Friday, December 30

The New Year is Here!

Only four hours til tomorrow, and then we cook, clean and wait for 2006 to come.

It's my first new year away from my original family...all of them are in Bugasong; at this very minute, they're probably celebrating the grand family reunion. Then tomorrow they'll be celebrating the new year in Cubai. It's our first time apart during the holidays, and though the thought makes me wistful sometimes, I figured, it's never too early to start, huh? The day they left, I was sad. And I was crying. I guess I didn't want to admit I missed them and tried to be a big girl and handle it. But I missed them and I had to allow myself to feel that way, like the little girl I felt I was inside. It was difficult to admit it and grow up at the same time, but when I finally let myself go, I felt better.

In the days that followed, I started feeling nostalgic. I was thinking: so I'm no longer part of those late-night dinner table talks, organically-developed one liners, and private jokes. I really won't be there to hear abouth their days anymore, hear stories about work and school, tell stories of my own.

I know I bitched on some days about living with them still, but when it all comes down to it, it kind of evens out---for all the times you wished you were away from them, you now wish you were never left out of anything once you were away. How funny human nature is. What "God" said on Bruce Almighty last night was right: "Since when did people have any idea about what they want?" You never really know til you finally know.

Then again, they are family, and no one really is left out of a family, are they? No matter how far you've been for how long, you will always find a chair at the table, a place on the couch, a bed to pass the night, loving company that never felt your absence, because in truth, you probably never really were absent from their lives.

Family will always be with you, that's what I realized. You miss the physical presence, you miss seeing them and hearing the stories, but you will always be a part of their lives, everyday, albeit in different ways. It's like, they're taking a group picture and you're not there. But once the photos come out, you'll find a spot where you should have been, where you can stick or superimpose an image of yourself...eventhough you're really not, lest you ruin the photograph.

But the important thing is, you are present in them, as they are in you, this year and all the years thereafter. I apologize for this cathartic expression of separation anxiety. I guess it's normal. I hope this is normal. And I hope to return to normal again soon.

Thank God for Benc, he keeps me balanced.

Happy 2006! Increase the Peace!

Saturday, December 24

Christmas bells are ringing!


May this season of giving and sharing be a memorable one for all of you and your families. Here's to more peace, love and prosperity to everyone around the world this Christmas and in the New Year!

Happy Holidays!


from cnn.com

Wednesday, December 21

What flattery

This site says I have a good chance of being mistaken for Amrita Rao or Zhang Ziyi. Astig! I's still rather look like an Asian celebrity than a Caucasian one. Asians, in my book are really prettier than any other race. hehe

Try the site and leave a comment! Tell me whom you look like! :)

Sunday, December 18

Some wedding preps cheers

To put things in perspective, I decided to let myself write down accomplishments regarding the wedding. Writing it down will allow me to dump everything and step back and assess. And take a deep breath. Like Pia advised, I should enjoy the season before getting tied up in preps again. So here goes:
  1. Accomplished marriage license application. License to be picked up on 27 December.
  2. Wedding and ento gowns are done and are ready for pick-up. Same with MOB and MIL.
  3. Sent out 95% of invites. So far, about 30% have RSVP'ed that they are attending.
  4. Booked hote for preps and billeting.
  5. Will make full payment for the Garden on Tuesday.
  6. Booked mobile.
  7. Booked projector, video, photo, flowers, quartet.
  8. Delegated program to my MOH-sister.
  9. Delegated misalette to my brother and sis-in-law.
  10. Delegated repertoire to my BM-sister.
  11. Contracted supplier for wedding favors.
  12. Finalized wedding cup cake design. Yummy!
  13. Delegated honeymoon planning to Benc.
Hmmm, that's all I remember for now. I have other things scheduled already but they aren't done yet. I'll post them again here when they've been accomplished. Phew!

It'll be exactly 2 months to go tomorrow. :)

Friday, December 16

Christmas Bug

Benc and I were talking this morning about how we weren't feeling the Christmas bug yet. Our officemates echoed the same. It's as if, they said, there wasn't enough time in a day to get all their work done. "Parang laging may hinahabol" I wondered, was I not feeling the bug because I was also busy getting my wedding together and paying off suppliers? Was I missing the excitement because I know I wouldn't have enough money to go shopping for presents for everyone? Maybe I wasn't feeling enthusiastic because we've been busy closing projects and planning our strategies for the following year.

But I think the feeling changed a little while ago when I read Rej's reminiscing piece about the company and our colleagues. It was a nice, warm piece. I think it made me feel good because aside from letting everyone know how much she enjoyed herself working with us, she shared her feelings about each one, acknowledging their contributions to the company and in her own life.

I found this really sweet. I think I haven't been feeling the bug because I've been busy trying to make ends meet all year, and then I feel sad when I wonder if I am doing a good job at it. I guess I just needed to know I was making a difference. And it's funny because this was exactly what Benc was telling me yesterday when I was feeling bad about a little thing that triggered these emotions of unworthiness and uselessness. :)

AH! It's all twisted and convuluted now. I will not attempt to explain and give all of us a headache. Because just remembering it gives me a headache. Oy! I want to dump my brain, mix it up, fluff it up, then put it back in my head. Tila kailangan ng konting pagpag, para lang umayos ako ng konti. Hehe

At least I'm on my way to feeling a little cheer. Thank goodness. I know I'm getting old, but I'm no Scrooge. :)

Thursday, December 15

Sick of it!

I get so pissed off lately that there are moments when my brain turns violent and images of myself laughing hysterically and triumphantly while brandishing scalped clumps of, er, scalp and hair. There are also times when I see myself purposely stepping in between elevator doors so that I can get caught in them and squeeze myself to death. Unfortunately the elevators in this office are too smart: they don't close as long as they sense a blockage between doors.

I am turned into bridezilla and simultaneously succumbed to a meltdown before lunch today. This, after a successful appointment at city hall and a satisfactory wedding cake prototype yesterday.

Okay, answer me this:

1. How am I supposed to react when a supplier whom I have been dutifully reminding to cash our dp check texts me late at night to all of a sudden ask for a full payment by tomorrow?! This, when all year, they were reassuring me everything is fine and will be taken care of and there's no need to worry and in fact our payment came so early and we can make the balance payment on the wedding day. We actually gave the downpayment ten months ago. They forget to cash the check and when the partner follows up the balance, the liaison texts me just so that it can be truthfully said that I have been reminded. But in fact the dp check is stale and they all of a sudden want the full amount! And now this liaison puts us in a bind! Tell me, wouldn't you want some skinning to happen?!

2. How am I suppsed to react when I am told I was WRONG in mailing the invitations to my sponsors...sponsors whom we are very close to anyway and in fact confirm everything by text and email, sponsors who are so busy sometimes they hardly even have time to answer text messages. People who are difficult to schedule meetings with, let alone leisurely lunches. Just like us? People whom we agreed to meet with naman prior to the wedding. Tell me, don't you wish your head was caught in an elevator?

Well, maybe not. But sometimes I wish it was, just so there was some physical manifestation of the pain and that if I can cure that manifestation, somehow I'd be convinced that I was curing my mental and emotional pain as well.

Oh bummer. All right. Call it an excuse. Whatever. I'm just so sick of trying to please everyone and I end up hurting myself instead.

I wish I was swimming in Boracay right now.

Monday, December 5

Remembering Lola

Lola worked well with her hands. She was a great cook--everything from her sumptuous chicken pastel to her devilled eggs and fruit cake, down to her yummy pastries and cookies. She was a green thumb as well, tilling the soil in her garden to make macopa trees and aratiles trees grow and bear fruit. Her orchids were abloom all year round and I remember how she loved to tinker with the charcoal and spray the blossoms. Her hands would be filthy and her clothes and face smuged, but she was happiest at those times.

But what I remember most about Lola was that she loved crafts. I remember going up to her and lolo’s room in Marikina and poking around in her stuff: felt cloth, sequins, googly eye-buttons, pretty contact paper, swatches of plain and printed cloth different sizes of scissors and bobby pins, bobbins of colored thread and bottles and bottles of elmer’s glue. I loved the way her work area looked. It was busy. Lots of retaso strewn on the wooden floor; segments wayward string and thread floating in every direction as the wind from her window blew. I remember how Lola would sit straight in her chair, working on a new project. Then she’d look up at me and smile as I walked in the door and ask what she was doing.

She was skilled with pattern and color and texture. I remember the beautiful doll houses she decorated one season. I was enamored with all the miniature furniture she so deftly put in place in the different rooms of the house. It was almost magical: rocking chairs, tv sets, china cabinets, beds, dining sets. She would even paint the house herself and give these away as Christmas gifts to her grandchildren.

Lola made candles too. The kitchen of her house in Marikina would be cluttered with tin molds and crayons. She used these to make different color variations. She would buy the Crayola brands and pick out the ones she needed for her current project. The leftovers she gave to me and my brother to draw with. I loved watching her create magic with her scented candles too. She introduced me to the lemon, lavender and vanilla scents she would mix and leave to set at the back of the house. She loved talking about the bleeding candle the most. Apparently, once lighted, the candle would leak out red wax even though the outside was a different color. I don’t know if she ever got around to doing that.

I remember the grand Christmas tree she put up, complete with snow. Yes, snow made from Perla soap. She’d be elbow deep in basins of these, mixing forming salts and whatnot to keep the suds’ shapes then she’d slop them onto the boughs of the plastic tree, decorate it with more silver icicles and acorns she “frosted” herself. And it was fabulous! It was something straight out of Narnia’s winter wonderland. I believe she made it so not only because she was talented, but because she knew this was where all her kids and grandkids would gather on Christmas Day.

In between those suds and icicles were stuffed angels. They would be decked out in cheerful Christmas patterns in green and red and gold. They had felt wings and wore aprons. Some bore choir books and were posed to belt out Christmas hymns. Trills of felt cloth accented their aprons and suits. As I ran my fingers over them as a child, I thought, I wish I could make dolls like these. I wish I could create angels like these. I wish Lola would teach me these when I was old enough to hold a big pair of pinking shears.

Sadly, Lola never got around to teaching me. I don’t recall now if it was because she left to live with one of my aunt or uncles, or because she traveled and lived in New York for several years, or if she simply lost interest. Lola never got to teach me because I grew up as well, and was preoccupied with puberty and all the issues that came with it. During that time, Andrei and I would go up to her deserted workroom and play treasure hunt, going through the wooden drawers of her old sewing machine.

I regret now not pushing myself to make Lola kulit to teach me, especially when she came back from the States and lived with us again in Marikina. (This time, it was not only my brother and I, but myself, andrei, denise, thea, and later on, Monique.) I regret not asking after her stuff and committing only to memory the disjointed images of the candle-making processes she so meticulously performed. How ironic that I have those memories but can make nothing of them while she has all the knowledge and wisdom but no memory of it, not even of who I am. When we found out Lola had Alzheimer’s it was as if something in me tried desperately to reach out to hold on to her, but didn’t know how to get to her. I don’t know if it was guilt that held me back, because I hadn’t spoken to her in a long time; or if it was because I was busy trying to cope with particular crises in my life then.

In short I regret not spending more time with her when I know I should have. I hate these thoughts because they only always come at the end of memory and the beginning of guilt. So many should-haves should’ve been heeded. But then what good will it do to dwell on these? I comfort myself with the thought that though there hasn’t been a Lola-made tree for so long, she still managed to bring us all together if only for a final farewell. And it is at this time, I wish to say all the things I should have told her then.

Things like, how I thought it was wonderful Lola, that we both loved the mysticism of astrology and that we were both Taureans. We were both Paulinians too and I took pride in the fact that I was a third-generation Paulinian like my Lola and my aunts. I want to tell you that I love gardens and flowers like you do, but I like tulips better than orchids and daisies brighten my day the way roses do for you. I like sitting in the sunlight the way you used to when you walked in the garden in Marikina or watered the plants in your bikini top and a batik tapis. I love color too, the way you did, though my favorite color is red---what was yours? I never really got to ask.

And most of all Lola, I am proud to tell you that I believe I did inherit your love for crafts. I discovered my aptitude and interest for it when I was in high school, and knowing that my mom wasn’t into it as much, I had to conclude that I got this skill and talent from you. And I’m proud to say that. It has given me comfort and a medium of expression. It has given me a way to remember you and all the beautiful things you made for us. And it’s such a wonderful gift. I may never have gotten the pretty doll houses you made for Christmas, but I think I got something infinitely more---and it is something I will always have: a piece of you, your spirit, your beauty, your talent. And with every project finished, every fancy gift wrapping done, every scrapbook and stuffed doll created will be a tribute to you. An expression of my love to you for all the moments spent together and all the memories I keep with me.

Thank you for your gift Lola. I love you and I will miss you.

Friday, December 2

Mercedes's Swan Song

Tonight, at around past 6 pm my Lola Edeng sang herself to sleep. It's an eternal sleep, and no song from me, my dad or his siblings, from anyone, will ever wake her again, ever.

So there's a cold dirge whistling through my heart. I only wish she did not feel alone when she left. especially since she had no memories left of us to take with her. I comfort myself with the thought that perhaps, as she took her last breath to sing, it was a happy song from her childhood that she pulled from somewhere deep within her memory.

It may have been the one memory she had left. And I'm glad she held on to it as she passed. I will hold on to my memories of her now, and try to remember the songs she sang as I bid her goodbye.


Monday, November 28

Today's a Holiday for you


Not me. I'm stuck here, in this painfully symmetrical, heirarchical empire on Ortigas avenue. The thing about this place is that, it only recognizes 10 official Philippine holidays. On the day itself. So while the rest of the country is tucked away in bed on this cool and foggy day, I'm at my office computer trying to concentrate on getting things done.

Oh well.

At least we'll have the mall to ourselves on Wednesday! ehehehe

Saturday, November 26

The Old Art Student

Neil Buchanan just finished his art attack on a blank blue wall. He painted a gaggle (?) of flamingos with long easy strokes of pink, white and black. They were majestic looking things, at least two heads taller than he was. And I'm thinking, how the hell does he do it? First it's flamingos and now he's doing loops and squiggles to make a frame for photos. How ingenious! I wish I could do stuff like that. How wonderful to be able to work with all that paint and color and paper and pens and glue! And to come up with all that stuff! SO effortlessly at that.

I don't think I need to learn to do the fine art stuff---I want to do the everyday stuff, the way he does, where things you didn't think could be artsy can actually be transformed into something grand! Like this: he just painted onto a coffee-stained dish cloth to make it look like an old-fashioned masterpiece. I like that. Everyday things cen become awesome works of art. Plus they're really easy to do and relate to! Art for the masses, ja?

He should put up a school to teach people his craft. I'd be one of the first to sign up! I want to do me own art attack and try it meself!

Thursday, November 24

Deep breath, deep dreaming


sea_feet
Originally uploaded by Data P. Tolentino.
Aaaaahhh...

What I wouldn't give for a weekend in Boracay. Lord knows we all could use a weekend away.

Monday, November 21

What I don't need

is more stress. And hurt feelings. And implications that I suck at friendship.

Maybe someday, if I don't have to work at a 9-7 job and several rackets weekly, prepare for a wedding, and support my family every month, I'll have a bit more time again.

I had time and understanding naman for my friends before. I was hoping those times would merit some understanding for my situation at a time when I need it most.


Like now. It hurts me so much to realize that sometimes you can't have even a little.

*sigh*

Thursday, November 10

Post post

I realized you will always be able to count on your mom.

I take after her in terms of being high-strung and obsessive-compulsive about details...which sometimes turn out to be of no real consequence. My being a worrier is also a trait I inherited from her. And these are the reasons she decided, at the beginning of wedding preps, to disassociate herself from the nitty-gritties. We both decided unanimously that, because we were alike in these aspects, we'd probably blow the roof off our house arguing.

Once the preps were underway, I would consult her about a thing or two, especially regarding protocols and all that jazz; asked some opinions on color and style for the dresses. But besides that, she and I decided she should not involve herself in some decision-making points like, the menu, the color schemes, what the invites should look like. Anyway, I thought, I didn't want to stress her out. And besides, I had a group of volunteer organizers whom I trusted. Plus my suppliers seem easy to talk to.

But when shit hit the fan, and I suddely realized some of the people I counted on could not deliver the way I expected them too, she magically appeared, with everything these organizers were supposed to accomplish, neatly done. And I was so happy, deep inside to know that, all this time she was keeping an eye and an ear out for me. But then I guess that's what mothers really do. It's instinct.

So now I go to her more that I do other people, which was what I should have done from the beginning. How could I have doubted the things she could do for me, and how well she could keep her cool amidst everything.

Looking back, I realized, I did consult her anyway about all the things that mattered: whom to invite, which stylist I should get, which MUA, which church, venue, and even which favor should be given away. I even showed her the invite's final design--and the revisions were according to her comments.

Haha. Amazing how sometimes we do things without thinking. It's easier that way. ANd going to mom for help was the easiest and most non-thinkingest thing to do! :)

Wednesday, November 9

Just to Post

Just so everyone knows I'm ok, here:

:-D

I'm touched that so many are concerned about my seesawing moods. Hehe, sorry about that. I guess I am just rather melodramatic. I apologize. It really just comes and goes. I'm lucky Bubba has learned to deal with these. If not, there wouldn't be a wedding to talk about!

There are times lang that I wish I could just wave a magic wand and everything would be in its proper place. I don't mind the preps per se. In fact, I enjoy preps---I just get so disheartened when the suppliers are not supportive and professional, or when people don't make good on their promises. Hay. Oh well. We have to accept that the world is not always smooth sailing.

But things are looking up. Will post more updates tomorrow.

Thursday, November 3

Mold

There are days
when I wonder

if I was
really
meant to be here.

Tuesday, November 1

Random Twenty

Because Mik tagged me, here it is (I feel bad because i still haven't gotten around to answering Rhona's tag! Will get to it, promise!).

1. I am in love with the most brilliant man I've ever known, and we are getting married!
2. I am a frustrated photographer.
3. I love to cook.
4. I flunked Math 1 and had to take removals.
5. I am very self-critical.
6. I love dressing up.
7. I love shopping.
8. I want to live in Australia.
9. I am a fan of children's literature and want to write for that genre someday.
10. I am a frustrated athlete.
11. This is the first time I loved alone.
12. I've finished two marathons.
13. I've won international awards for children's media.
14. I learned how to be a techie because of Bubba.
15. I used to be a fan of Menudo and New Kids on the Block.
16. I have three stylish sisters and a body builder of a brother.
17. I love the beach but I'm afraid of deep water.
18. I am a paper, pen and notebook fanatic.
19. Shoe shops usually only have one last pair of any shoe in my size.
20. I am a hopeless romantic.

I tag you now: Rhona, Glo, Grace, Donna, Rej :D heehee

Thoughts

i'm afraid of molds. i'm paranoid that i might breathe in so much that it'll eat up my face. this dang apartment is moist...or maybe it;s my fault that it doesn't get sufficient airing. that's why the moisture gets trapped. i'm paranoid that my clothes are filled with them. ugh! mental note: research how to get rid of molds.
=========
bottomline is i need to spend more time here. which is why i scheduled a strategic leave next week to do just that. so that i can really feel the pulse of this place. i don;t know my own neighborhood. a lot of my stuff's still unorganized and stuck inside other containers, GATHERING MOLD! damn!

i also want to sort through my stuff and buy frames so i can hang them around here. so it looks lived-in. but they'll have to be compatible with what will happen in renaissance. or should i be even making that a concern right now?
==========
having said that. i wonder what i'll do with my old stuff in tandang sora? i should start sorting through them and tidying up, discarding stuff and sorting through stuff i will want to bring with me. maybe i can do that over the christmas holidays. or new year, while everyone else will be in bugasong for the new year.

i won't be going. i have to stay put. more out of the cosmic considerations than money, really. and i feel comfortable that way actually. but i will miss everyone.
========
gad, i feel as if there are fibers growing inside my nostrils!
========
i feel the changes. though they're still quite far from happening yet, i can feel them. nothing will be the same, and though i do feel a twinge of guilt (where there should be none really) i think it's time we all experienced it. we've been too comfortable, sometimes too complacent, for so long. it's time we get a jolt.

i know i will miss them all so terribly. this is the part they never talk about. this is the part that never gets shown in the movies or the part you never read about in books. but someone has to talk about it. or else we'll all think it;s an easy road to take. when in reality, it;s one of the most difficult transitions.

well, for me anyway. i guess i was one of the lucky ones who had so many loving people around me growing up. i wish that for all those reading this, for all those about to have families of their own...that the children are constantly surrounded by people who will love and care for them and will never hurt them.

i will miss them, and there are times, like now, when i feel i want to take them all with me. but that's not the way it works. you have to cut off a grown branch from a tree for it to grow more foliage. then you graft that cut-off branch to make a new tree. you can't take the old tree with you. but can be planted very nearby, where its arms will easily reach out to the other in shade and comfort and love.

i guess the reason no one ever talked about this part is because it was so difficult to explain. and though there may have been some who tried, they probably never finished because they couldn't continue through all the tears as they poured their hearts out.

that's how hard it is.
========
i found a yoga center that's cheaper than those around the ortigas area, and in the gyms. i have to call them tomorrow. The Yoga Maamo center has been around since 1967 in SIkatuna VIllage! Imagine that! They mentioned they can hold special sessions in other venues. Astig! I can't wait!
========
i need to go to the gym. haven't been back in almost two months. which is bad, because i'm throwing money away. i can't seem to get a good rhythm for my gym time. i feel like i just want to be with baby in my activities. knowing he's there waiting always makes me think twice. i know it shouldn't but, i end up always with a reason for not going. darn. but when i do get to do gym, i find i still enjoy it.

sigh. what to do?
========
i have a headache. i wonder if it's from thinking too much. maybe. i think.

Friday, October 21

And I thought my color was Red

Your Power Color Is Teal

At Your Highest:

You feel accomplished and optimistic about the future.

At Your Lowest:

You feel in a slump and lack creativity.

In Love:

You tend to be many people's ideal partner.

How You're Attractive:

You make people feel confident and accepted.

Your Eternal Question:

"What Impression Am I Giving?"

Wednesday, October 19

October 18, 2005

i've been feeling overwhelmed since this morning. at least i hope that's the real reason why i've been crying my eyes out and residual emotions of loss and sorrow choke me.

what a difference a tiny gesture makes. all it took was one text from my brother, a call from me, and a moment of decision. what a world of difference it made for Rej and her family. and i had a hand in it, and i am overwhelmed by the play of chance and coincidence and luck and connection. it was not by chance then, long ago, that ANdrei and Rej's sister became best friends nearly 8 yeasrs ago. it's not by chance I met Rej through Oneal a few years ago. That she works with us now, that we have similar family situations, that i received that text message and I made that call.

i'm overwhelmed because i am also thinking of the what ifs: what if my cell phone decided to conk out on me just then? what if my brother decided not to text me? what if i didn't hear my message alert? worse, what if i did hear it, but didn't bother to read it til much later, when it was too late?

i guess i am also empathizing with their loss. i remembered my own dad, and what i'd do if i was in Rej's shoes. what would i do? what if i wasn't as lucky as Rej and didn't have the same connections? where would i be? would i be within reach? would i be able to do something? would i get the chance to say i loved him?

we meet so many people by chance and coincidence. but are we a part of our families by chance as well? who would've known a random sperm and egg cell would form to become me? Who would've known I would become me today? Is it all by chance? Or is there a plan? Was there a plan for me to be part of the family I'm in now, or is that also a coincidence?

In all this randomness, suddenly a path appears. It's the decision I guess, whether to step on the path or not, that decides the significance of all that is to happen next.

I swallowed back my tears as Rej knelt at the pews and said the prayer for the dead...a rather horrid and morbid prayer if you ask me, for a bereaved family sending off a loved one to a supposedly better place. But Rej read it out loud, trying to keep her back straight, her voice steady, her tone strong. And I looked at the rest of their family kneeling at the foot of the decision a higher power has bestowed on them. But facing, nonetheless, the painful reality before them. Together. As a family. Solid. One.

And I realized this is what I promise not to miss, no matter where life takes me, to be one with my family, to be PART of a family---the one I was born with and the one I am creating. This is really all that matters, isn't it? These are the connections that matter. Through coincidences and chance and luck a family's bonds will reach far beyond these and find you, no matter where you are, as long as you are one. Rej's dad found that through my brother and me. Then he found his way to Rej. And when it most counted, they were a complete family.

And because of that i feel inextricably linked to these people for the rest of my life. And I feel they have become a part of my family. And it wasn't by chance.

Hair we go!

Your Hair Should Be White

Classy, stylish, and eloquent.
You've got a way about you that floors everyone you meet.

Friday, October 14

I am not a magpie

I don't like repeating myself. I don't want to have to constantly remind someone about a particular task s/he has to do. Because in my opinion, if that person saw that it was important to me (and more often than not, I explain how important it is to me) and if I was indeed important to that person, then s/he would have done it without me having to repeat myself.

I find it difficult to keep reminding sometimes. Especially when it;s a personal task or activity for me. A business task is ok. I understand that. But when it's personal, I honestly feel offended if I have to keep reminding someone to do something for me. I feel offended, and I feel offended for the person being asked. I don't know why. Call that extreme. I don't care. I just don't like repeating myself.

Later on the repetition gives way to disappointment. So I end up doing things myself. And I end up thinking I am not that important to other people if I constantly have to repeat these personal requests. My requests are therefore not important. I am not important. And I am the least of their priorities, no matter how much they assure me otherwise.

This sucks.

Lolo Julit's Pockets

As benc reached in his pockets to add some coins to the tip he was giving our waiter tonight, I suddenly rememberred Lolo Julit.

I remembered him when I was a little girl, when he came around to the house. I remembered how he smelled cleanly of aftershave and cologne and tobacco, and that old, comforting leathery smell that most lolos have.


Before he'd leave he'd give my brother and I the "lolo kiss". We called it that becasue he was the only one who kissed us like that--on both cheeks, as if breathing us in, as if bringing our essences with him when he left. Afterwards he'd pat the pockets of his pants for us to hear--were there tinkling, jangling coins in there, or were they just his keys? Then he'd reach in and pull out some coins. He'd offer them to me and my brother, sort of like a parting present.

We'd look forward to that each time. In fact we'd pat his pockets sometimes before he did. i remember asking one time, "Lolo, you have coins pa?" and sometimes he'd reply, "Ay, walang pera si loo pangga, eh."

And as Benc left a tip for the waiter, I wondered, how much did Lolo give up when he gave us his coins? Lord knows five pesos bought so much more then than today. Any self-respecting waiter would probably even throw the 5-peso tip back at you. But in those days, for Lolo, one peso would've meant a lot. I wonder what he gave up: his daily coke? five sticks of cigarette? his merienda? his jeepney fare home?

That was so long ago. But i'm glad i remembered him. I'm sure he would've been beside himself with excitement if he was here today, helping me prepare my wedding. It probably would've been the talk of the town in Bugasong! The works! The frills! The papparazzi!

:-D hahaha That also meant there would be more people to invite! But really, it would've been just as grand if he was simply there on my wedding day.

I miss my lolo.

Sunday, October 9

My other Home

i can hear my sister deftly strum her guitar and make full, poignant music. the neighbor's water tank is overflowing again--i can hear the water pouring outside my window. i'll be willing to bet there'll be puddles of water on our side of the bakod tomorrow morning.

the night is deep, the air in my room is mildewy and the citizens of this old baranggay are wide awake.

these are the familiar things that keep me secure, deep inside, no matter how ferociously I try to fight the truth, tear myself away from them and assert my independence. they're the reason why I can set out...so I can come back.

and I know this place will always be where it is, no matter how far I've travelled or how much I've forgotten of how it looks like. by instinct, I will know how to return. it's like there's this gargantuan, invisible magnet that will always pull me back here to rest, rejuvenate, ask for help or even regress.

i came back tonight, like i do every week, to make my presence felt. i came back though, to also ask for help in making the covers for my invites. what would have taken my half a day to do alone, we finished in two hours. "We" were myself and my sisters Denise and Thea. i came back with these materials with a picture in my mind of us working together late at night. and it happened.

well, i knew it would. because i knew they'd be there.

it's that easy. and it's the way things like this should be, because in truth, they are a part of you, and no matter how hard you try to pull away, or how far you want to go you will always find yourself looking to this well first for opinion, inspiration, assistance, companionship. i know that for me, this is what it is.

i will always look to them for grounding. when the world tilts, they will remain stable. and they will help me regain balance. it is here i can find the other weight to even out the scale. and though i keep telling myself it's such a hassle to keep coming back here, i find that deep inside i am convinced to go. some invisible force will always bind us.

we don't ever admit it, but we know it's there, pulling us together. and no matter what time of night, what the condition of the world is or how we have grown, those bonds will assure us we'll always have somewhere to go home to.

Tuesday, October 4

Booboos

It's raining again. And it's cold.

And I think I let a friend down. R E A L L Y D O W N.



:(

==========

Tiny little wedding update: bagged a projector supplier already thanks to the very sweet Velvet Dacanay-San Diego. Thanks, sis!

*sigh* bed weather makes me lethargic.

Thursday, September 29

i know i'll be ok

for some reason, i feel like it's been a very. long. month.

i don't know if the fatigue is coming from work, from planning the wedding, from trying to deal with the stress dumping at home and how i feel like i'm always the one left to resolve it.
but it feels like September does not want to end. eventhough tomorrow is the last day of the month.

my chinese horoscope said this quarter of the year will be particularly shitty for me. i don't know if i believed the crap in the first place and willed a self-fulfilling prophecy. or if the lords of antiquity really were able to calculate that a 30-year old working in IT in the 21st century was going to have a shitty third quarter in the year two thousand and five.

*sigh*

i'm so tired. i've been sighing deeply for the last thirty minutes, been staring at the computer monitor for the last four hours, been obsessing about the stresses in my brain for the last 28 days.

sometimes life's like that i guess.

i'm still thankful for the little things: that i can still see, walk, talk, hold my coffee cup, feel a reassuring embrace, smile, speak, write.

when you take a few minutes to remember these things, a whiff of cloud lifts, however tiny.

and that's yet another thing to be thankful for. internal cloudbusting, if you will. hehe

:D

Saturday, September 24

Show don't Tell

Those are the by-words of every self-respecting broadcast segment producer. That's what Cheche always told us. "Why deliver a message with a thousand words when you can do it with one picture?"

Well, Ninang Cheche, that's because I have NO TIME to take pictures. Because my time is spent trying to make a living. And it is killing me! Add to that the fact that my plans to buy my own digital SLR have been put on hold. I know I should post more photos on my blog. I wish I had more time to take photos of my preps like Glo does and post them here. I haven't even posted photos of my apartment! Naunahan pa ako ni Grace na nasa Bermuda.

Sigh.

Oh well. With that admission I guess comes resolution. Okay, I'll start, one at a time. Little by little until it becomes as habitual as brushing my teeth. I really should make time for my photography. I can't believe I let Manila, my Manila pass me by. I suck.

I wish I took a picture of the wet Manila streets and the hazy horizons the way they were today. It was absolute bed weather, and it was such a struggle, trying to fight the urge to stay home and skip class. It was an exhausting fight, but I'm glad I persevered. It was good to be out on my own for a few hours. But I always miss Bubba when he's not a few meters away. And he says he feels the same way too. I wonder if all engaged couples feel this way. I hope they do. It's a lovely thing. :)

Oh! Update: we were able to get the handmade paper and raffia needed for the invites! How exciting. :) I can't wait to start assembling the stuff! Also, Nikko, my other MOH, had her fitting today. She says everything's ok, and that she desperately wants to lose more weight to look good in the dress. Hahahah. How sweet. She looks great as she is really.

What else? All I have to do now is follow up the Pina for Benc and look for a good tailor. But that's rather easy. Benc's not that picky naman. I'm the one who's picky :D

But in all, looks like everything's pretty much in place. Just a few tweaks left (re: the cake and the caterer and the mobile.) Sigh. Nearly there. Five months to go!

Friday, September 16

Francis Ford Coppola wants to direct my Life story!

...or at least that's what it says in this test, hehe!
Astig!


Francis Ford Coppola
Your film will be 61% romantic, 34% comedy, 25% complex plot, and a $ 40 million budget.

Filmography: The Conversation, The Godfather (and Pt. 2 and Pt. 3),
Apocolypse Now, Peggy Sue Got Married, Jack, etc. He notoriously went
WAY overbudget with Apocolypse Now which sort of maimed his career
since. He's been doing a lot of small films lately which may give your
life story an inside track. A high-budget simple romantic drama is best
in the hands of this modern master filmmaker.



My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 84% on action-romance
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 56% on humor
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 5% on complexity
free online datingfree online dating
You scored higher than 71% on budget
Link: The Director Who Films Your Life Test written by bingomosquito on Ok Cupid

Thursday, September 15

Sad news on a gray and rainy day

How do you squeeze what little light and warmth is left from a day that dawned cold and gray?

Jay's dad passed on. I couldn't help but feel a little colder. And I felt lonelier for him. I can't even begin to imagine how it is to lose a parent. In his case, he has lost both.

How do you restart? Reboot? Revive yourself? I don't even want to think about it. It takes a different kind of spirit to live through something like this. But I was convinced long ago that Jay was a rare kind of spirit.

I want to help. And right now I think all I can do to help is be there. And I want to be there. If only to reach out and share his pain and revive his spirit.

Wednesday, September 14

If I could write like this

I would quit my job!

habang ikaw ay natutulog
ako naman ay nagising
at naupo sa may bintana
at nakisama sa'yong paghimbing
sarap mong lambingin
lalo na't madilim-dilim
habang ikaw ay natutulog

inaantok pa ang umaga
ayaw bumangon tinatamad
ikaw naman ay nananaginip
sa mga ulap ay lumilipadlipad
saang langit napadpad
nais kong sumabay
habang ika'y natutulog

kaibigan, kasama,
kahati't kabiyak
sa luha't halakhak
kapiling, kasiping,
umaga na, mahal,
sa silid ng pag-ibig ko
tahanan, silungan,
supling at kapatid
kaakbay at kaakay
karamay sa buhay
umaga na, mahal,
sa silid ng pag-ibig ko

joey ayala

one of the greatest songwriters of all time! Wouldn't be a gas if he could sing this at my wedding? hahahaha!

(
special thanks to ging & her blog from where i pinched the lyrics :))

Monday, September 12

MY mueslibowl, MY prerogative, my MILESTONES!

this is my muesli bowl and i get to dictate what goes in it. and right now, i dictate that only the good stuff goes in here.

the stress and negativity of the past two weeks will find no place here. in an attempt to slowly get over the energy-zapping, brain melting events that transpired, i will only mention them here in passing and store them away; to be retrieved only as a lesson learned for future reference: some good things are so easily forgotten.

After this sentence is punctuated, that thread of thought will end and so will its documentation.

===================

Ah! so many milestones in the past few weeks! I forget to put my favorite heading in the title. It feels good to know I can finally close the book on most tasks that need booking--just a few small ones left!

1. Make up - we finally decided on Angie Cruz! One of my best friends also referred another HMUA, and she was good, but I was still making ANgie my point of comparison. So that should say something right? Plus I got a lot of compliments for her make-up. She agreed to do another trial to try out my suggestions sometime next month.

2. Flowers - couldn't let go of the Yu sisters. :) They're doing my ento lang because their church cost was way out of budget. They had the right idea for my flowers, plus they agreed to throw in some tulips for the bridal bouquet at no extra cost!

3. Quartet - finally heard the Manila String Quartet play and we were glad we got them. They're a bunch of prodigius musicians from the UP College of Music, classmates of my musician-sister. Exquisite music for church and reception, great price! hehe

4. Barongs - my tita who lives in Iloilo and travels frequently to Aklan and Antique is sourcing good tela for us. We were able to get one for Benc's dad already. The hunt for Benc's is quite tough though, but I'm glad someone's helping us out there.

5. Favors - Marikit and Jan Imperio agreed to pot the rosemary for us for a minimal fee (mental note: email Marikit) and we'll have to do is decorate the pots. Yipeee!

And the best milestone of all: First real fitting of my gown yesterday!

ooOOOOooohhh...it was beautiful! Except for a few adjustments, especially in the critical boob and butt areas (ugh. a family curse, i swear), the gown was gorgeous! i was sooooo happy with the outcome. My Maid-of-honor sister on the other hand, needed no adjustments at all! Galeng talaga ni Lya. My mom liked her dress too...very elegant. I'm so happy I followed my heart. I think, when you do, everything else falls into place.

I can't wait to get married, if only to wear the dress! hahaha. What a winner!

==============

In other news: I'm taking certificate classes at the Angelo King Center for the next 6 Saturdays. I like taking these professional and continuing education classes. They're so interesting, and practical! So like you Rhona, I am revelling in the uploading of new information. Feels good. I always liked learning. Learning anything. Gives you a sense of empowerment, and that you're doing something worthwhile with your time.

I have to take care of my LOA pala at CMC. Another mental note.

Will get to your tag soon Rhona. :)

=============

Congratulations rin to my sis-in-Lya, Pia Unson-Rivera. They got married yesterday, and I was glad to be a part of the hundreds who prayed for fair weather. Lya said Pia looked stunning. I'm sure she was. Pia was in good hands from the beginning.

Mik is next. Good luck sis! May you be blessed with sunny weather on your wedding day and every day for the rest of your life together. :)

============

Thursday, September 1

Brain in Butt

That's how it feels, hehe. My mind and body are totally devoid of luster and sharpness and wit and stamina.

It's all gone. I feel like an overcooked noodle. Truly.

So to reward myself, and my team, we decided to do a little bonding the traditional way...in the environment we shine in, among the creative spirits of Manila, with the blessings of our good looking ancestors.

We are going shopping at 168.

HOOOOOWEEEEEEEEH!

Aren't you dying to know where or what the hell that is? *wink wink*

Friday, August 26

BEWARE: Nasty Spoilers!

(nicked from http://gratefuledead.com/archives)

I didn't believe it could happen and I still can't, but it has. So it was Dumbledore all along. My head still hurts--I don't know if it's from the shock or the sadness or horror or the fact that I read this 30-chapter novel from my PDA (my first time to do so!)

I can't sleep. Which explains the time stamp on this post. Sa sobrang sama ng loob, I decided to write. I must say this is JKR's worst-written novel in Harry's continuing real-life horror-telenovela; however the dang witch kept me coming back for more. Or maybe I was just curious who would be the next recipient of the avada kedavra curse. Or I wanted to find out once and for all who the half-blood prince was--when I found out, I was just as disappointed as you.

I felt JKR had difficulty writing this particular book. She always loved to tell instead of show, but in Book 6 it really got worse. Pages and pages of people rambling, reminiscing, instructing. Felt as if you were almost in oneof their classes. She was obviously setting everything up for an explosive Book 7. I couldn't stand all these sudden appearances and minute speaking lines of thousands of characters. I'm like, should they really be there? What are they there for? And then what? It's all exposition, barely any follow-ups. I guess the real story will tell itself in a year, when Book 7 finally gets printed.

She should really, REALLY explore the possibility of telling parallel stories and allow other events to unfold at the same time. But I guess when you're a young, powerful, celebrity wizard, you can't help but have the whole world revolve around you. The techniques is tired. But I guess, JKR thinks, she's started it this way, she should end it the same way. If she just allowed herself a bit of freedom early on, maybe it wouldn't be this tiring to read for me, and less tiring for her to write as well.

I hope Harry and Ginny's relationship doesn't become a "Titanic" one, with trite lines like, you can go on, or, let me go, or some other sappy cliche at the point of either's death. She should give the relationships character. Make them original. Then again, hello! Book 7. The last. The end.

I hope it will end with a bang. This transitional piece, even though it has its moments, was so predictable. I may not have known who was going to die, but when the scene popped up, I knew it was him. I still feel bad about the death, and those last five chapters kept me riveted. At the end though, I was like--that's it? Pretty anticlimactic, albeit slightly brooding, after such a gallant stand. I was expecting Harry to speak up, but he didn't. Too bad. It would have been a fitting tribute to the Headmaster he loved so much.

I was always a Dumbledore fan. Still am. I shed a tear, and now I feel a little better. At least the misery of this badly-written book has ended for him. Harry and the barkada have to endure just one more. Hopefully it won't be so torturous for the rest of us.

Monday, August 22

Old Photographs

Was feeling a bit nostalgic so I decided to upload these.

And then Oly texts me out of the blue to say she's back in Manila for two weeks and wants to have lunch with me today! Talk about timing! :) hehehehe

Wednesday, August 17

I think I know now why I love popcorn

I can pop corn using a pan. Not a microwave oven. I can pop gorgeous fluffy white popcorn using an aluminum pan, fire, cooking oil and corn kernels.

I learned the craft when I was nine. My dad, my brother and I used to cook popcorn the old way, long before its microwave descendants found their way into the Philippines. Popcorn was a staple on our grocery list, and the late-night popping sessions became a tradition between my dad and us.

Papa was the popper. He was so good at it he had his own formula for popping the corn: he’d heat the thinnest aluminum pan there was in the kitchen. When the smoke was white, he’d pour the oil then the dried corn kernels. I loved the sound they made when as they fell into the pan, tinkling a thousand times over, sounding like enthusiastic applause or the rain.

My brother and I would wait silently as we listened for the first pop! Papa would gently shake the pan and then we’d hear another pop, until the heat of the stove turned them all into raging, angry little creatures, banging against the walls of the pan as they started bursting their petals and crowding one another.

The muffled bumps and passionate popping were like music to our ears…rather a syncopated tom-tom beat that heightened the excitement of downing mouthfuls of the hot popped corn. My brother and I danced around in anticipation while Papa would sting his fingers trying to hold on to a hot pan and shake out all the other kernels that might not have popped.

We’d always gun for 90-95% popped corn. Papa would usually eat the unpopped kernels. The burned ones tasted like nuts. If there were a lot of kernels left, we’d conclude that they were old stock or were of a low quality. We’d resolve next time not to buy that brand the next time we went to the grocery.

Funny that it all came flashing back to me last week at the grocery as Bubba and I did some emergency shopping for his condo. He doesn’t have a microwave. I was craving for popcorn, and then I saw the shelf that carried them. I remembered Papa and Andrei and the late nights we’d spend just gorging them down, sitting on Mama and Papa’s bed, watching late night tv. Sometimes we’d request a second batch and Papa would come back with another bowl full of fluffy white florets.

It was simple. It was fun. It was one of my most memorable childhood activities. I love popcorn because they fed me comfort, happiness, security, love. Popcorn's my comfort food. Popping corn with the first men in my life late at night were bonding sessions for us. And I will never forget them.

Funny that it should all be coming back to me now. I’m glad I’m smiling as I remember it. And I love that I am feeling peaceful yet wistful, missing the days when all I had to bother me was a little brother who wanted to share everything with me. I love knowing I have memories like these to fill me with love. And strength, and confidence to push forward and make my own old fashioned popcorn.

Bubba and I made a batch of them tonight, at my instruction. We got 100% popped corn.

Thursday, August 11

Water in my Hobbithole

Woke up this morning to find a thin "film" of water on my floor. When Benc took a look, he said even the walls were "dewy" and glistening.

Water's seeping in from somewhere, but I don't know where it's coming from.

Who knows how long it's been happening? I usually go around my living space in rubber slippers and it's possible it's been like this for weeks and I just didn't notice it. Then again, no. I applied ant chalk the other day and the place was dry...I even did some sweeping.

ARRRRHGGGGHHHH!!!!

How could this be happening? My unit's the last one on my floor and it's beside the staircase, so it can't be coming from someone's plumbing beside me. If it was coming from the unit above mine, there's be marks on my ceiling, and it would trail down the walls right? But no. It just sort of appeared on the floor.

This really irritates me. Ed, the building administrator said he could only take a look at it on Saturday when he's stationed in the condo. He's out in the field usually. I was crabby and cranky all day because I was worried, but I felt better when Ed expressed worry and bewilderment as well. I told him my sofa bed's wet. And so are my covers. It's a good thing I have a sleeping bag. Darn. And the rain's perfect: how am I going to dry out my bed?

Just when everything was just about right. *sigh* The travails of a semi-home owner. And single person living alone.

Welcome to the real world.

Wednesday, August 10

Your Comments Needed

This is TMU number 2--this time with Angie Cruz and Odgie.








They're both seasoned pros, having been in the hair and make-up business for 15 years. They're make-up artists for modelling shows, shoots for Penshoppe, MEGA Magazine, Jenni Epperson, Phoem Baranda, etc.
They're a fun duo--very down to earth, honest, candid. Most of all, they came on time to the
appointment and were welcome to suggestions and our preferences in make-up. They were eager to try all sorts of colors to achieve the look we wanted, and were willing to stay a little longer, powder me up a little more until we were ALL satisfied.

Here's version 1 of the make-up. Angie used a brownish lipstick here. I asked Odgie to try making the curls more wavy than curly.


He used a curling iron. Then used his hands to wind my hair around the thing. He did this cheerfully and efficiently for fifteen minutes! He was wearing knitted gloves so his fingers wouldn't burn. awww.
In these next photos, Angie used what he called his "bridal" lipstick--more pink! Odgie also made the curls tighter. Call this version 2, using Angie's bridal lipstick.
My mom and I liked what Angie did with my eyes and brows...my face opened up and there's more definition. The foundation is a bit too white though. When I told Angie this, he quickly brushed my face with bronzer--dunno if it really worked (you tell me!) but what I think is needed is a more tinted foundation.

Two of my friends found it unnatural while another said she liked this better than Barbi's.
What do you think? Your no-holds-barred opinions and comments will be very much appreciated! Thanks, all!

Random Question pa rin

Thanks Mik, Marj, Joanne and Malou for sharing your thoughts. Sana mas marami pa ang mag share.
Your stories helped put me at ease. I read and re-read them, and then do my own reflections. I DO know why I left home. I think I just need to know I'm not alone in that decision. I just need reassurance that what I did was totally valid, and wasn't something selfish.

So all the rest of you browsers, bloggers, friends and fence-sitters (hehe), leave your thoughts. Who knows? You may just help put a late-bloomer's spirit at ease.

Friday, August 5

Random Question

I want to find out from all of you why you left home. I know there are some situations wherein it's necessary (you found work abroad, you got a scholarship abroad), but I would also like to hear from those who just...did it. Despite the fact that everything was provided for you--a roof over your head, free board and lodging, pressed laundry, clean rooms--in your parents' house.

Wala lang, I just want to hear from everyone else. I didn't realize there were so many of us...I was always of the mind that Filipino kids never leave their parents' houses unless they were getting married. Consider this my attempt at finding a support group. I'm just curious:

1. Why did you leave home?

2. How did you cope?

I hope you don't mid if I post your reactions here. Or maybe you can PM me and then I'll post it.

Thanks all!

Thursday, August 4

TAG!

I'm it, says Mik and Malou. Because of that I am to answer a couple of questions. O siya, Mik and Malou, share na kayo dito, hehe.

1. What are the things you enjoy doing even when there's no one around you?

I enjoy staring at my closet of a few clothes (some three years old) and figuring out what to wear. :) I enjoy reading alone, doing my scrapbook and making all sorts of paper crafty things alone. Several years ago, I would die before I was caught eating or sitting in a cafe or restaurant alone. But I like doing that now.

And if I'm not sitting in some cafe alone, I go walking--in the mall, in UP, around Makati...anywhere. It frees my mind and I let it wander.

2. What lowers your stress/ blood pressure/ anxiety level?

Cooking de-stresses me. So does scrapbooking and blogging and journaling and window shopping. Photography lowers my blood pressure and cuddling up to Bubba lowers my anxiety level. :D Which reminds me, I have some anxieties I wish to purge. Excuse me...

3. Tag five friends and ask them to post it in theirs.

Tag! Tag! Tag!

Donna
Rej
Ian
Glo
Gra

Wednesday, August 3

Ooooh! I forgot to tell you

I fitted the lining of my dress last Saturday at Lya's! It was so exciting. I could almost see how it would look like. Lya promised not to cut the lace til the lining was perfect. It needs a bit of adjustment thought because it was too...big! bwahahahaha! That was encouraging. On the other hand, it could be that the measurement-takers just put a lot of allowance. :)

The moms also had their measurements taken for their dresses. My mom's dress design is soooo...imeldific! As in, the works. And it costs almost the same my three secondary sponsors' dresses! Oh well, she IS my mom. I'll give it to her. And I'm sure it's a dress she'll be able to wear again anyway. I have faith in Lya. I'm sure she'll make everyone look stunning.

My future MIL is having her dress done with Lya too. She chose a more laid back, traditional design, but one she was comfortable in. Again, it's something she will be able to wear to all her political and socio-civic meetings and activities. You know what's sweet? My future FIL was the one who helped her pick out her design. And it was from a magazine pa in the 60s! Those two...so in love pa rin after forty years together.

To whet my appetite some more, Lya showed me one of the partially-completed BM dresses. Oooooh, it looked so cute! It was so soft and wispy! I held back taking photos til it was completed. Para di maudlot. And to keep the suspense. :) I'm so excited! We're scheduled for a first fitting sometime this month.

Can't wait! Can't wait! Can't wait! Can't wait!

Monday, August 1

The floor is now open for your

comments. I repeat: COMMENTS. No laughing please. I feel awkward as it is posting these here, but I know that to get opinions I will have to grin and bear it. No matter how much this makes me squirm.

(trumpets and drumroll here) I now humbly present, for your scrutiny my first trial make-up session!

This session was done with Barbi Chan, make-up to artist to the stars, a favorite make-up artist for Cosmo and Preview, having done the faces of HEart Evangelista, Amanda Griffin, Rya Mananquil, etc. Now she can say she has done the face of Data Tolentino! Bwahahahaha.

Okay, here they are. I would appreciate gentle comments. There are short annotations as the photos unfold. Er, enjoy!

--> I was intrigued when Barbi mentioned her airbrush technique. According to her it's what stars like JLo and Julia R used to look really natural. And she was right: the make-up did have a more natural finish. Plus it felt really light. She used MAC and Shu Uemura items, and the colors were pretty.

My hair was to be made up in soft curls that would fall in nice tendrills. The nice lady who did my hair applied warmed curlers that helped my hair set in twenty minutes.

Now here's the outcome of those thirty minutes. Barbi was going for a soft, ethereal look. Tell me if it was achieved:
Here's a frontal view. I think I look more Chinese than ethereal.

And here's an angled view. I think I need to grow my hair a lot longer.

My mom and sister said my eyes needed more definition and my eyebrows needed more shaping. So she did just that (my mom) and here's what I looked like after the minor "surgery":

My hair got tired of being all curled up and straightened. But I think my mom's idea worked.

I still haven't decided. It is, after all my first trial. I have an upcoming trial on Sunday. At least I know now what to request. Phew! I got tired just sitting and smiling, and deciding whether or not I liked the look or not. But at least one of those present during the session didn't seem to mind if I looked haggard or ethereal:

Friday, July 29

I think it's partly because of

Guilt.

I feel guilty that, being the eldest, I left my mom to take care of my other siblings. I feel guilty that I left my siblings to fend for themselves. I feel guilty that I know my mom misses me and I am letting her feel that way everynight. I feel guilty I don't get to see my family everyday.

Maybe that's why I'm finding it hard to adjust. Because I am finding it difficult to let go also. Talk about not wanting to grow up like my mother, haha! Here I am trying to wiggle out of her loving grasp, and now that I'm free, I feel like I can't release the invisible umbilical cord. :-D Isn't it ironic?

I know they will tell me to stop feeling guilty about nothing, to stop making big issues out of thin air, to just enjoy myslef. But somehow, I am finding it difficult. I was so used to sharing everyhting growing up, becuase we never really had much money and everyone had to always "leave some for others." Everything from bed space to clothes, to junk food to pad paper for school...everything had to be divided equally among everybody. Now that I have these great big things and experiences to myself, I feel guilty that I am the only one experiencing it. I'm the only one na nakikinabang. And that makes me feel like I'm such a selfish person.

But I know they'll all hit me on the head and say, STOP IT! Live your life! You deserve it! :) And that makes me teary-eyed because I miss them more when I think about it. They'll tell me I'm stupid for feeling guilty for something I worked for and something they're so excited about for me. Crazy, this thing about family relationships.

You never outgrow them.
====================================
Going home tonight, after an office party Bubba and I are hosting for the DS gang. Well whaddaya know? It's Friday, and I survived my first week away from home! :-D That's something to proud of, ain't it? And I hope, just like Marj says, the transition will get easier. Thanks Marj!

Wednesday, July 27

Deep Sigh

I'm a bit more okay tonight, albeit slightly wistful. I remembered the people in TS with a tinge of longing, but I didn't cry when I did. Let out a deep sigh. I was weeping silently though as Rej and I talked about leaving home this morning. She told me her story and I realized I was living through mine. I was telling it in real time, wiping my nose on my sleeve as I did. My whole being was crying out for me to be okay, for everything to be okay. But these things take time, I know. All in good time.

I am moved by the words of encouragement that have been blowing my way. W@wies, friends from across the oceans, officemates -- all of them putting in a vote of confidence for me. All of them telling me they believe in me and that they believe I can make good.

I told Rej, I am by nature a wallower. I have to feel sorry for myself and will let fate pamper me and make things all right for me. But I don't have that luxury now. I can't keep being a baby. I guess it was easy before because there was someone who would pick up after me, especially when I just wanted to bum. There were other people who would entertain me by just being there.

But I don't have that now. I have to rely on myself. And Myself has to be up and about. It's a bit difficult but deep inside I know I'll get to the really OK stage again, and all these messages have helped me tremendously! Thank you, all of you who dropped by to wish me well. I am deeply touched and grateful for your concern and your confidence in me. WIth all of you behind me, I know I'll be able to make it through this first week alone. Hopefully the sadness will only be for a week. And then I can start writing happy things again...well, maybe not always happy stuff...but Data stuff. :-D haha!

I should get some sleep. Had a strenous evening at the gym. Will have another active day at badminton tomorrow. Sweet dreams all!

Monday, July 25

First Night (written at 1.49 am, 24 July)

It's my first night away from my mother's house as a full-fledged, independent adult. I am sitting in my tiny little studio, with the music of the Gogos, blaring from my tiny laptop--the only sound keeping me company. bags and luggages stand watch. my brand new electric fan, "Sweet Wind" hums soothingly and the blinds on my window click and clatter when Sweet Wind turns its head on them.

I'm here--this point that I have been obsessing about for two years, or even more. Eversince i read that damned thirty things to do before you're thirty article in that blasted cosmopolitan magazine, my goal has changed little. i knew i could do it. i knew i had to. in fact, i kind of knew that i would. it was the stamp on my independence, my capability to live for myself, single or engaged to be married. I knew it was going to make other people admire me, maybe even inspire my siblings to do the same. i remember this nearly being the be-all and end-all of my existence last year--or was it two years ago?--when i had made a downpayment but had to withdraw it because of the family financial crisis. it would be my reasoning for why i was so depressed or why i wasn't "growing" anymore. it would be my salvation when i began to feel fed up with mama's irrational irritations. it would be the light at the end of the tunnel when i was feeling pissed off and annoyed at my sisters' shallow and trivial bickering, at my brother's seeming indifference to what was happening at home. It would be my way to challenge Baby that i could go on living without him if he didn't want to marry me. It was going to make me sooooo different. i was out to prove to the world that i was a woman capable of taking care of herself. Big Woman, Living Large, Having the time of her life.

Now sitting here with just Zoe for company, the memories of the late Sunday-night sounds come flooding back. I could almost see them all puttering around the house, getting ready for the week to follow, walking across the threshhold of my room, last minute bilins being called out, old wooden floors creaking under the weight of six people who are my family everyday, every moment, from the time i wake in the morning to the time my mind drifts off to sleep, and in between the worlds of REM.

And they will always remain so. Already, this, my first night away, I realize that more than just proving my ability to spend 8000 a month on rent plus utilities, this whole goal of setting out on my own is more humbling than anything i have ever known. just realizing how many small tasks i will now have to do on my own is actually overwhelming and almost unbelievable...from doing my laundry to throwing out my own trash to making sure doors are locked and the bathroom's dry. It's unbelievable, the convenience we can get so used to when people who love us so unconditionally do everything for us to not notice how difficult it is to live and make the world liveable for us. Now realizing how much i have to do for myself...well, practically everything...suddenly you see more things in perspective: the way mama was seemed always so unreasonably alarmed about not locking up properly; how and why water and electric bills were high, how she can get all high strung when money for food or rent was unavailable.

what kept me going through all that was talking or simply forgetting the travails of older people with my siblings. vegging out was usually enough. late nights sipping coffee or hot cocoa at the dining table, laughing about absolutely nothing, and everything. Just seeing them was a comfort, knowing they were there to borrow things from, knowing you were there to help them out of a rut, being their older ally. it was bittersweet, and it's those little moments that mean so much. and though there are times i get so pissed off at them, i admit it was the little moments i was afraid to miss. these are times that are difficult to come by all the time. i sometimes feel so out of it when i miss a session and they start talking about something they cackled over the night before. so you make plans to not miss the next session. i will miss these times...a sure sign i am older and have other things to attend to, and that life will take these little times away from me. I wonder if they feel the same. i can see vividly in my mind's eye how andrei walks across the tv screen, how my sisters sit slumped on the couch in front of the tv. i will miss watching tv with them and listening and joining their commentaries late at night. most of all, i will miss them. it's simply that. all of them.

i only pray i am strong enough to endure this decision. right now i'm just weak from homesickness. truly. haha! this from a girl who boasts of having traveled all over the country and to many places in the world. right now it would feel so good to just be travelling to the home called tandang sora. it would feel so good to just know they're right in the next room. now they're 70 kms away, but my heart is still there. i guess it will always be.

Friday, July 22

Growing Up-Goodbyes

I should start somewhere. Maybe I should talk about my headache. I've had it for the past two days. It could be caused by one, or a combination of, the following:

1. Lack of sleep. I get up at 5.45 in the morning to beat the mad crwds at the MRT station. Work til 8 pm then go home via MRT again when the mad crowd has gone.
2. PMS
3. Anxiety from moving out.
4. Setting up the company's marketing department while trying to make more sales.
5. Trying to not miss my family.
6. Trying not to worry too much.
7. Worrying too much.

It could be a combination of all these, or it could be all this. I know that the one thing that's making my heart ache is leaving my siblings.

[TOINK!] Leaving?

Yep leaving. I'm moving out. I've found my own place, and I start hauling my stuff on Saturday.

Tomorrow
.


All this week I was sad because I had fears that being physically separated would mean being uninvolved, forgotten, distant. I was afraid that because I wasn't there with them anymore, I was going to be an "other" person. I cried about it. I woke in the middle of several nights thinking about it. I've worried about it. But this morning, on our way to school, my sisters seemed happy for me. They were excited and talking about possibilities, and I felt reassured.


Reassured that though I would be missed, I would still be part of their lives. I didn't bank on this being the most difficult part of leaving. After all the things we had been through together: extreme poverty, being separated, our parents' break-up, starting over. I was remembering all those dinners I would be (actually have been) missing, the late-night kwentos, the weekend veg-out sessions. It's always difficult leaving the people you grew up with. So I started questioning myself again, this decision to do things on my own: what for? Why spend more when you're getting married anyway? Why live away from them when you're perfectly all right and pampered at home? Why live away from the people you love, and the people you know will love you no matter what?

I began to hedge, almost didn't make the downpayment, put off calling the condominium's admin officer. Benc tried to reason with me. He tried to reming me of my plans to practice independence, the plans we had when we lived closer, the business possibilities when we were in the same area making things happen. Most of all he reminded me of my life goals, and my list of things to do before I got married.

Today I remembered why I had to do it: precisely because everything in my mom's house was safe, I was pampered, we were always all right. It's not like that in all cases, especially when I start to make my own home. Plus I've always wanted to be totally independent: doing my own laundry, caring for my own space, no househelp to run to, clean my own bathroom, wash my own clothes, prepare my own food. I do my share of the housework, don't get me wrong. But it's different when you know that, if you don't feel like it, there'll always be someone to pick up after you. There'll always be laundry done for you, plates washed, rooms swept.

I've always wanted to step out of that comfort zone and see firsthand what it's all about. But I want to do it on my own, make it a success or failure that is dependent all on me. I know I'm going to experience it when I get married, but I want go it alone first.

Today I was reassured I could do it precisely because of the people I would be leaving: I knew they would love me no matter what. I knew they would support me in whatever I needed to do for myself. My siblings were excited about helping decorate the room I would be leaving, and the studio I'd be moving into. I know they're behind me 101% and they're happy for me. My mom's worrying as usual, but she understands. My dad said, "that's great!"

I feel I can do anything as long as I have these people behind me, and nothing anybody will ever think or say will matter.

So now my headache has subsided. I'm feeling better, thanks in part to Biogesic. And thanks a great deal to the people who have made my life so full and rich.