Lazy Weekend

Oh, yes it is! Was just lounging around the whole day. Except when I went out with Neil to purchase his 128MB memory stick, and dinner at Congo Grille, where we lazily watched people.

Yeah, people-watching. The long table beside us was filled with pretty girls and boys. They were in pairs. The girls thin and beautiful, the boys lean and cute. Neil and I were amused just watching them. The table behind me seated four women. Friends catching up on each others' lives - this I could tell from their endless, excited chatter. And the other long table on Neil's right. Yeah, that was interesting. I was transfixed on this girl who I thought would pair great with Neil. The girl had on a feminine floral yellow top, a nice reserved smile, perfect eyebrows. She had a small, humble-looking face. And she had a hanky in front of her. I told Neil, and he just laughed it off. He didn't think I was sincere. He didn't believe me.

Tomorrow (no, that's today) is kikay day. Been dying to get a manicure (and pedicure) for two weeks now. Yay! Finally.

Aaah. I wish it were a three-day weekend.

CONGRATULATIONS, RUTH!!!

Yeah!!! OT girl!!!! See, told you you'd make it. =) Am soo proud of you [I am - tears stung my eyes when I read about the news...so much like your momma, huh. Hehe]

Now get your butt over here so we can celebrate.

[Ruth is one of my best friends. She has just passed the OT board exams. Smart, sexy, pretty, and nice woman she is - for those who want to date her...Hehehehe (she'll kill me; am doing a shameless plug of her, hehehe)!]

Finis!

The two-week long stress over work, school...my whole life, actually - it's over!!! Yay!

[Yeah, and it'll start again next week. ;p]

Seriously. The past two weeks have unbelievably been stressful. Seems I've been losing my organizational skills. What with a pda, a phone with a calendar, an actual calendar sitting right in front of me on my office desk - and I couldn't seem to schedule my tasks properly! [And couldn't even get myself to blog, even just to rant...]

Today is the day I've been looking forward all week - supposed to have finished everything that needs to be done.

And I did!

And though I can feel the fatigue seeping in, I just have to blog to let out my relief. =)

Intense as hell

Yup. This week, and last week. I don't know how work, school, and my personal life can hit me all at the same time.

Tsk, tsk, tsk.

And though I'm about to break [down], I don't want to whine. I got myself into this anyway.

Okay. Give me at least space to *sigh*.

18.75%!

Ha! Am not hooked after all...heheheh. Thanks, March.

18.75 %

My weblog owns 18.75 % of me.
Does your weblog own you?

Check this out!!!

Are all *good* men really either taken, or gay?

I had a pleasant surprise this afternoon as I was preparing to leave the office. My best friend called me up from the US. After the usual kamustahans, goss exchange (which was long, mind you), and hearing out each other's sentiments, she finally told me the *big* news.

After almost a year of looking for (literally!) her longtime college crush in the US (she heard he was living in the same state), she finally found him. They called each other up, updated each other, went out to dinner. [She stops here, while I go "EEEEEeeeeeeeeeee!!!!" in kakiligan.]

So they were having dinner. Arnold (yeah, that's the guy), says: "I have something to tell you."

Hazel intently replies, "O." [That's the hard "O" as we say it here when we try to act nonchalantly]. [She stops again as I go "EEEEEEEeeeeeeee!!!!"]

And Arnold goes, "I'm gay." [And then I go, "FFFuuuuuuccccccckkkkkk!!!"]

The story of his life: he had one (Atenean) boyfriend back then. No one knew he was gay (except his boyfriend). It was only when he came to the US that he came out of the closet.

So I ask Hazel how she feels. Torn, of course. God. She has once been crazy in love with this guy - back when she was in a serious relationship!

She laughs about it now, though (however bitterly). We shared a [bitter] thought before she hung up: are all *good* men really either taken or gay?

Faith and Fear

It's been three months since Neil popped the question. Three months since I said 'yes'. Three months of getting IT from everyone.

IT. Relief. Excitement. Joy. Worry. Hope. Raised eyebrows (yeah, we got them). Kilig. Tears. Questions (lots of them).

Thanks for the heartwarming letter, Raine. Honestly, up until now, I still cannot believe that I will soon enter married life. I think about it every time (mostly before I go to bed, and right after I wake up). And now that I've noticed it, I already have a habit of twirling my ring around my finger (same manner as when you wind a watch) when in deep thought.

I have it. Faith, and at the same time, fear.

Sometimes (okay, I admit it - most of the time), I replay that scene in my head where Neil and I are at Moomba, and he's proposing. And then me saying 'yes'. What made me say 'yes'? How did I know that I meant it? The ultimate questions everyone's been asking - including myself.

But up until now I still cannot express, or explain, why. What I can tell you is that it was the right moment, and more importantly, it was right. As I've told Chiqui, there is really such a thing as a "right moment". And when it comes to you, you will be as baffled - perhaps more than I was.

When I play that scene over and over in my head, it comforts me. Faith is strong, and fear fades - although not completely.

I still have bouts of - no, not doubt - asking myself why...and sometimes I know the answer, sometimes I don't. Yes, there's love, and it's true and pure. Sometimes it just makes me wonder if we will be able to maintain that - forever at that.

Oh, I - no, we - will find the answer...perhaps not now...but some distant day.

Thank you for your best wishes. And your prayers. And faith.

=)

Here's Raine's letter, posted in her online journal:

Tuesday, July 16, 2002 - 03:26 p.m.

Good News

Well, the sun is shining once again...the first in two weeks or so. And well, I guess that's good news to everyone. The sun has always been a symbol for cheerful moods, new beginnings, and sunny dispositions! Well, let's see if the sun's rays will finally erase mushy moods and nostalgia in me and to some people i know out there.
Speaking of good news, I just have to write it here on my page the good news I've heard recently from a friend...an old dear college friend I truly miss. So please, allow me to address her here...

Dear Mica,

It's been such a pleasure to know about your upcoming wedding next year. Not mention the romantic gush it sent through me knowing that one of my treasured friends will finally settle down. Your story (your love story with Neil) has always been an inspiration for me that true love is really not that hard to find. And I'm so happy to know that you'll gonna end up with him because I know that he'll make you happy and he'll take care of you just like he'd always done. But above all, I'm happy that you're realizing one of your many dreams. Because I know, that just like me or any woman for that matter, it has always been your dream to find true love, grow old with someone you love and trust and have beautiful kids of your own.

I will be praying for the realization of that dream. And my wishes will always be with the two of you that forever, your love for one another will always be there, constant and unwavering.

You go girl!

love and kisses,

Raine

p.s.

i'll start saving for the gift na...and yes, di na rin ako bilib kay cezar. scoop 'to eh pero di niya naibalita!=)

It's Blogday!

Yeah...how many more blogs will I post today?

It's 2:30 am and I'm still awake - downloading MP3s. While waiting, blogging.

I planned to study, but knowing I had a better choice, it's blogging and downloading over Public Policy and Program Administration.

I should feel guilty - but I'm not. Mwahahahahaahahahahah!!!

"Excuse me, but may I just greet some friends?"

Eeeeeeekkk, how jologs can I get?

You, reading my blog. Sorry, have to do this. Just this once.

Yeah, the moment I start this I'm gonna feel like I'm on air, enumerating names, sending off greetings...but allow me, okay? God, just this once. =p

Okay, here goes...[deep breath....]

First on the list: Anna Marie. Thanks for the call this morning. Always nice to hear from you. Can't wait for Art's pic.

Edwin! Sorry for the bad reception. Will take care of her for you. =)

Raine. Forgot to tell you the news last April. Actually, I thought you knew already - shucks, di na ako bilib kay Cezar, di na sya magaling mamalita!!! Hihi, and you had to know through my blog pa. ;p Thanks for the wishes! =)

Marc - the siopao, the backaches, the early morning leg cramps - it is pms. Eeek, bloody weekend.

Cam dearest!!! Asan errand mo today? ;p Miss you.

Mahal. Thanks for the new toy. =D Look at my bungisngis. Thanks for leaving the bongos with me too.

Okay. There. It's over. Now it's a journal once again.

Shopping frenzy

Who, me?

Unfortunately!

It's the long weekend. Yesterday I was in the mall - went home with stuff. Today I was in the mall - brought home my new toy (thank you, Neil ko!). Tomorrow, clothes-shopping.

Mmmmmm. Feels good. =)

Ngarag

On top: My MA classes. I'm still in the office, at 11 friggin 10 in the evening, doing my first assignment for my MA (major) class. After this, I'm concentrating on my elective. 77 fucking pages.

My EYP deadline. Tomorrow. Still needs a lot of polishing.

My Neil. He's home sick. Visiting him tomorrow.

My (children's) story! Have to bond with the kids - fast.

My documents for the August trip.

My Team.

My wedding! God, I haven't been doing my assignments (hmmm, well Neil hasn't, so it's only fair, hehe).

AAAAAAAAAArrrrrrrrrrggggggggggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!

Okay. Just had to do that.

[Back to work...]

What's so funny?

These lines are! Really made my day. Just had to put it here, so I can go back and read it any time I need a good laugh....

"The more the manyer."

"C'mon let's join us!"

"Are you joking my leg?"

"It's not my problem anymore, it's your problem anymore."

"What are friends are for?"

"You can never can tell."

"Let's give them a big hand of applause."

"Been there, been that."

"Forget it about it."

"Give him the benefit of the daw."

"It's a blessing in the sky."

"Where'd you came from?"

"Take things first at a time."

"You're barking at the wrong dog."

"You want to have your cake and bake it too."

"First and for all."

"I'm only human nature."

"The sky's the langit."

"That's what I'm talking about it."

"One of these days is not like the other."

"So far, so good, so far."

"In the wink of an eye."

"The feeling is actual."

"For all intense and purposes."

"I ran into some errands."

"What is the world is coming to?"

"What is the next that is?"

"Get the most of both worlds."

"Whatever you say so."

"My answers have been prayered."

"Please me alone!"

'It's as brand as new."

"I can't take it anymore of this!"

"Are you sure ka na ba?"

"Well well well. Look do we have here!"

=)

Hand me a pencil, will ya?

Very few people know that when I get extremely angry, I break pencils. Mongol pencils. Number 2.

It started when I was 13. I couldn't take this bitch of a girl (who I hung out with because our mothers were friends) anymore. She thought she was queen of the world (the underworld is more like it). I was forced to hang out with her every single day. Even on weekends, when her mom would leave her in our house. She was the meanest of all mean people. One day, I couldn't take it anymore. While she was yakking on, badmouthing everyone, I unconsciously took a pencil from my study table and broke it in half. She hardly noticed it, because she was busy insulting people. I continued to break the pencil, until I had six small pieces on my hand.

And I discovered it felt good.

At 16, I had a pencil holder full of little pieces of Mongol pencils No. 2. Before I left home for college, I threw them all away.

At 18 I had 3 broken pencils. No more, no less.

At 20, I couldn't find a pencil, so I broke my eyeglasses instead.

After that, I had one broken pencil and one broken ball point pen.

I stopped at that. Until recently. This time, it was the Andrew Lloyd Weber album.

I wish I'd stop already!

Hand me a pencil, quick.

Until When 'til Until Then?

I've always been a very patient person.

When Mother told me to wait, I did. I am still.

Father gave his word, too. And I did. Wait.

Best friend told me to wait awhile. Awhile was soon; because I got what I waited for. The first fruit of my patience.

Memorized the clock's tic-toc, waiting for him. I didn't mind. I have learned to love time.

Time was nothing when they needed me. I would listen. I would go to the ends of the earth to see them, comfort them with my patient ears. I am privy to their emotions.

Some that weren't True, I'd patiently bear. I have memorized the singsong requests and whines. It sometimes haunts me, but I don't mind.

Purehearted work. Amidst the [teeny weeny] nagging doubt that it's all futile [not to mention that I may soon starve], I go on.

Until when?

Letter to a (yet unborn) child

Dearest Child,

Allow me to be the first one (I hope!) to welcome you into this world. Too soon, perhaps, but (strangely) I already feel the urge to connect to you, to touch you, to let you know things. Things about you.

That day that your mother told me she already had a picture of a ten-week You - my heart skipped...and I imagined how much more your mother felt. I called her up, excited to hear more news about you. She said yes, yes, the child's heart is beating...can't believe it...it's real...it's a little person. And I squealed in delight - I think I freaked her out with that reaction.

Everything was so unexpected - even you.

Oh, that's nothing to worry about. In my 23 years of living, I have learned that unexpected things are better than you think.

I was unexpected. Everyone was caught by surprise (here's the scene I create in my mind when I think about how people reacted when everyone knew I existed: a sea of faces with different reactions: some gasping, mouths open, mouths open with one hand over, raised eyebrows). But then, think about this: my mother didn't know true love - until I came by. And the rest of the story...well, I can tell you about it when you're here.

I celebrate you.

I'm pretty sure you'll be a great person. Your mother is.

My earliest memories of your mom is back in fourth grade. She was new in class. I tried to borrow a ruler from her - not because I needed it, but because I wanted to take a good look at this new girl who was the daughter of a prominent doctor. And when I approached her, she gave a ready smile, and suddenly I wasn't as shy anymore - aside from borrowing the ruler, I lingered on and asked her what school she came from and if she really was the daughter of Dr. --- . She says her earliest memories of me was back in fourth grade, too - when I used to slide down the stair handrails in my carefree manner.

That's pretty much how our friendship started. And nothing much has changed in and between us. The friendly girl I approached - and the carefree girl she observed - that's her and me. Sometimes our characteristics would intersect (hmm, that's a very nasty term considering we really don't like Math)...and of course we'd have our differences, but our circles always stayed close to each other.

As cliche as it is, your mother is the epitome of a nice person. The adjective just fits her so properly. It seems like it was made for her alone. If I could claim the adjective hers, I would.

What makes me say that? Looking back, I realized that no one could ever complain about her. Those that did were those that envied her. Her only Waterloo was - if it be allowed to be called that - falling in love.

Her first left her badly bruised. He forced her to be what she wasn't and to do what she was not supposed to do. Her second loved her deeply, but distance proved love cannot be. Her third she ached over for a year before he finally realized he was missing the best girl any man can ever have. He is your father.

Child, I celebrate you.

When your mother finally sees you, she will fall in love like crazy - so intense that she transforms her only Waterloo into a victory.

I'm not sure if you understand what I mean. Someday, you will.

For her, and for you, thank you.

And, welcome. I shall be there when you open your eyes.

Darn Kids

Kids. I love 'em!

Four kids, especially: Miguel, Martin, Gabby, and the latest addition - Papung. My favorite kids in the whole world.

Miguel is the eldest. He's turning eight this September. He's an achiever - always number 1 in class, and strives to be, every year (his personal goal when asked by his teachers: to be number 1 again this year. Ain't it wonderful? Oh, I can go on and on about this...). He's a wee bit silent, though - the not-talking-unless-talked-to type. He goes on about his own business (yeah, he's been reading the Harry Potter series alone, i.e., he doesn't need being read to). Up until now I still can't believe how responsible this Kuya is - always watching out for his sister and brother (and cousin, and pets, and sometimes, us elders). I don't know why, but whenever I'm around, he always makes it a point to give me a tip or two about the latest PS game he currently plays. Everything is just a learning experience for this boy.

Martin is a happy child. Every day with him is like being high on something. He's hyperactive - he greets you with a shout, attempts to hug you but then gives you a head-on (he still thinks he's a dinosaur), laughs a belly laugh (always). He hates girls, but he loves me (yeah, he told me so). He makes up stories, but in the end, admits that he just made them up. And we laugh and laugh, because he's just so funny. And, a plus to this funny man (yeah I call him that and he loves it so much it sends shivers down his spine) - he doesn't have front teeth. It's like the perfect thing! He's six.

Gabby is a combination of Miguel and Martin - except that she's a sweet little girl. She's intelligent, yet she can be a smart aleck at times. Gabby is four. She smiles like she's being photographed - she loves the idea. I suspect she dreams about it every time she smiles at someone. Gab has an unbelievable sense of style. She knows how to dress herself up - with the right colors, and accessories! She hates dolls - loves rough play instead. She's a marathon talker too, and she'll talk about anything and everything under the sun - until she lulls herself to sleep.

Papung - looks very much like Miguel. He loves cars, and already drives one (a really small one, of course - for his size). When he was younger he loved me, but he's at that stage where he picks whom he wants to be friends with. Nevertheless, I kiss and hug and talk to him endlessly (can't help it), until he cries in desperation for his dear yaya. He just turned one.

Aaaaahhh. That was great, thinking and writing about these kids. Therapeutic.

Which reminds me, I need to interact with them asap. The crunch on my forehead is getting ugly from all the grownup stress.

Darn kids! I love 'em.

On failure

"Don't fear failure so much that you refuse to try new things. The saddest summary of life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have."

I don't know why, but of all the inspirational shit about failure, this struck me the most (whoever wrote this passage, congratulations and thanks!).

Ah, I remember now. It was that Saturday night (early Sunday morning actually) that I was packing my stuff for the 9th floor move. I was putting all my books, files, letters (lots of it - letters I received since the start of college), stationery, my old journals - in one small suitcase. As soon as I saw my college journal, I dropped everything - and started skimming through the brown pages.

And yes, I saw a few could have's...might have's...should have's.

And I swore...yes I swore - hurling expletives to my poor journal.

But then, I can't help to have could have's, must have's and should have's. After all, these are how I learned to do things.

=)

Moving

This is the fifth time I'm moving since I left home for college.

The first time, I had to - I was going away, 256 kms from home - for college. My mom put (yes, "put" is the appropriate word - don't ask) me in a boardinghouse run by this retired guidance counselor who charged an incredibly huge amount for what she claimed was the best boardinghouse on the block. We had a cook who prepared the strangest meals (chicken in creme de la salle was the *best*- which was chicken in green snot), a laundrywoman who kept on borrowing money from everyone (and would later run away with all the money), the landlady's son and his snotty live-in gf, the landlady's bitch of a daughter. We had a 9pm curfew - which I managed to get away from ("sleepovers", hanging out in Wendy's or BM). However which way Mom tried to make me comfortable in that hell of a boardinghouse, it was a far, far, far cry from home.

Ah, and how can I forget my roomie? She was a nice, silent girl - two years my senior, who hated my best friend for I don't know what reason. She just wouldn't speak to her.

I moved to Yakal Residence Hall during my second year in college. The thing I was most excited about was - the curfew. I could not believe that I could stay out until 2am!!! Woohooo! ;p It was there that I learned to eat instant noodles morning, noon, and night...sleep at 3 am and wake up at 6 to line up for a bath...cram...lounge around...take quick naps between classes...ah, the perfect college life!

My roomie was a sociable person who didn't mind "borrowing" stuff from me. She hung out with this girl who didn't mind AND didn't care if she was eating my food or drinking my water or getting my clothes or using my PC without permission - you know, the extra roomie from hell.

After grad, I moved to a place of my own (finally!). Renting, of course. It was a blast!!! Sleepovers (where five persons can fit in my small room), parties (where the landlady gets up from her bed at 3am to tell us to just please shut up - with a threat to evict one of us), experimental dinners (good thing I ate my own disasters - well, Neil sometimes did too), Sundays at the laundromat (reading a good book while waiting for my laundry)...ah, the life! But my six months of bliss ended - somehow abruptly - with another move.

My cousin asked me to share a condo unit with her. Fine with me, it was going to be convenient anyway. So we lived in this 46 sq m unit with no windows - well there were two windows, but they were blocked. So it was always dark...and damp...and we had no idea if it was morning or night. Two years of living in the dark.

Which is why we're moving to another unit tomorrow. One with windows (at last!), and a separate kitchen (yey our clothes don't have to smell of Spam).

Next year I'm moving again. Our contract with the new place expires June next year...the same time my life with Neil starts.

The same time I will be home, at last...I hope. =)

Beauty Above All

It's one of those days again, when you feel that the world is just not right...like something's askew, or something seems to be missing - a piece of puzzle perhaps? I can't figure it out.

I woke up this morning with that feeling. I stayed in bed longer than usual, thinking about things. Finally I got up, and decided I wouldn't let anything ruin my day. I remembered the mantra of one of my university professors. At the end of each class, she would stand up, fix the extraordinarily large but beautiful pewter that hung around her neck, adjust the bracelets that jingled on her thin arms, flip her hair, and say: "Beauty Above All" - pausing after every word for more drama.

So I got out of bed, took a deep breath, and repeated to myself three times: "Beauty Above All".

I then sat down for breakfast. I particularly chose to sit in the big black leather chair that I use when in front of the PC table. Not on the chairs that accompanied the breakfast table, but on the big, comfortable chair. I don't know, it's just that every time I sit on that chair I transform into my pensive mode.

I didn't realize I'd been sitting there for almost an hour, until my cell beeped. A friend I was supposed to wake up was already awake. Hmm, I thought. Something out of the ordinary! The world is indeed askew. Hehehe.

I regretted standing from the breakfast table. It was a rare, "myself" moment.

As I drag myself through the day, I just have one thing in mind: beauty above all. If I can't figure out the world, I will recite this wonderful mantra...and get a face lift from the secret stupid smile that will be pasted on my fez.

Wasted

Aaarrrrggggghhhhh. Can't wait for Friday. Not that am doing something that's worth looking forward to on Friday (or the weekend). The week just didn't start right for me. I wish I can just stare off space and not think about anything...with a glazed look and a cigarette stub between my fingers, lying on the floor wishing I were dead.

But wait - that's not me.

Sometimes I think about it - what's it like to be in his shoes. Has it really been thirty wasted years?

I see him only at most twice or thrice a year. The longest times I have spent with him are during Christmas parties...where I see him dart in and out of his room, hardly nodding, hardly making eye contact with anyone...stopping once in a while to frighten the kids.

My cousin the druggie.

Perhaps he's tired of seeing everyone shake their heads in disappointment at the sight of him. Perhaps he had some hope left, but had given it up simply because he was not given the chance. And he turned to something he found more satisfying...fulfilling perhaps.

I wonder what happens next, now that he's been found.

His eyes terrify me. There's so much sadness in them, even beneath the glazed look.

I yearn to reach out to him, understand him.