Monday, December 31, 2007

Holiday in Tagaytay

Ian offered to drive up to Tagaytay last Friday and we asked a couple of our friends to go along with us. Eman and Sem (getting maried next December) were the willing companions... and it was kind of fun because we took them to Churches and pig-out places which otherwise would've been boring to us already. :p

Cute choir boys at the Caleruega lobby.

Inside the Chapel of Transfiguration.

Where Eman is, wacky pics are sure to follow...

Told ya.

Sem and I at the Caleruega gardens. Sorry guys, she's taken.

Taal Vista Hotel view site. Feels like the old times!

Sem, sigurado ka na? May one year pa to change your mind! (Peace, Nong!)

Taal Vista lobby. La lang.

Pink Sisters grotto (which I later learned via my delayed supersensory recognition system IS being haunted by a Caucasian priest)

Ian and I: Tourist guides plenipotentiary extraordinaire
Missed you Terts!

And this I wish everyone for the coming year!

Photoblog: Christmas in Baguio

Point: Change of Ambiance
Manner: Road Trip to Baguio
Damage: Mucho Dinero
Gain: No Tears

Before Christmas Mass at The CJH Manor

At the Bell tower, getting chummy with a Proverbial Dragon. You should hear him roar.

Little Man Walking

What I loved the Most about Baguio was...

this.... and me getting to do this all I want...

Token pictures of famous sites

Twin Peaks

Merry Christmas!

Friday, December 21, 2007

In Defense of Daydreams

I don't have a lot of vices. I don't drink alcohol, smoke, gamble or play Ragnarok. But I do have one bad habit I can't shake: Daydreaming.

Aw shucks, you'd say. Daydream ent a vice. We all daydream.

But sir, my daydreams are such that they are violence in itself. It is a harpoon impinged on reality, sucking the air out and leaving the real world listless. It has the power to physically disable me from functioning. It swallows me whole and brings me to places that you may not want to exist.

I have always claimed that I am living a Half-Life (channeling Duncan Sheik), and the truth is, I live half of my life in the physical world and the other half in the world my mind made for myself.

In the midst of everyday living, I had been queen, psychopath and prophetess. I saved the world thrice, saved lives seven by seven hundred times, and sat with Oprah to talk about my mission in Africa. I have written four books, appeared in 6 movies, documented ghosts and superstitious beliefs of the five continents along with Neil Gaiman and M Night Shyamalan. I have killed vultures with cellphones, was kidnapped by a tribe and tortured beyond my wits. I took a bullet for Prince William, lost all my memory and regained it through slow and heartbreaking therapy.

I found out I had psychic powers and could move objects with a semi-think. I learned of my nephilimic ancestry, and took it upon myself to take up the sword on the side of the Light. I fought demons, vampires and creatures of the night. I won over them once just by clapping my hands. I sat on combs that helped me fly, I opened windows that looked out to a sea of dead cats and dogs.

If I tell you right now EVERYTHING I have daydreamed of, it would be the longest entry in the blogging universe. It might also be too scary for the normal Joe and Jane. So I can't.

It sounds bad, I know. But to the imagination that wouldn't rest, the heart that is not satisfied with the lack of magic with the here and now, it's a gift.

It took me a long time to appreciate the romance in the ordinary. But even then, the daydreams cannot stop. Especially not now. When the only way I could be with you is to daydream about it.

When you finally realized that I can exist just for you. Where you finally got over your complacency or terror of the strange and the odd and the truly beautiful. Because what is truly beautiful has always been a terrifying thing.

Until this has become reality --

I daydream.

New Phone!

Bought a new phone yesterday. My old cp was giving out, and maybe I kind of needed to let it go as well. So, I bought this:

It's a Sony Ericsson Z610i. Love it. :p

Thursday, December 20, 2007

Rant and Rave


Where the freak did Filipinos get the idea that spitting in the streets was ever ok? I swear, if spit were pearls, we'd be making jewelry for the Queen of England.


Buti na lang, something salvaged my pride in my country. I love that once the Angelus or the 3 o'clock prayer sounds, everybody goes to a stand still, even if you're inside the mall.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

Just Because It Makes Me Smile

This is my latest picture, taken yesterday during our unit's annual office clean-up. One good thing about my hospitalization was that I thinned out a teeny weeny bit, enough to make people notice and remark :You've slimmed down a lot!" :p Ah. There's still some small good things. :p
In the pic:
Seated left is Bing who is a babe who can crunch numbers and married (sorry guys) to the wackiest bald young lawyer I know.
Seated right is Geo who is just a couple inches higher than a fire hydrant but quite feisty and smart alecky. You'd love to have her in your corner when there's an argument ensuing. Believe me, you'd always win.
Standing left is Ian who's my best friend at work. And he's miserable company but I love him because he's the kindest creature in God's universe. :p
Posted this to remind me I haven't lost everything.

Sunday, December 16, 2007

The Shimmering

The Grinch Reaper stole Christmas last year from me. Reason to make me believe that it was forever gone from me and I'll never have it back --- my absolute love of the holidays. By this time last year, I was so busy with my lists. I was in hyper mode, personalizing each gift I give. I even made a fuss about the gift wrapping. It must all be special. I was planning Christmas Noche Buena in my head. I was planning what I will do during my work's forced leave period. I loved Christmas.

But now --- ah. I didn't even make a list this year. All I know is that I have this bunch of friends and I'd probably buy them something. So I ended up buying chocolates. My imagination didn't even spark. I finally knew what it meant to be just going through the motions. That is until I finally had to force myself to go inside a toy store for the kids I need to give gifts to.

Give it to Children to make Christmas fun. Shopping for kids brought back that shimmering feeling -- faint but there. I wanted to stop in the middle of Toy Kingdom and bawl my head out. I didn't want to lose the shimmering. I desperately need it back. I wanted to shout "Stay! Don't leave me!" but it faded nonetheless.

I want to prove to myself that its possible to be happy for all the future holidays --- without my parents. I want to prove it coz I don't believe it.

Please, could somebody give me back Christmas?

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Absolutely Not!

Oh no, I'm not!

I'm not gonna die leaving nothing but a lame last entry. How inane was that? It's been groovin'? I think I'm better off watching That 70's Show reruns.

No. If I die, it will be --- fire. Hmmp!



You have no claim upon me --not my soul, nor heart or mind
You may take me prisoner and chain me to the earth
Tear me limb to limb and bring me miles underneath the soil
But you will not have me --- Not Me who breathed free til her last.

I will not go willingly
My fight will be fire and brimstone and the fury of Haephastus
Burning like the Seven Cauldrons of his heated rage
Dare and touch me, Dark Knight, and turn pale listening to the sizzle of your skin.

Watch me --
Burning Brightly --
And I will burn away before your finger lays upon me.
You will not have me go gently.

You will not have me at all.


Needs a bit of work. Good thing I'm not dying yet, eh? Not tonight.

Sunday, December 09, 2007

Signs of Life


I'm sorry for the super-long hiatus on posts. I just emerged from a 2-week confinement in the hospital where all the doctors were baffled by my illness. So, after 90K in medical bills, I decided to check out. Whatever. I'll just wing it, nurse myself back to health, with the help of my family.

Or if I die, eh di, I'll die.

Merry Christmas by the way. :P

I haven't got much to blog about. My brain was deep-fried in fever the last few weeks. So I'm not expecting a coherent post. My primary goal was just to show some signs of life. To those who wondered. If ever there was any. Just in case.

I don't know when I'll be able to post again. It can't be everyday people will take pains to prop me up on a chair, open the laptop, and help me stay upright. Yeah, it's that bad. So. I think it's freaking lupus or something. Or leukemia where I'll become pale as a ghost and fade away from people's eyes. Or it could be major mental complex that is hi-jacking my immuno-system, rendering my antibodies to moot. So.

Til we meet again. Whether here or in the next life. It's been groovin'.

Monday, November 26, 2007

"Are you okay?"

Three words that scared the hell out of me. It was the way you said it... as if you were genuinely scared I wasn't okay. I didn't know you cared. For a split second, I didn't know what to say. So I ended up answering you in jest. Sorry. It was scary.

You cared.

Like some crazy cartoon character, I am fumbling for some hold at the mouth of a deep chiasm that I am slowly sliding into.

Don't let me find a hold.

Insanity Report

OMG. I. Am. Bored. To. Death.

And the stupid rashes haven't even cleared up yet. How many more days like this?

No, don't tell me.

I'll lose it.

I will.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Preacher in Blue Jeans

When you think of the word preacher, an image of a grizzly old man donning a rucksack comes to mind. It rarely presents an energetic middle-aged man with a face smooth as a baby's bottom and wearing blue jeans. Goodness, I mean, that's so... normal.

That's why I think Bo Sanchez is so effective in what he does : communicating God's word in an accessible, normal way. He doesn't scare you into submitting to the Faith. He explains it all to you and gives you the choice to claim your core gift and your blessings from the Lord. And he says it in that straight forward witty way that kind of amazes you in its simplicity.

Sometimes, I think I want to be like him. I remember my Daddy when I watch Kerygma on TV. He's got the same vigor and that same light in his eyes when he speaks of what good God has done in our lives.

I wonder now why I have always disliked joining religious groups. I mean, shouldn't I be automatically drawn to them growing up with both parents actively involved in such an organization? They enjoyed it, they took strength from it. I saw the good it has done for them and the others who were with them. Why don't I feel an inkling towards feeling that same joy they felt?

I have reason to think it might be the exhaustive presence of Others that keeps me away. Agape and all that is cool --- but I tend to get exhausted if made to connect with too many people. Everyone in the Catholic Group are just so --- touchy-feely. And they like it. They love it. they bask in others' comforting hugs and their cheek-to-cheek kisses. They affirm their sisterhood and brotherhood through it. It's all so good. I don't understand why I can't just stomach it and endure it. I have always preferred worshipping in solitude. It feels more intimate and closer to Him. I have never felt his Power as strongly as when I pray alone. When I join in prayer with others, the energies gets so diffused and I get confused... No, it's not the same.

So, I guess there goes my career as inspirational preacher. And it feels so sayang because a solid part inside me knows I can also effectively communicate God's word. I can work an audience, make them feel sorrow and pain and joy and deliverance by speaking simple, powerful words. It's my core gift -- choosing the powerful words and communicating it well... If I choose to. I just can't deal with the other things you have to deal with to get there.

But it can't stop me from admiring those who can though. That is why, Bo Sanchez, to me, is a fantastic person. What he does takes so much energy -- sharing takes so much from one person and yet he can give it continually. I believe he chooses everyday to do it. Which is more than what I can say I do.

Friday, November 23, 2007


Want to hear something absolutely funny?

I somehow, at age 25, contracted german measles from thin air and am quarantined at home for the next 7 days.

Have you ever heard such an amusing thing? Me, stay inside a house for 7 days straight? What? I'll go terrifically insane, I assure you.

I'll be cackling in crazy juice by this time Monday. You. Pray for my soul.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Vanity Googling

Just for kicks, i tried to google myself and came up with "katukayos" from as far as Chile and La España. Until finally, I cam across this byline for an article which I wrote eons ago. Huh. I wrote it, and my boss massacred it.

Anyhoo, want to learn more about the Bauan Reef System (yawn... yeah, sure). Then read on. :)

link to:

Today's To-Do List

Today's an Olivia-Get-To-It Day:

1. Wake up at 5 a.m. (I woke up at 9 a.m.)
2. Get to the office early (I'm still at home, obviously blogging)
3. Write that article on that Entrepreneurial Development cooperative (I'd rather be blogging)
4. Buy anti-histamines (if they sell Fix-your-Brains, I might've bought medicines earlier)
5. Make a to-do list for your 5 trainings jammed within 3 weeks (I'm dying here)
6. See to the Social Security documents (I'd rather go to the dentist)
7. Go to the Gym (Right after I finish this Honey Cake)
8. Really Olivia, you have to move now (Maybe that apple juice is really a lethargic agent and I just need to lie down for just 3 minutes...)
9. The World is Waiting for YOU (it's fucking NOT. It goes on fine without me.)
10. FIX YOUR LIFE! (up yours.)

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

That Blog Thing

The thing with keeping a blog is the pressure to write something amusing or touching or relevant for your entries. Sure, there'd be people there who'd say, nope that's just you, coz we keep absolute trash in our blogs.

Well, that's my point exactly. It's just me, I don't want to write trash, but somehow, most of my entries are just like that. Like today.

I wanted to write something funny about a recent incident I had wherein my pants were literally falling down as I crossed the street (jinxed eye and hook be damned). But... I lost the fire of writing it because today, I don't think anybody would care.

And there's also the fact that blogs demand such absolute honesty from me, and sometimes its hard to believe I really need to.

And sometimes, I just don't make sense thus effectively, I should be banned from the net so I don't impose my insensibilities on your sensibilities. Like today.

Sunday, November 18, 2007


Danielle Steele novels are, like, so high school-ish.

I think the last Steele story I read was Fine Things which wasn't as good as The Ring. But I'll give you this: at least the storylines and plots doesn't lump into one gargantuan mess inside my head. Unlike stories by Johanna Lindsey & Judith McNaught where they seem perfectly happy to follow the same formula over and over and over again.

The only I reason I bought this book was because the premise just happened to be one of my long-running fantasies about meeting Prince William. In HRH, a princess goes to Africa to help out in an international aid organization and works with an enigmatic plain-blooded doctor. Violence happens in the camps and the princess learns about love and life as she goes through everything. Reverse the situation and that's pretty much what my life fantasy is all about.

I don't know if it's any good yet. I just bought the book on a whim in Fully Booked Cubao (not proud of the price --- P485... yuck, expensive for a flim-flam novel) and am yet to break th cellophane wrapping.

Oh well. Wish me luck. :P

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Bury Your Daughter

A parent ought not to bury a daughter.

Jing's sister died last night due to undetected brain tumor which led to a comatose and finally, the end of her life. She was only 21 years old.

Please offer a silent prayer for Wallaine Ortañez.

God bless her soul.

Intergenerational and Chronic Poverty

My girl best friend once described me as someone who knew poverty wouldn't end in her lifetime but works for it anyway. Some days I feel that's too generous of her. Some days, I just look at it as a mantra. How can you live sated in a world where poverty is chronic and intergenerational anyway?

Chronic Poverty simply means people who are born poor, live poor and die poor. Intergenerational means it has been a situation that has affected parents to offspring in a seemingly vicious pattern. If we look at mere statistics, Filipinos are a little better off than our neighboring countries in terms of numbers of the absolute poor. But once we take into consideration the proportions of the poor vs. the rich, we will see that it is extremely skewed in favor of the rich.

Based on the study I'm reading (from the University of Manchester on Life-course, intergenerational and chronic poverty and the SEAsian Youth), the Philippines is better off than Vietnam, but the situation is still dire. More youth are stopping their education to work and get underpaid. More often than not, the youth who are poor today are children of parents who grew up poor years ago. It is very rare for adults who grew up poor to rise above the poverty line. In fact, only an average of 2% population was able to move out of poverty in the last 5 years.

Imagine that, to be poor all your life and to know for certain that your children will most probably stay poor because of the lack of opportunities in education and improved health and well-being services.

It's disheartening. Sometimes, I don't know why we eve bother. But... I still believe this:

If a group of people, no matter how small, work together for a common goal, great things an be achieved.

My students once disarmed me by asking: "Honestly Miss, do you think Poverty will ever stop?"

I don't know if I gave them the right answer, but I did give them an honest one.

Eradicating poverty is probably a hopeless cause. But I'd rather fight for it and improve the chances of achieving the dream rather than not work for it at all. I think, it's worth taking the risk. The benefits of a non-poor world is too valuable not to strive for.

And yes, this I really believe.

Sunday, November 11, 2007


Visited our adoration chapel after mass today. Upon entering, it smelt like a hospital room and I gasped at the memory it brought crashing back. It smells like Mummy's room in the hospital. I realized that's the closest I could get to her now. Smells, pictures, places where memory holds her in place. Where I could always run back to when I desperately need her or miss her.

I like the chapel. It felt like a sanctuary. My heart stops hurting when I'm inside. I can cry my guts out and it's okay. I always feel comforted afterwards. I think I need to seek out more quiet places. It gives me space to think. Maybe if I stick to the chapel, I wouldn't feel so godforsakenly lost like I do now.

I keep harking on about not wanting to be lonely but maybe SOLITUDE is the best thing for me right now. I need to gather myself, before God unfurls me to my future. Whatever it holds for me, it must be important if not to people, then to Him. To Them.

Whew. I'm looking forward to it, seeing them again at the end of time, on the other side of Armageddon. What a family reunion it would be. :p It'll be colossal.


So much has happened before Dorothy dropped in.

Aye to that. I had been circling this book since 2003, but I kept deciding not to buy it because it looks ---- well --- boring. But my God. Proves how much of an idiot I can be.

I haven't exactly finished it yet, and I'm itching to finish this post and go back to it even if it's 10:30 p.m. already. Sure, it doesn't roll easily on the brain cells, but I can't belive how much it has engaged me. I think I have a new heroine in Elphaba. And it's scary because I think I have much of Glinda in me. Geez.

Dunno know what I'm talking about?

Go read the book then and be enlightened. Believe me, it's...yep, I'm gonna say it...

It's Wicked.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Night Cab Ride

After an exhausting week (two 2-day trainings, mad-scram preparations and whole day classes in La Salle), I went to the gym and sweated all the stress out. After which all my muscles groaned in pain and on a whim, I took a cab home.

Night is beautiful. Everything seems indeterminate in moonlight. Almost everything gets that surreal quality that stands out starkly in sunlight. Even moldy old buildings become graceful with just a little lighting. And oh, the lights. They're like fireflies.

Something stole over me as my silent cab driver maneouvered our way through insane traffic. I just kept my eyes pinned at the passing scenery and it came. It was ---- solace. I think. Or maybe it was --- hmmm...this is hard --- happiness? Can it be happiness? Is it possible to be happy and content even if it's only been barely a year since they've gone?

But I suppose, it is possible. Knowing myself, I don't need ALL aspects of my life to be peachy to get this feeling. Sometimes, it comes even if I'm terribly upset about something. There's this... RIGHT-ness. It's an alignment which fits. If I had a movie camera, it's like I'm panning the scenery and then suddenly focusing on a minute detail which suddenly expands into a whole picture. I wish i can explain it better.

But I'm sure you've felt it. I think it's one of those things that keeps us human. Maybe you should try a late night cab ride too. :p Not too late though or you might just end up as holdupper meat. :p

Sigh. Tonight should last forever.

Tuesday, November 06, 2007

Tsk, tsk...

Amazing. I dreamt of Bast and Seb last night. Yep. Both of them.

It started out with Bast appearing in my dreams like he had a right to be there. What I like about dreams is that everything is simplified and amplified. Even emotions. So in my dream, I had license to feel surprised, then excited to see him again. I saw that something stable inside of him again. Like moth to a flame, I was drawn in once more. I remembered that my Dad wanted to meet him, because I was head over heels infatuated with him when I came back from the mountains. But now, I suppose, he'll never meet my dad. In my dream, Bast and I were just talking. And he was looking at me as if he knew something was different and it somehow made me interesting.

Then Seb came. I opened a door and there he was. Standing inside the room, as if waiting for me all along. First thought: Uh-oh, I'm confused. He'll see Bast and he'll get jealous and he'll think I do not care for him as much. I decided (the word is decided but I think it was really more of an instinct and I just decided to follow it) to run to him and hug him. And when I hugged him, it was the most comfortable thing in the world. And it felt like coming home.

So now. I'm confused about being confused. Am I really still confused? Is Bast enough to clear my head about Seb? Or is my dream trying to tell me that my heart has made a choice and I'm pretty much screwed?

When God invented love and romancee, He should've done what any slf-respecting inventor did: Make a freakin' manual.

But then, it woldn't be half as exciting, I suppose. I'm still deciding if excitement is worth the insanity though. I really cannot decide.

Sunday, November 04, 2007

Girl, Finally

Book in Hand: Summer Knight by Jim Butcher
Song in Mind: "They're tiny, they're toon-y, they're all a little loony..."

12 years ago, I would have never believed it.

12 years ago, my idea of personalized style included a baseball cap, rugged jeans and a plain, loose dark shirt. My wardrobe was full of black and dark blue stuff. You can never make me wear anything pink. But I think I backslided when I started loving the color violet. In college, not only my clothes were violet ---bags, ballpens, rulers --- geez, you name it, were all in the shades of this royal color as well.

Until finally, I was forced to wear pink and I realized my cheeks looked more flushed -- in effect, prettier --- when I'm wearing rosy shades. To complete the transformation, a boy I liked told me I look pretty in pink. And I don't think he meant "like a pretty pink balloon" which pretty much summarizes why I wanted to stay away from the color.

I'm not saying I now belong to the Cult of the Sisters of All Things Pink, but I favor the color these days. And when I started liking pink, I started realizing I happen to like white, peach, flesh and warm browns as well as lacy, ruffled things. I even like those delicate designs on shirts which makes me feel softer and feminine.

Huh. My 12-year-old self is puking her guts out. But....

It makes me feel strong to look like a girl now. Back then, I did not want to be labeled "maarte" so I avoided all things girly. I think now, I've matured enough to realize that "girly" does not mean "frivolous." "Flirty" in moderation isn't "malandi" at all. And most of all, "feminine" dos not mean weak or you are in constant need of rescuing as a damsel in distress.

I am capable. I am confident. I know myself.

I am a girl, finally.

Davao Wacky Horror Picture Show

Jack's Ridge : Frontage

An interesting detail on the mural behind me:

The controversial Statue of David at the waterfront:

(why controversial? because it has man's genitalia in full regalia on display, and Dabaweños being Catholics think it's .... uhm... inappropriate) (the Greeks are probably rolling over their graves right now)

Davao Crocodile Park frozen animals (j/k!)

Gabe, Champ (both cousins) and moi

Ella's Cheesy Pic #1 (With Pangil, the man-eater crocodile)

Tito Ron (whom we call Toron) posing on an accidental signage:

Me and Dabaw:

The National Shrine for the Sto. Niño:

Ella and Gabe coming from Paradise Island.

My cousins Nikki and Abigail.

Ella's Cheesy Pic #2

Family Picture

Saturday, November 03, 2007

Searching for a Raison'detre

Read EXTREMELY LOUD AND INCREDIBLY CLOSE by Jonathan Safran Foer. Broke my heart a year ago. Still breaks my heart now. It's about a kid whose father died during the Sept. 11 attack in NY and now he's trying to understand the msytery of the key he found in his dad's closet.

His search takes him everywhere. But all in all, what he was looking for was a new raison d'etre. Touche. All he ever wished was that time can run backwards and then they will both be safe back in their beds, his dad telling him the story about NY's sixth borough the night before he died.

With Daddy it would have been like this:

The taxi would've ran backwards coming from the hospital. We'll carry him back inside the house. He would've stood up and cooked Christmas ham. Then the visitors would have left walking backwards. Then I would've smelled the Spam. Then ......

Then moving the right way forward again, I'll use this time to stand up when I smelled breakfast cooking. This time, I'll wake up, choose to help cook breakfast. I would've fed Daddy something. Anything. His glucose wouldn't have had crashed. He would've eaten something. The visitors would have arrived, told him they can fix the washing machine. They could've fixed the danged machine. They could've left and we could've been watching tv.

3 days later, we could've been celebrating Christmas as a whole family. Then Mummy might not have died of loneliness. I'm sure it will not remove her cancer cells. But...

it would've been a complete Christmas. Even if it was really the last.

I can't imagine Christmas. I can't.

I love Christmas. I could not bring myself to hate it even now. But what is Christmas without family?

I need a new raison d'etre. I want... a way to excise the pain. But maybe what I need is a way to go beyond it. And still live a life.

Dresden Files

Over the long vacation I have been spending my time soaking up the different Jim butcher series called "Dresden Files." There's a similar show in the states based on the book, but as before, I'm a bigger fan of the book.

Harry Dresden is the only wizard listed in the Chicago phone book. Yes, he advertises his services but only helps out with really dire, serious cases. No, he does not make love potions either. And man, the writing is engaging! Sobra. When Harry's battling werewolves, or putting down necromancers, or dealing with the sidhe, or kicking vampires.... it rocks.

You have to reads it to love it. Oh, and yeah, National Bookstore sells a version of it for P 425 - 626 / copy. I love National, but Powerbooks offers another edition that only costs P 385 each. So, sorry po. But I'm practical lang. Grab your copies now. :P

Friday, November 02, 2007

Hindi kinaya ng powers ko ang November 1. Akala ko nga lalagpas ng walang major breakdown. Hindi pala. :c
Book in Hand:
Song in Mind:

Saturday, October 27, 2007

I Want My Yaya Back!

Okay.... this is going to sound waaaaay immature. But Ella and I both work miles away from home and we get back to Fairview in the wee hours of the night. The next morning, we have to wake up at 4:30 and leave by 5:30 a.m. Saturdays, I teach in La Salle the whole day. Sundays, God, would you want to work your ass of after a hectic week like that? Where, in God's good earth, can we find the time and energy to: pick up dog poop, feed the dogs, tend the garden, wash clothes, iron clothes, cook, and still have some space to breathe before knocking off?

I don't know. I freakin' don't know!!! I want Ate Josie back! My parents had to send her home 3 years ago because we didn't have money to pay her anymore... and they needed their medicines more. She was with us for 11 years. But now... I'm hoping we can try to get her back. I have convinced myself that I just don't want a maid, but we need it. The house needs it. It's falling apart.
I have learned more about running a household in 10 months than I have ever had in my 25 years. My parents gone and everything --- it really tends to sober you up and somebody had to bear the brunt of responsibility. But--- please, dear Lord, I can't do it alone!
Now, action. I must take action.

I'll scream with all my might (withmatching tears, tears pa sa eyes): Yaya, come back!

Friday, October 26, 2007

A Bit of a Blog Slow Down

Yes, if you've noticed my lagging posts, it's because I do have a more demanding work life than I ever had in my old unit. And so far, I'm still enjoying it.

Another thing is: I'm getting so attached to the gym. Yes!!! A gym! Me, working out! Doing cardio, lugging weights around, sweating.... no, you're not hallucinating.

Ganito pala if you're losing pounds:

-I can wear prettier clothes.
-People take a second look at you and not because you resemble Roseanne Barr.
-I feel lighter, and can even run faster now.
- I just feel better.

From size 22, I am now down to size 18. I don't deprive myself of sweets or fats: i just take lesser portions. And I think my oral hypoglycemic medicines are also helping. I have lost 13 pounds and people I know are starting to notice.

The one person I want to notice though... is still obstinately clueless. Argh.

Oh well. Lemme reap the benefits. Baka he'll notice my new confidence and finally konk his head. :P

Thursday, October 25, 2007

Romancing the Ordinary

I'm trying to jog my brains so I could find new topics to talk about. My emo stuff can get boring --- I KNOW, and I could only talk about the frustrations of falling in love like... seven hundred times... until it gets stale. I need new words. I need new inspiration.

So I think I'll dwell on my favorite phrase: Romancing the Ordinary.

There is a book like that and it was authored by Sarah Ban Breathnach. Find the wonderful book if you can. When my Mummy gave it to me for my 20th birthday, it changed my life. It's not at all a spiritual book, but it helped me find my spirituality. I think it even helped me find myself --- and get a glimmering of who I am supposed to be.

The point is simple: find magic in ordinary things. That is the KEY to a happy life. We all live our lives waiting for the wonderful and the brilliant. But that comes to us in maybe 10% out of the 100% of our lives. And that's talking in averages. And so, a lot of people end up not feeling like they are living a life. Most of the time, it just feels like they're waiting for something to happen. WHich isn't bad altogether, but it just isn't the same as realizing that to live life, one should appreciate every detail of it. Even the mundane, glamorless aspects that makes up our daily lives.

I have a lot of reason to keep feeling blue. And sometimes, I indulge in the sadness. But it feels different when you learn to appreciate simple stuff like:

1) hot warm bath
2) a friend's heartfelt goodbye greeting
3) a funny text message
4) walking down a tree-lined street
5) cool airconditioning in nice, shiny malls
6) watching 2 strangers (a girl and a boy) in a mock fight but the truth is they're being pa-cute with each other
7) Looking eye to eye with a 5-year old kid at the back of his Dad's motorbike and making him smile (although I was thinking it was kind of dangerous for him to be there at all)
8) nice-looking boys at the gym (but they're all probably gay)
9) men looking at me as if they think I'm pretty (they probably think otherwise, but I can pretend, eh?)
10) Strawberry shake and bibingka!!!
And that's just a short list for what I found wonderful the last 2 days.

There's a lot of nice, quirky, hilarious stuff you could list down and if you look back, it kind of makes you feel --- Ok. Content. Not bad.

Which is just good. Not bad. Eh? :P

Thursday, October 18, 2007

Keep Away!

Oh doesn't this speak for me right now?!

Give me a mallet and I'll make quick with this pesky little brat.

Wednesday, October 17, 2007

Davao Day 2, 3 & 4

Absolute sorriness....

My uncle's dsl connection went haywire the last few days as if deliberately keeping me away from the net. Which is good because it flung me to other better things. Like enjoying our vacation.

Samal Island was great! I wish I was able to download the pics already but I made a mistake. I took videos pala and not stills. Kainis. So I won't even be able to show you the pics. Argh. Believe me, I did this all day today:

Anyway, we also went to visit the following places:

1. Crocodile Farm - much nicer than the one in Palawan, but much more expensive too. Entrance fee costs P100 for adults and P 50 for kids.

2. Paradise BEach Resort in Samal Island- from Davao, you only have to take a 12-peso ride on a boat, pay a P90 entrance fee and you are in an island paradise. :P Nice

3. Butterfly Farm - just like the one in Palawan.

4. NCC Mall, Gaisano Ilustre and opkors, SM< Davao - wala lang, can't get the mall rat culture out of my system talaga

5. Bangkerohan - and got myself 4 shirts (na pwede panglakad) for only P 10 amd P25 pesos. Astig!

6. Jack's Ridge and Dencio's - la lang, for the view

7. And best of all, our house in Davao which reminds me of how we used to be when the family was whole. :)

I'll try to grab stills from my freken videos, k? But if I do not succeed, know that I suck. :P