beginning! Yuh!!!

I should stop watching those reruns.  They are getting into my system, or shall I say, I am slowly creeping into the show! In my dreams.

A couple of months ago, I had a dream that I was talking to Kelly. Like she was confiding to me or something.

 

Then two nights ago, I had a very weird dream that I was hanging out with Dylan (and something else). I must say, a really strange and very WEIRD dream. 'Nuff said.



 

This is the portion where you laugh.

The other night at Walmart...

I usually check out the board by the entrance of Walmart to look at photos of missing kids. One girl caught my eye, the photo was a teen's self-protrait most likely taken from her MySpace profile (you know, that shot taken from a strange angle, a super-model pout and with one corner of the photo taken over by a glimpse of the outstretched hand that held the camera). It dawned on me (again) how far our picture-taking has evolved, including its uses.  I knew that one day, missing person's files won't just contain ID pictures or cut-outs from birthday party pictures!!! Now, if ever I go missing, please don't post my photo in that hula outfit even if I'm so darn proud of it!

Seriously, do you ever take a close look at photos of missing people?  Next time, can you please take some time to stare at their eyes, say a prayer and hope that one day you or someone else will find them and return them to their loved ones?

Uh-oh, Have I Just Sold My Soul?

        *This post is really not meant for this site, but I'm posting it anyway*

        It's been what...3 weeks? 4? since I became official with Payperpost and Blogsvertise. The only two income-generating seas I've so far waded in where blogging is concerned. There's still a huge chunk that doesn't fit snugly in my heart because I feel that I've sold some precious little pieces of myself. I'm just a bit apprehensive that those avid readers *yeah, wishful thinking* who have somehow followed my posts because they found themselves resonating to my thoughts, picking up something good if not learning a little lesson or two, will lose interest because of a slight change in flavor (or lack thereof).

         I have nothing against monetizing the blog, nor those who do it. In fact, I'm a puppy of the same litter and I'm so darn proud of it! In these times where the economy goes nowhere but plummet south and the power of money is shrinking to a nano-size particle, monetizing the blog is a really clean venue where one can earn extra with a little effort, especially for those who are inclined to write. My other feelings about this (the ones that aren't as pleasant) are purely personal though.  I just realized that the plant I'm growing is getting more and more different from the seed I have planted when I started to blog.  This "Coffee, Anyone?" is the product of a dream, born full of promises...both the good and the bad, the crazy and the sober, the fascinating and the mundane facets of my journey.  I am happy with the readership that has developed, it's not that many but quite an appreciative lot. That's something I didn't expect but I am so grateful for. After all, I'm an ardent crusader of the "Starfish Story" principle --- it doesn't matter if what I do can't change the whole world as long as it affects one tiny soul in a good way.  That's one of the life purposes I have been embracing for a long time now.

         I'm in a quandary because a little drop of buzzing or advertising seems to dilute this purpose. On second thought, won't they pass as part of it all, like additional spices in a stew that you are allowed to add but may also do without? I only write about those whose pieces fit into my current plot anyway, although I admit I'm forcing some in with a passion.  I don't know, maybe this is only an initial feeling that is part and parcel of first-time experiences...like that of a virgin's after having sex for the first time. Pardon my example but it's the best thing I could come up with at the moment. Yeah, talk about forcing some in with a passion.  Right. Right.

        One option is to create yet another blogsite specifically for that purpose, but this will bring me back to square one in terms of building up Page Ranking and other related ratings to qualify. Perhaps I should plant another seed without any intention of monetary gain again. Maybe it will evolve once more into something that will bear "fruit" down the road. Definitely, my original site, the one I always refer to as my "birthplace", Thoughts at 3am, will remain unadulterated for life. This niche, on the other hand, will be a collage of sorts for now where I run the risk of people giving my updates the cold shoulder expecting each post or each link to be of commercial nature or people having doubts about my integrity debating if the things I claim to be passionate about come with a fee or are genuinely mine . I have always been passionate in sharing every little discovery in my journey.  So either way, trust that everything is made with the purest intentions. In this case perhaps, the means justifies the end...(and vice versa). Besides, "pure intention" is another strong principle I always try live by.

         Perhaps I should start linking up this post as an epilogue to My Disclosure Policy too.

Saturday Night

Today, hubby and I did a pretty good job with stuff pertinent to our move. We're going to our favorite bar tonight in the city.  He "asked me out" yesterday. Date night, for a change *woohoo*. So I'm sitting here on the bed, writing this post in full "going out" regalia, make up, dangling earrings and all, and I'm still wearing my worn-out flipflops.  He's still in his casual highschool reunion a few blocks down and I didn't go because I needed time to shower and change from work clothes (fresh from the garage). He should be coming back soon. Good thing most of the wives didn't go either (I've hang out with most of them in his clique). I started sipping some wine by myself too.  Hopefully a little alcohol will cure my toothache which has been bothering me for two days now. I know, I know..I should make that long overdue appointment already!

He's Back!

Thank God my Dad's brachytherapy went well. After three or so hours of torment, he woke up, regained sensation after being numbed (for the first time ever) by spinal anesthesia and asked our driver who won the basketball game on TV.  I tried to wake up and say the rosary for him at 3am which was 6pm in the Philippines, the start of the procedure. Then I fell back asleep, but I fell asleep praying hard so I know that God heard me anyway.  The comforting part is that we know that 66 tiny radioactive seeds have been implanted and are now at work inside him -- oh God's little army! A few weeks from now, he'll be undergoing external radiation, which buys me more peace of mind at this point. Peace of mind. But that's not what I need. I just need him to have a new lease on life.  I just want him to live. Period.

Isn't this just a perfect example of the saying -- or question -- why do bad things happen to good people? But it's not my question to ask. I will just keep praying and hoping that he pulls through. I hope this is just one of those hurdles that will pass, a nightmare we'll eventually forget, and drama that won't leave an indelible mark (nor a permanent empty space) in our hearts.

On the lighter side, here's something funny.  As I was told, when my dad was in the recovery room, he was so bored and needed to look at the time frequently.  He asked for his prescription glasses and my sister (or was it the driver ---loyal Mang Romy, thank you for always being by my family's side!) handed it to him. He put them on and instantly got very alarmed saying that his vision seemed to have totally gone bad.  They had to ask the doctor if it was possible at all as a side-effect of knocking him out, my dad bugged the puzzled nurses, worried my sister and subjected himself to some self-inflicted horror trying to figure out why all of a sudden he had impaired vision. Then my mom, oblivious to the situation, arrived and complained about misplacing her own specs.  They later realized that my dad was wearing hers after all! That's my funny family, folks!   We are all walking unpredictable comic reliefs, you know.  And about my dad, this is his way of showing the world that he's back.  You see, nothing can keep a good man down.

Birthday Time!

Happy Birthday, Rocky!!! You are a rare friend. Someone I can trust,  someone who knows exactly how I would feel about things, and someone who holds genuine concern for my interests and the people I treasure, someone who knows a lot about me yet holds my secrets dear, someone who already knows what I need before I even realize it, someone who's there to find it before I look for it, someone who always wants the best for me. You are rare. I love you and I wish you your own slice from the happiness pie. It's about time...

Mixed Nuts

        What a crazy week...mixed feelings...mixed emotions. The schedule is not as wild as my craziest thus far, but I'm feeling kinda in the dumps. The 90210 re-runs that I've gotten attached to for the past months have just concluded last night and I'm suffering from separation anxiety.  I miss Kelly, Dylan, David, Donna, Steve and Janet already (they were my pseudo-friends). Maybe I'm just being hormonal. LOL. We're finally moving to the new house hopefully by Labor Day and I haven't gotten anything organized. There’s this little garage sale to start with hopefully next weekend. We don't have a handful of projects for the new house so I guess there’s nothing to be stressed about but I do want the kitchen repainted into a beautiful shade of Rustic Red. Then we’ll work from there -- shots of Contemporary Tuscan around the house. Wrought-iron décor...chunky candles everywhere, a good selection of subtle accents with tuscan colors like copper, terra cotta, tuscan gold, paprika, sage green, luscious olive, deep burgundy, chocolate brown, soft gold, tan, rust and dark red…

        It's all good. Not really. Miles away, Daddy’s getting in the hospital for his Brachytherapy and he has been telling me that he’s so terrified, this being his very first major medical treatment in all his 71 healthy and youthful years. (last year, he considered Botox treatments! – but I think he meant it as a joke *I think*) Seriously, I remember when I was 8 years old, the bank transferred him to a branch so far away that he’d come home only on weekends. He told me how he would drive across railroad tracks everyday (regular city tracks but at 8 years old that made me very fearful) And I remember praying so hard almost every moment that I could make God deaf just so he will be kept safe from incoming trains (and I guess in general), for me. I’m praying like that 8-year old all over again…So hard I can trade everything else that’s special.  But I know that God doesn’t work that way.  I hope He’ll keep my dad as safe and healthy as He has kept him when I asked for it more than two decades ago.

        At work, we have this big nationwide project that’s launching on Friday where I’m in charge of the Southern Pacific region with about 30ish branches to take care of. We are expected to implement in 4 days and all I have done so far is checkout the main company’s website and stare at it for hours.

        I’m in this phase again where I hope that time will fly faster so I can rush into the new house and do all the beautiful things I’ve planned, and at the same time wish the clocks will stop so my dad doesn’t have to go through his medical ordeal.

        I’m so antsy at work right now. I’m going nuts, big time.

Merry Christmas

For the second time in years, tears rolled down my eyes without following a surge of angry or hurt feelings.

The first time was a year ago when I was driving home from work and I spotted a woman with a dog by the intersection.  The dog looked and moved exactly like Milo – my sister’s pet back home who I found myself being a full-time stepmom to. I realized how much I missed the happy bonding run and fetch moments I shared with that hairy mutt. Cheesy, I know but nonetheless sent tears streaming down.

Last night was the next. I continued to catch up with my 90210 re-run recordings and they featured an episode where Donna’s mom was selling their family house and Donna told David about her happy childhood memories and how Christmas was her favorite time in that house. Long story short, David arranged for an off-season final Christmas in the house with the giant Christmas tree, the ornaments, Christmas carols in the background, the eggnog, family and friends wearing Santa hats. I could almost smell Donna’s Christmas…Donna’s final Christmas in that house.

And I suddenly smelled my own memories of Christmas past. Growing up in the  ancestral house, midnight mass in a private convent, new clothes, new shoes (that hurt because they haven’t been broken in), Christmas carols on the radio, our giant tree, Christmas eve (and “Noche Buena”) treats, cheese(!), the twinkling Tivoli lights, waking up on Christmas morning, the cool breeze, and spending time with family. 

FAMILY.  I miss my family. Is homesickness making its way in? Is it slowly creeping through tiny holes and gaps of the box that houses my heart? Through the cracks on windows that have been boarded up and doors I have nailed shut? I’m not dense, but I try to keep emotions at bay as much as I can, trying my best to live up to being the anchor of strength in my family that I can’t fold and will never intend to. Or perhaps, I take after my grandmother, the matriarch, who indirectly showed me how to be a real lady in emotional moments –calm and “seemingly” unaffected, zealous in her love but strangely distant; keeping it together to try and keep everyone from crumbling…in full control but straining hard not to dangerously collapse inside. 

I make sure every long distance phone call to my parents is a cheerful one – to leave them laughing and their spirits high until the next one, or to distract them and make them forget about me not being close by.  I’m miles away from these special people in the treasured Christmases of my childhood. Memories that make you ache to experience all over again but you know you can't. A hundred little pieces of homesickness pierced through last night.  Or perhaps, just being far away pushes one to wax prematurely nostalgic at age 35.  For whatever it was, this steel magnolia finally cried…

Second Chances

I'm so sleepy again you will have to hook me via a concentric catheter in the external carotid artery to an intravenous drip of 20% Red Bull, 25% Monster, 20% Rockstar, 25% Coffee, 10% Diet Coke. My schedule is still out of whack and I'm dog-tired.

Anyhoo,  I still can't fathom why for days on end, I would pay the coffee pot a visit on my 3pm breaks when I know that nobody makes coffee at that hour anymore.  And each time, the same repertoire of motions vis-a-vis feelings transpire: I waddle dazedly to the lunchroom bearing my prized coffee mug that contains nothing but a faint brown stain of coffee that dried up on a straight line as I desperately hang on to the last drops of morning fix with my mouth wide open and head tilted back so far I could fall off my chair, then I aim the mug under the spout of the thermos as a drought-victim would upon seeing an artesian well for the first time in 50 years, I press on the pump with so much faith that never seem to remember days and days of no coffee in the coffee pot at 3 o'clock. Then the spout manages to cough up air (or bubbles on good days) that so much sounds like but is definitely less productive than a person with a mild case of bronchitis. Then I turn around, embarassed for the almost imbecile show of hopefulness, and head for the water dispenser to get some cold water as an after-thought. And to dilute what remains of the stain.

Last week, as I was walking back to my desk, Anna (my co-worker inhabiting the cubicle next to the lunchroom) blurted out, "And what makes you think there's coffee at 3pm?" She heard the thermos cough. Several times. I don't know. Perhaps, I'm stupid that way. I'm stubborn that way. I persist and hope and anticipate change despite repeating disappointments. I know I can send Pavlov turning in his grave.

Today, at 3pm, I marched into the lunch room again but lo and behold, this time I emerged triumphant, with a mug full of coffee (not as hot but warm enough to tide me over). No one finished the morning fix! I showed my prize to Anna, she was on the phone but she gave me a smile and a thumbs-up sign.  You see, I'm very trusting and forgiving that way.  I don't lose hope on anything. Or in most (I didn't say all) cases, anyone. I believe in the innate cosmic goodness in things, events and people as long as we give them a chance (even if you need to turn them inside out, or shake, twist and squeeze...there's gotta be something!) You see, I don't give up easily. You see, you'll never know when you're going to hit the jackpot.

Hotline to Heaven

How can one explain that on the same day that I wrote the deposit check for the house we're buying, not even an hour after our agent picked it up and I started having qualms about the cost of this humongous California mortgage causing a major revamp in our monthly budget, the President of our company comes calling me to his office, hands me my payslip and says "thank you for your wonderful service to the company, we're giving you a raise and it's already incorporated in this pay period". My hair was raising all over as I walked back to my desk.

I don't remember praying for it but I do remember throwing this silent question to God in one of my passing thoughts: Lord, I don't know if it is the right house, or if it is really the ripe time for us, just show me when you can.

What a wondrous and beautiful language he speaks to us in. Isn't it?

631,152,000 seconds of friendship

OR 10,519,200 minutes and counting – I think that sounds fascinating too!

Hi Ali!

It’s August 8, 2008 in the Philippines (the 7^th over here) today. I don’t know if there is such a big and official thing as an anniversary of friendship but I hope you remember that at one point, we officially recognized August 8, 1988 (8/8/88) as the start of our friendship. It was a lucky day for us alright!

Twenty years, brother! Twenty years of knowing that I have the kind of friend  who will stick by me even if I will be the Most Wanted criminal in the world. You are that kind of friend. And that’s one special lesson on friendship that I learned from you.

I still find myself visiting that happy place in my heart.  A place that tells tales of long hours on the phone, breakfast meals at 10pm, round trips on the train just for kicks, a long list of things to do together scribbled on a folded piece of paper tucked in our wallets (way before PDAs and cellphones became popular), movies, shared tears, road trips, food trips, caffeine and nicotine trips (a-huh!), our RC cars…and even deeper down memory lane: painting and sketching together in high school, the dance number we did (ulgk!), the endless exchange of letters when I went away for college, the unspoken agreement to celebrate the day after Christmas (my mom’s birthday) at my house each year. And you know what I miss the most? Those endless philosophical musings and intellectual conversations I shared with you.  That has been pretty scarce in my circle lately. *sucks*

It’s sad that the road we used to travel has reached a fork that split our ways physically, but hopefully not in any other way.  People evolve, lives do change, and we cannot stop the wheel from turning.  The happy thing is that you’ve found your own bestfriend in your spouse, and so have I in mine. My hubby  doesn’t get jealous when I talk about memories with you. He knows that you are my brother, and are now also his. At any rate, I am at peace with knowing that we are both happy where we are now, and in a good place which we only used to dream of.

I just want to thank you for being my bestfriend through those years, really the “bestest” friend, although there is no such word, only such meaning...and it applies to you. I have been so blessed to have that kind of friendship with you. The same still goes out from my heart to you, and now to your wife, and my godson. I look forward to seeing you all on my next visit.

*squiggles* whatever that means, boy!

PS. I'm posting pictures I stole from your friendster! Hahaha. I know you wouldn't mind LOL =P because for some reason, I have no "digital" pictures of us to post right away.  That's how ancient we are. YIKES!

Wanna hear something funny?

Okay. So I ended up pulling my husband’s hair (not the sexy kind) like one wicked and enraged witch the other night (AARRRGGGHHH!). IN MY SLEEP.

I had this dream that someone I knew who’s always been so stubborn and never respected my words and feelings in the past has dunnit again! And if I used to be patient, understanding and tolerant with her, I certainly was the exact opposite in my dream.  Talk about suppressed feelings!  Aggressive and revengeful tendencies! In my dream, I was so frustrated I started yelling at her (YES! finally, after all those years of torment!) then I grabbed her thick wiry hair and started pulling it (like in an overly-dramatic soap opera with flames almost churning out of my nostrils).  GGGGGRRRRR!!!!! ARRRRRGGGH!!!! It was almost cathartic. Aaah, the pleasure of finally letting the floodgates loose!

Then suddenly, I woke up because my husband shook me.  He had this big astounded and bewildered look in his eyes...no, make that thunderstruck ... stupefied...flabbergasted...PETRIFIED... as he nervously chirped, “What the hell did you do that for?” I was pulling hard on his hair with such adrenaline-powered grip and his eyes were as round as golf balls.  Oh the poor innocent sleeping thing...

It was hella funny.  I ended up laughing my way back to sleep.  Maybe I should start seeing a therapist for a sleeping disorder (aggressive tendencies in dreams) hahaha or for some minor problems while fully awake (suppressing anger and stuff).  Nah, I prefer to transcend and stay calm.  Too much drama makes one ugly and sick.  Besides, I must admit I enjoyed that hair-pulling drama and I'm not about to let that go *LOL*.

I still can't stop laughing! Hell, yeah!

"Compassion and tolerance are not a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength." - Dalai Lama

Aloha Festival (Presidio, SF)

I had a blast last weekend.  We performed at the Aloha Festival last Saturday.  I just remembered how last year, I promised myself I wouldn't be just watching at the festival anymore, I would be performing. Well...

Here's something to scratch off my list again! But I'll keep doing it. See you next year! Mahalo...