Tell me why do seagulls cry?

         I’m back from lunch. Actually, I replace my lunch with 30-minute walks now by the bay.  This time it’s for real. I eat my sandwich on either my 10am or 3pm coffee break. If that doesn’t work for my body, at least it will work for my sanity.  It was nice out there today.  The breeze wasn’t too cold although the sun on the way back got too hot on my face.  I’ll bring a hat next time.  There were small bursts of scented flowers in the air, in between whiffs of sea water, wet grass, and yes, jackrabbit “pellets”.

        I walked all the way to my favorite tree, which is always my turning point. The ocean was so calm, there was a single duck (or was that a seagull?) floating by the shore.  Probably the same little guy I saw yesterday.  He seemed oblivious to the world while the rest of his flock were flying smoothly like kites on the sky.  I admire him for that, he seemed to be enjoying his solitude.  I could hear the rest of the seagulls cry.  I could see the city across the bay.  The skyline was foggy but visible.  The bay bridge looked like it was lifted out from a faded photograph. And there seemed like a translucent veil between the mountains and me.

        Suddenly I felt sad as I slipped out of the blue into some serious thought, mulling over a painful part of my life. With everything that I got going in my life right now, it’s like the aspiration of becoming a mom just keeps being pushed further and further away into the back burner.  I am currently trapped in a loop of daily bliss and bustle, which I truthfully enjoy.  I’m getting quite content with my routine right now you can almost see some pregnant selfishness emanating.  I still want a baby, yes, but the thought hurts me so I tend to shun away from it and keep it at bay. Am I truly ready? Perhaps that is not even the appropriate question.  Where has all the looking forward gone? Maybe this is some kind of helpless surrender. Or grudge. A chip on my shoulder. I can’t define it.  It’s not the feeling of refusing to have my own baby per se, but the daunting thought of losing another one. 

        God will make all things beautiful in HIS time, in his terms.  I looked ahead.  The mountains were disappearing into the horizon. Please don’t let my heart disappear with them.

        Til next time.

Edamame

It seems like I am able to write on Fridays now. It’s one of those intermittent quiet twilight-zonish periods at work again (Is it getting more frequent now? I hope we ‘re not going out of business anytime soon!!!) Well, it’s one of those days where I can sneak open a browser or two for some non-work-related rendezvous in my cube. Let’s see... http://www.france-pub.com/french , because the Rosetta Stone is such a wallet-denter and www.costco.com, just to get ready for some weekend shopping. I’m sleepy and what a bummer of all bummers, there is no coffee left in the pot for me, and I’m too lazy to make my own cup.  I made a cup of Green Tea instead, but doesn’t tea have approximately 55 milligrams of caffeine per cup while coffee has approximately 125-185 milligrams of caffeine per cup? So to match my morning caffeine fix, I will probably have to down 3.36 cups of tea in one sitting, which will annoy my bladder eventually aside from the fact that the effect of caffeine in tea usually takes longer to enter the blood stream than coffee, which definitely annoys me already. One cup apparently doesn’t work for me.  By some stroke of luck, Moe dropped by my cube to deliver a plateful of edamames broiled in Kikoman Teriyaki sauce. Wow! Instant Japanese picnic on my desk!  It's something healthy to munch on while stifling sporadic yawns. She recommended that I suck on the outside to savor the sauce, which actually I found myself doing as if by instinct as soon as I squeezed the soybeans out from the pod.

What joy! I just discovered that I’m not the only orally-fixated individual in this health-conscious workplace.

Kodak Moments

KODAK MOMENTS by Clarisse P. M.

It’s everywhere. Photos have evolved from Sepia or B&W cold stares of people in top hats and gowns to wacky motion shots of people hanging up-side-down from monkey bars. A guy sprawled on the hood of a cobalt blue Mercedes. A 30-ish woman showing off a milk moustache. Marilyn Monroe reincarnated. A girl cheek-to-cheek with a Heineken bottle. 1001 versions of Da Vinci’s Vitruvian Man. We see them on Friendster, MySpace, Face Book, hi5, Xanga, 360, etc. even on Shutterfly, Winkflash, and I wouldn’t be surprised if The Yellow Pages and Missing Person websites get invaded as well.  Things have changed with the advent of digital cameras and camera phones. We have re-invented the traditional photo shoot. We take pictures of ourselves, by ourselves.  We now say “Pang-friendster! Pang-email! Smile!” (“For Friendster! For emails…”) in lieu of “Picture, picture! Smile! ” Here’s something I can't help but write about during my coffee breaks at work, 15 minutes at a time.  For your reading pleasure...

The BASIC SOLO

This is a basic self-portrait taken by the left hand of the subject (or the right, whichever is longer), stretched out in advanced yoga proportions that if lucky enough, would show a little bit of background, more often than not tilted at a 45 degree angle. And if it happens to be a face-imitating-a-plate case as mine is, then no bit of background is left, and sometimes the face is cropped at, luckily, some occasionally aesthetically sound perimeters.

The GROUP PICTURE

This is similar to the basic self-portrait except that there is more than one person in the frame, squeezed anchovies-in-a-flat-can style.  It could be boyfriend-girlfriend, hubby-wifey (as our case), a family picture, or the entire party pack.  This is taken by one of the subjects (with the longest arm, I suppose) and whose face might unfortunately end up halfway out of the frame -- you’ll recognize him with the bangs and one eye peeping in from one of the corners.  It looks good taken from up high, but from below, chances are, it would be a shocking expose of double chins (why am I often a victim of this?!?)  And oh, it is futile to attempt to capture a group moment and a picturesque background together, lest you want to have a picture by the beach which could have conveniently been taken at anyone’s backyard.

The SOLO redefined

I’m not sure which one needs to be mentioned first.  There is a plethora of potential here:

The Super Model Pout – You see people doing their own rendition of Angelina Jolie trying to see if she has a fly sitting on the tip of her lip pose --or if you’re a Filipino like me, you’re probably just pointing at something ober der (over there). Truthfully, it makes one look cute, it adds appeal, and plus, it’s a free-do-as-you-please world, but please don’t attempt it if you’re only 12 years old or 80, or something. Disclaimer: I don’t mean to hurt anyone with this, as I’m guilty of it myself at some point in my life and would certainly still try to pull a good one off if the situation calls for it.

The Pensive Look – On this one, we see people looking away from the camera, pretending a candid shot if only the outstretched arm holding the camera doesn’t give it away by materializing on either the lower left or the lower right corner of the frame. The subcategories for this one includes The Thinker (looking up), The Saint or The Holy One (looking down), The Demure (looking down with a small smile) and Paris Hilton (looking left or right).

The Mad Stare – The subject looks at the camera directly in the eye, or away, with the two eyebrows gravitating to each other in unibrow fashion, the nose wrinkling inward pulling the rest of the facial parts toward the center like a prune. (I guess, this is better called “The Constipated…” don’t you think?)

Seduction – a popular one is the Open-mouthed Smile with only a small view of the tongue curled up inside (risk: mosquitoes and bugs might get sucked into the mouth while doing this);  another hot one is the Wet Look, which is self-explanatory.  The hottest one, I believe, is the Tongue-sticking-out-on-one-side smile, which if not executed properly might make one accidentally drool, or look like one of those comic strip characters in Buhay Pilipino by Mars Ravelo. (I was digging my nose into Liwayway magazine as soon as I learned how to read)

Funny Face- This is when someone attempts to put on his original goofy and horrifically funny face, or sometimes, one doesn’t even need to try at all.

Body Parts- Because we are not content with just showing our faces, and gone are those days when we need another person to actually take the picture, we are now in the era where we can be magazine covers (or centerfolds) in a photo shoot that we can plot ourselves within the safe confines of our room – or bathroom. We see pictures of legs, arms, fingers (don't forget the PEACE sign), backs and other behinds, necks, napes, tattoos, foreheads, feet, armpits (really?) and yes, the most often shot area: cleavages (hills or prairies, it doesn’t seem to matter), and cleavages, and screaming CLEAVAGES plus a few other “landscapes” in the dark that we can’t even decipher or make anything out of.

The Views - In connection with the above, there is the popular aerial view where you can see the top of one’s head, or faces of people laying down on the grass, sand, snow, bed, or maybe even kitchen countertops; the side view/profile, the 90 degree angle, the up-side-down, the tilt (which is my favorite, by the way), the back view, the underwater shot, or other shots taken from only heaven knows where.

The Mirror Image- If all else fails, we see people resorting to mirror-aided shoots, including of course the reflection of no other than the handheld camera or camera phone itself, aimed a little below shoulder level like you discreetly would a 45.

My favorites for myself are the windblown look (guilty!), the cocktail-in-one-hand-let’s-drink-to-that pose (super guilty!), and recently, I have embarked into the Hat fever.  In a nutshell, we’ll find a million different expressions of human creativity with that little digital box. I have only touched the tip of the iceberg.

But seriously now, why do we do such things? Why do we take pictures? Have we really been simply “myspaced” or “friendsterized”?

There must be a deeper reason why.  In one of my many great conversations with my friend (Hi Ali!), we talked about what Susan Sarandon said in the movie “Shall we Dance?” about getting married “that you can co-exist and build a life and have a witness to your life.” Maybe this is how it is. We are built to share our lives as stage actors in a play would.  It is not confined only to the spouse, but it can be the best friend, the family, a group of friends, co-workers, parents and acquaintances.  All of us are closet celebrities who appreciate being seen, and are happy to share most parts of us to the audience world outside. They are the witnesses.  The pictures…evidences.

I used to take a lot of pictures when hubby and I were apart, so he could see each thing I did and witness each happy moment I had in the Philippines . I took pictures to preserve memories with my friends back home, and mainly for me to look back to when I start missing them.  Now that I am with hubby, we take pictures together to preserve the moment, for posterity and hopefully to help us with our memories when we start forgetting our own names.

Above all else, I am in this phase where I am taking pictures for my parents back home. Not to sound righteous or anything but I do take time out to even compose my shots just for them.  Maybe to compensate for not being there anytime they need me? This possible reason and realization just about pierced my heart.  What I know for sure is that I sincerely want them to see, and feel (if possible) from thousands of miles away each thing that I experience, everything that I see, wherever I go. Right now, I have a 4-inch thick bunch of prints waiting to be shipped back home, duly labeled and numbered, which my mom and dad would faithfully slip into stacks and stacks of photo albums to show family and friends. It’s so much better than email but certainly will never ever make up for not being there physically.

Friendster or MySpace, of course, come after the fact but I always look forward to posting pictures online and showing my friends what I have been up to. It’s a delightful feeling which I believe all of us share. After all, we are all beautiful miracles waiting to be witnessed.

Who do you take your pictures for?

~~~Clarisse aka Teacher C  8-28-07

A Cup of Coffee

        We got home really late last night.

        We had a lot of fun in LA last weekend and with these frequent trips we’ve been doing, I must say that long car rides, though they still take a lot from me, no longer drive me as nuts as they used to. It’s not because I’m not used to it. It’s just that I would rather be on my two feet (or on the bed) than sitting still on a moving vehicle for what seems like forever. But yes, Saturday was really fun. We spent the morning beach-combing at Huntington beach with my hubby’s cousin, Ian. Had a few easy cocktails (some Absolut Ruby Red mixed with Cranberry, and a slice of lemon --- yumm!) and just walked around lazily passing surfers, joggers and sunbathers. I missed Boracay all of a sudden. Our afternoon was spent at Station 13 at the State Beach. We chaperoned my stepdaughter at her band's picnic. It was really awesome. We were around kids and other parents just eating, talking and sitting out on the sun on our picnic mats. Alyssa made me my first real smores from the bonfire (not that I haven’t tried it before, but would pre-made grocery-sold smores really count?) I really liked it, most especially because Aldred pulled me out of the crowd to watch the sunset.

       

        Then we had a quiet evening celebrating Al’s cousin-in-law’s birthday at their place, just bonding over bottles of Snapple (yes, Snapple!), while listening to IZ in the background singing my favorite songs. The original plan was to spend Sunday at Universal Studios (since they said they will be tearing down Back to the Future soon…as if it matters, but might as well, right?)…then it shifted to a short trip to Disneyland…then last minute over sunday brunch at Denny’s, Al decided to bring us to Sunset Blvd. instead, and do a mini-tour of Downtown LA, perhaps eat some Pink’s hotdogs. We would postpone Uni and Disney to some other time when we can spend more time there. That sounded really good since I don’t think they will be closing down anytime soon anyways, hahaha. As we were heading to Sunset though, we got word that Peewee (another cousin of Al) is in town on his first international flight as a licensed PAL pilot. We took a grand detour to reunite with family instead. I was really happy to see him again.  It was all worth it even if we just ended up in a mall before heading back upnorth.

        The drive back last night was tiring. As if the repetitive lines on the freeway weren't hypnotizing enough, Al was listening to this audio CD of Stephen Pressfield's book, "Gates of Fire" (have you seen “300” – The Battle of Thermopylae?)-- while I, a self-proclaimed bookworm, was busy head-banging my way in and out of consciousness.

        What can you expect? This morning, must I say, it’s another one of those terrible Monday mornings for my head. I was sleepy and didn’t want to wake up for work. When my friend Monica saw me, she knew right away (from how I looked, I guess!) that I had another one of those busy blurry weekends that I tend to complain about. She surprised me with a cup of coffee at my desk, five minutes before I went on my coffee break. Sure this was another busy, blurry weekend, leaving me lagging behind chores and other things (FOR PETE'S SAKE, THERE ARE STILL NO VALID EXCUSES FOR UNWASHED DISHES OR A DIRTY FLOOR!) I painfully discovered here in America , crazy social obligations, errands and schedules packed like sardines will toss you around like a tennis ball if you don't rule over them. Tita Ces is right. Here, life will dictate you if you don’t try your best to dictate it.   I’m not sure which one works for me at this point though since, looking back, I see that we also managed to pull out a great degree of fun somehow. Either way is okay I guess, although Al and I have decided to slow down pretty soon. Maybe after September.  But that is the same thing that we said about August.  Or July. *SIGH* For Labor Day weekend, he and I might play hookie, not from work, but from everyone else. And I ain't telling...

        Life will dictate you if you don’t try your best to dictate it.  Hmmm. Sounds logical.  Well, I have learned to see that either way makes me happy, for now. Sometimes it's futile to go against the flow. It's really a case to case thing and I just choose to dance the dance for now instead of fret and be miserable.  It could be really tiring, but this day to day life here can still be a piece of cake. Eating it can be my cup of tea. Or coffee for me.

Clarisms II

TGIF! Aside from it being a Friday…I got paid today!

It’s slow at work today, so I get a chance to write something. I tried to cut my bangs in my cube yesterday when things got too slow (if you think I’m joking, then you really don't know me that much yet) I realized my bangs have gotten too long that it was tugging on one side of my hairline, making it look like an ugly thinning out patch...so cut I did! Now my bangs are so thick, puffy but light that they stand on their own and make me look like I just got up from bed, and it’s 2:26 pm!) Today, there’s nothing left for me to cut and I’m sure my co-worker won’t appreciate it if I start styling her hair --though sometimes, I catch myself mentally trying to do so.  So I’m writing instead. I’m actually emailing this from my work email to my yahoo ad, since our security firewall blocks Friendster like it’s one of those wanted psycho serial killers.  What a bummer. I’ll just upload it tonight. One passionate blogger could be that desperate, y'know! And hopefully embellish it with pictures too (if this one comes out with pictures, that means I actually had time in between evening chores and hubby-related affairs--tv, basically).  It’s been a while since I’ve done that.  Not that I am one of those desperately-needing-to-blog-everytime-online-journal-junkies, well, yeah, maybe I am, sort of…whatever! I would usually write to make something out of an experience. But today, these are just random bouncing thoughts to pass the time, and hopefully it takes me somewhere. Or at least just to record some irrelevant stuff in my journal, which, who knows may be worth something someday.  Call me a hopeless sentimental.  I just like to keep record of my biographical thingamajigs. Yeah right, like I would be famous someday.  Like a special little spot will be cordoned in a museum for me one day. Alright, guilty!  That’s actually one of the dreams that my subconscious secretly desires.  Well, just in case this happens, curators will not have a hard time gathering and authenticating my mementos.  I have two memory chests back home that has a lot of it, and I mean, it is one organized lot! Let me recall…my first notebook when I was first starting how to write and draw, my favorite toys…a fisher price dollhouse (which is a duplex now after it was split into two following a child-induced seismic calamity), a stinky pillow in the shape of Minnie Mouse’s head, which I creatively drawn eyebrows and teeth on with a Pilot pentel pen, a small piano with technicolored keys, etc.  I also have my ballet and other performance costumes, except for the ballet shoes---where did they go? Then there are my sketch pads, slumbooks, year-by-year journals and moldy filo-faxes, my Trapper Keepers, some test papers (with nice scores ofcourse, the rest have been conveniently burned or used as confetti), my cheerleader uniforms (including some pom-pom samples, which, I believe are disintegrating by now). Or even a small t-shirt with “Clarisse” printed out on the front back in those days when I was a Size 0 (I was probably 5 yrs old then, hahaha). Wow, this is launching me into an impromptu trip down memory lane.  Let’s not go there today.  But well, I really don’t know why I like keeping these things.  I'm not really attached to them.  I just like to be organized with them.  Maybe to have something to brag about around my lucky descendants someday?  ("ano ka, cheerleader  po ang LOLA mo!!!") Or well, maybe to show my hubby how special I am? (I don’t really need to, actually…he believes in me more than I believe in myself, or sometimes, even more than what I am really capable of doing.  Like there was one time in an official event, his proud a$$ volunteered me on-the-spot to do something geeky just because someone else couldn’t get the presentation’s software to run ("go wifey, show them what you’ve got!") and for the life of me, I didn’t have any clue what to do! 

Maybe I file away my tangible and intangible memories systematically so these could be reminders for myself of the many things that I have experienced and to thank God, my parents, and everyone I have crossed paths with for paving the way for me.  Maybe it is also a reminder for me now, to keep working on this journey as positively as I can, add up to the memory chest and squeeze in a million more brand new experiences everyday.  After all, I am a special and beautiful work in progress, and that is how it always will be.

 

Be Careful What You Wish For

THURSDAY AFTERNOON AT WORK.  My boss peeped into my cube and saw my pair of dumbells sitting together at the edge of my desk, partially obstructing the view of jars and jars of diet supplements and diet powder (which actually feels like toothpaste without the mint and tastes like white cement when mixed with iced tea...I'm beginning to suspect that they actually work by cementing off one's gut).  She curiously picked them up, and ask what they were doing there (aside from attempting some weird and awkward arm raises with my 2-lb weights...LOL --- I love you, Judy).  I didn't know what to say, they have been sitting there for weeks now and all I really accomplished was to stare at them during my coffee breaks or use them as holders for my microwaved sausage biscuits.  I intended to bring them on my walks by the ocean during my lunch breaks, but I keep forgetting. Yeah, yeah.  I did not want to lose my "fitness-buff" facade (which desperately covers my couch-potato-I'd rather-be-sleeping-lazy-a$$-alter-ego) so I quickly said my future plan, in the present tense..."Oh, I use them when I go on walks...and during my breaks here when I have nothing to do" (Dear Lord, please forgive me for lying, and please don't punish me with more weight). I complained to my boss that I sit all day, and that I'm getting the deskjob hips, and that my favorite Seven jeans don't fit, and that I gained what seems to be like twenty pounds since I started working.  I rattled on that I am perpetually cooped up in my cube and I never get to be on my feet anymore and that dimples are beginning to show up where they are not wanted.

FRIDAY MORNING. I arrived at work, people were  loitering on the hallways.  I found out that the phones conked out, the internet was not working, and we were seemingly detached from the rest of the world, ergo, we will be useless for the day, or until SBC finds out what was wrong with the cables a few blocks down.  It was like a scene from the Twilight Zone.  I overheard that we were going to be sent home (the possibility of going back to bed already sent my soul careening in a wreckless astral travel back to the house) until the managers had a "eureka!" moment...with lightbulbs still flashing on their heads, they said "We need help at the back", that meant the warehouse. Bam! There goes the bed...and the hot pink shawl I draped over my top that day, and the chandelier earrings that matched the shawl.  We all marched into the warehouse.

I rolled up my sleeves, I mean, I took off the shawl and started manually labelling jars of nutritional supplements (we have machines, but we have two products that come in oversized jars that just don't fit), I did a lot...labelling, sealing, putting them back in boxes,  carrying the boxes back to the palette, the whole shebang.  I wanted to learn how to manuever the carts, but they didn't let me because I was wearing hot pink flipflops that matched my shawl...and chandelier earrings.  I never had the chance to sit down, except for coffee breaks and lunch break.  The mexican warehouse supervisor came up to me and said "if the job is too hard for your hands, just let me know, I can give you a lighter one".  (Just because I wear chandelier earrings doesn't mean I am going to release my own version of Paris Hilton's The Simple Life!!!).  I bravely declined his offer and soldiered on.  I have always dreamed of doing some manual labor, some blue collared work that I never ever had. 

This is it.  Sure it was fun, but as seconds turned to minutes and minutes turned to hours, I was sore all over.  I was stinking, I was dirty, I was tired, and I had a throbbing, itchy but ouchy papercut.  A new kind of appreciation for these people is born.  It made me want to autograph each bottle I labeled, knowing that in a few days, it will go to an end customer.  It made me appreciate each invisible guy behind every tub of margarine, every bottle of shampoo, every jar of mayonnaise (especially back in those days when automation in the production line was still unheard of).  It made me appreciate my husband even more, a tech at BMW, who proudly refers to himself as a grease monkey but manages to spoil me rotten with his pay, and give in to my every whim and fancy --I'm not really a spoiled abusive brat but I can be a pampered baby! (I won't attempt anymore to keep him awake or plot on keeping his eyes open by supporting them with toothpicks while he is dozing off after a hard day's work.) 

I felt weird eating with my colleagues who thought of having pizza delivered as some kind of reward for working our butts off at the "back" (how come the mexicans don't have pizza everyday? they sweat it back there everyday).

I had a lot of fun though. And I surely wouldn't mind doing it over and over again.  I was able to rest my brain and I was finally able to flex all those sleeping muscles.  (No wonder the warehouse gals are bombshells...and we at Customer Support, are tanks and submarines).  We had a little teambuilding synthesis of the whole experience...you'd hear words like, "We should do this more often....or....it was an awakening for us...or...this will make us tolerate warehouse mistakes more patiently..yada...yada...yada..." The best part was, when my boss, with nothing but sincerity in her tone said "Wow, you were standing all day, Clarisse.  Wasn't that a good workout? You got what you wanted!"

'Nuff said.

Wifey Time

I'm really just squeezing this in. A little bit of wifey time til hubby gets back.  He's picking up our nephew to bring with him to LA tomorrow. I'll be by myself for a day (and a night).  That's kind of sad since Aldoy and I pretty much go everywhere together, we breathe the same air, hear the same sounds, and see a lot of different things at the same time together when we're both not at work.  We're like siamese twins attached to the ...well, never mind.  But it's some welcome mini-hiatus from my busy life though.  They say it's also good for relationships.  Yeah right, I'm just going to get some laundry done perhaps, without anyone tail-gating me along the hallway, plotting another crazy but funny prank behind my back (I'm not complaining!)...well, time to wash another set of brand new sheets! And maybe do some paperwork and bills.  Pretty soon, we will be drowning in a 10-ft pile of junk mail, which for some reason I tend to hoard because I put if off when I'm too busy, or truthfully, I save them for real cathartic shredding-with-the-electric shredder-days (tell me it's not some kind of mental disorder, phu-leez!!!). 

I just got home from Hula class.  Two straight hours of serious butt-throwing, hip-swaying (and must I add, love-handle wiggling like jello) business.  Real fun though and I am seriously gunning for intermediate classes at the end of the summer.  Woohoo! It's about time I get back in shape before I completely let myself go.  I like the schedule because Al plays basketball with his buddies the same night I do my Hula.  I need to kick him out of the house too now because he is pretty much laying down on the bed as soon as he gets home from work, and it is packing up the pounds really fast (and let's not forget this senseless sunflower seeds munching sport that is slowly creeping up into top one of his TO DO list, tsk...tsk...tsk).  Well, Wednesday nights are wifey's-not-cooking nights! They are beef chao-fan from D & A Cafe nights...Beef Burritos from Taco Bell nights...KFC...Food fresh from the can nights...

Tonight though, Aldoy came home earlier than I did (I thought he was playing basketball??) He whipped up a mean supper of grilled fresh Portobello mushroom topped with ground turkey cooked with a hint of butter and topped again with oozing melted mozarella cheese garnished with basil and oregano to seal all the toppings down.  Winner!  That just about more than made up for what I burned in hula class, if there is any that I burned at all.  *SIGH*

Wednesday nights are fun. I'm smiling.  But I gotta hit the shower now before he gets back.  ;)

aaaah summer!

...11:30p and I'm so wide awake...what else is new? hubby and i took a supposed 10-minute nap when we got home from work at around 5, which stretched til around 9p! we were so tired yesterday...watching the fourth of july parade under the sweltering heat at webster street (historic and vintage-ish, awesome!)...and then watching the fireworks at treasure island last night...with the cold ocean breeze freezing my cheeks...(incidentally, we celebrated my first year here in the US too...last year, my plane landed as America lit her fireworks....grand entrance wasn't it?).  yesterday was fun, but i was beat! this morning i had to down one whole can of rockstar to get me going at work, i think i almost fell asleep at a stoplight...good thing i didn't have to cook tonight, it was al's turn! we just had hotdogs that he cooked on the grill (he's my grill guy and fry daddy).  it's nice to be out there at the backyard deck now...nice and cool, not totally warm yet but not that chilly...we lit the tiki torches...the breeze smelled like trees and soil (from plants i just watered), with a hint of smoke from the grill and the citronella tiki torches...perfect! (i could almost hear bob marley singing in the background) i'm redoing the backyard by the way. yes, yes...i'm going through some kind of evolution these days, from "sore" thumb (i think it's more of "sour" for me), to green thumb. who would have thought! al and i bought flowering plants and vegetable seeds and it's been a week since we started cleaning up and re-organizing the yard...we started a little bit too late though...should have done some in the spring...but the project just hatched at the start of summer so we have a lot more work to do still...a little bit of landscaping here and there...plants to be moved...sprouts to ah uhrm uhrm keep sprouting? tell me, i still don't know a single thing! i hope my flowers survive, they kinda look a little sad to me...al said they are probably going through some kind of shock from re-planting...my cousin Ate Bing said i should water them more...hahaha...al thinks i should TALK to them more (i'm trying!)  well, i got the whole summer to enjoy this hit and miss project...the bottomline is the therapeutic fun i am able to get out of it. i'm just so excited! the backyard's almost fit for all those summer fun now.  we still need to replace some of the wooden planks at the deck but they will have to do for now.  i want a jazmine plant...or something that smells really really good. i can't wait.  i can take out my canvas and start painting and do my sketches outside now...i have a fresh set of acrylic paints i got on sale at beverly's...i won't hear al say don't spill paint on the floor anymore...haha...what else? i am finally going to be able to use my old english tea set for some real afternoon high tea in the backyard with my bestie...actually, my niece Dana, and hopefully when my stepdaughter gets here for her summer visit.  we'll bake some scones and cookies, make tea sandwiches, dress up...the whole nine yards!!! summer fun in the backyard and beyond. al has finally gotten the mountain bikes ready too...and oh those evening summer walks!  i'll be busy wednesday nights with new hula and tahitian classes...and a recital at the end of the summer...(my tummy isn't tahitian performance-ready...they shake even before i throw my hips, oh darn...) hopefully this will be an incentive to lose weight fast  before i become a diet pill junkie...i'm almost there.  almost.  well....i'm occupied...living some of my dreams...and happy. 

summer rocks!

My Otis Drive

While I was packing up my stuff to leave work yesterday, I felt a little pinch of excitement somewhere underneath my heart, yes, physiologically speaking, it was a ticklish feeling buried somewhere in the middle of my chest (“kilig” is more like it…hey, how do you explain “kilig” in English???).  I just remember that it came a millisecond after the image of driving along Otis Drive flashed in my mind.  Yeah, I felt excited to drive! I was excited to drive!!!

Let’s backtrack a little bit here.  Eversince I started driving here in the US , my self-esteem seemed to dwindle so many notches down where driving is concerned.  I have always been brave and adventurous in the Philippines , driving my Honda CRV with only one hand, left hand outstretched, right elbow resting on the armrest, both feet outstretched with the seat pulled so far away from the steering wheel you’ll never think it was a female driver that owns it.  Then for some reason, the process of re-learning rules over here (and actually respecting them) while in so many instances unconsciously violating some and then failing the DMV test, made me develop this irrational fear of driving…or maybe fear of getting chased or pulled over by cops? Or is it fear of getting the other people on the road upset?… I have not even had a big share of freeway driving yet!

Suddenly, like a comforting hand, Otis Drive is slowly pulling me away from this insane cowardice which I was beginning to succumb to.  Shame on me, I have always been Wonder Woman!  There is nothing grand about Otis Drive, except that it is a wide and peaceful stretch.  A single turn to the left would bring me to South Shore shopping center, where some of my favorite stores are (the only one in our area actually).  Down to the very end brings me to the park and the beach, and a single turn to the right brings me the sight of a welcoming row of oddly tall palm trees. Nothing as grand as other places I've seen. Nothing as awesome as other paradises I've known.  But this one attaches itself to my heart as a special human being would.  This, along with other things, makes me feel excited, welcome, comfortable and so "at home" as days and months go by in my life here in the United States...These things make me look forward to each day, some make me cruise beyond my comfort zones a lot easier...a trip to Westifield Mall in SF, lazy sundays combing estate sales and antique shows, a good hip-hop class at 24-hour Fitness, some good extra-long conversations with our senior customers at work that make them happy, a long drive to LA with my husband, stopping at Harris Ranch and back,  Ontario Mills Mall even without buying a single thing, saying good morning to my new friend at work, Monica, who starts her job 30 minutes earlier than I do, dressing up for church and having a sunday american brunch at Tilly's with Aldred...I can go on for a long time about this.

This is not a list of feel-good things.  It's not a list of things that make me happy.  These are simply inexplicable little and shallow things that excite me, drive me and make me look forward even more to life in general.  Like little weapons in times of need. I'm stuffing my pocket with a lot of it.

What is your Otis Drive?

Has it really been that long???

My last blog was on April 22nd, and I didn't even write anything in there! I don't have enough time to write, reflect or meditate. Oh no, I don't want to lose it!!! I am the kind of person who stops, smells the flowers, and pauses long enough to write about it. What's happening?

The past two months have been a blur.  A real blur.  I always liken my life to snapshots from a moving train.  On digital sports mode, ofcourse.  This time though, it's just plain blurry.  I  was caught in a flurry of activities from the downright mundane but still time-consuming to the schedule-threatening mishaps and nerve-wracking episodes...(workie-workie, then my sis getting gravely ill and then recovering as if she just had an allergic reaction --talk about touring Stanford in the real sense of the word, from the ER to the private room, as a patient!!!, chores, out of town trips, parties, events, parties, events, parties...) aka BUSY. VERY BUSY. I thought I left that all behind me in the Philippines. But NO. And it ain't over yet, sweetie.

This morning, I just burst into tears which puzzled Aldred.  "Why, mahal, are you hungry? Here, eat some of my fries." Funny.  I guess I was just irritated.  I miss our quiet weekends.  Just being lazy, or doing household chores together.  I love doing chores.  They are therapeutic for me.  It's the car trips that wear me out. It's like for the past months, we were living our lives for others.  Which ain't bad actually.  But we need some personal time too. Hopefully, our "crazy" schedule and commitments will subside by July.  We need to chill out and try to have a baby. Hee Hee Hee.

Lately, my urge to run away to the moon has been getting stronger and stronger, taking Aldred and just a bag of sunflower seeds (for him) with me...and maybe a couple of DVDs. And yes, it's fine to leave my new beloved Cingular 8525 behind.  Hmmm, maybe not.  It's okay, there's no signal in the moon anyway.

But we'll just have to be content with what is possible.  Aldred took me to the mall today.  Just us.  I bought some mineral make-ups at Sephora.  He bought Sunflower seeds.  We went home and enjoyed the quiet evening. Tomorrow will be another free day (hip hip hooray!).  It's gonna be church, brunch (the usual), and we'll probably just play it by ear. 

We'll probably just stop and smell the flowers. LOVELY!

Hell yeah!!!

Last snowboarding weekend

SUGAR BOWL

North Tahoe, CA

April 21, 2007

Sh*tty Day

My international license is expiring on April 23 (yes, I am still driving with it...DMV acknowledged it and extended it when I perfected my written test). But crazy chicken nugget! I FAILED my behind-the-wheel test yesterday because I "drifted" to the left lane without looking over my shoulder.  The examiner said I wasn't looking over my shoulder good enough.  Alright, I don't want to go through the horrible details.  I may not be the best driver in the world, but I have been doing it for years. But yeah, my bad.  It's the bad driving habits I brought here from Philippines...finally getting me in trouble... You, EDSA traffic, you!!!

There we go, announcing it to the whole world!  I'm not embarassed.  I actually think it's funny.  It was disappointing though.  But well, there's always a next time.  I'm sure I'll do better on that next one (but I know myself, sometimes, I can get very nervous deep down inside but I'm as calm as the sunset...and you can't really tell because my soul just short of flies away from the situation, just like that)...I guess that explains why the examiner said I "drifted".  And I...for the life of me, can't remember how it happened until now.  Drifted. Perfect word for me.  I always drift away. My friends tell me I need some "touch therapy".  Take it literally...TOUCH ME = So I zoom back to the moment.  LOL.

Well, speaking of therapy. After work, I went to this craft store called Beverly's to buy some easy cross stitch patterns.  Just a little bit of something to shake it all off my system.  I got me hooked back into it now.  I'll show you my work next time.

Then I cooked afritada for dinner, which my hubby says is a winner, next to my kare-kare. Or my adobo that is totally off the hook. 

I'm drifting...

Driving for me is easy.  But I wish the test per se is as easy as cooking.  Or as relaxed as cross-stitching.  Or that any of those will help me get a license fast. Suddenly, I missed Philippines.  You can even get a license in absencia...is that good or what. *SIGH*

One Hundred Thoughts

        100 posts.  100 blogs.  100 entries since I hopped unto this craze on November 2005.  On the funny side, I have proven to myself that I possess a certain degree of verbal diarrhea.  On a more serious note, I am happy to have chronicled the highs and lows and all the Funny-or-senseless-Hilarious-or-poignant-Sometimes-occasionally-sinister-well-I'm-only-human-or-The-Ridiculously-mundane-or-Clearly-insightful-In-betweens of MY LIFE.  This has been "me" for the past year and a half.  Perhaps, not all of me, but at least snippets of me.  Like giant icebergs, there is still so much underneath the vast ocean that has been left unsaid. Perhaps waiting to surface in the future. A window to peek into my heart, nonetheless.




        I'm celebrating it all today on my one hundredth blog...the past one and a half years of my life...coming back to me one recollection at a time, like snapshots taken from a moving train.




        All I can say is, I want to give myself a pat on the back.  I'm not sure if I have done a good job or not (how can one tell anyway? what's the official criteria for doing a good job in your life, in a no-two-lives-are-alike world? ) but all I know is, I still want to give myself this pat on the back.    So many things have happened to me in a span of one year and a half.  In March last year, I went to Rome, Italy on this grand family trip. I saw the Pope three times! It was a great travel experience with my family and relatives, and shall I say, a second honeymoon with Aldred.  July, I migrated to USA, left my dear parents, family and most of my treasured friends behind. I've finally started a life with my husband, went through a very difficult pregnancy and nevertheless rejoiced about it, lost the baby delivered stillborn at 21 weeks in November anyway, wept and grieved and tried to move on --this left my heart a scar, no, the wound is still a little fresh.  (They say you grow up more when you are able to take care of different things for a child, like coordinate for a christening or a birthday party --just imagine  how far this took me when just after I delivered, my husband and I had to prepare for a cremation and a memorial service!)...Then I tried to immense myself into the new routine that living here in the US requires...mostly being on my own to accomplish even the most minute of tasks, driving around (no driver to chauffeur me around when I need to pick up something from a store -- I miss you, Mang Romy!!!), getting lost (the GPS navigator is now my best buddy of them all), and following a barrage of new rules while bending the old habits (I didn't say bad) that thirty-three years of living in the Philippines has formed. I willingly adjusted to other standards as well, such as in social functions, events and seasons, and readily braved the cold winter nights (and mornings). I embarked into an ardous jobhunt, finding out that all my years of achieving and excelling in the past don't really count in some instances because a US job experience tucked under my belt, no matter how small, is what some people fish for.  I found a job anyway (not exactly the teaching job I was hoping for --- yes, I still see and hear little kids giggling in my sleep), but this corporate desk job actually pays more and I enjoy it just the same.  I am so lucky that Fred (the President) decided to trust me and the skills and experience I only blabbered about in the interview, short of plucking them all out from thin air, except that I was actually telling the truth.  But they have no immediate way of proving that. I just have to prove myself now. I'm the only Filipino in my department, and in a job that capitalizes on good oral and written communication skills.  I know I speak English well.  But it is not my mother tongue.  I still have slips.  Lots of it.  And so I try to watch my back.  Some days, all things in general are just hard.  But most days now, things are getting better and better. 




        I'm proud that I have cruised through.  I am still in one piece. But wait, what am I so proud of? My life may be nothing compared to other people's tearjerker sagas that inspire drama soap operas.  Or maybe I am just really blessed with some degree of resiliency. I don't get affected right away. Not enough tears at times.  I'm not even that homesick yet. Plus, in crucial sink or swim encounters, I am not scared to dive right into it.  So I just do.  I'm a good warrior, I guess. Most days, I’m quite a tough cookie.  Some days though, I feel like a duck floating serenely on the water.  It looks so calm yet the feet are paddling wildly underneath. I just soldier on.


          All the water in the world could never shink a ship unless it gets inside.


        This is what I'm really proud of.  This optimism about life in general.  Just rolling along with the wave, adjusting my sails to the wind, and most importantly, believing like a little child that there will always ALWAYS be a silver lining behind every cloud.  And that no situation really ever lasts forever.  Each day always bears new surprises.  That's what makes the world turn, that's what makes our life story worth reading, from one page to the next. And so I always hang on.  I always live everyday with this faith. Til the next hill, or the next valley.


        Life is good.  Just appreciate the beauty of each small thing every minute.  Or each big thing that comes your way.  I have always thought of myself as having a mature outlook.  But looking back to the past year or so, I feel I have grown a lot more still.  No, I didn't get older. Just smarter, stronger and perhaps, a lot wiser.  More mature in coping especially in times of adversity. But perhaps a lot more younger even, and as childlike as can be in enjoying every wonderful moment that comes.         


         No one ever really stops growing up. And...


         One can really keep growing up, and get younger at the same time too.


                The other day, I came home to find mallard ducks lounging on the front yard.  Aldred and I fed them together until the sun went down.  Yesterday, he bought me a remote control helicopter that actually flies! We spent all night flying it around in the bedroom. I'm happy with how life has been treating me.  And how I am treating life. 


       Your life, almost always, is what you give back to it. 


        God has been so good (Thank you, Lord!) I know there's still a lot more changes in the future.  Kids, finances, a new house? (and mortgage to think about), coordinating household schedules, chores, health.


        But right now, I'm having fun at work. I was able to stick around in spirit (via telephone lines) until my mom has gotten another clean bill of health.  I can put up with the "unpopular personalities" around that some people warned me about, without a shudder. I am doing well in this whole wifey thing to my spouse.  And hopefully to this whole mommy thing to my stepdaughter (who is with us on holidays and school breaks).  I drink wine, laugh and hang out with my stepdaughter's mom, which I actually enjoy. I can drive around now without cops scaring the *beep* out of me.  Most of all, I gave birth to an angel son who is now watching over me.


        So, pat on the back it is...








       




       

Laugh Therapy

wow what was that. i was trying to write the title for this blog and had to pause...how do you spell therapy again? hahaha. funny. i seem to have lost my brain for a minute there. just thinking out loud...anyway...okay, it's friday tomorrow! it's officially my second week as a bona fide tax payer...LOL. and i'm getting my first paycheck too! woohoo!!! work has been really great! and challenging.  i'm still under training, and trying to digest all of the software ins and outs on the job (that, i must admit is a breeze...) the hard part is...trying to drink up all of these biochemistry con medical thingamajigs behind each health product our company carries. aaahhh customer support!  pretty modest and self-effacing.  i like it.  the best part is...it's not all service.  it's actually highly cerebral given the nature of our company.  let me refresh my memory...Acetyl-L-Carnitine is the acetyl ester of L-carnitine. It occurs naturally in animal products. Chemically, acetyl-L-carnitine is known as beta-acetoxy-gamma-N, N, N-trimethylaminobutyrate yada yada yada!!! that's good. i'm stimulating my intellect while happily expanding my tree...new skills, new environment, new peeps. hopefully new friends too?

here's some laugh therapy for yah all.  my co-worker sent it today. i don't usually put forwarded emails on my blog...but this one i really just had to share!!!

Ways to Maintain A Healthy Level Of Insanity.


1. At Lunch Time, Sit In Your Parked Car With Sunglasses on and point a Hair Dryer At Passing Cars. See If They Slow Down.

2. Page Yourself Over The Intercom. Don't Disguise Your Voice.

3. Every Time Someone Asks You To Do Something, Ask If They Want Fries with that.

4. Put Your Garbage Can On Your Desk And Label It "In."

5. Put Decaf In The Coffee Maker For 3 Weeks Once Everyone has gotten Over Their Caffeine Addictions, Switch to Espresso.

6. In The Memo Field Of All Your Checks, Write " For Smuggling
Diamonds"

7. Finish All Your sentences! with "In Accordance With The Prophecy."

8. Don't use any punctuation

9. As Often As Possible, Skip Rather Than Walk.

10. Order a Diet Water whenever you go out to eat, with a serious face.

11. Specify That Your Drive-through Order Is "To Go."

12. Sing Along At The Opera.

13. Go To A Poetry Recital And Ask Why The Poems Don't Rhyme?

14. Put Mosquito Netting Around Your Work Area And Play tropical Sounds All Day.

15 Five Days In Advance, Tell Your Friends You Can't Attend Their Party Because You're Not In The Mood.

16. Have Your Co-workers Address You By Your Wrestling Name, Rock Bottom.

17. When The Money Comes Out of The ATM, Scream "I Won!, I Won!"

18. When Leaving The Zoo, Start Running Towards The Parking lot,
Yelling "Run For Your Lives, They're Loose!!"

19. Tell Your Children Over Dinner. "Due To The Economy, We Are Going To Have To Let One Of You Go."

20. And The Final Way To Keep A Healthy Level Of Insanity.......


Send This E-mail To Someone To Make Them Smile.
Its Called .... Therapy

hhhmmmmmm

"How old would you be if you didn't know how old you are?"
- Leroy (Satchel) Paige (1906-1982)

Thank God for Junk...and Eyes!!!

...aside from being confused once in a while what time it was (dst started today and we had to adjust the clocks...and we didn't coordinate who was gonna do which and so we didn't know which clock was telling the truth at one point hahaha!!!)...our day went well. t'was a typical lazy sunday. hub & i went to church, grabbed some breakfast at the diner on webster st. and went on a shopping rampage combing through antique stores and garage sales...this addiction has been going on for a while (talk about being "junkies" in the real sense of the word!)...i got hooked after my first three-drawer wicker stand from craigslist... hahaha...twenty-bucks!  we don't usually buy anything randomly (no, we ain't that cheap, okay), but it gives us a different "high" going through the really good pieces that, shall i say, have silent stories tucked inside them, especially those quaint furniture and woodwork...yummm! we came home with one wicker hope chest (to match my three-drawer wicker set heehee), two books by ernest hemingway, a dollar each (yippy for me!)...a coffeetable book on wines, and an old green glass goblet vase that was screaming "bathroom!" at me...i almost bought the very charming owner's dog that was lounging beside a 750-800 dollar upright stove circa 1917 ("sorry, he's not for sale, but we have a cat you can take home for free")...ooops, no thanks...t'was a fun day...i'm so thankful for that.

...another thing to thank for today...while hub & i were at Tilly's diner, there was this old lady on the table next to us who ordered a lot of food! and i was like...huh? yikes! then i saw her sloppily shaking salt and pepper on her plate and eating bacon and sausage with her hands...feeling the egg and the hashbrown with her hand before poking them with the fork.  then i realized she was blind...i just thought, wow, i can't eat like that. half of the fun is actually seeing the crispy bacon oozing with grease before you pop it into your mouth...and the crunchy browned hashbrown (that's why it's called hashBROWN, silly)...and the steam going up from your cup of coffee...i can't imagine eating without seeing!!! i closed my eyes and experimented. man, it's hard! but well, they say some other senses are heightened when one isn't working.  maybe this old lady can taste it even better! nevertheless, i still won't trade my vision for added taste. i'm already born with msg on my tongue anywayz... so there, i just feel like thanking God for my eyes that see.  there are so many things that are just impossible to appreciate without seeing. let's not take it for granted! like today, i woke up smiling because i saw that hub's eyelashes are curled up again (from pressing too much with the  pillow, it's dunnit again haha)...he looked so gay, and funny...and how about reading, and driving, and blogging, and sketching and watching the sunset? 

...well, thank you, God, for good vision (...and the bacon...and eggs...and hashbrowns...and sausages...and the biscuits and gravy) and yard sales and antique shops...

Downtown

I've been too bored lately. Hecka bored. So I went to the city yesterday. There are so many things I like about going downtown so much.  It keeps me sane.  It's the citygirl in me.  I dress up and go around, window-shopping, people-watching.  There was a phase when going to the city made me feel like a tourist.  The smell of the streets, the aroma of coffee hovering around the little coffee shops, the backdoor kitchen smells of restaurants, the diversity of the people, the hustle and bustle...they have always reminded me of how my senses felt like more than ten years ago when I visited San Francisco for the very first time as a tourist.  Now, I still run after that sensation and headrush sometimes but I don't know if it's a good thing or not, I'm beginning to feel more and more like a local each passing day. I don't take as much pictures anymore. And I ain't lost no more.  I know where my feet will take me.  It's not bad I guess, I still get little surprises here and there anyways.  Beautiful!  Exactly how I like it.

Downtown SF is an escape for me.  I find time for myself, walking by the places I love, enjoying my solitude.  It keeps me together.  I visit my favorite bookstore and linger there for as long as I want. Yesterday, I had Teriyaki Salmon on a bed of garlic mashed potatoes for lunch. The city makes me not think about some hurts, pains and worries. Yesterday, my head was bursting to its seams with thoughts that make one uneasy. There's this job I want so bad and waiting for their callback on my application is an agony. I want to have a job now.  I'm aching to fulfill another purpose soon.  And before boredom begins to claim me as his bestfriend.  And yes, I still think about the baby I lost...it's like a weird skin rash that you hide underneath a shirt, you forget about it until another itch episode catches you offguard.    Then, my small Brady Bunch family is about to embark in a different stage, with my two sisters getting married soon. I'm worried about my parents. And who will be there for them.  I'm so far away.  And they're getting old and sickly.  Just recently, something health-threatening is hanging like a dagger above our heads again. Here it goes again.  I wish I can shut off my thoughts, and feelings. 

That's why downtown SF keeps me sane.  I am able to go away for a while. It's my small means of escape....Until my mom texted me yesterday to ask if she can call.  I made her call my celphone.  I was on the couch in front of Bloomingdale's.  I wanted to talk to her. No, I wanted her to talk to me! She needed that.  I miss her and I love her, and I wish I can be there for her everytime she needs me. Just like how it was before.  No, she's not imposing that I come back.  She's in fact trying her best to pull through without me, or anyone, in her bravest self, knowing that this is how life is...accepting the reality that I have my own life to pursue now and it happens to be thousands of miles away. That rips my heart apart.  I feel so sorry for my mom, and my dad. They did all their best to take care of me. And now, I can't be there for them. But maybe that's how life is.  I don't know! I wish I knew the answers.  My hubby is here. And I like my life here too. And we're starting our own family. Oh I feel that my heart is at two places at one time, or maybe even three.

That's why I use downtown SF to squash these unpleasant feelings down.  Until my mom's call.  I realized you can't really escape from anything.  You can't escape life, because you are life itself. 

PS. Aldred knew I was sad.  He picked me up from the mall after he got off from work, we had a huge garlic crabs and mussels dinner at Stinking Rose.  We downed a pitcher of beer (almost), walked around, we snooped around the condo landslide spot downtown-- scary!  We ran across the busy streets (but not beyond the police tapes), laughed, panted and coughed, and laughed, panted and coughed.  I still love the city. And Aldred.  They keep me sane.

Blog #95 (Woohoo!!!)

I'm not feeling righteous or goodie-goodie or anything...I usually blog to inspire people.  But, I usually blog to inspire myself. Usually, I need something to remind me of the right things...or usually, just a kick in the butt hahaha...like today.

"Clarisms"

i woke up sometime before the break of dawn, it was still dark. i opened my eyes, light-headed.  where am i? ... maybe if i forced myself to sleep again i would know...where am i? it felt like i was trapped in between realms...the subconcious and the conscious, the past and the present, i didn't know where my head was, and my logic was also still trying hard to swim beyond the sea of this mystery to ascertain anything for me. it's like overlapping worlds...perhaps it's the three decades of past behind me, moving from one place to another after a considerably long time. each one having a special place in my heart...where am i? i tried to look up, i saw the roof above me, bathed in faint light, then i gazed to the wall on my left, also illuminated by the same soothing glow, coming from a tiny grain that seemed so grand in the dark.  ahh, this is my old room when i was a child, the old house i grew up in. i can almost smell it.  i was just waiting for the whiff from the burning gas lamp that the maids would sometimes prepare for us when the weather's bad, or when the light is out around town. it should be sitting on the antique porcelain sink standing proudly in one corner of the room... there is no sink.  no drapes to a dressing room behind it either, but a door in it's place...a bathroom? there is no scent of a lamp burning either. i smelled Downy. am i in our vacation house in Lipa? but i remember that it's pitch black when you wake up in the middle of the night there, and the pregnant silence is always deafening.  so, it's not quite like it.  i shifted my gaze to the right, there is a hint of light streaming into the window. must be from the light post illuminating the alley between the house and the hospital (which, zoning-wise isn't really supposed to be there). i don't see the white curtains that ran the whole length of the wall, instead there are seemingly hypnotic repetitive vertical lines like teeth in a tiny rectangular box...aaah blinds! no big windows i can throw a huge couch from. i'm under the sheets, but this doesn't feel like my grandmother's heirloom sheets, cool, crisp, and properly starched, aged but comforting with her initials intricately embroidered on each. i closed my eyes again and tried hard to wake up properly.  some parts of my mind were still floating elsewhere in dreamland and it was a struggle collecting each...where was the light coming from? am i going to heaven soon? am i astral-travelling? why is it pulsating? i opened my eyes and slowly figured out that it was coming from this tiny blue dot on the dial of the ionic breeze in the room that says "boost", the green one coming from the digital display of the standby portable heater that says 65 for the moment. then like a strong shake from nowhere jolting me from this circadian rhythm malfunction (i still prefer to call it "short-circuit"), someone wailed a deafening rap song on the morning radio program...someone beside me stirred.  it's aldred.  and he hit snooze on the clock radio. silence... so, this is where i am. it's not lola's old sheets wrapping me for warmth, but some new and really soft 600-thread count egyptian cotton sheets that don't have as much colorful stories to tell yet and yes, the arms of a man i am beginning to weave a story with in this lifetime...wait, why was i so disoriented? is it the flu? the tylenol pm? does that happen to most people who move to a different place? or maybe i'm just beginning to miss home.  the old one, the "other" home.  maybe.

My Starfish

Have you ever heard of The Starfish Story? It's one of my favorites. Just thought I'd share this one today. One of my friends wrote to my Friendster inbox. She thanked me for the blog I wrote a few days back (check out "1000 Places to See Before You Die"). She said it offered her some answers to a few existential questions she had been mulling over for a while. She said it defined some things she was failing to see. That made my heart sing! That blog was about PURPOSE.  And with the message she sent, I felt that somehow I also fulfilled my own purpose. You see, I blog for a reason. And she's my starfish story. (Thanks, "G")

The Starfish Story

adapted from The Star Thrower by Loren Eiseley
1907 - 1977

Once upon a time, there was a wise man who used to go to the ocean to do his writing. He had a habit of walking on the beach before he began his work.

One day, as he was walking along the shore, he looked down the beach and saw a human figure moving like a dancer. He smiled to himself at the thought of someone who would dance to the day, and so, he walked faster to catch up.

As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean.

He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?"

The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean."

"I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man.

To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!"

At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

This story has appeared all over the web in various forms, usually with no credit given to Mr. Eiseley. Sometimes it is a little girl throwing the starfish into the ocean, sometimes a young man, once even an elderly Indian. In any form it is a beautiful story and one that makes you think. Loren Eiseley was a anthropologist who wrote extensively. He was the 'wise man' in the story, and he was walking along a beach after a storm and encountered the fellow throwing the starfish back.

Thanks to http://muttcats.com/starfish.htm

Dancing Queen

Going home last night, hubby played this really great hiphop song in the car and I started dancing in my head. Yes! Dancing in my head. I do that a lot. Can't help it.  I hear dance music and I close my eyes and see myself dancing.  Which of course gives me this crazy little delusion that I'm J-Lo's long lost twin. I mean, well, I do dance. I know how and I have a good sense of rhythm. I can pretty much do a variety of steps and can catch up pretty fast.  I've performed a lot too. I even have this necklace that says "Dancing Queen" (aaah sweet!!!)...Dancing is my happiness. It gives more life to my life! But... this dancing in my head thing? Okay, I can do pirouettes and splits and those back-breaking back bends --IN MY HEAD.  I've got this illusion of me frozen from the past (and one thousand or so pounds ago) when I could still do them. Until I saw myself in the mirror doing the actual thing.  REALITY BITES. Darn. First of all, why did that remind me of Sesame Street's Big Bird dancing to "Sunny Day" - remember that theme song? I like to make fun of myself, but this one is...well, uhm, kind of truthful, y'know! (No wonder hubby sometimes hums the song "Watch it wiggle" from this Jello commercial.) Secondly, I realize I need more floor space for those twirls, space kicks and turns now, so I don't bump into or knock down walls (size and motion...you do the math!). I knew it, I should have taken it seriously when the doctor said that I have my pregnancy weight...without the baby. *SIGH*  I still refuse to let go of the Dancing Queen throne.  And I know dancing in my head won't burn any calories either. It's really time to hit the gymn...(*SIGH* again)

1000 Places to See Before You Die

         Before our Valentine's Dinner, my husband took me to Costplus World Market to kill some time.  He bought me some dark chocolate-coated macadamias and I saw this book as we were checking out, "1000 Places to See Before You Die".  Not that it sent my world careening wildly off its axis, but it did send random thoughts zinging and dinging in and out of my head (I could almost see them swoosh like bullets through the left hemisphere to the right and vice versa, hahaha).

        What is life all about?  Is it living to see how many places one can see in a lifetime? Is it about how much food we can taste?  What are we in this world for? What's the main point, really?  Is it to get married, have kids, send them to college, get old, get sick and then say goodbye? Is it striving hard to build the best looking house ever? Or is it about how many friends one can collect? Or how many cars we can squeeze in our garage? Is it how successful we can become in business or in the workforce? Or how much money we will have in the bank? Or is it how far we can travel or how far we can go? How about those people who seem at peace with having the same thing over and over in the course of their lives, living in the same place forever. Same ol' same ol'.  Are they failures then? What if they are happy anyway?

        I know that life is a gift from God.  He gave us life so that we may experience different things and grow in His love.  But philosophically, how do you confront these questions?

        A million more bore through my head like a rainfall of laserbeams. Usually, it's hard for me to stop the giant snowball of thought from rolling once it gets started.  I tend to stare in space and words would continue to boil inside me.  But I had to stop them.  This was Valentine's night and I had my husband and a great meal to focus on. And must I add, A LOVE TO CELEBRATE.

        Then bingo! I realized it's really time to stop thinking.  My life itself holds the cheat sheet of answers.  I have a funny and caring husband standing in line with me by the cashier of Costplus. We just exchanged Valentine presents at home before going out to dinner.  So...what am I here for? I am a wife above all else! And I am a daughter, I am a mom (to my stepdaughter), and hopefully a future mom to my own kids in the next years to come.  I am a friend, I am a cousin, I am a sister.  Right now, my main priority is to build this relationship, home and family with my loving husband in the most beautiful way we can.  It is different from what used to be my main reason for living --going through college, passing exams, getting that first job.  In the next coming years, things may be different once again.  So forgive me for the cliche, but life really isn't the destination.  It is the journey.  We wake up each day to fulfill what is needed of us or what we want for ourselves each day. For one, it may be traveling the world and seeing a thousand places, visiting more art museums, or taking care of a flock of grandchildren.  For me, I would like to have and raise more kids (go Clarisse, launch wonderful lives into this awesome world!), be there for my parents in their old age (allow me to cross that bridge when I get there), hold my own art exhibit, write my own book, travel with my husband to Hawaii, Paris, Ireland, Spain...and most of all, have a squeaky clean home full of warmth, love and laughter. It surprises me, but I even find fulfillment in each muffin I bake, each tile I scrub, and every basketful of laundry that I fold.  Everything is tailor-made for each one. 

        So yes, as long as we're in pursuit of our own love and happiness and we wake up one day living it until the next goal we set, while making others and the world around us happy as well (or maybe even helping them out to achieve their own thing too!), life is "happening". It is all good.  It is about how happy we can become, given our own personal standards...and most of all, how much love we can give.

         Material things are okay, but remember, the heart is our only purse that we can take with us to heaven.  What do u want to put into that purse?

50 Promises for Marriage

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY, PEEPS!

This blog is dedicated to four special people in my family who are getting "hitched" soon...

My sis Lissa to Roy (2007), my cousin Carlo to Cathy (2007), my cousin Gina to Philip (2008) and my sister Trina to RJ (2008).  This list was given to me a long time ago. Kinda works!  Let me pass it on...

50 PROMISES FOR MARRIAGE

1. Start each day with a kiss.

2. Wear your wedding ring at all times.

3. Date once a week.

4. Accept differences.

5. Be polite.

6. Be gentle.

7. Give gifts.

8. Smile often.

9. Touch.

10. Talk about dreams.

11. Select a song that can be "our song".

12. Give back rubs.

13. Laugh together.

14. Send a card for no reason.

15. Do what the other person wants before he or she asks.

16. Listen.

17. Encourage.

18. Do it his or her way.

19. Know his or her needs.

20. Fix the other person's breakfast.

21. Compliment twice a day.

22.  Call during the day.

23. Slow down.

24. Hold hands.

25. Cuddle.

26. Ask for each other's opinion.

27. Show respect.

28. Welcome the other person home.

29. Look your best.

30. Wink at each other.

31. Celebrate birthdays in a big way.

32. Apologize.

33. Forgive.

34. Set up a romantic getaway.

35. Ask, "What can I do to make you happier?"

36. Be positive.

37. Be kind.

38. Be vulnerable.

39. Respond quickly to the other person's requests.

40. Talk about your love.

41. Remisnisce about your favorite times together.

42. Treat each other's friends and relatives with courtesy.

43. Send flowers every Valentine's Day and anniversary.

44. Admit when wrong.

45. Be sensitive to each other's sexual desires.

46. Pray for each other and pray together daily.

47. Watch sunsets together.

48. Say "I love you" frequently.

49. End the day with a hug.

50. Seek outside help when needed.

I love my Mom!

        It's raining today.  I hate getting my feet wet so after having lunch with my Ate Shelly, she let me stay at her place and wait until she gets off from work.  I made myself busy doing online things - important ones this time.  Aside from trying to figure out how her coffee machine works, I was also busy balancing our checking account and going through each transaction one by one.  Then my phone rang.  It's Mommy.

        I miss my mom. But I feel so bad when she misses me that sometimes when she calls, I tend to think...oh no, is she gonna cry again?  It's as if sometimes it's all my fault that I'm away.  Well, it is really my own doing! But yeah, I have a husband...a family and home to build...my own life story to continue, so I guess that's really how it is at this point in our lives.  If it's something that can't be helped, maybe we should really just take it one day at a time, accepting the situation as it is. For now.

        Sometimes, I'm too busy to text or call her.  I still take time everyday to say hi, with occasional misses though.  I used to call her every other day until she discovered this budget phone card that makes the deal cheaper if she's the one who makes the call.  Now I just wait for her to call, and when she does,  we talk for a long time. Sometimes, with the life here in America, I must admit I tend to think about too many other things while she talks to me --like the stuff on my TO DO list, and other thoughts that come flying about.  Everytime though, something tugs in my heart that says, "Hey, pay attention...That is your mom talking".  This is my mom going through every important detail happening in her life, so excited to share it all with me.  This is my mom walking me through all the colors, scents and textures of everything around her in an effort to let me experience these and catch up on everything despite the distance. 

        Today, she talked about the details of her 50th High School reunion. I was listening to her as I cross-checked each current transaction of my B of A checking account online.  Suffice it to say, I was fading in and out of the conversation. 

        And then she started singing. 

        Her voice sounded low and worn out, probably from practices for her reunion show, or maybe from  fatigue.  It melted my heart.  I completely stopped the other task I was doing and tuned in only on her.  My mom.  She's singing the songs they picked for their reunion program. 

         She was singing them all for me.

        After we hang up, I almost wanted to cry.  I wanted to play the phone conversation over and over in my head and hear her sing once more.  I wish I recorded it.  It sent  me a slow melting realization that from now on, I should cherish each moment with my mom. We have our share of disagreements and emotional episodes. But what mother-daughter relationship doesn't?  No matter what, I will bear in mind that each conversation, no matter how ordinary, is precious.  Each moment with her, priceless.  Moments can be played again, yes. But that is only through our memory...and almost always, it never tastes the same.  Good thing it's not too late yet for me. 

        I love my mom.  And she loves me.  I'll call her again tonight.

Phone Tag

Just funny. One time, my cuz-in-law in LA and I played phone tag all day.  She tried to reach me but I didn't hear my cellphone so I called back and she didn't hear hers, and so she called back. And I didn't hear it again.  This happens to me a lot.  I think I'm now branded as someone who doesn't pick up.  But at least I try to call back right away.  I think that makes a difference.  Well, uhrm uhrm, sometimes it takes time...but that's because I'm flighty.  I have one thousand and one thoughts happening all at the same time inside my head all the time I should tie each one to a string to keep track...But then, it will all be one humongous tangled-up web. LOL.  So, anyways, back to this phone thingy. (I hate it when I say thingy, I'm someone who wants to be more precise with my words...oh well, where was I again???) See.  Well, yesterday, I changed my ringing style after my sister complained about it, just when I was so totally clueless, really!  I changed it back to this freaking RRRRRING-RRRRRRRING with vibrate mode. The classic one.  But my phone only has this irritating high-pitched version.  So, there it is.  This morning, my phone rang.  And I didn't pick it up because I thought it was someone else's mobile ringing. (Actually, for a split second there I thought there was a new house phone installed at home and I was like...how did I not know about that???). Duh!!!  Maybe I should just wear my cellphone around my neck, or better yet, let it hang from one of my earrings...or strap it around my forehead or in between my eyes so I hear every freaking ring. Or maybe super-glue the phone to my palm so it will be some kind of mutant alien siamese twin that goes wherever I go, or washes whatever I wash (LOL)...Do I have to bring it everytime I need to go to the bathroom too? Or should I get a water-proof thingy (thingy, there it goes again...) to bring inside the shower or have a waterproof phone you can flip over to double as a loofa scrubber as well, so I can pick up a call anytime? (Okay now, if that gets invented, remember that I thought about that first!) Or how about a knife with a keypad so I can pick up a call as I slice off some fat from a slab of pork? Down, boy, down, boy, I'm getting too excited now.

How come in the past, when things were much simpler, this was never an issue? Tell me...