The Arrow That Struck Home

I've been away for 4 and a half months today. Thing is, the longer I find myself away from home, the less I miss it.

Although life was so much easier in Manila, I don't miss it. In Manila, I was surrounded by people who cared about me and loved me. That, to me, has always been my safety net. Whenever I'd run out of gas, I could always call my Mom and in a few hours, my 70-liter tank would be filled. Whenever I needed someone to babysit, I could always call on either of my sisters to do it. Anytime I wanted something to eat, my Nanay Cora would prepare it for me. And there was wakeboarding, and parties, and malls, and.......

Losing that safety net has somewhat emancipated me. Of course there will always be down times when I'd miss that, but I'm learning to live with it.

Moving on is what I've learned to do when problems seem to pile up. Even when they seem to come in bunches, it's okay. You learn to deal with it evey single day. Besides, I wouldn't want to go through life with my eyes shut, or with a closed mind either.

Just the other day, Joel found 4 gray hairs on my head. If I were in Manila, I would've freaked out and headed straight to a salon. Now, I simply don't give a hoot. I have bigger and more important things to worry about.

Having said that, I feel so liberated. And yes, at home.......

From the DailyOM.

The process of evolution can require you to undergo transformations that uproot you. Moving from place to place can seem to literally divide you from the foundations you have come to depend on. Since your home is so intimately tied to the memories that define you, you may feel that you are losing a vital part of yourself when you leave behind your previous house, city, state, or country. And as it may take some time before you fashion new memories, you may feel homeless even after settling into your new abode. To carry your home with you, you need only become your own foundation. Doing so is merely a matter of staying grounded and centered, and recognizing that the pleasures you enjoyed in one place will still touch your heart in another if you allow them.

Your home can be any space or state of being that fulfills you, provided you are at peace with yourself and your surroundings. A person can feel like home to you, as can seasons and activities. If you feel disconnected from what you once thought of as home, your detachment may be a signal that you are ready to move one. Simply put, you will know you have found your home when both your physical environment and energetic surroundings are in harmony with the individual you are within.

Couldn't have said it better.......

Running On Empty

I've been blogging for about 10 and a half months now. I used to REALLY enjoy blogging. I rememeber even coming up with 3 posts in a day and still have enough energy in me to answer every single comment.

I started blogging for pesonal reasons, one of which was so I could give vent to my emotions, mostly angst. I used to think that venting in a blog is helpful. Now I know better. It's so much like saying something in anger. You can never take it back.

I used to get upset and defensive whenever I get mean, rude, and/or offensive comments especially by assholes who don't even have the courage to drop their own names. If you've been reading my blog, you'd know what I'm talking about.

After receiving a couple of nasty comments some months ago, I avoided answering comments altogether.

Don't get me wrong, I love receiving comments. I get a thrill knowing that someone I don't know on a personal level can relate to something I wrote about. That, I think, kept me going.

So I started to filter my posts, oftentimes steering from personal topics in fear of being accused a narcissist. I had to filter practically everything, sometimes leaving me with nothing to write about.

Having said all that, why on earth do I keep blogging?

Any writer writes in hope of having his work read. Much like how a singer would want his music played or heard. Or any single being wishing to reach out to someone. I don't think that's being narcissistic.

And knowing that if I focus too much on what other people say, what other people think, and what other people choose to believe about me - I will never be happy.

It's the invisible threads you weave around you and the wonderful people you meet along the way that make it worthwhile. Much more significant than any comment and way bigger than myself.

Shaken and Stirred but not Beaten

Whoever started the phrase 'bored to death' and 'bored senseless' must be dead by now. And seriously, I'm starting to know the feeling.

My head is constantly spinning and I'm almost always nauseated. Somehow I feel my brain is about to atrophy. I'm bloated even though I'm aeons away from PMSing. Even my ovaries have gone on a major strike as I haven't had my period in nearly 5 weeks and I'm not even pregnant.

I lost ALL my files recently when my portable hard drive crashed. Imagine losing important data for work and copies/ scanned documents of me and my family plus about 80 GB worth of photos. Kaput. Just like that.

I feel so alone even when I'm not. I feel as though the bottom of my world is about to fall out. I feel as if all doors have been slammed on my face. I think I'm way past homesickness pero p***ng ina, inip na inip na 'ko!

I'm not even complaining. Because I know that's how life is. It hits you hard and it hits you fast. And I've gained and lost everything in my life twice over in the past and I'm not afraid to go through that again.

Going Lord Byron's way, 'The great art of life is sensation, to feel that we exist, even in pain.'

And I'd rather be dead than nonexistent.

Doubting Thomas

I've been so friggin' down, depressed, and bored lately that last week I was contemplating on a) talking to a squirrel, b) jumping off a cliff, and c) gouging my eyes out.

I've read a lot of Poe and it left me even more dejected. I've solved more than 80% of all the sodoku puzzles in the DS' Brain Age yet I still feel as though my brain has atrophied. I called my Mom whom I haven't seen in nearly 3 months just to see how she's doing (she's just undergone appendectomy) and she ended up giving me a litany on (unfortunate) current events and versed my long list of lapses some 20 years ago so I hung up and felt even more dysphoric than I already was.

I just about hyperventilated so I started praying and ended up questioning my faith.

Don't get me wrong, I was born and raised Catholic. I attended Catholic school in elementary and an all-girls Catholic school in high school. My parents were never really religious though. There was even a time in my teenage life that I was a proud agnostic.

But it was in that disblief that I started searching. And I realized how beautiful religon is.

Although I am Catholic, I don't shun other religons. I don't subscribe to just one religon either.

I do attend Sunday mass because in doing so, I feel an immense amount of gratitude. I pray as much as I can not so much for salvation but because it brings me much tranquility and serenity. And I DO believe not because I can feel it in me. Knowing that I am not alone, I am one happy camper.

Ultimately, it's not so much about the gestures or mantras or what it signifies but what it does to me and how it makes me feel inside.

So here's to believing, disbelieving, searching, and the odd things in between. Because even in disbelief there is pursuit. And in searching, discovery.

The L Word

Dang it!

I picked up Adverbs by Daniel Handler months ago not just because I'm a devoted Lemony Snicket fan but because I fell in love with the cover and because it said 'this novel is about love' at the back cover.

It's supposedly a compilation of 17 different short stories although I seriously think the characters and plots are loosely connected as the characters do reappear (or is it they have the same names? I don't think so, even when their gender changes every so often) and the plot, well, seemingly linked.

Being the hopeless romantic (or is it voracious reader) that I am, I tried finishing the book in one sitting. Well almost. Before I even got to the last 2 chapters/ stories, I misplaced the book. I nearly forgot about it until I chanced upon it 2 days ago sitting behind East of Eden.

So I reread the whole dang thing.

The funny thing is - after reading it, rereading it, and reading between the lines - I don't think I got it. I thought perhaps reading it was a waste of time.

Although Handler portrayed the many faces and facets of love, he did so with his usual deadpan humor, sarcastic dry wit, and uncanny wordplay.

For something that claims to be about love, I found it to be quite unsentimental. Complex. Challenging.

Sometimes tortured, at times tragic. Sometimes sad, at times humorous. Oftentimes angry and obsessive, sometimes twisted and depressing.

Or maybe that's how love is in the first place.

It's beyond definiton. It defies categorization. It demands way too much energy. And in the end, it doesn't add up to anything.

The only lines(s) from the book I did get reads: 'Love is this sudden crash in your path, quick and to the point, and nearly always it leaves someone slain on the green'.

To which I couldn't agree more because even to a simpleton such as myself, anything less than mad, crazy jealous, obsessive, passionate, all-consuming love is a waste of time.

Dang, am I lucky!

Recoup

I'm just beginning to get back on my feet. Losing 5 lbs. in 3 days was a wake-up call. It may not seem like much but on an already petite frame, believe me, that's excessive.

I'm through with denial and anguish. With prayers and a lot of support, I think I've managed to accept things as they are now. Of course, my boys have always been such an inspiration....... While I'm at it, I may as well thank all those, who have in more ways than one, helped us.

To Joel's high school buddies - Gerry, Allan, Paolo, Ricky, Lindley, Jing, Ducon, Pasky, Hector, Auwie, Malou, Anna, Shirley, Rowelyn, Myra, Aileen - for planning and executing the perfect surprise 'Bon Voyage' party for J, thank you. We appreciate the superb gesture, and how very thoughtful of you all to have given it........

To dear blogger friends - JD, Iron Pugilist, Liudmila, Frogster, Florence, Ate Beng - for the wonderful messages and the well wishes. And to Annita - bless you for your sweet e-card and for your affecting messages. I can sense the warmth and genuineness of your poignant words.......

To Ate Leni, Kuya Sam, Tim, Mommy Nita, Ate Baby, Ate Mel, Joseph R, Celina R, & Mike C - for helping us as we ease through this transition, thank you. No words can express our gratitude for all you've done. Namaste.......

J
I miss you greatly.
I can't wait for that day when I can steal that few moments with you again so we can escape to our own private world - where nothing exists but the two of us.
I love you overly much, you know very well how much I do.
I

Wandering Aimlessly

I missed the u-turn slot in Quezon Avenue.
I missed Gate 2 in Ateneo.
I missed the right turn going to Saint Claire and ended up in Marikina.
I almost forgot to pick up my son in pre-school.
I feel completely lost. Everything looks dreary.

I used to see the world with very dark lenses.

It was through his eyes that I saw vivid light and magnificent hues - that the world ain't so bad after all.

Without his lenses, I somewhat see that darkness again.

Vince: It's just like giving birth - no matter how many people you ask about it, no matter how many books you read on it - you'll never really know how it is unless you go through it yourself.
Ivy: I never thought it would be this hard.
Vince: Give yourself time to grieve but then again you need to be stronger for the kids and for him as well.
Ivy: It's hard trying to keep a straight face in front of them.
Vince: Think of it this way, at least you've taken the first step.
Ivy: I know, but it sure is the hardest.

I retract that statement - it's the long, bitterly cold nights I dread the most.

J
I miss you terribly, and if by chance you see a shooting star tonight - that would be me - blowing a massive kiss for you.......
I

Losing Grip

I thought 8 long months was enough to prepare me for this day - apparently not.

For almost a decade, we've never been apart longer than 48 hours. You don't have to be the Dalai Lama to know how long and grueling the next 2 and a half months would be to me.

I though the tear duct was somewhat like a well, that it would eventually dry up - apparently not.

After a week of crying, I find that my tear ducts and gland refuse to dry up. After a week of lacrimation, the tears can't seem to get drained off.

Being without him is like having a big lump on my soul. Everything looks dull. Every part of the house looks empty. Every part of my body feels numb. The air seems icy. And everything - yes, everything - tastes like paper.

It is said that no single pain killer works for everyone - well, except time. So until then, I'll be swimming in wretchedness for some time - say, the next 2 and a half months.

J
I miss all of you.
I miss your big brown eyes.
I miss your leg to ride against.
I am burning with longing to see you. Oh that I could.
Know that I think of you constantly, I miss you terribly, and I love you exceedingly.
I

Proverbial

(My PMS has broken into its more severe form, PMDD. Don't be surprised to find this long rant either deleted or drastically edited in the next few days - THEN AGAIN, MAYBE NOT)

Ask either of my parents how I was as a kid and they'd probably tell you I was(!) the female counterpart of Dennis the Menace (see, even my old photo shows that menacing grin lol). I got into a lot of catfights and fistfights, and yes I was very, very naughty. Let's see, I knocked off my sister Coco's tooth on two separate occasions (and was punished severely for both incidents), I smacked a classmate's head with a soda bottle when I was in 4th grade for he was constantly teasing and making fun of me (he was fine and I was penalized which I so rightfully deserved), I managed to wreck one of my parents' trucks by sneaking it without their consent and then driving it straight into a cliff (accidentally or course, I was 14 then and was unaware that driving a right-handed vehicle required a different set of driving skills) making the truck roll over 6 times, and oh and did I mention that I was with my brother who was then only 8? Thank God no one was hurt.

Being the troublemaker that I once was, I got punished and chastised quite often. I'm sure you get the picture.

My parents had very different views on discipline though. My Mom belonged to the 'lumuhod ka sa bigas' school of discipline where one is supposed to kneel on rice grains for hours on end with arms extended to one's sides with either 2 massive telephone directories or an encyclopedia on each hand. My Dad, on the other hand, belonged to the 'evangelize, moralize, sermonize' school of discipline. Up to this day, he'd probably bombard me with sermons if he recalls the number of times he was summoned to the Principal's office.

Among the most vivid sermons I remember (although back then I pretended not to listen) are the ones on accountability. Take for example the difference between asking for consent and stating plans.

Say there's a huge party I want to attend, I could either say - 'There's a party at whoever's house, can I go? Pretty please.' VS. 'I'm attending a party at whoever's house tonight so don't wait up.' Or - 'May I use the car tonight?' VS. 'I'm gonna use the car tonight.'.

The former is a question and the latter is a statement. The former shows respect for authority and the latter shows utter disregard for it.

But what if the damage has been done - say for example a huge dimple slightly bigger than a halved orange right above the car's front tire or perhaps a ginormous scratch on the side of the car extending from the second door all the way to the rear bumper - do I fess up immediately or do I wait for anybody to notice?

For obvious reasons, I'd go with the former. For one, I don't think anybody would be that stupid not to notice. Second, I'd rather he hear it straight from the horse's mouth than from another source. And lastly, well, I've found that the imposed castigation is worse with the latter.

I'm not proud of my mistakes but I do own up to them and I do make an effort to pay for them. At least that's what I was taught, but then again I can only speak for myself. So what the hell are you gonna do about THAT? Huh.........

Emotional Vampires

Just when you thought vampires only existed in fictitious narratives and horror flicks, think again.

I find that there are three kinds of complainers, whiners, grumblers and/or faultfinders in this world, or in mine at least.

There are those who complain because they're looking for a solution to their hornets' nest in the process. That to me, is perfectly fine.

There are those who grump about their dissatisfactions and resentments because they want to let it all out, more like a form of release. Which again is perfectly okay just as long as the griper doesn't do it often. While I'm at it, I may as well admit that I belong to this category.

There are those who consatantly whine simply to elicit sympathy or more likely, attention. In Filipino, I think the term for this is reklamador or most probably KSP. Among the three, I find the latter the most annoying kind. For one, they whine, complain, and grouch over the same old things but you'll be amazed that they do nothing to solve anything. They whine about the same things over and over and over again. Even when given expedient advice, solicited or otherwise, you'll find they have absolutely no intention of solving anything.

In your quest to become a good listener, you'll find yourself
(a) drained of every positive human emotion such as joy, happiness, and love;
(b) worn-out of virtues such as faith and hope; and
(c) with thoughts filled with doubt and negativity, sometimes leaving you in a state of coma.

Much like Dracula, they can pretty much suck the life out of you.

I used to be a magnet for the third kind but growing older (not necessarily wiser) I've managed to identify them. In the process, I've managed to sever ties, even those formed by blood.

Doing so is not without recoil though. Erstwhile friends think I'm a major bitch. But then again, I truly am and I make no apologies for that.

Estranged relatives think I'm an ingrate. Come to think of it, I owe them nothing and I really care not what they think of me.

My dear friend Vince used to tell me (but not anymore), 'Ivy, your biggest problems aren't even yours to begin with'. Truer words have never been spoken.

Now I'm left with my sanity and a handful of silver bullets for validation.

Blog Archiving

In response to a tripartite meme from Jay of 'Dat'Money

The first of the triad is the birthday month meme which I did some 6 weeks ago.

The second is the '7 things' meme which I did a week prior to that.

I'm (thus) left with the third option in which I'm supposed to go through my archives and choose five favorite posts about my family, friends, myself, something I love and lastly, one of my choice.

So I browse through a hundred posts and after 2 full hours, I still can't come up with my selection. My blog has always been a personal assay and picking just 5 is an impossible task. Here then (in no particular order) are my top picks.

Disambiguated Seity because even at age 30, I still can't quite figure IT out.
Temporary Madness as I'm perpetually IN love.
An Ode To Snow White. Physical Beauty is so f***in' overrated!
Battle Scars. Believe it or not, I'm proud of ALL my scars, superficial or otherwise.
Dreamweaving because I (still) believe hope springs eternal.
Highly Evolved Defense Mechanisms. To some degree, aren't we all equipped???
Diabolical Idiosyncrasies because I believe in God-given free will.
Hyperspeed because I seriously think one could lose oneself in a notional world.
The Fine Art Of Conversation because I keep finding myself soliloquizing.
Mastering The Art Of Falling as it was written for a friend in denial about a very serious problem.
The Ultimate Secret To Happiness. Sorry to burst your bubble, there is none.
Hey Handsome. A birthday pressie for my main man.
A Skeleton Out Of My Closet. Probably the most personal piece I've written, not to mention the only one with 'tears' to match.
Shiver Me Timbers: Drastic Measures (Part 2) (in which I did the unthinkable!!!) as it was written to exorcise the ghost of an ex flame.
Turning Over A New Leaf as I'm so grateful to have had my blog 'adopted'. *Yay*
Denounging Suffrage which explains why I have denounced my right to vote and why I hate politicians.
Of Sex Scandals & Pinays. Seriously, in this day and age, do you still think that the world is flat, or were you born yesterday?!!!
Holiday Anathema because I hate spoiled brats!
Conservation 101 For Dumdums. Sedira is beautiful. Call her otherwise and I'd kick you right smack in the balls!!!!
My wakeboarding posts because I'd wakeboard everyday if I could!!!

And my Pinoy posts...............

Super Tsuper: An Overview of Filipino Public Ultility Drivers because you just have to live with them! *Grrrrrrr*
The Sub Genuses Of Filipino Traffic Violators Este Drivers. Pardon the a**holes.
Pinoy Daredevils. Yet another pet peeve.
My Shungak Awards. They deserve the honor...........
Only In The Philippines, Filipino 'SIGNS' Of Wit. Filipnos are quite inventive.
Only In The Philippines, Mga Pamahiing Filipino. Filipinos are just plain superstitious.
Pinoy Folk Illnesses. Not only are we superstitious..........
The Philippines Through The Eyes Of A Filipina. I'm (still) downright proud to be Filipino!
Filipinos: The Good, The Bad, & The Chaka. Duh???

In turn, I tag
J.D. of The Uneasy Supplicant, like I said, I love your take on memes.
Joel of My Journal
Josey of Stayin' Silly, Livin' Lucky to help keep her mind off her 'mind vs. taste buds' battle ;) Annita of Footprints
Iron Pugilist of The Road To Madness
Pusa of Pusang Maganda
CC of Bamboo Blitz
Nessa of Mumblings

Since this is part of a triad, feel free to do one or all three ;)

Thanks again Jay! Whew, that was definitely waaaaayyyy more than the 5 you require ;)

Obiter Dicta

obi·ter dic·tum \"ō-bə-tər-'dik-təm, "ä-\ n, pl obiter dic·ta \-tə\ [LL, lit., something said in passing] (1812) 1 : an incidental and collateral opinion that is uttered by a judge but is not binding 2 : an incidental remark or observation

I haven't answered any of the comments I've received recently. I do not ignore comments I receive nor am I an ingrate.

I love receiving comments, pleasant or otherwise. For one, it's my arbitrary gauge on whether the reader/commenter
a. breezed through my page
b. skimmed through the post
c. read the article
d. grasped my rhetoric
e. none of the above
f. all of the above

As a reader, I do comment on posts of fellow bloggers whose topics I can relate to.

As a blogger, I know it takes a considerable amount of time, effort, and sometimes even patience (especially with long anti-spam text) to give an exegesis on another blogger's piece. That explains why I used to answer all comments I receive, why I removed my anti-spam, and why I so love getting them.

Being human, I cannot help be offended when I get bashed through those remarks.

Being myself, I cannot keep my temper nor hold my tongue when I feel assaulted with words.

Being a freedom-loving person and a firm believer of free speech however,
a. I'm still allowing anonymous comments
b. I'm still not enabling comment moderation
c. I'm still not activating word verification/ anti-spam text
d. I'm not answering comments (unless needed) although I'd gladly reciprocate by commenting on your site (if I can relate) and
e. I'd still unleash my pent-up rage on crude, impolite, and 'tacky' comments.

Do I make myself clear Mrs. Anonymous Commenter? I know who you are by the way...............

The Year That Was

I'm not usually one to welcome the New Year with a bang. I admit it's not my favorite holiday but since 2007 has been quite a noteworthy year, I might as well catalog the circumstances (in my boring life) of the year that was.

- I turned 30 (Good Lord, now my siblings call me 'old')
- I suffered an early mid-life crisis (depression, waterworks, drama, the works)
- I started blogging
- I read more of Capote, Kundera, Kazantzakis, biographies, and autobiographies: and less of Coelho, Gibran, Morrison, and fashion magazines
- I had 12.5 inches of hair cut off
- I exercised less
- And for the first time in my life, I actually enjoyed having friends

I don't believe in resolutions either. Seriously, resolving to do something doesn't necessarily guarantee you'd actually DO it.

In place of resolutions here's a wishlist of well, wishes and hopes for the year ahead:

- Patience, patience, patience (Dear Lord, I need a lot :)
- Fuseless temper (if only for Joel & my kids)
- Wisdom, courage, temperance, fortitude (you know the rest)
- A large throat to swallow a terrible amount of pride
- An insane amount of luck (When, oh when am I going to win the lottery???)
- Distinction, merit, the works (I don't know what for and with what though)
- A Chanel 2.55 or another Balenciaga City
- A full-time job

Happy New Year to all!!!!

Holiday Dead Weight

I feel like an utter grinch and took about 16 festive quizzes just to prove myself wrong. I finally found one I can truly identify with........

What The Holidays Mean to You

For you, the holidays are about generosity. You give as much as you possibly can to friends, family, and charity. You celebrate the holidays in a minimalist style. You are likely to only give one great present and decorate your house with a few special items. During the holidays, you feel like having fun. Tradition is not important to you... having a blast with your friends is. You think the holidays should be nostalgic and sweet. The holidays bring out your inner child. Your best holiday memories are of childhood foods and traditions. You secretly still wish you believed in Santa Claus.

What Do the Holidays Mean to You?

Seroiusly, what does it all mean to you???

Here's to a meaningful and blessed Christmas to all!

Holiday Anathema

The Christmas season isn't exactly my favorite time of the year. For starters, it's so darn commercialized. I'm not being scrooge-ish but seriously, how on earth can one do some serious soul-searching amid all the parties, events, presents, food, alcohol, sweets, and traffic?

A strong case in point would be an incident just 2 days ago. Joel and I decided to do some last minute Christmas shopping sans the kids at Trinoma. We anticipated the traffic and the huge crowds hence we went as soon as it opened.

By 11 A.M., we were starved and decided to have our lunch early. Due to opposing tastes, we had to go our separate ways. I ordered take-out from Taco Bell, and he ordered his lunch to go from his favorite steakhouse. We decided to meet at the food court.

I got there first and got the best banquet seat in the house. Since he was taking too long, I started nibbling away. Just then, a mom, her daughter (about 6 or 7), and her yaya (local term for nursemaid or nanny) approached me and asked if I was with someone so I said yes. Minutes later, they went back and asked me the same question. I, of course, gave the same answer.

I wouldn't have mind having them but there were about a hundred vacant tables in the food court. The kid throws me a piercing glance followed by a huge tantrum then started yelling at her mom and threatened that if she cannot sit there, she's not eating at all.

I remain unfazed amid all the drama. I'm not moving my fat ass for some spoiled rotten kid.

Joel arrives and little miss spoiled brat decides to shut up. The mom-in-despair, the spoiled rotten kid, and the dumbfounded yaya then settle for a table near ours. The spoiled little beast throws me piercing glances every now and then while showing off her new Winx and Bratz dolls to her yaya.

I swear I wanted to gouge her eyes out. Joel calms me by telling me that she isn't my problem, she's her mother's problem. Which is so true making the brat in me shut up.

I've always believed that the spoiled breed is 'made' and not 'born'. No baby is born spoiled. Spoiled rottenness is not innate.

Bringing up and rearing children is a huge responsibility and to a point, a major obligation that all parents should commit themselves to upholding.

I may not be the perfect mother but one thing I'm most definitely proud of is that my boys are far from spoiled brats. They are the most amazing creatures on the planet and of that, I'm quite certain (proud mama ).

Nonetheless it's still the season to be jolly so in keeping with the times and so as not to wreck my sons' super festive mood, I'm desperately trying to keep a smile on my already wrinkled face.

Christmas has somehow lost its true essence amid all the material indulgences we employ to celebrate it.

I'm still going with the scientific theory that the Lord was born sometime in the summer because apparently there was no hay in December in Nazareth.

I can't wait till it's REALLY 'Christ'mas.

Thirty-Eight Things

Panhandled form Cyberpunk

1. Name one person who made you laugh last night?
My sister, Memai, A.K.A. Chakaness
2. What were you doing at 0800?
Socializing at a party at my parents' house
3. What were you doing 30 minutes ago?
In a brown study
4. What happened to you in 2006?
Irons in the fire
5. What was the last thing you said out loud?
Can't remember
6. How many beverages did you have today?
2 cups of coffee, 2 cups of milk tea, 4 cups of iced tea
7. What color is your hairbrush?
Black
8. What was the last thing you paid for?
Gum
9. Where were you last night?
See # 2
10. What color is your front door?
Brown
11. Where do you keep your change?
Coin purse
12. What’s the weather like today?
Breezy
13. What’s the best ice-cream flavor?
Haagen-Dazs dulce de leche & rum raisin
14. What excites you?
Wakeboarding, bags, Joel, my kids (in no particular order)
15. Do you want to cut your hair?
I already have
16. Are you over the age of 25?
Affirmative
17. Do you talk a lot?
Only when I'm comfortable
18. Do you watch the O.C.?
Only the episodes before they killed off Mischa Barton's character
19. Do you know anyone named Steven?
Do Steven Spielberg , Steven Seagal, and Steven Curtis Chapman count?
20. Do you make up your own words?
Shurevaloo!!!
21. Are you a jealous person?
Ask Joel
22. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘A’.
Ana
23. Name a friend whose name starts with the letter ‘K’.
Kats
24. Who’s the first person on your received call list?
My mom
25. What does the last text message you received say?
Globe advisory
26. Do you chew on your straw?
All the time
27. Do you have curly hair?
Negative
28. Where’s the next place you’re going to?
Never-never land
29. Who’s the rudest person in your life?
I'm not telling
30. What was the last thing you ate?
Chicken empanada
31. Will you get married in the future?
Duh
32. What’s the best movie you’ve seen in the past 2 weeks?
Ray
33. Is there anyone you like right now?
Long term/ concrete/ objective: Joel
Short term/ notional/ subjective: Gerard Butler
Material/ mercenary/ irrational: White Goyard PM tote
34. When was the last time you did the dishes?
This morning
35. Are you currently depressed?
A little
36. Did you cry today?
Nope
37. Why did you answer and post this?
I haven't posted anything in 5 days. I haven't checked my emails in 3 days, hell I barely even touched the computer since. I've been attending Christmas parties nonstop for 4 consecutive nights and I seriously can't keep my mind (and hands) off my kids' new Pokemon Diamond version game of which I've been playing since they've had. In a matter of 2 days (and about 18 playing hours) I'm off to get my 7th gym badge. Can anybody tell me where in the Sinnoh region can I get my hands on my own Lucario?
38. 5 people you tag next?
J.D., for his creative and unconventional take on memes
Leena, for her numerical adroitness

FIN

Temporary Madness

love \'ləv\ n 1 a (1): strong affection for another arising out of kinship or personal ties ‹maternal ~ for a child› (2): attraction based on sexual desire : affection and tenderness felt by lovers (3): affection based on admiration, benevolence, or common interests ‹~ for his old schoolmates› b : an assurance of love ‹give her my ~› 2 : warm attachment, enthusiasm, or devotion ‹~ of the sea› 3 a : the object of attachment, devotion, or admiration ‹baseball was his first ~› b (1): a beloved person : often used as a term of endearment (2)Brit— used as an informal term of address 4 a : unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another: as (1): the fatherly concern of God for humankind (2): brotherly concern for others b : a person's adoration of God 5 : a god or personification of love 6 : an amorous episode : love affair 7 : the sexual embrace : copulation 8 : a score of zero (as in tennis) 9 Christian Science: God — at love : holding one's opponent scoreless in tennis — in love : inspired by affection

All of the above definitions embody love as prescribed by a dictionary.

As much I 'love' the word 'love', there are ceratin aspects of the word I find perplexing. One, it is a very personal matter, even whimsical and capricious at times. Two, it is highly subjective, moodily introspective, and somewhat illusory. Three, it is probably the English language's most misused, abused, debased, and misunderstood word - ever.

One of love's integrants is lust. Lust is probably the simplest and most primitive of its components. Or probably the most hormone-based <wink wink>.

There's another thing called romance or romantic love. Or in layman's term, madness. I was watching an episode on love on the Discovery Channel last week, and they believe that love and madness are very similar in nature. Apparently, the similarity is in one of the brain's neurotransmitters, Serotonin. In the central nervous system, serotonin is believed to play an important role in the regulation of anger, aggression, body temperature, mood, sleep, vomiting, sexuality, even appetite. Increased levels of this neurotransmitter have a calming and healing effect on people. Decreased levels, anxiety and depression.

Subsequently, our body's reaction to love subsides and different areas of the brain are then activated. Thus, attachment or commitment is in order. Among the three, this is probably the most complex. After all, how do you sutain love? If your serotonin levels continue to dwindle, can you stay 'in love' with a person? In short, can we actually keep the love alive?

Just how exactly do you 'account' for love?

Take for example my love for bags. I love bags, my heart skips two beats whenever I see even just a picture of an Hermes Birkin 35 cm in black or a Chanel reissue 2.55 white 226. But that has nothing to do with romance (okay, maybe just a little), more so with attachment or commitment. Why? Just like my former love affair with monogram, I know there will come a day when I will outgrow that lust. Or move on to yet another 'lustworthy' addiction lol.....

Or even wakeboarding. I sooooo love wakeboarding. I have been an addict for nearly 4 years and yet every single time I'm about 50 to 100 meters away from Lago, I start vomiting (another confession). Yes, it's been an inexplicable predicament since day 1. That, to me, is lust plus a little romance and a pinch of attachment.

Let's move on to something a little less worldly. Take my parents and siblings for example, I love them dearly yet I do not feel my anything romantic <eeew> towards them. I do not feel any lust <double eeew> for any one of them. But I do feel a highly strong and very deep cosmic attachment for every single one of them.

I can probably say the same for my children, this time amplify that attachment and affection to a gazillion times. I'm very protective of them (probably to a fault), and I'd kill (literally!) anybody who'd do them harm. Motherhood, to me, is presumably the paradigm of human and altruistic love.

It's much different with my husband though. After nearly 9 years of marriage and almost 10 years as lovers, I still feel 'that' certain desire. I still feel 'in love'. All that plus a deep, cosmic bond. He's pretty much my soulmate, don't you think? But that's another topic.

So here's to love. Transitory dementia. Evanescent lunacy. Temporal derangement. Momentary senselessness. Fugacious idiocy. Temporary madness. Or whatever it is you wish to call it.

Let The Cat Out Of The Bag

I have a handle on the situation.
I have a handle on my space and contents.
My vacant hollow.
Or the items of which I house a dozen odds and ends.
I always know what I possess or what may be un-there or missing.
To study my physiognomy, one might think not much or lacking.
But closer on inspection, I am near divine and worthy of great travels.
A true companion of love and comfort, recognition, the familiar.
I have been held in such a clutch and such a love storm by my mistress and her values.
She takes me aboard a thousand footsteps, always holding on and never once ignoring.
Mostly I am there to steady, to balance her or witness.
She sometimes shuffles through my soul in search of needy things,
like painted sticks and looking glasses of which I keep most dear.
She searches inward and there she looks inside my sacred space.
Full of painted stick and looking glasses,
I am my lady's handbag.
- I Have A Handle On The Situation, a poem by David Roby
(bag pics: all mine)

Aside from my blog and other blogging communities, I also hang around the Purse Forum quite often . There a lot of sub-forums there on practically every designer bag in existence. On each sub-forum is a 'What's in your bag?' thread. Being a purse addict/fanatic/enthusiast/freak, I've posted pics of nearly every single bag I own. But being a (somewhat) private person, I've only shown one bag's innards just one time.

I used to be crazy for those vinyl backpacks from Sari-Sari Store in my teens. I remember at one time having 2 of the same vinyl backpacks. As I got older (or probably a bit more modest), I've learned to value my privacy.

I used to be sooooooo crazy for logos. Thanks to my middle-age exigency, I'm now partial to non-monogrammed bags. Don't get me wrong, I still love them, It's just that I hate those stares I get from people who seem to want to ask whether I'm carrying the real deal. I do not own a single fake honey, never have, never will.

So when I was tagged for this meme by December stunner (and birthday girl) Melai, I was more than happy to riposte.

Say hello to my everyday bag, my '06 Black Balenciaga City Peek-a-booThe auricularFrom the top:
Fino leather checkbook holder, Lacoste long wallet (had it for 9 years), Nokia 9210 (dinosaur-age, my bother calls this a deadly weapon as it is so old and huge), Ipod Nano in Tokidoki ISkin (on outside pocket), Ipod shuffle (Joel's, outside pocket as well), Canon Ixus, Coin purse (I've had it since high school, can't even remember where I bought it), black satin purseket from bag-a-holic

Inside the purseket:Rosary and scapular (both from my paternal grandmother), Louis Vuitton Damier Cles which holds 2 SD cards (for my camera) and my car's spare key, The Sak address book, Givenchy card holder, paracetamol tablets (for my perpetual headeaches), house keys, mints, post-it flags, calculator, oil-control film, metered dose inhalers (for me & my sons' asthma), MAC blot powder, Nars blush in Orgasm, Shu Uemura eyelash curler, Shu Uemura magnifying mirror, Smashbox Tint in Smashing Heat, MAC lipstick in Cherish, Shu Uemura blush brush, Shu Uemura compact face brush, Tweezerman tweezers.

Shoot, there goes modesty and privacy right down the drain.

In the spirit of torch-passing memes, I pass this on to Canuck Chick, Josey, Mae, Ghee, and Beng. Tell me ladies, what's inside your bags? :)

Happy Birthday Manilenya!!!!

Disambiguated Seity

If you were thrown the perennial identity question 'Who am I? Why am I here?', how would you answer?

Frankly, other than stating your name, would YOU even know where to start, much less respond?

Having no concept of selfhood, do you think your identity is either diachronic, synchronic, or both? Hell, I have no idea.

John Locke, a 17th-century English philosopher (not Terry O'Quinn's character in 'Lost'), stated that personal identity is founded on consciousness, and not the substance of either the soul or the body.

That said, how on earth will I ever come up with a de rigueur answer. Here's an attempt.

I am not always be kind but that does not mean I am wicked.
I may not be sympathetic but that does not mean I am not empathic.
I am not righteous but I'm awfully certain I am honest.
I am sometimes sarcastic but I am definitely not high-and-mighty.
I may not be enlightened but I'm positive I'm sharp-witted.
I strive to give of myself but that does not imply I am noble.
I sometimes strive for gain but that does not imply I am self-serving.
I sometimes feign indifference but I am not stoic.
I sometimes find my tongue staggering without purpose but in no way does that suggest I am undiplomatic.

I may not always be sure of who I am, but I'm extremely certain of who I'm not. After all, I am human. Created by The Supreme Being. Of flesh and blood. Of body and soul. Of mind and spirit. Powered by the divine spark, the elan vital.

To quote myself, 'Your reputation may be established, even fabricated by somebody else. But in the end, your character is something you build up for yourself.'

You can walk through life posing as a lamb whilst bitch-slapping everyone behind their backs. As for me, I'd rather be an in-your-face bitch than a hypocrite in denial.

In the words of Truman Capote, 'But without such misjudgements and such faiths, the seas would sleep, the eternal snows remain untracked.'

So now tell me, who are you? Do you know?

Turning Over A New Leaf

New look. New URL. New server. Yay!!!

To celebrate such a momentous occasion, allow me and Sedira to reintroduce ourselves.Just in case you were wondering whether she's 'alive' ;)
A big thank you to Ate Sienna for 'adopting' us.

P.S. I'm still a bit under the weather so give me time to better my layout, finish up on my link lists, and resume my blog-hopping duties. Thanks y'all!

Dreamweaving

I've been beating my brains out trying to come up with my wildest dream. I was tagged for a meme by Leena (Thank you dear :) . I so love and appreciate memes. Over the past month, I've been fortunate enough to have worked on the simplest to the most backbreaking of tags. Most of which have been very, very personal.

It's been nearly 2 weeks and I haven't anything in mind. Pretty idiotic for a self-proclaimed Pinay Dreamer, don't you think?

Don't get me wrong I have countless and immeasurable dreams. From pipe dreams, to vivid phantasms, to hallucinatory visions.

When I was little girl, I dreamt of being a princess. In reality, I am not of noble origin and I have not an iota of royal blood running through my veins.

I once longed to be immortal. Then again, I realized that life, after a certain point reaches a level of saturation. Where everything is damned repetition. That in mind, why the hell would I wish to live forever?

I desperately wish to find a cure for Cancer and AIDS. Alas, I'm no medical genius. I am but an ignorant fool.

I have visions of bringing up my children to be the best they can be (whatever that means). But I am only a mere instrument. I can only stand back in awe as I watch them grow every single day. In the words of my (then) 4-year old son when asked by an aunt whether he looked like his Mama or Daddy, 'Neither, I look like myself because I am me'.

I have graphic hallucinations of standing on top of the world. But just the thought of it leaves me feeling nauseated. And besides, reaching the zenith can only mean one day plummeting down the nadir.

Last Novemeber 2, a 12-year old girl hanged herself. She claims to have lost hope, from misery and poverty. Just a few days ago, a young boy (about 12 or 13) hanged himself after being scolded by his parents in front of their neighbors. I won't even name them in deference to the parents and siblings.

Truman Capote once said, 'The true reason why many people commit suicide is because they are cowards who prefer to murder themselves than murder their tormentor'.

As much I adore and idolize Mr. Capote, I think this one does not apply to children. No no no.

In place of publishing my widest dream, I bespeak great hope.

In memory of the 2 angels who took their own lives due to different circumstances, I will end this meme.

Simply because in a world such as this, in a place and setting such as now, dreams can sometimes prove futile. Dreams have a tremendous weakness, they can always be shattered. In the absence of that dream, I offer a prayer for their souls. And with that prayer, a plea for a world to share the same idealistic hope.

The Gut-Spilling Torch

I've managed to spill my guts quite a number of times already. And just when I thought I've spilled enough, I was passed this gut-spilling torch by Canuck Chick (Thanks again girl ;). With much pleasure, I obliged. Since my sister has been complaining that my recent posts are thronged with statements (read: super long), I decided to add photos just to make them a teensy bit interesting. Without further ado, here's another gut-spilling post.

8 Things I'm Passionate About:
(in no particular order)
1. Hope, Faith, and Gratitude 2. Simulated flight
3. Randomness4. Unconditional love5. GeneticsYeah, I'm the bald little kid in the middle.

6. My Platoon in which I'm (nature-appointed) Platoon Commander.
Coco, Memai, moi, Tiff, Telly, Richard (taken just yesterday during Telly's birthday bash)
Meet my 3 best gals, Telly A.K.A. ECLAVU (who's finally 2 months preggers YAY!!!), Memai A.K.A. CHAKANESS, moi A.K.A. CHEVERLOO, Tiff A.K.A. CHUVANESS. 7. My 2 little angels8. My soulmate, best friend & lover, all rolled into one big hunk
8 Things (yet again) I'm Passionate About:
(I added this category since the ones I've mentioned earlier were priceless. These are my gulity pleasures. After all, I'm a mere mortal. Flawed, imperfect, wanting........ and materialistic at that, lol.......)
(in no particular order)

1. Wakeboarding 2. Designer bags Balenciaga, YSL, LV's......................all genuine, all mine..................

3. Chocolates
4. Cheesecake
5. Pokemon

6. Writing/ Journalizing/ Blogging (it consumes way too much of my time)

7. Books/ Reading

8. Diamonds & bling bling

8 Things I Want To Do Before I Die:

1. Help mold my children's character according to the Supreme Being's plan(s)

2. Travel on a whim

3. Perform a base jump off KL Tower in Malaysia
4. Go on an African honeymoon safari

5. Join a triathlon

6. Read every single novel, essay, screenplay, and story by Truman Capote
7. Get published

8. Secret! haha......

8 Things I Often Say:

(in this order)

1. Shit!
2. F***!
3. Chaka
4. Chuva
5. Chenes
6. Tarush
7. Bongga
8. Charing

8 Songs I Can Listen To Over & Over Again:

(according to my Ipod's 'top 25 most played')
1. Please Don't Turn Me On - Artful Dodge
2. Impacto - Daddy Yankee ft. Fergie
3. With Or Without You - Keane
4. Hate That I Love You - Rihanna ft. Ne-Yo
5. Breakin' Dishes - Rihanna
6. Semi-Charmed Life - Third Eye Blind
7. D'Sound - Tattooed On My Mind
8. There She Goes - The Cranberries

8 Things That Attract Me To My Best Friends:

1. Allegiance

2. Uberrima Fides

3. Brainpower

4. Trustworhtiness

5. Trustworthiness

6. Trustworthiness

7. Trustworthines

8. Trustworthiness

In the tradition of torch passing. I turn this over to 2 of my favorite lady bloggers, the winsome blagista, Melai, and the always in flight, Elay. I know you have a lot of tags to work on so if it's too much, just pick a category. I leave it entirely up to you. Spill your guts!

Of Sex Scandals & Pinays

I could go on 'tagging' people for the next 2 weeks but I'm a teensy bit scared of looking like a stalker as I'd probably be tagging the same set of folks. That said, I'll probabaly resume my 'stalking' in the coming days.

I've managed to be in a festive mood this past week because of all the wondefrul blessings in the form of wonderful acquaintances, heartwarming comments, and surprising memes. Today though, I'll let loose the inner bitch in me.

In light of the recent 'Pinay Scandals', I've pledged (a few days ago) to write something in support of the campaign spearheaded by some fellow Pinoy bloggers. It's been 3 days and I still honestly don't know what to say.

I'm not skeptical about the whole thing, heck I even signed up for it. But come to think of it, it's all a matter of perception.

First off, people who 'google' the words 'Pinay Scandal' over the net are looking for the exact same thing. Pinays. Scandals. Obscenities. To put it bluntly, SEX. I even googled the word 'Pinay', and a website promoting exotic and young Pinays and Asians was the first of 3,350,000 results.

In this day and age, when a 6 year old (maybe even younger) has internet access and even a monkey can be taught to operate a computer, what control do we have over other people's perceptions about us?

I once wrote an article in support (and to straighten a few misconceptions) of a foreigner's view of the Philippines. He was bashed for sharing his impressions and sentiments regarding our beloved country hence I offered my take. Now, after almost 3 moths in blogosphere, I've learned to lighten up. Everyone is entitled to their opinion. No one should be immune to that.

We've already entered the digital age. And along with all the advancements, there will always be drawbacks. To some people, the internet is a huge part of their business or craft. There are a lot of people making a living out of it. To others, it is a diversion from life's trivialities. But to a number of people, THIS is their reality. Maybe even their whole life if you will.

As long as there are people willing to sell themselves through their pictures, sex videos, and by joining sex chats, there will always be predators willing to foot the bill. I cannot even call the former 'prey' as there are sometimes 'willing victims'. Don't get me wrong here, I'm talking strictly of consenting adults. Minors and young children are another issue.

I was asked in one of the blog communities what the word 'Pinay' meant since my blog is aptly described 'Chronicles of A Pinay Dreamer'. I answered 'I am a Filipina. I was born and bred in the Philippines'. Whenever we travel outside the country, I'm frequently asked about my race. Some think I'm Korean, some would ask if I'm part Chinese, others ask if I'm Thai. My father is part Chinese hence my 'Chinese eyes', but even then I've always considered myself 100% Filipino. A full-blooded Pinay. And I sure am proud of it.

My husband does not like the idea of me having my portrait on my blog. He says it'll strip me of mystery and to a certain degree, privacy. It was my choice to do so simply because I wish to seem more 'humane', somewhat tangible. I can post photoshop(ed) images of myself and edit it make myself look 'perfect', but that would be a misinterpretaion, an utter lie. Instead, I chose to share my battle scars because I am, after all, a mere mortal. Flawed, imperfect, and wanting.

I've been devoid of sleep since I started my blog a little less than 3 months ago. I've even turned down Joel's offer to bring me to Batangas (plus he'll foot the bill too lol) to wakeboard, quite a number of times already. And to top it all off, I'm not even getting paid to do this BUT it is my choice to go on. In all honesty, I prefer 'pro bono' blogging to maintain my uncompromisable predisposition.

At the end of the day, it all boils down to choice. I've used this passage before but I'd gladly use it again.

Ad libitum.
A plaisir.
A piacere.

At will.
At pleasure.
At discretion.

In the same way that I can choose my path, there will be others who can and will choose theirs. Matters such as these transcend race, religon, age, even gender.

Perception is also subjective. Your reputation may be established, even fabricated by somebody else. But in the end, your character is something you build up for yourself.

This, after all, is the internet. Where genuine people are rare. Where (cyber) sex comes cheap and easy. Where the imaginary is confused with reality. And where everyone is free to do or say as they please.

That said, I'm going back to the real world (for a while). Where politicians are corrupt. Where war is cliche. Where AIDS and cancer have no known cure. And where 2 little angels are tugging at my shirt as they ask for their dinner.

7 Things You Don't Know But I Do

I'm (usually) never at a loss for words. Whether in a conversation, debate, even in soliloquy, I consider myself (modesty aside) loquacious. This matter though, gave me quite a headache.

I was tagged for this meme by fellow blogger Jon. I'm supposed to spill 7 things you don't know about myself.

If you've been bored, demented, diligent, and/or masochistic, and have managed to go through my posts, I'm sure by now you know my age, surname, height, weight, heck even my waistline. You're also probably aware that aside from my 2 boys who are my own flesh and blood, I have a baby girl who does not belong to our species, homo sapiens. You probably know how many tattoos and piercings I have (although I'm quite certain you have no idea where they are lol). That my heart belongs to a hunk named Joel. That I have a major crush on Gerard Butler. That I used to suffer from an eating disorder. That I am a feminist. That I have quite a number of battle scars. That I am a condescending bitch, more so when provoked or aggravated. That I am an addict. And so on and so forth. Whew. Was there even anything I left out???

Having said that, what on earth could I possibly tell you that you don't already know. After nearly 5 days of racking my brain trying to come up with the answers, here they are:

1. I spent more than 10 hours in labor with my eldest. Since my water broke in my sleep, labor was induced as soon as we got to the hospital. It did not progress so a C-section was in order. Same thing with my second child. Yet no matter how traumatizing childbirth has been for me, I'd probably go through with it again. In two or three years perhaps..........

2. I can read upside down, left side right, right side left, overturned, upturned, inverted. Sometimes I place a book in front of a mirror and read that way. I don't even know why I do that, so don't ask me. That's probably why my eyesight is seriously f***ed up.

3. I'm obssessed with reptiles of all shapes and sizes. I'm especially partial to snakes. Which explains why I'm a doting mother to Sedira. I personally tidy up her domicile, I change her water regularly, and I occasionally play with her. I cannot, however, feed her. I abhor rodents, rats in particular. Since my baby girl eats them, I ask Joel to do the honor. After which, I wait 2 days till I play with her again just to make sure she's digested her prey. Bad momma.

4. I'm quite good at remembering faces and names. I can even remember full names of my classmates from kindergarten. I'm very bad with dates though. I can't remember birthdays of friends, even close relatives no matter how much i try to recall it. Even my own wedding anniversary, Joel has to remind me :(

5. I barely get to sleep but when I do, my mouth stays open (yaiks). I'm asleep so I'm evidently unconscious, right? Consequently, Joel has quite a number of pics as evidence to prove this occurence lol...........

6. During my freshman and sophomore year in high school, I remember desperately wanting to become a nun (I was in all-girls Catholic school, so that explains it). My parents laughed so hard and thought I was joking. As with all my siblings and relatives did when they found out. In hindsight, it was a good thing nobody took me seriously. I would've probably been kicked out of the convent in less than a week.

7. I'm allergic to a lot of things. Smoke (I was diagnosed with asthma when I was 27), oranges (esp. the local calamansi), goat meat, and certain types of alcohol (I can only tolerate red wine and coffee liqueur).


Whew. There Jon, we're even. But that doesn't stop me from tagging you again in the future lol............

So here's to

Mae, whose Sinigang is ever so delectably palatable.
Rhyan, whose Rhyan dot Net is ever so widely diverse.
Buraot, whose Literary Ek-Ek is ever so incomprehensibly mysterious.
PinoySkull, whose Buhay Sysad is ever so giftedly geeky.
Elay, whose Flygirl is ever so fabulously fly.
Javier, whose Go, Blog! is ever so brilliantly techie.
Xerendipity, whose Obnoxious Queer is ever so obnoxiously queer.
And last, but most definitely not least,
Lyka, whose Las Tres Estrellas is ever so bonggaciously bonngganess evah.


Well, what are your dirty little secrets? Do tell...............

Shiver Me Timbers: Drastic Measures (Part Two)

No, I did not shave myself bald a la Britney. I merely had a haircut. It's just a bunch of dead cells, right? So what's the big f***ing deal? Why so overly dramatic? With much preamble, here's the explication.

I'm pretty much a self-proclaimed daredevil. I've always been adventurous, even reckless to a degree. I'm very much into extreme sports. I have 2 tattoos and 4 piercings. I even once squished horse manure with my bare hands on a dare. I'm that deranged.

I'm pretty much up for (almost) anything except when it comes to my locks. It's the length I'm quite anal about. I've always believed that a woman's hair can be her crowning glory or the bane of her existence. Over the years, I've been a brunette, redhead, even (near) blonde. I sometimes have it dyed jet black, and at one point, dark blue.

For nearly two decades though, I've managed to keep it at a certain length. The shortest being up to my armpits, and the longest, waist length. In the early 90's, when Demi Moore (in Ghost) made it uber cool to sport short hair, I wanted to be 'in' and get the same cut. I begged my mother to allow me to have my lock sheared. Her response being, 'If you seriously want your face to look like a huge siopao (steamed bun), by all means get that haircut'. I never asked again.

I couldn't possibly blame her as I was then extremely overweight. She would've been right. I considered keeping it long in homage of her as she has worn hers for nearly her entire life.

Since Rihanna came out with her 'Umbrella' music video many months back, Joel has been constantly bugging me to duplicate the cut. To please him, I went to the salon and just when the stylist was about to shear them, I changed my mind and got a coloring instead. To his dismay, I went home a (near) blonde. A few weeks later, I asked a sister to tag along for moral support. She ended up getting a makeover. Another few weeks pass, and with the intention of having it done (this time), I'm at it again. I went home with a Brazilian (if you have no idea what that is, then goood for you lol). Last week, Joel escorted me. Still, my hair remained untouched.

So why do it now when practically everyone, from Rihanna to Posh, Katie Holmes, even (our local) La Greta is sporting the same cut? I'm certain that by time you get to this part, you'd have no doubt that it wasn't a frivolous decision.

I was really upset the day I wrote Hyperspeed. I even considered putting an end to my blog. For some reason, the ghost of an ex-alter ego that I thought I've managed to exorcise over the past decade reappears on my site. Just when I thought I've mastered the art of forgiving and forgetting, I turned acerbic as 'it' managed to leave me a message.

I felt rage (just that honey, don't flatter yourself) as the memories resurface. Harry & Joan Mier once said, There are times when forgetting can be just as important as remembering - and even more difficult. So true.

In doing something I never thought I'd be willing to do, I was able to vanquish my negativity. Seeing a part of me cut off was like crushing those lousy sensations.

Only now can I truly say that I did hit the mark with my exorcising. And I feel so much lighter too.In hindsight, I know I did it for myself and nobody else.

Shiver Me Timbers: Drastic Measures (Part One)

Hair is vitally personal to children. They weep vigorously when it is cut for the first time; no matter how it grows, bushy, straight or curly, they feel they are being shorn of a part of their personality.
Charles Chaplin


Yes, they are mine.......

12.5 inches to be precise........

No, I have not gone bonkers........

My exegesis in due time.........

Alter Egos

Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.

Anais Nin


Among the determinants I've noticed that has made me aware I've turned automaton is that everyday (sans an alarm) I'm up at 3 in the morning (my internal clock is seriously messed up, I know). Being the hormonal bitch that I am, there are days I feel like putting an end to my blogging nonsense. Presently, blogging serves as my primary creative outlet although I constantly question myself until when I'd be willing to do this.

As much as I try to focus my attention on my 3 boys, I find myself so preoocupied with blogging. But one thing I'm quite certain of is that my career as a wife and mother is my top priority and it is something I'd happily endure for as long as I live.

Writing? Definitely. Maybe not through my blog as I still manage to update my journal but with absolute certainty, something I'd continue until the day I cease to exist.

Wakeboarding? Well, since I feel I've reached mid-life, if and when I do reach the age of 60, I'd still want to carve wakes no matter how wrinkled, saggy, or creepy I'd look by then. Mark my words haha.

Blogging? Hmmmm........ I really don't know. Every single day I find myself with a different answer so I'd have to get back to you on that.

As I was saying (I've strayed far from topic lol), this particular morning I received a pleasant, unexpected suprise (translation: another reason to recommence). A 'tag' from one of my inspirations, Rino.

Rino is a pro biker, whilst I, on the other hand, am not one to mount anything with 2 wheels. So what do we have in common that I've considered him an inspiration? First, we share a deep passion for our chosen sport. Second, a genuine concern and conscious effort to protect the environment. Lastly, we are both full-blooded Pinoys. Again, my heartfelt thanks for passing me a friendship badge.

Since I am not a woman of few words, instead of the usual 'tag', I'm stating why I considered them such. Also, there has to be something we have in common. Without further ado, here they are.......

Jon. I'm not even sure if you've already been 'tagged' but I'm quite certain you'll get 'tagged' a lot. You are such a blessing. Your words and photographs convey much love, faith, and hope, entities that our world is in desperate need of right now. Thank you for counting me as your hero. You are my hero as well. And I do hope you continue with your work for as long as you can as it will never be quite the same without you in the blogging world, as in the real one.

Melai. Yes I am fully aware you were tagged by Rino as well. But being among the most genuine bloggers I know, you are also the very first 'blagista' (your term, pahiram muna lol) I came into contact with. Thank you for being a constant reader, a wonderful advisor, and an avid commenter. I know that doing such eats up a lot of time so I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you've done.

Jason. The real tests of courage are not restricted in the battlefield. Knowing what you've been through, I know you are a living example of true courage. Thank you for your trust and confidence in me.

Julie. Your youthfulness is such a blessing. Thank you for the frequent visits and all your wonderful comments. I really appreciate it.

And to the new friends I'm starting to get to know,
Leena,
Liudmila,
Nessa,
Lizeth,
Nick,
Frogster, and
Rolando.

Thank you, thank you, thank you..........

Hyperspeed

A journey of a thousand sites begins with a single click.
Unknown

The internet is probably one of technology's greatest wonders. With just one click you can find just about anything. You can even google just about anyone with various search engines. And in a matter of seconds, find whatever or whomever it is you're looking for.

Before I started my blog, I only surfed the net for maybe 30 minutes to an hour a day tops. The only sites I frequented were Yahoo (to check my emails), and Eluxury (for purse shopping lol). Now, I spend most of my waking hours in front of a computer and am practically devoid of sleep.

Esther Dyson once said, 'The internet is like alcohol in some sense. It accentuates what you would do anyway. If you want to be a loner, you can be more alone. If you want to connect, it makes it easier to connect'.

I used to wakeboard (especially during the summer) up to 4 times a week. I only skipped wakeboarding for a few months to pay for my Balenciagas. Now that I'm finally free from my self-imposed purse ban, I find myself with a new addiction. I used to jump with glee everytime we would go to Batangas or Tagaytay. Now, Joel sometimes has to drag me to go there. He says he loves seeing me far from a computer. At home, I'm lucky to get more than 3 hours of shut-eye. Far from a PC, I stay in slumberland for 13 hours straight.

I've mentioned in a previous post that among the reasons I started this blog is to reach out to family and friends. One of the consolations being finding a very dear, long, lost bud (Hey Filip, see you in a month :) ).

Of late, I did sign up for a multiply account for my dear friend Filip as Flickr is blocked from the country (or building) she's in right now. Beyond that, I am quite satisfied with my blog and my photo host.

I do not have a friendster account. Joel signed up only recently. I, however, do not wish to ever have one. No matter how open I seem to be, there are still parts of my life I wish to keep private.

There are some people whom I wish to forget. Like my former English teacher in high school (whom I seriously wish were obsolete) who stole my essay, and without my consent gave it to another student and used it to enter an oratorical competition. I only found out after the announcement that they won and the piece was recited onstage (may the rot in inferno).

I may not have had the perfect childhood but one feeling I could distinctly reminisce is the feeling of innocence. There were no cellphones and text messaging was literally unheard of, but I felt but I felt much more connected. YM and chatting were (probably) inexistent, yet I then felt much more sheltered.

The internet has made life so much faster, at hyperspeed, if you ask me.

To a certain degree, maybe it is a form of anarchy. There are no rules here. There is practically no authority. No way of screening or filtering. In this world, censorship is a defect. To a point, chaos.

Among my favorite bible quotes (which I think I've quoted twice over) is from Matthew 16: 26, "And what do you benefit if you gain the whole world but to lose your own soul? Is anything worth more than your soul?"

In the end, you really have to ask yourself, 'Is it really worth it?'.

Only when I find an unimpeachable justification, then I'll get back to you.

Mastering The Art of Falling

Life is really simple, but we insist on making it complicated.
Confucius

Mistakes are the usual bridge between inexperience and wisdom.
Phyllis Thoroux, Night Lights

When I was 17, I thought I knew everything. I felt as though I could conquer the world. Needless to say, I ended up making sooooooo many mistakes.

Now that I'm 30, I have to concede to naivete. The older I get, the more I realize that I know absolutely nothing. Early midlife perhaps.........

I often say that I have absolutely no regrets. I stand by my word. I've made a lot of mistakes in my life. Most of which (if not all), I've already paid for.

When I tore my MCL (grade II MCL tear) more than 2 years ago, I was advised by my Orthopedic Surgeon not to play (absolutely no physical exertion, just light stretching) for a whole month. To an athlete, that's almost like a death sentence. Being the stubborn ass that I am, I disobeyed doctor's orders (I was participating in a competition in less than a month so I felt I had to prepare), and went on ripping kickers and sliders as soon as I felt better. In 2 weeks, the pain went back to haunt me. The good Doc told me that my MCL would never be restored to its original tip top form since I didn't give it enough time to heal. To this day, I'm still paying for that mistake. At least now I know better. Mistakes make the best teachers, dont you think???

Mistakes, once realized, sometimes reward us the end. Had I not made a huge mistake with my ex, I probably wouldn't have met my husband. You get the picture.

My Dad always tells me that a problem well stated is a problem half solved. How do you come up with 2 if you can't state 1 + 1? Makes perfect sense, right???

But what if the problem is quite evident yet you still refuse to accept it's there? How do you solve something you refuse to even acknowledge? Do you honestly think ignoring it will make it go away?

In wakeboarding, even the best of the best (just watch the X Games) suffer the most bitter wipeouts. In the game of life, no one is really spared from problems. Everyone is bound to make mistakes. Falling is inevitable. No exceptions.

The best anyone can do is prepare (for the worst), and hope (for the best). Praying helps a lot too.

I should really start minding my own business tsk tsk..............

An Open Letter to a Dear Fellow Blogger

John dear,

I once told you that I wrote Highly Evolved Defense Mechanisms for a reason. I think it's about time I told you.

I reached a point where I wanted to stop writing. I've managed to burn myself out in such a short time. I started questioning my motives, and whether I should still go on.

I started blogging for personal reasons, some maybe even selfish motives. One of which was for my family and friends to at least get a glimpse of another side of me that they don't get to see. They're under the impression that I'm nothing more than a spoiled brat. I wanted to prove them otherwise.

I used to heckle them to visit my blog and read my posts just so they'd get a chance to know me a little better. Apparently no one is interested. So far, of the 30+ people I've hounded, only my dear aunt, Tita Loi, has managed to read every single post (I suppose, as she's the only person who manages to send me feedback on whatever nonsensical article I have written). My Dad, maybe about half. And my Mom, whom I love so dearly, not a single post. 'I do not have time', she once said. And I never asked again. Ever.

My husband, he's the only living soul who can see right through me. He doesn't have to, yet he has managed to read every single detail, and still manages to give me a pat on the back no matter how much dirty laundry I air out. I'm one lucky girl, I know.

I received criticism (more like an insensitive, mocking jest if you ask me) from a friend(???) who blurted out verbatim, "Ikaw ba talaga yon? Sigurado kang ikaw ang sumulat non? Talaga bang nagsusulat ka? Baka naman kinopya mo lang yun." Translation, "Is that really you? Did you really write that? Do you really know how to write? You probably copied it somewhere."

Soliloquizing, I said, Duh? Is my face not plastered enough on my site? Can you not hear me talking right behind you as you read my bitchy ramblings? I may be a klutz and am utterly devoid of gifts in singing and dancing but I'm quite sure THE SUPREME BEING made up for it through my way with words.

Since I lacked the kahunas to say it bluntly, I said nothing and wrote Random Questions Answered.

I haven't heard from her since and I really don't mind if I never hear from her again.

After that, I somehow felt blogging was such a thankless job. Heaven knows how much my adsense revenues total. And trust me, it cannot buy me an hour's ticket for wakeboarding. I felt that blogging was such a burden. It ate up a lot of my time, even stripping me of much needed sleep.

To me, the ultimate compensation for my sleepless nights is just one genuine notice. I do not even care for compliments, I'm never good at receiveing them. Just one authentic holler can make my day. I do not think it's vanity.

You left a comment (on my recent post) yesterday, and I chance upon your recent article, I cannot help but sense a slough of despond.

You're probably wondering why I chose to go on.

It was a simple tag from another blogger, Melai, that gave me inspiration to go on. It was the feeling that somehow, I've managed to touch a soul no matter how insignificant I felt at the time.

So I ask you, with questions which were envisioned by yourself..........
'How do you see yourself? As a free spirit? Do you recognize the goodness in you that others do? Is there something extraordinary about you that you do not recognize as extraordinary? Is there a chance that your life is more wonderful than the way you currently see it? What does that mean to you?'

I may not know you well but allow me to answer for you. John, you are an inspiration. You are a free spirit. Your good nature shines through in your articles and your photos. Your kindness and wisdom, a blessing.

I wish you well.

Ivy

P.S. You still owe me that tag :)

The Fine Art of Conversation

I have this uncanny habit of soliloquizing. Although i don't think there's anything wrong with it, my husband thinks it's a bizarre practice.

I think it's probably my ADD. But seriously, there is a lack of fairly good conversationalists nowadays. The truly great ones, well, extinct.

I, for one, am not. I talk fast, really fast. To which my 8-year old would object, "No Mama, hyperfast".

Gone are the days of Cicero, Julius Caesar, Martin Luther King, Jr., and Abraham Lincoln. Modern day orators, politicians in particular, rely heavily on speechwriters.

I avoid the news at all cost but since my husband is a current events nut, seeing and hearing it is inevitable. I feel lika an a** everytime we watch televised senate inquiries. Take Senator J****** for example, he can ask intelligent questions - prepared ones, that is. Obviously not by him as I rarely hear a good follow up. As for impromptu, expect a 'no questions, your honor' reply.

A good conversationalist should be intelligent. Not necessarily scholastic, but smart and canny to a certain degree.

A good conversationalist, I suppose, should also be a good listener. After all, a conversation is a form of exchange. Oprah, in this case, is a virtuosa.

Wit, I think, is also a prerequisite. Jay Leno is a master of this fine art. Through his queries (and by the answer he gets) you can sense whether he's conversing with a genius, a nutcase, or a complete and utter dimwit.

A conversation is a discourse. It is not a monologue or a soliloquy.

So why the heck am I still here???

I really have to go now. I have a monologue to wrap up.

Ramblings of A Hormonal Bitch

Or is it raving lunatic??? Or perimenstrual wretch??? You decide.......

Ramblings, at random.......

When I first started wakeboarding nearly 4 years ago, words I could use to describe the scene were 'tranquil', 'serene', and 'a place of solitude'. Now it seems more like a carnival. I do not, will not, and/or won't ever haul my fat ass 185 kilometers (one way) and waste precious gasoline to simply watch artistas, intyendes.........

I was skimming through a primer on women's rights when I stumbled upon an injustice, I mean injunction. Apparently (in my beloved country), if a woman is charged with adultery, she gets a 6-year jail sentence BUT if a man is caught keeping a mistress, he gets to face a maximum term of only 4 years. What the f***! We have so many women in congress right now, what the heck are they doing??? Their nails???

Can anybody tell me the male equivalent of the word 'bitch'? I can't seem to find any..........

Battle Scars

Believe it or not, I happen to love ALL my scars - each and every single one of them. Even with the latest advancements in cosmetic surgery (and a fitting budget), mark my words, I would never have them removed.

Ask anyone who knows me, I call them "battle scars" or "medals". If scars could talk, each one would have it's own unique tale to tell.

The oldest one being the one on my left knee, I got it when I was about 10. I fell off my bike and rammed my knee into a piece of driftwood. That was the last time I ever rode anything with 2 wheels.

There's a huge one behind my left thigh that looks more like a huge burn. Slipping off while ripping a slider (see that yellow slider on the background), the metal pipe managed to scrape quite a few layers of skin. If it weren't for my knee brace [which I have to wear whenever I play because I tore my MCL (Medial Collateral Ligament) falling with my left leg first from the top of a 6-ft A-frame, the huge white thingy on the background, but that's another story], the entire leg would've probably been grated. To top it off, immediately after the scrape, I fell on my ass and slid down the fiberglass siding, thus sharp fibers managed to find their way into my already burning scrape. I was all alone so I drove myself to the nearest clinic which was about 100 kilometers away. After which, I laid face down on the E.R. bed for more than an hour as the doctor tried to pluck every shard. Since the fibers were translucent, removing every single piece was an impossible task. He then proceeded by pouring antiseptic onto my open wound. I'm sure you get the picture, and it ain't pretty.

I have one right above my right eye. Again while wakeboarding, I was on my way to the dock when a newbie went straight at me. Had I not managed to hide under my board in time, she would have decapitated me (she was probably traumatized by my forked tongue as I never saw her again, ever........).

There's another one near it. Right above my eyebrow. I was ripping a slider (the same one that managed to scrape my thigh), I fell off the wrong side and failed to let go of the rope. Smack!!! The side of my face met the end of the metal pipe. The cut would have needed 3 stitches but thanks to the able hands of Ellen and Keren (of Lago) who administered first aid. Also quite a number of butterfly tapes plus heavy antibiotics, I did not need any stitching.

The most visible (and most recent) is the one under my right knee. We were on our way to a restaurant and I was so hungry that instead of walking 10 extra meters, I jumped over the fence not knowing there was a metal bar protruding from the ground, hidden beneath the grass.

I have a lot more scars. Not physical scars but emotional scars. From childhood. My first heartbreak. Betrayals. Bulimia. Depression. Harsh words from a supposed 'friend'. And many, many others which I'd rather not mention.

They will always be there to serve as reminders. Maybe even mementos.

The battle scar on my left knee symbolizes courage. Even after a major wipeout, I need to muster up the courage to try again. Otherwise, I will never mount again.

The battle scar behind my thigh epitomizes willpower. Even after an injury (or a heartbreak), I know I have to gather up my determination because life, indeed, goes on.

The battle scars on my face emblematizes the power of time, and forgiving & forgetting. Given time, our skin (especially our hearts), can forgive but never forget.

The battle scar on my right knee symbolizes restraint. That some things can definitely wait.

The emotional battle scars represent life. There will always be ups and downs. It may not always be fair, but it sure is wonderful.

So I will keep wearing short shorts no matter how old I get or no matter how many stares get thrown my way. After all, I earned them and I will forever bear them like medals......................

Sugar-Coated Ecstasy

Finally, after nearly 8 months of hibernation........................

I'm back in action................. Heaven in a nutshell, to me at least......................Heck, even Joel managed to find his piece of heaven as well......................... And lookie, lookie what I found inside their new (to me) brochure............... Closer, closer...............(taken during last years comp, ahem, ahem, shameless self promotion alert haha) Sheer bliss........


P.S. Thank you Allan D for taking these cool pics...............

Thank you Erwin & Marlene, super enjoy ako haha. Marlene, sorry for the misspell, na edit ko na di na mauulit. Hope to see you soon, sa Friday gusto niyo??? haha :-)

Thank you Joseph & Celina R. Up until last week, I was thinking of shutting down my blog. It's people like you who give me the energy and the balls to go on. I can't wait to see you both again (plus your kids) in December................

Finding Happiness Amid Turmoil

One.......

Two.......My blog is 2 months old today!!! Two full months, 66 posts, and many sleepless nights................

To everyone who managed to read even just a single post, THANK YOU......
To everyone who took time out to comment even just once, THANK YOU......

To everybody out there,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU,
THANK YOU......
you make it all worthwhile :-)

P.S. Sem break has finally started. I'm off to you-know-where to do you-know-what for I don't know how long. I'll be seeing you in a few days.

Have a superlative weekend!!!!!!

Diabolical Idiosyncrasies

Thus in the beginning, the two mental aspects, which are twins
Mutually disclosed themselves in their thoughts, words and deeds,
The one as the better (of the two) and the other (as) the evil
The wise and the intelligent did choose correctly but the ignorant and unwise did not.
-Zarathushtra

I'm convinced that there is good and evil battling inside each of us, each struggling for the upper hand. Though in some, good emerges the victor, and sadly in some, evil emerges the winner.

If you don't believe this theory you're probably either
a. in denial
b. a saint
c. living under a rock
d. a hypocrite
e. an alien

Even in the story of Creation in the Old Testament, it is quite obvious that we are fated to be in the midst of opposing poles between good and evil. Remember the forbidden fruit? You know the rest. Hence, Paradise was lost. Forever.

I was never a religious person. I wish I was though, but I've always been a rebel. I went through a period in my life when I stopped believing in God. Total and complete disbelief. And it was at that low, low point in my that I found him.

Terry Anderson once said, "We come closest to God at our lowest moments. It is easy to hear God when you are stripped of pride and arrogance; when you have nothing to rely on except God. It's pretty painful to get to that point, but when you do, God's there."

Random acts of kindness never fail to amaze and inspire me. Random acts of cruelty evoke feelings of dejection and indignation in me. How can a human being plot against his own kind?

Adam and Eve were banished from Paradise. But there is one thing God left all of us with, FREE WILL. The freedom to make choices without His intervention.

Everyday there is a battle inside each of us.

Everyday we make our own choices.

Everyday we exercise free will.

EVIL may sometimes triumph. GOOD sometimes seems the underdog. But always remember, EVIL will never conquer.

I hope you've chosen your side. I hope you chose well.

P.S. I wrote this article this afternoon with the alleged bombers in the recent 'Glorietta Blast' in mind. Apparently, it turns out to be an 'accident'. Hence I had to edit everything including the title. I'm not trying to sound preachy, intyendes.......... Although I'm really not sold on the whole 'accident' theory. Guess we'll have to wait some more......

Highly Evolved Defense Mechanisms

Sometimes I wonder if there's something infinitely sardonic to preferring animals to people.

I like reptiles of all shapes and sizes. I like snakes. I like turtles. I'm sure you know by now.

Snakes I can identify with because of their solitude and terrorizing facade. Turtles because of their tough looking shell.

I've always loved seclusion. I've always managed to intimidate people I've just met by feigning indifference; by seeming antipatika, maldita, mataray, suplada.

I do not fear death, I said so recently.

Then what is it that would evoke fear in you, she asked.

Heights, I said to myself. But not really, because as soon as I get the chance, I will base jump off Malaysia's KL Tower.

Intimacy and decadence, I retorted.

I'm sure she wanted to ask why but she didn't. Maybe she thought I was being impassive.

Truman Capote once said, "When God hands you a gift, he also hands you a whip; and the whip is intended solely for self-flagellation".

I fear losing anybody I care about. I fear having my heart broken, as it has been many, many times. I fear losing my wit, sometimes even my sanity.

I got teased a lot in grade school because of my weight and my gap teeth. I would cry as soon as I got home. My father told me, "Never let words get to you. Remember, 'Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt me' ". Only then would I be appeased.

Why are tears, especially from a woman, always seen as a sign of weakness? I still cried though, but I did it behind closed doors.

I have a very high tolerance for bodily pain. Even the deepest lacerations cannot make me shed a tear. But the slightest cruelty in expression can make me sob.

These days, I don't cry very often. But when I do, it is out of anger.

That's probably what I love about the written word. I can edit it, I can even delete everything I just wrote. But something that is said, you can never take back.

All venomous snakes are capable of biting without injecting their venom into their victim. This is called a 'dry bite'. They do this to indimidate rather than waste their venom on a body much too large for them to eat.

Even non-venomous constrictors can deliver damaging bites.

In a turtle, the shell is there to make it extremely difficult for predators to inflict damage on their very sensitive interior.

As for me, I'm writing this shrouded in obscure madness. All by myself, but that does not mean I am lonely. I'm going back into my shell now.

Tag, You're It

"How do you see yourself? As a free spirit? Do you recognize the goodness in you that others do? Is there something extraordinary about you that you do not recognize as extraordinary? Is there a chance that your life is more wonderful than the way you currently see it? What does that mean to you?"
John, Chimeric Day Dreams


The other day my fellow blogger Melai, tagged me. In return, I'm supposed to tag 7 other bloggers who have managed to inspire me. A pretty difficult task for a newbie like me as I do not know a lot of bloggers out there. I do read a lot of other blogs but not for purposes of inspiration. I admit to being drawn to 'darkness'. Not for anything else, but seeing 'darkness' makes me appreciate the radiance and magnificence of 'light' even more. Twisted analogy, I know.

I thought I would need a full month to find them. Maybe it was divine inspiration, maybe even fate that I have found 7 bloggers that have managed to inspire me.

Without naming them, I'm supposed to write a sentence or two about them. Here are my messages to the 7 people who have inspired me...................


1. Your warmth is such a blessing, like a cold breeze through the desert in mid afternoon. Your humor and laughter, infectious. You are a true inspiration in every sense of the word.

2. Your honesty to a point of sheer brutality never fails to impress me. Do not let other people intimidate you.

3. Your sincerity and courtesy shine through in your posts. You illuminate the blog world with your wisdom.

4. Your wisdom, depth, and compassion managed to inspire me in more ways than one.

5. Your generosity in sharing your knowledge is Godsend. Keep doing what it is you do.

6. The things you do, I can only dream of. Keep doing what you're doing and inspire more ladies.

7. Your passion for what you do is amazing. It makes me want to do more.


Here's to you Melai, Corrina, Ate Sienna, John, Peter, Elay, and Rino.

You're it. Who's your big 7???


P.S. O hayan Melai, bayad na utang ko haha.........

P.P.S. I do not mind being asked questions. I believe, however, that there is an appropriate time, place, and setting for such. The manner in which it is said counts as well. I get a little feisty especially when aggravated. That explains my corrosiveness yesterday. Or is it lack of sleep? Sinabi naman pati sa inyong hormonal at bugnutin ako.

P.P.P.S. Have a blessed Sunday!!!

National Thank You Day

Today, October 20, is National Thank You Day.

"Thank You" is my one of my favorite phrases. Two very simple and concise words that express gratitude. To celebrate, here's a short list of people I would like to thank from the bottom of my heart. mwah mwah


Thank you God.......for the countless blessings you have showered me with. You are the Alpha and the Omega

Thank you Joel.......for the loving me the way that you always do and more (see 'Hey Handsome' post). I'm lucky to have found my soulmate

Thank you J & J.......for keeping me grounded. You truly are my little angels

Thank you Mommy.......for being a superlative mom. You are my pillar of strength

Thank you Daddy.......for being a great dad. You are my wellspring of intellect

Thank you Tita Loi.......for always being there when I need you. You always had faith in me even when the world did not

Thank you Nanay Cora.......for always being there for us. You are the best lola evah

Thank you Vince.......for being a true friend. You have shown me what it means to pay it forward

Thank you Roselle.......for always being there for me & my kids. You are such a great 'tita' to my kids and you are my most avid commenter and reader

Thank you Alvin E.......for always being kind and patient with my children. You are such a wonderful 'tito'

Thank you Ate Mel.......for all the kind and flattering words you said. You have shown me what it means to give with joy

Thank you Allan, Mon, Joseph, & Cely.......for always reading my posts and making me gush with all your pleasant messages. You make it worth my while

Thank you Melai.......for being so warm and pleasant to a newbie like me. Your joy and 'kakulitan' is so infectious

Thank you Tip.......for perpetually calling me chuvaness, chakaness, & eclavu. You inspired my blog title


If there's anyone out there I forgot to thank.........Sorry..........but just the same, thank you, thank you, thank you................


Go on now, who do you have to thank?

A Skeleton Out of My Closet

Does anybody know this person?

I do.

This was me in my teens. I used to BE her some 14 years ago, although I don't remember BEING her. I was severely overweight. At 16, I weighed in (at my heaviest) at around 130 lbs. (note that I'm only 5'1"). I decided to finally lose the weight when I was 19. This was when I first met my future husband (even then I knew in an instant he would someday be mine). He wouldn't throw me a glance and I couldn't blame him.

I went on a (near) starvation diet. I ate a single pack of Lucky Me pancit canton and ate half of it in the morning and saved the other half for lunch. For dinner, I'd have nothing but Skyflakes and orange juice.

I lost over 30 lbs. in 6 months but not without a price. I had bruises all over my legs and my arms, my hair was falling off, my nails chipped, my skin was really dry, I was super cranky, and my soul, depleted.

Losing the weight was the easiest part. Keeping it off however, was the most difficult.

At 100 lbs., I should have been satisfied, but I wasn't. Instead I felt a need to eat more. I became a voracious eater. I remember feeling scared because I did not want to gain a single pound of the weight I've already lost.

I developed a habit where I would eat to my heart's content, then a few minutes later I would rush to the toilet, face the water closet, stick my fingers (later on my hand) into my throat and then regurgitate everything I ate.

Yes, I was bulimic.

I recall that in one sitting I could gobble down loads of spaghetti, chicken, chippy, chocolate bars, then later running towards the bathroom. I remember feeling a certain rush whenever I did that. It felt exhilarating at first, it was as if I had control over my life. Then I'd feel tired, exhausted. Then feelings of guilt, shame, depression, sometimes even anger would start to set in.

At my thinnest, I remember tipping the scales at only 82 lbs. My Mom and my siblings called me 'soup bowl', because my collarbone was so pronounced, they said they can pour soup on it. At one point, my mother nearly had to carry me out of bed to bring me to a shrink. Even Prozac wasn't enough to help me.

It went on, unnoticed by some, but known by nearly everyone closest to me including my husband. He knew because there were 'signs' I left (unknowingly) behind. Like the smell of my hands, the stench of acid left in the bathroom, the marks on my hands, and the watery, bloodshot eyes.

I used to own 2 weighing scales to constantly monitor my weight. I would weigh myself 3 or more times a day. As if that wasn't enough, I even took diuretics and diet pills.

It went on even during my pregnancies. In order to leave something for my unborn child, I would eat what I call 'markers'. I called certain foods 'markers' because I would vomit until the moment I see them just to provide a little nourishment for my baby.

I felt guilty especially when my second child came out really frail. I felt like I was such a terrible mother and I did not deserve them. I felt shame, disgust, guilt, sadness all at once. But that wasn't enough to stop it.

In 2004 (I was already 27), I was still on my usual routine of bingeing and purging. One day, while I was vomiting, I felt as though my small intestine was being swallowed whole by my stomach. For a moment, I felt my heart stop and I was unable to breathe.

From that moment on, I went cold turkey.

I do not recall ever fearing death. Even at this moment I do not think I am afraid of it. If there's one thing I love about mortality, it's that we have one great equalizer.

It was the thought of my children (then aged 5 & 2) becoming orphans at such a young age that scared the hell out me.

And then destiny. We usually go to Punta Baluarte in Calatagan during the weekends. That weekend, however, they were closed due to management changes (I think). We eneded up going to the resort nearby, Lago. That was when I discovered wakeboarding. Wakeboarding gave me a rush, the kind that didn't make me feel guilty afterwards. It served as an outlet that helped me discharge all the hostility and aggression that I used to aim towards myself.

Of course a very good shrink (my dear friend Vince), and a very stable support base (my husband) were also crucial.

After 8 years of misery, I was finally liberated. It's been 3 years that I have been freed of my tormentor.

Why am I telling you this? I know 2 people very close to my heart, suffering from it. They never said anything, they don't have to. I even tried talking to them (separately, of course) about it. Apparently, both are in denial. The signs cannot be missed.

So if a single soul gets touched by this message. Then I did my part.

I hope you do yours.


P.S. Currently, I do not own a weighing scale. I am bulimic no longer. Last I weighed , I was 94 lbs. Whether I'm heavier or lighter than I once was, I don't f***in' care. It really doesn't matter. And I've never been happier...............

An Ode to Snow White

(Melai, in lieu of the article I promised, I hope this will do for the meantime. Para sa ating mga kababaihan ang post na ito............)

As far back as I can remember, I've always considered myself an eccentric. As a kid (until now), my favorite tales were Foolish Frances, and The Snow Queen. I never (and I mean NEVER) enjoyed reading fairy tales like Snow White, Cinderella, or Sleeping Beauty.

Why in the world were they considered heroines in the first place? What was it they had that made them stand out? Which quality was it that made them superior to their next door neighbor or even their stepsisters?

Maybe I envied them. Maybe not.

Yes, they were kind, no doubt about that. But not 'saintly'.

Maybe they were smart. But not 'ingenious'.

What made them such 'trophies' worthy enough for Prince Charming to risk his neck for? (I don't even know why he's such a catch himself when all I know about him is that he's filthy stinkin' rich and always on a white horse, but that's another topic................)

I'm sure you know why. They were all stunningly gorgeous.

Fairy tales like Snow White made me even more insecure than I already was. I used to curse the cute girls in grade school. Just because they were so darn white, they caught all they boys' attention. Even in high school where only the va-va-voom sexy ones got dates to the prom. I would imprecate them because they had what I did not.

We are at an age where physical beauty is such a commodity. It's so commercialized. I, for one, used to think that the only people who claimed to have 'inner beauty' were the ones who lacked it's physical component. I used to think that the only way to get a man to notice you was if you had flawless white skin, a 36-24-36 frame, and a face to rival any beauty queen.

I look at modern day philanthropists like (the late) Princess Diana, Queen Rania, or even Angelina Jolie. If they weren't as stunning as they are, would they still be as hounded as they are by the media? Would they still be exemplified as modern day heroines?

What about women like Marie Curie and Mother Teresa. Or Filipinas like Gabriela Silang and Teodora Alonzo. Or Margaret Thatcher, Indira Gandhi, Ellen Johnson-Sirleaf, and Corazon Aquino. To me, they are the epitome of beauty.

Maybe it's called midlife or probably a certain level of maturity to be able to see past the external. There's some beauty we see, some we even hear, but the most resplendent, we feel inside.

Physical beauty is so f***in' overrated.

So here's to us plain janes . Sheer, unadulterated, non-airbrushed (or photoshoped) beauties. Myself, Melai, Ate Sienna, Mommy, Tita Loi, Ate Mel, Tany, Telly, Celina, and all Pinays out there.............. Let us bask in splendiferous glory and our beautiful Kayumanggi skin. Mabuhay!!!


P.S. Melai, I've only been blogging for a little over 6 weeks pa lang. Pinasakit mo ang ulo ko. I honestly don't know any other bloggers except for you and Ate Sienna. I still owe you an article though :-) saka isaw at yema...... haha

My Happiness Index

If there was an award for 'Most Moody', I'd be an indisputable and undefeatable champion.

When it comes to happiness, I'd probably also get an award for 'Most Shallow'. My criteria being as deep as a mud puddle. To give you an example, here's a preview of my happiness index; 1 being the lowest and 10, well, a state of euphoria.

receiving heartfelt messages from friends: 8.5
getting 10 hours of (straight) sleep: 8 (I haven't had this in a while though)
giving birth to my eldest: 10
giving birth to my youngest: 10
doing absolutely nothing: 7.5
first kiss with Joel: 10
watching Sedira: 9
my wedding day: 10
seeing 'chakaness' on google: 8
eating 3 Krispy Kreme doughnuts: 8
buying my first luxury item with my hard-earned moolah: 7
getting a colorful greeting card from my son/s: 8.5
seeing comments on my comment page: 8
an 'i love you' out of nowhere from Joel: 9.5
an 'i love you' out of nowhere from my son/s: 10
wakeboarding: 1,434,452.54 (malapit na ko mabuang, 2 weeks na lang haha)

O see, I'm the 'Most Shallow', where's my award???


P.S. I may be moody but I'm not 'pikon'. I value opinion. Everyone is entitled to one (see my last month's Malou Fernandez article). The reason why I got upset over the comment (see story below) was because (to me) it did not sound like an opinion, more like a judgemental pre-conceived notion. The remark was not meant to humor anyone but merely a show of something he does not/ will not and/or won't ever understand. I don't mind comments like 'Yuck', 'I hate snakes', I'm scared of snakes', those remarks I can call opinions. But to use words like 'filthy' and 'disgusting' to portray them, and to state his opinion (with hearsay and not hard proof to back it up) and make it sound as if it were factual, THAT detonated the bomb within...........

P.P.S. Or probably I'm just a little emotional these days when it comes to Sedira as she'll be leaving me in the next few months. I've realized that she has entered an age of sexual maturity and for her to complete her cycle of living, I would have to give her up to someone who truly understands and appreciates her. The thought alone puts me in a state of melancholy. And when that day comes, I'm sure my heart would break into pieces.............

P.P.P.S. I meant every word I've said and I take nothing back.

P.P.P.P.S. Melai, salamat ng marami sa lahat lahat ng komento mo. Touched naman ako. Biglang pumanaw kaninang umaga ang gigil ko kay Mr. Ignoramus. Tama na, sobrang flattered na ako baka maging kare-kare at lechon bigla yung isaw at yema na utang ko sa 'yo haha...........

Dante N, bakit mo naman inindyan ang waswit ko??? Pero sige na nga, dahil sa mga sinabi mo (sa asawa ko) tungkol sa blog ko, friends na tayo. Salamat sa sinabi mong malikhaing bata ako, dahil yan sa gatas na iniinom ko nung beybi pa ako. Simula pagsilang, gatas ng ina agad ang nilalaklak ko, hanggang 9 na ako, may baon pa rin akong 'bote' sa iskul haha.............

Allan D, utang na loob, tigilan mo na ang pagtawag sa akin ng 'Madam' at 'Donya', unang una wala akong datung, pangalawa, hindi ako mashuba. O baka mashuba na nga ako, di lang masabi ng asawa ko??? Na conscious tuloy ako.........

Hey Handsome

Pssst......... Sa pinakapogi, pinakamakisig, pinakamacho, pinaka 'hunk', pinakamabait, pinakapasensiyoyso, pinakamaabilidad, pinakamamahal, at lahat na ng pinaka sa buong mundo ko..............

Oo, ikaw.......... Joel A............

Happy birthday!!!

I wanted to give you a Rolex Perpetual Cosmograph Daytona or a Tambour LV Cup Automatic Regatta Chrono, but since I'm broke I have nothing to give you.

In the absence of that material present, I hope you'll love this epistle from the bottom of my soul (and a million kisses) as you would that Rolex or LV...................


Joel,

I may not always tell you that you've made world of difference in my life.
I may not always tell you how much I value all I've learned from you.
I may not always tell you just how much I love you.

I want you to know that you've made a difference - a wonderful difference, in my life.

Thank you for being the man that you are that I married.
.......... for always putting up with me no matter how wild and unruly my moods can get.
.......... for always tolerating me no matter how short my temper is.
.......... for providing for me and our sons with everything as best as you can.
.......... for your patience, compassion, and understanding which gives me great relief to know that I have the perfect example for our boys.
.......... for loving me the way that you do.
And for being the kind of husband, lover, best friend, and father that you are.
Thank you.

I can't imagine what my life would be like if you aren't in it.
You have no idea how much joy you bring me.
I give you my love, no matter how imperfect it may be, knowing that in giving it, I find happiness myself.

I love you very, very much.

Happy birthday.

The Importance of Being Earnest, este Eldest....

What do Ferdinand Marcos, Oprah Winfrey, Bart Simpson and over half of all the U.S. Presidents have in common???

I'm sure you can tell by my post title. They were all firstborn children.

'Firstborns are natural leaders. They also tend to be reliable, conscientious and perfectionists who don't like surprises. Although, firstborns are typically aggressive, many are also compliant people pleasers.......Also, firstborns are perfectionists their whole lives. ' (source: cbs.com)

I am the firstborn among 6 kids. My mother is also the eldest among 6 children. When My Mom and I argue, naghahalo ang balat sa tinalupan. She won't let me have the last say because she thinks she's always right. Well, I wouldn't let her, because in my opinion I'm never wrong. Hence, the recipe for disaster.

If you think being the eldest is a bed of roses, think again. It's not as easy as it seems. There may be certain privileges but a lot of responsibility comes with it. I recall attending my younger siblings' PTCs and First Communion(s) when both my parents were busy. I remember washing the pwets of my younger siblings. Maybe because of the (slight) burden, we do have the tendency to bully, I mean boss around, I mean guide the younger ones sometimes.

I remember a few years back, while my sisters & I were in a mall we chance upon this shirt
"Ate, get that shirt. It's so you", one of them exclaimed. I ended up buying it tuloy. It's a good thing I was in good spirits otherwise talagang maghahalo ang balat sa tinalupan.

On Middle Children:
'Middle children may not feel they have a special place in the family so friends and peer groups become much more important. They can usually read people well, they are peacemakers who see all sides of a situation, they are independent and inventive.' (source: cbs.com)

My husband Joel is a middle child (the 4th of 7). Middle children are usually the mediators in the family. As with anything, he is always an arbitrator.

Or my sister Telly (also a middle child), anytime I complain she always tells me "Hayaan mo na, okay lang yun". Minsan kahit umuusok na ang ilong ko sa galit, "Hayaan mo na lang" is all I hear from her.

Aside from being peacemongers though, I've noticed they are very patient and at times, secretive.

On Lastborns:
'Babies of the family are social and outgoing, they are the most financially irresponsible of all birth orders. They just want to have a good time............While lastborns may be charming, they also have the potential to be manipulative, spoiled or babied to the point of helplessness.' (source: cbs.com)

Being the lastborn, my sister Memai is a typical bunso. Although she is very outgoing, she is a bit more 'financially responsible' than the ones in between us. But one thing's for sure, no matter how old we get, I will always think of her as the baby of our family.

If firstborns have the tendency to be MBs. I do agree that (unguided) lastborns have the tendency to be SPOILED BRATS. O batu bato sa langit..............

On Only Children:
'Only children are firstborns in triplicate. They are even more responsible and even bigger perfectionists. They usually get along better with people older than themselves.' (source: cbs.com)

I personally don't know anyone in this category. I'll probably get back to you on this one.......


My good friend Vince and my dear sister Tip are psychologists so I'm very, very lucky to get a lot of (free) info and advice. Apparently, there's more to this pa. Take Joel for example, he may be a middle child but he is the first born male so he has a lot qualities of a first born. So when we argue, I don't always get the upper hand. Or my brother Richard for instance, he may be a middle child but he is the only male so he also has characteristics of an only child. Although seriously, I think between him and Memai, he acts more like the bunso. (Good thing he doesn't read my blog haha)

Apparently, birth order does have an impact on our personalities. See, it's not my fault I get bitchy at times. It's nature's fault, and besides it's my birthright. Am I right, or am I right???

The Philippines Through the Eyes of A Filipina

The Philippines Through the Eyes of a Filipina
By Ivy Agustin
http://blackbaies.blogspot.com/, October 2, 2007


I received a copy of 'The Philippines Through the Eyes of a Foreigner' through an email last June 2007. Why did I not react then? First, I did not have my own blog yet. Second, and more importantly, I did not see the need to do so as it was one man's sentiment and there was some truth to it. So why am I reacting now? Well, yesterday as I was sorting out my email I chance upon the letter again and then later on as I was doing some research on Filipino culture I chance upon the same essay. This time though, I was surprised to see a lot of reactions from my kababayans, ranging from defensive to violent rections. Why be so harsh on the guy when he is merely voicing out his sentiments as he is entitled to in the first place.

Although there are some truths in his essay, there are also some overstatements.

Let me start with the sad truths:

1. Yes, it is true that we do have streets lined with street people, beggars and squatters.

But, let me remind you that those people did not dominate our sidestreets overnight.

Once upon a time, those people used to live happily in the rural areas. Then one day, a politician named Mr. Trapo arrives in a shiny limo and promises them the sun, the moon and the stars. But there is a catch, they have to go to his town to help him win elections by becoming 'flying voters'. They were pledged mammoth promises, given a few measly bucks and picked up by huge Sarao jeepneys bound for Zion. After Mr. Trapo wins his election, he leaves all the necessitous folk behind. With their families still with them, hungry, broke and exhausted, where do they go now? With very little money left from Mr. Trapo, they begin building shanties along the sidestreets. And the rest as they say is history........

2. Yes, it is true that our roads are cursed with pollution and our public utility vehicles are in disreputable states of repair. Yes, we have streets full of potholes and unrepaired streets.

Then one day, after Mr. Trapo is sworn into office, he becomes Congressman Trapo. He decrees that the roads be repaired and lined with asphalt. Since he has the power to pick the contractor, he selects the one who offers him the most proceeds. And because the contractor has to give a huge chunk of his earnings to Congressman Trapo, he figures that to earn more he could probably gain more by using substandard materials. That explains the potholes.

Congressman Trapo runs for the Senate and wins. Senator Trapo is now even more jaded by all his power. He does not care (or he has been bribed enough) to overlook that the other government subsidiaries are allowing bus comapnies to import buses that are really old and dilapidated. So that explains the disintegrating vehicles and the pollution that comes with it.

3. Yes, it is true that our educational system allows children to attend schools without desks or books to accommodate them. Yes, it also true that teachers, even college professors, are paid salaries so disgracefully low that it's a wonder that anyone would want to go into the teaching profession in the first place.

Senator Trapo has his share of the The Pork Barrel, A.K.A. Pork, Countrywide Development Fund (CDF) or Priority Development Assistance Fund (PDAF). These are funds given to both members of the Senate and Congress, these are discretionary in nature so it is up to Senator Trapo to identify the projects that will be funded from these funds. Senators get P 200 million each while the congressmen are allotted about P 70 million each. To have something to show for, Senator Trapo builds small waiting sheds with a huge picture of his face and his name in large fonts to advertise what he has done. He forgets about the public schools that cannot accommodate half the school's population. Senator Trapo also needs more funds to help him in his re-election bid. He forgets about the teachers who, aside from a meager salary, work long, grueling hours.

There are a lot of Mr. Trapos all around us. He could very well be holding office at your Barangay Hall, the City Hall, the House of Representatives, the Senate, maybe even in Malacañang. Who knows?

There is no ending to my fairy (goblin) tale. The rest is up to you.


As for the overstatements, here's my take on that:

1. Filipinos do not worship, almost slavishly, everything foreign. Foreigners are not looked up to and idolized.

Filipinos are essentially warm, nurturing, and tolerant to a fault.

Do not mistake Filipino hospitality for worship. Having said that, it is but natural for Filipinos, even Asians in particular to be generous givers. Luxury goods, more often than not, imported brands flatter not just the giver but the receiver as well. Isn't that what it's about, status quo?

Case in point, last week my husband & I were in Greenhills for an errand. In case you don't know, it is a shopping mecca for everything faked or copied. We traverse the tiangges as I wanted to do some research on the demographics of people who patronize fakes. Surprise, surprise. In one corner, we saw 2 Americans (males) searching for an 'authentic looking fake' briefcase. We walk some more and more and we see 3 foriegners (they sounded British but I wasn't sure) looking for 'authentic looking fake' Mont Blanc pen. We walk a bit more and we see 2 foreigners (males) looking for 'authentic looking fake' Louis Vuitton bags for their girlfriends. Is that what character is to you? I'm not even making this up.

Allow me to spill another anecdote. A few months ago I was at Louis Vuitton in Greenbelt waiting for my purchase to be wrapped when I was approached by a man in his 60's (about my Dad's age) asking my impression on 4 LV bags laid out in front of him. He said he was having a hard time deciding which one to pick as an anniversary present for his wife and the SA(sales associate) wasn't much help. I gladly oblige. Mind you, he was Filipino, very simply and unostentastiously dressed. He didn't look like a fashion victim nor did he look uber rich. Maybe just like the rest of us, he appreciates a little luxury. Don't you think?

Even in HongKong, walk around and you'll see about 60% of the locals are carrying LV bags. Real ones, I'm sure. We went to all 3 stores and all of them were packed. In one store, we had to wait in a long queue just to get in. You wouldn't call them slaves to foreigners, would you?

2. Filipinos are not itching to leave the country.

It's just that sometimes, for some people, there seems to be no other choice.

Do you think our OFWs would still leave the country if they were given the same rate here as they are given abroad? Domestic helpers abroad are paid more than thrice over than what our teachers are paid here.

In the United States for instance, the minimum wage (average) is about $6.00 an hour. Did you know that that same amount is the minimum wage here BUT for a full day's labor? I hate it when I hear foreigners say, 'Oh, the gasoline prices here are the same as in the US' or whatever country. No matter how the numbers match, it's still not the same. No matter how our government rubs all sorts of figures on our faces, they mean nothing. Absolutely nothing. Why? Because we, the Filipinos, feel nothing. The government has nothing to offer. The jobs they claim to have are mediocre compared to what we as parents have to pay for in tuition fees. What jobs await U.P., Ateneo and La Salle graduates? Jobs at call centers?

To strive for something better is no shortcoming on our part. We will always strive for the best, not just for ourselves, but for our families and our nation.

The government claims that it is helping boost tourism in our country. How exactly?

When we went to Bangkok just a few weeks ago, I wanted to visit Siam Paragon. We could've walked as the mall was only about 5 kilometers from our hotel, I merely wanted to ride a tuk tuk so we hail one to take us there. Since the cab and tuk tuk drivers there understood very little English I brought a map, a picture of the mall and a copy of the exact address. About 15 minutes and many kilometers later, still no mall in sight. He brings us to a jewelry store, when we asked why, he said that he's bringing us there at no extra charge to us. It's just that everytime they bring in tourists, they get a coupon for free LPG (their petrol) from the government. We aren't under any obligation to buy, just come in for a visit. He then takes us to another shop (and thus my asthma was triggered by the stench of LPG). We ended up buying some goodies as he says he will get a small commission if we do so (yes, we were that gullible, but to us it was being helpful). Even during the temple tour, the tour guide told us that it was compulsory for them to bring tourists to particular spots. That is because their government encourages exactly that. Do you think the tricycle drivers here would get an incentive if they bring you to Luneta? I don't think so.

But what about tourism in the Philippines. My husband & I were surprised to see on a cable channel that some of our museums are still open. Note that it was on a cable channel and not even a local channel. Up until that moment we thought all our museums have closed down. Is that the government's definiton of 'boosting' tourism?

We are a free country. We are free people. We are entitled to our own opinion. In the same way that each of us is free to voice that opinion. If you'd want to block or edit everything negative you hear just to make it favorable to you, won't that be the start of censorship?

The reason behind my poking fun at Filipino drivers (in my blog) isn't to insult, ridicule or degrade them but maybe, just maybe with those little insights I could reach out to someone to do something about it, be it by doing better at it (it is a skill after all) or by at least implementing the laws that are there for a reason.

Hats off to Mr. Barth Suretsky. I do believe that it was in his best intention to put a little perspective into our culture and I take no offense whatsoever. I thank him for taking the time to analyze the things that somehow puzzle me as well.

To all foreigners, always remember this, we Filipinos have managed to unseat 2 presidents in the last 2 decades. It is my belief that we can do so again. It's just that at this point, there is no one person who could penetrate the system and not be spoiled by it. It will take time, discipline, and the will to change in each of us. Like I said, probably not in my lifetime. But soon, I hope.

I am a Filipino and I am proud to be one. I love my country and it is here that I will spend my old age until the rest of my days.


I hope you can say the same for yourselves.

The Ultimate Secret to Happiness

Do you want to know the ultimate secret to happiness???

Do you really want to know???

Really???

Really really???

Really really really???????


Sorry to burst your bubble but there isn't any.

Someone once said, "One is free when he knows how to keep in his own hands the power to decide, at each step, the course of his life."

Too deep? Allow me to give you a concrete example.

A few days ago, during my son's fair, while I was queued up for horror booth tickets, I hand over the rest of the tickets for the carnival rides over to my 8-year old son so as not to get confused as there were different tickets for the rides, parlor games, computer games, hoops game and the horror booth. Once we got our horror booth tickets, we rush over to the dragon wagon first as the horror booth won't be open till the next hour. While we were waiting, I ask my son where the tickets I handed him were. He insists he gave them to me when I distinctly remember giving it to him. I had 3 choices:

A.) Get upset and make a fuss over the incident after all those tickets were worth a few hundred bucks.

B.) Insist we go home as we don't have any more tickets for the rides.

C.) Forget the whole thing and get new tickets.

Can you guess which one I picked???

If you guessed A, you're wrong. Why would I do that? The sun was (still) shining and we had a blast with all the other rides.

If you guessed B, wrong again. We were waiting in line too long already and we want to ride, ride, ride some more.

If you guessed C, then you're right!!! Sorry, no prize for you. If you want, come over to our house, I'll give you yema haha. Kidding aside, why would I want to focus on what we just lost? I was thankful that I didn't lose any of the kids as there were a lot of people there and the kids were running around all the time. I was glad I didn't lose anything as I was carrying 2 backpacks, my purse, a ginormous paper bag, 2 cameras and a handycam. I was happy because while we were there screaming our lungs out during the rides, it did not rain even though the clouds were really thick (although sadly, it rained when we left).

In the end, I believe it's all about choice. I am happy because I choose to be happy. If I spent my time obssessing over the things I lose every single day, I'd always feel miserable. If I complained and whined over problems I have to face everyday, I'd be depressed, not to mention all the wrinkles that would show up on my face.

I may not be the richest, smartest, prettiest (well, to my 3 boys I am haha) but I do appreciate everything and everyone in my life. That doesn't mean I don't get upset. Believe me, I do and very often when I'm hormonal. But I try not to dwell on those feelings. I always try to find ways to cheer myself up. That's what I love about blogging, I get to rant about the things I don't like and rave about the things I do.

No one thing or one person can guarantee you happiness. It's all YOU. If there's one thing I've realized in my short life, it's that happiness lies not in the external world, but within one's soul.

I hope you find your happiness as well......................

Your Questions Answered

Here are my answers to some of the messages and emails I've received over the past week.......................

To AM, AD, MS, D, RDS.........Yes, I took ALL those pics in my motorcycle post myself. Some of which while driving. Bad, I know. Well, what am I to do, ang titigas ng mga ulo nila. You'd be surprised that 80% of those pics were taken within a 10 kilometer radius from where we live. Grabe noh. There are times Joel has to grab my camera away from me in fear of me being attacked or accused a paparazzo. Unless I specify a photo credit, the picture was taken by yours truly. Nga pala, the other day in Greenhills I saw a parked black Lincoln Navigator with plate number ---111, I know it belongs to an Estrada. While drooling, I was about to pull out my camera when Joel pulls me away from the very luxurious vehicle. Baka mapagkamalan daw akong paparazzo and/or stalker at huntingin ako bigla mwahaha..............

To MW..........As for my age, go figure..........Sinabi ko na ngang snake ako eh. If you want my mental age, then I'm 10. Although I'm always told I look like I'm 17 bwahahaha (kapal)...................

To RSI..............My pills seem to be doing the trick as my mood swings are gone (well, almost) and the dry spell is over haha. Joel sure is very, very happy wink wink.....................

To TTP & TJA............Thanks for the very nice emails you sent. Touched ako. I hope you get to read all my posts. I'm gonna dedicate a post I'm finishing to both of you, I just need a few more pics to complete it mwah mwah.................

Also pipol, please stop butchering my blog title and my blog address......................

My blog name is CHUVANESS......CHAKANESS......ECLAVU......
NOT chuvaneness,
NOT chuvachenes,
NOT chenenes..................
Why that name? It's a term of endearment my sisters and I have been using for the longest time, long before it even became as overused as it is now........................

My blog address is http://blackbaies.blogspot.com/
NOT blackbabies,
NOT blackbees,
NOT blackies..................
Why that blog address? Well,
blackmamba.blogspot was taken,
so was black_mamba
so was blackmamba007,
pati blackmamba7, blackwater, black_water, blackwater7, blackwater007,
dahil sa pagod na pagod na ako sa kaka re type, lumingon ako at VIOLA............
I see my favorite candle, staring at me from my side table, and because I love black and she's black.................the rest is history.

Although I still count myself lucky since black_mamba was still available for a username, so that I'm using now. BTW, baies (pronounced bays) is French for berries, just so you know...............

Clear???

P.S. Chizms itech, remember the woman in my plastic surgery post? Grabe, I saw a very recent picture of her in a mag, and not only are her boobs, nose, lips fake.... pati eyelids niya na rin.....she used to be pretty, now I think she's starting to look like a freak....... ewan ko lang kung alin pa.......Did you know there is such a thing as labiaplasty? It's the surgical reduction and reshaping of the labia................isip isip

Trout lips + Bisugo eyes + Silcone or saline jugs + phony nose = (photo credit: MSN.com)

In your quest to look young, baka lang magmukha kang nang ganito
bwahaha


babushka

Dear Diary

Today, I'm a free woman. mwahaha. My kiddielets have been with their dear Tita Telly since yesterday, as today is home study day yehey. Joel is out on site. So technically, parang day off ko ngayon. I'm freeeeeeeee, free I tell you. No, dirty minds, not to drool over Gerard Butler's half-naked pics but to catch up on my cleaning, organizing, and reading. While rummaging through our bodega searching for staple wire, I chanced upon my old diary circa 1997. How time flies noh. Ten years ago my thoughts were predominantly on teenage crushes, love, love, love. Puro love (at ang ganda pa ng handwriting ko noon chuva). Among the things written there was a copy of questions once asked to Anthony Hopkins by GQ or Vanity Fair, see, it's been so long I can't even remember. I'm not a big fan of Sir Anthony Hopkins (I didn't even care what his answers were) what struck me was the was the type of questions asked. It's like a grown up autograph book. I've always believed that if you ask an intelligent question, you're bound to get a rational answer. Pag bopols yung tanong mo, e di bopols din ang sagot na makukuha mo, da va. Anyhoo, I was amazed because among the 28 questions which I answered 10 years ago (14 ata ako nun, ahem, liar liar pants on fire), half of my answers remain the same, and the other half has changed. And since ayaw niyo 'ko tanungin, ako magtatanong sa sarili ko. mwahaha

Moving on..........

What is your idea of perfect happiness? anytime I'm on top of my wakeboard haha

Which historical figure do you most identify with? Marie Antoinette

Which living person do you most admire? Oprah (hindi ko kilala); My mother & my Tita Loi (kakilala ko)

What is the trait you most deplore in yourself? OCD & ADD

What is your favorite occupation? Motherhood

What is your most marked characteristic? Idiosyncratic behavior

Which talent would you most like to have? Singing and dancing hahaha

What or who is the greatest love of your life? JLA (who); wakeboarding and bags (what)

If you can change one thing about yourself, what would it be? My limbs, I want longer ones!

If you can change one thing about your family, what would it be? Secret!!!

Which words or phrases do you most overuse? chuva, chaka, shungak, eng eng

When and where were you happiest? 05.22.98/on the road somewhere along Manila

What do you dislike about your appearance? My limbs

Where would you like to live? Very near the beach

Who is your favorite hero of fiction? Holly Golighty (Breakfast at Tiffany's) & Cathy Ames (East of Eden)

Who are your heroes in real life? My mother

What is your most treasured possession? My diaries and scrapbooks

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery? O.J. SIMPSON !!!!!!!

What is the quality you most like in a man? Masculine stillness

What is the quality you most like in a woman? Feminine strength

What are your favorite names? Joel, Jorel, Joshua

What do you consider your greatest achievement? Motherhood

What is your greatest fear? Heights

What is your greatest regret? Absolutely nothing!!!

If you were to die and come back as a person or thing, what do you think it would be? Queen Rania Al-Abdullah (Person); falcon (animal)

How would you like to die? Painlessly!!!

What is your motto? If you cannot heal the wounds of your past, you will continue to bleed.

The answers in purple and italic are the ones that have changed, the white ones are the same answers as 10 years ago.

How about you, how would you answer?

Mornin'

Grrrrrrrrrrrrr..............

Sorry peeps, I woke up on the wrong side of the bed today. At times like this, there is only one prayer (my favorite) that can calm me................


The Serenity Prayer


God Grant me the Serenity to accept the things I cannot change

Courage to change the things I can

And the Wisdom to know the difference.......

Amen.


Have a great day!

Economizing, My Way

Yes, I do own purses ranging from US$600 to $2,000.

No, I'm not rich nor did I marry rich.

No, I do not have debt, credit card debt, kahit anong debt, pinagkakautangan ng utang na loob, yun ang marami.

Let's just say I'm really good with numbers and I'm good at economizing. I may be able to splurge on certain things but I do scrimp (read: cheaposaurus) when it comes to other things. Let me illustrate.

Food - Forget pate de foie gras or creme brulee. I never fancied fine dining. Marunong akong magdildil ng asin. My husband is amazed at the fact that when I'm saving up for something, I can eat itlog na pula at kamatis for weeks on end. At kakayanin ko pa uli for my next conquest. mwahahaha

No parties, no bar hopping, no karaoke, no alcoholic drinks, no smoking - Well, I never liked attending parties, the only ones I attend are family events. I'm a homebody, so I don't leave the house unless I have to. I may love music, but I cannot sing to save my life, so I just listen, preferably at home. Alcohol, I'm allergic to the stuff. I've been hospitalized a couple of times, esp. in my teens for tasting tequila, rhum, brandy, and gin, separate occasions of course. It made my entire face swell, nagmumukha akong oso. I once tried to smoke, but it did taste kinda weird, parang lasang ashtray. Besides, I'm asthmatic and a mere whiff of smoke makes me reach for a nebulizer.

No wakeboarding for months - Wakeboarding is my droga of choice. I started in the summer of 2004, and on the average I used to go about 2 to 3 times a week. Competition season, about 4 times. That was last year. Ngayon, pahinga muna. A one-way trip to Lago is about 150 kilometers from our house. Imagine how much I've saved on petrol. Add to that the additional expenses for toll fees and food. Oooh, and the membership fees aren't cheap as well. It's been 7 long months and counting........ Malapit lapit na ako masiraan ng bait. huhuhuhu

Manicures and pedicures - Thanks to my nailbiting habit (since age 4) which I never was able to kick, I never needed manicures dahil lagi namang upod na upod ang mga kuko ko. Imagine how much you'll save from never having to get manicures or pedicures.

Note that the above picture shows only my fingernails, you don't wanna know how my toenails look like, nangamatay na silang lahat! mwahahaha

How about you, how do you economize???

P.S. Thanks very much for all your wonderful comments, I really appreciate it. However please leave them here on the comments page where I can save them. Para na sa save, nabubura kasi sa YM. Thanks y'all.

Happy Hearts Day

No, I didn't mean Valentine's Day. Sa February 14 pa yon shungak. I meant heart (disease) awareness day. Admittedly all the non-negotiables in my life, i.e. genetics, diet, exercise, and stress are waving huge red flags. My mother had bypass surgery at age 42, as nearly all her paternal relatives over 60 have. My paternal grandfather underwent bypass surgery some 2 or 3 years ago as well. My maternal grandfather passed away at 32 due to a massive heart attack. Diet, what diet??? I happen to love isaw and lechon kawali. I also have a sweet tooth, in fact I can gulp down 4 Krispy Kreme doughnuts in one sitting, and I'm not talking about the original glazed variety, I meant the New York cheesecake doughnut. As for exercise, the only time I get physical is when I wakeboard, and God knows how long that has been. Wait, does sex count? bwahahaha

So there are my odds. I'm no genetic lottery winner when it comes to healthy hearts. I consume massive amounts of pork, sugar and coffee, and I rarely exercise (if sex doesn't count that is, move over prudes). But no worries, I know I will have no need to start saving up for a future bypass operation. So how do I know, and how do I keep my heart healthy? Well, I believe in the law of attraction and I immerse myself in love love love. Also a little luho every now and then. So peeps, here's the top 5 list of my guilty pleasures.

Bags - my obssession de jour. I love bags especially designer ones. It started with LV, but now that I've outgrown logos, I remain loyal to Balenciaga and YSL (well, at least until I can afford Chanel and Hermes).









Sorry, no fakes here. Even when I was in my early 20's and I cannot (yet) afford designer, I never owned a fake. Never have, never will, and I mean nevah.

Pictures, pictures, pictures - visit my flickr site and everything will be self-explanatory.

Music - my teeny tiny nano's memory is FULL. Loaded with R&B, hip hop and rock & roll. If you chance upon a crazed woman driving a blue car, screaming her lungs out and dancing, that's probably just me. I would sometimes even borrow my husband's shuffle just for a taste of new wave and sappy love songs.

Books - as far back as I can remember, one of my biggest luhos. And I prefer hardbound, thank you.










Gerard Butler (King Leonidas in the movie 300) - just looking, staring, gazing, watching him..........harmless yun, mga bastos kayo, ang dudumi ng mga utak niyo, mwahaha

(photo credit: yahoo)
Haaaayyyy. I swear I hear my knickers drop and my heart go thump thump THUMP everytime I see him onscreen. Heck I don't even care if those abs were airbrushed. He's the second macho-est guy on my list (second only to Joel Pogi). Funny I never even liked muscular guys. My crushees in grade school and high school were the usual nerds and geeks. I never even liked basketball players or soccer players (at lalo namang ayaw nila sa akin mwahaha). When 300 was still in theaters, malls were bombarded with his posters. I would run towards his life size poster and touch his cardboard abs. Natural mente, my husband would be fuming mad and would refuse to talk to me for the rest of the day. It's a good thing he barely reads my posts kundi lagot ako at outside da kulambo na naman ako mamaya mwahahaha.

There goes my heart rate.

Well, what are your guilty pleasures???

True Icons

When I was in high school , there was only one magazine for teenage girls like me (then), Teen Magazine. Now you can go to any bookstore or 7-11 and be in total disarray over which magazine to get. Take your pick, there is a vast assortment of mags to choose from, whether it be about fashion, lifestyle, travel, gadgets, sports, cooking, name it and there isn't any topic they don't have. What I see an abundance of is celebrity magazines. Yes, OK, Hello, even fashion mags are dominated by these celebrities. By celebrities I mean Bradgelina, Tomkat, David & Posh Becks, Paris Hilton, Nicole Richie, Britney Spears. I've never been a fan of Brad, maybe only after seeing his behind in Troy, then it went kaput after he left Jennifer Aniston for Angelina Jolie. Angelina, well she is a sight to behold and she does do a lot for the UN. Tom Cruise, I don't like him, never have, never will. The Beckhams are a groovy looking bunch although I don't dig the metrosexual hooplah of David and though Posh is quite a fashionista, hers is a kind of a hit-or-miss thing, she sometimes looks like Audrey Hepburn reincarnated or a total alien. And Paris, seriously, she can't act, she can't dance, she can't sing, all she has to show for is that infamous sex video. Mabuti nga at nakulong siya! Nicole, she loses half her bodyweight, denies an eating disorder, drives on the wrong side of the freeway, has tried cocaine, meth, and probably every synthetic drug there is, remind me agin why she is famous. Save for the fact that she was adopted by Lionel Richie, I really don't know why. And Britney, dear Britney. I still have a vivid picture in my head of your bald ________ head. I see London, I see France, I've seen more than your underpants! I keep forgetting you once sold 50 million albums.

It is said that who we venerate says a lot about who we are. Is this what the world is coming to? No wonder they feature anorexic and bulimic 5 to 7 year old kids on Oprah, Tyra and Dr. Phil. If these are the icons of our generation, then we can probably expect even younger kids to go on shooting sprees in campus. And that scares the hell out me, even more so for my children.

Well here's a short list of my idols:

Oprah Winfrey - not only is she the Queen of Talk, but also a media mogul, publisher, producer, actress, host, philanthropist, whew, did I miss anything? She, to me is something like the Dalai Lama for women. Whatever Divine plan or Grand Design God has, the woman gets it, she totally gets it. Talk about enlightened.

William H. Gates III, more popularly known as Bill Gates - Not only is he America's richest but one of the most philanthropic. And he does so with his wife Melinda. Although a Harvard dropout, I love that he has his own foundation that focuses on education, and the lack thereof.

Queen Rania Al-Abdullah of Jordan - Hands down and arguably the most beautiful woman on the planet. Married to royalty, she can probably spend all her days shopping, but heck no. She spearheads a lot of charities and many women's rights groups. She reminds me a lot of the late Princess Di. If I were to be reincarnated, oooohhhh how I'd wish to be her......Or at least look like her.

Warren Buffet - One of America's richest men (second to Gates in Forbes' list last year of America's richest), also one of the most philanthropic. He once vowed to donate a huge part of his fortune posthumously, but has started giving away massive sums, some of which to Gates' foundation. And no matter how much he manages to give away, he keeps earning more. Talk about The Secret...........

Did I mention everyone on my list is self-made? That alone speaks for itself.
So, who's on your list??? I do hope you choose well.

(photo credit: Wikipedia)

Things That I'm Grateful For

I first heard of 'The Secret' from my husband about 4 months ago after he heard his crush-in-denial Karen Davila on the radio rave about it. Aba maganda siguro, masubukan nga at baka sakaling bumait na ako. The first time I read it, no impact, reminded me a lot of Dale Carnegie's 'How to win friends and influence people'. Then I see it featured on Oprah. Mabasa nga uli, baka sakaling umepek na. After bombarding myself with 'The Secret' i.e. reading the book thrice, watching the movie 4 times, and playing the audiobooks on my ipod almost everyday, I think I'm on my way to recovery, I mean enlightenment.

So here's a list of things that I'm grateful for:

My husband Joel, my soulmate and the love of my life. For the constant love, patience and understanding he showers me with.

My 2 boys, my little angels, who always have and always will be God's greatest gift to me and my husband. They are my constant reminder that life is indeed beautiful.

Our work, which gives us the opportunity to juggle our routines and spend a lot of time with our kids.

My family who always has and always will be there for me no matter what.

My in laws (mother-in-law, sisters-in-law) who have always been supportive and understanding in more ways than one.

My mother, for showing me through example the power of sheer willpower, determination, and strength.

My Tita Loi, for always being an epitome of poise, grace, and kindness.

Wakeboarding, for rocking my world and for the exhilarating highs, excitement and sheer bliss it has given me.

and the not-so-personal stuff:

President George W. Bush, for showing and reminding us all that war is really not the answer.

President Gloria Arroyo, for making me realize the at 5'1" I'm not that short after all.

Ex-President Joseph Estrada, for giving us third world folks a glimpse at a very luxurious life through his colossal mansions and by importing all those Escalades and Navigators.

Sen. Jinggoy Estrada, for saying on national television (after the verdict on his father's plunder case was given out) "ginawa nila yang batas para parusahan kami". It made me brush up on my history lessons, reminding me that the first set of laws were established in 1760 B.C. under the Code of Hammurabi. I thought for a moment I was dreaming and that until this century, laws were non-existent.

What about you, what do you have to be grateful for???