Liv in a Life Well-Lived

By jove, I might as well have been hit by thunder and it would have the same effect. I totally did not expect I would enjoy the Sagada trip. That's just so like me to refuse acknowledging that something could actually be nice instead of bothersome. I tend to discourage myself from expecting too much. Huh. That's like my style for everything. Including falling in love. This I promise is true. Sagada is a higher experience. You could not go there and not be changed somehow. The travel to the place alone is physically battering, and you would need a stout heart to hold on to the hope of making it through alive (especially when we had to brave the rough, winding road while it was raining). Once you get there though you know the way up was well worth the effort. I never knew the mountains could be so gentle. I have never felt more at peace with the world than when I was up there amidst the pines and the persimmons. The people were gentle folks who welcomed strangers warmly. The pobl

I like to play this game where I conjure up images of how that person looks like and what his character is based on his name. Take for example: Michael – is a tall guy with pale, cheeky or chubby face. Their eyes usually look kind. Stephen – has a mousy kind of face. If he does not possess a cherubic kind of aura, then he probably looks predatory. Amos – lean, angular with a hungry look in his eyes. Carol – bubbly kind of girl and she’s got peaches and cream complexion. Amber – a bitch. Ian – tall and broad-shouldered bloke, but usually slow in either talking or walking. Edwin - an old person, a grandfather (sorry to the Edwins I know) Edward – kind of kingly Charles – kind of loopy. Norman – a tall, Slavic looking guy who can only form two English words per minute (sorry, Norms) Sherry – a sweet-smiling girl akin to the liquor she’s named after. I tend to imagine her looking nice in red. Cecilia – a girl who likes to sing and ends up becoming a school teacher when she grows up. Noell

Book in Hand: Tales Before Tolkien Laptop--- check. Book --- check. Drawing Pad and pencils--- check. Sanity---- uhm... okay, pwede pa. Looks like I'm all set to start a hell of a week which will end when September hits. On my way to Sagada --- (people say Yey! Wow! I say, Boo! Hisssss!) --- for official business. That'll eat up my Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Come Monday, I have a presentation to a member company I am still totally unprepared for since the meeting was set at the eve of my departure for Sagada. On Tuesday, I would be visitng school after school looking for a Computer Lab Project beneficiary. On Wednesday, I fly to Bicol and I won't smell Manila until Saturday. Hope I won't drop dead, knowing I just had a 39 degree fever last Monday. And dear Lord, I do need money because: THE MANILA INTERNATIONAL BOOK FAIR STARTS AUGUST 30 AND ENDS SEPTEMBER 2!!!!

Whenever I se a blank piece of paper, images of what I want to fill it with rise unbidden. I have so many fantastic things I want to capture on page. The possibilities keep me awake at night and I even rehearse it over and over inside my head. This how I want to do draw it. This is how I want to write it. All fantastic things. Brilliant and achingly beautiful. That is, inside my head. When I try to translate into the physical world what was so marvelous in the metaphysical, I find my hands inept, my patience at an edge, myself so completely lacking. I am Orphelia afloat in a sea of creativity but I cannot even move. Do you see why I am frustrated? Nice try, try again, thank you for trying. Parang tanzan ng Coca-Cola laging pumapalya.

Once upon a time, there was a little girl who couldn’t speak her thoughts. She grew up believing that all nice little girls should always listen to their parents because they are wise and powerful. She was taught that nice little girls always try to be good to every one. She likes it when people are pleased with her for being cheerful and helpful. They heap praises on her, calling her every name that is bright and beautiful. She saw how these praises make her parents’ eyes glow with love and pride. Oh how wonderful it felt to be loved by them! She knew then that she could never ever make anyone angry with her. She must not hurt anyone, or make other people think she is a disagreeable child. She. Must. Be. Perfect. Everybody looks at her and sees someone beautiful inside. She never told them that inside is exactly the place where it hurts. The feeling is worse than being stuck inside a box without much air to breathe. It is much worse than wearing a mask that does not fit; a mask that p

She told me, "It feels nice..." She was looking at me with eyes begging for understanding. Her hands were fluttering to her tummy, her bag, her hair. "It felt nice that a guy would ask you to marry him even if there is no pressing reason. I mean, I'm not pregnant. We're both not desperately old." At this point, she was nodding her head. It's as if she's finally convinced again that she was right to accept the marriage proposal. "It's probably the best that I could hope for." she concluded. "Do you love him?" I asked. She smiled thinly. "Love him? Yes. But not all the time. There is no perfect relationship, Liv. There's just this." "Are you sure?" Again, the confusion rose to her eyes. But she answered, "Yes." ======================================= Oh, dearest. Please, I ask you to be sure.

Last night, I was dreaming awake about what I would do with, let's say, 5 Million Dollars. Books and beads aside, Here's what I came up with: An Island Resort. I will buy an island off the coast of Palawan or Puerto Galera and turn it into a resort. It would have to be large enough to be partitioned into 5 area themes: 1. Enchantment - where there is a cottage shaped like a hobbit house with round door under tree roots to boot, a mini Rivendell and a Narnia-esque house where the front door looks like an enormous closet 2. Writers' Haven - these are the simple cottages facing the sea. One would be facing the East for those who love to see the sun rise. Two would be facing the west, to see the sun set. One of those cottages would be exclusively for me. Each room is fitted with a desk top, a writers desk, internet access... the works for a writer. 3. Superstar Area - Hmmm., I'm not sure how this would look like yet. 4. The Main Hotel - everything super-class 5. The Beachfr

The OC's Mischa Barton was recently in Sydney, Australia to promote the country's local designer clothes. Would've been totally cool, 'xept that she couldn't even remember the label of what she's wearing. To top it all off, once interviewed, she said she was totally psyched to be there because she wanted to check out the city and its river. Can somebody tell her that Sydney is a coastal city? You know like, near the freaking ..... ocean?

NEW YORK (Reuters) - Actress Lindsay Lohan wants to entertain U.S. troops in I raq and follow in the footsteps of her idol, Marilyn Monroe, who visited soldiers in Korea during the 1950s. But first, Lohan plans to learn how to shoot a gun. "I've been trying to go to Iraq with (U.S. Senator) Hillary Clinton for so long. Hillary was trying to work it out, but it seemed too dangerous," Lohan, 20, told Elle magazine in an interview that hits newsstands on Wednesday. "I wanted to do what Marilyn Monroe did, when she went and just set up a stage and did a concert for the troops by herself," Lohan said. "It's so amazing seeing one woman just going somewhere, this beautiful sex kitten, who's basically a pinup, which is what I've always aspired to be." "I'm not afraid of going," she said. "My security guard is going to take me to a gun range when I get back to L.A., and I'm going to start taking shooting lessons. He says if

Not all of us appreciate fantasy stories. But all of us understand grief, loss, pain and ultimately, joy. We all understand death. For all that you hold sacred, read this amazing short story. Really. http://www.strangehorizons.com/2002/20020204/little_gods.shtml God, I wish I wrote this.

My colleagues and I were talking about street people using rugby earlier this week, and I found myself paying more attention to them. It's not that I expect them to go berserk or try to kill people right in front of my eyes, but there's just something about tragedy that makes you want to watch it unfold until you just can't tear your eyes away. I've seen a lot of the Rugby People, most of them are young. I've seen the delirious happiness in their eyes as if they were watching the clouds part for them as they fly in the sky. Coincidentally, what I saw today took my breath away and replaced it with a hard dark lump I cannot dislodge from my throat. I was with my sister helping her do research when we came upon a family seated in a less populated area of a certain university. There were four of them: the father, mother and two kids. The mother was cradling the baby in the crook of her left arm. In her right hand, she was holding a clear plastic bag and she kept sniffin

A recent news item on The Guardian has people coming out of the woodwork and stating which books being read by people in public will make them look at that person twice... and maybe chat him or her up. As it turns out though, this can't be just any book. Specific turn-offs were listed as part of the comments. It seems that Dan Brown is a huge no-no. Add to his pile erotic books and romance novels. Whilst some went as far as saying that anything in the current top ten bestseller's list is too tacky. Meanwhile, the item stated that the best spot to be caught with your nose in a book is inside the commuter train. Huh. Just imagine that here in the Philippines. I'm not saying Dan Brown is good or that I like his stuff, but here The Da Vinci Code is already considered intelligent reading. The fact that they're reading a non-textbook material is enough to label them as literary. Plus the fact that we're largely a Roman Catholic country where the Bishops have discouraged p