Liv in a Life Well-Lived

My sister said I'm bitchy tonight. Well, that officialy starts summer then. The only stimulus for my irritation is extreme heat, and I hate the weather right now. I like the sun as an individual entity, and when I look at it from underneath a cool shade. But I hate summer. Hate. Hate. It's even taken the edge of excitement for my impending trip with the girls tomorrow. Cagayan de Oro. Hmp. Who wants to go there anyways? I didn't. I'm only going because of Camiguin. But I am not looking forward to ziplining, parasailing or canopy walking. Right now, I think of it as cheap thrill-seeking and completely irrelevant to my life. So what if I do death-defying stunts over and over again? I've been through worse. I would consider myself idiotic if I fall for that. And I'll be with the girls --- the last time, Dre almost bit Yel's head off, and I suppose I didn't help ease the situation. Andrea is stubborn, Mariel is stubborn, Sep is stubborn, I am stubborn. We ar

“My mom is a special person --- this cannot happen to her for no reason…” -Kris Aquino I can help her understand a thing or two, this little girl Kris. Suffering happens to everyone --- rich, poor, naïve, jaded, young, old, fat, thin ---- everyone. Tragedy strikes anyone ---- ex-president or not, wise or otherwise --- anyone. Nobody is special to the eyes Fate. There is always a reason --- but more often than not it is something we cannot make sense of. The way Kris said it, it sounded like she’s fully expecting her mother to recover and add Cancer Survivor to her brilliant resume. She sounded as if implying ‘Nothing too bad will happen because she’s special.’ Add to that, “God cannot do this to me, because I’m special too.” No, don’t smirk at her. It’s crippled thinking, but an instinctive one. The people we love are special, and there will always be the tendency to think: No, It Won’t Happen Here. She sounded like me, a couple of years ago. Oh no, not My Daddy. He’s special. Loved by

Name one childhood thing that you can’t resist but return to no matter how hard you try to shake it off, and I’ll give you mine. Ice Cream Cones? Computer Games? Skipping Rope? Bakelite cakes? Hero Figurines? Really you? Well, me, it’s playing The Sims. And that’s just the first in a long list (so I indulge on my inner child, what?) It’s a god-thing. The one and only time you can actually be in control of your environment, the people around you, when to make them shit or bathe or have babies, fall in love with the person you want them to fall for… It’s uber-cool. And best of all, there are cheat codes. Life can take a shortcut. Why work your ass off when you could just press ctrl+shift+c then type in motherlode and you’d have 50 grand just like that? This leaves your character to enjoy studying/sleeping around/indulging in their extreme OC-ness. They can have as many freakin’ children as they want and call the Nanny day and night so they could frolic around. It is uh-mazing. I probabl

The motor of our water pump was stolen. True. We rarely go home anymore and the thief have had lots of opportunities to get into the backyard and do whatever they want. Our no-good dogs probably watched him dissemble the thing. I have turned my back on everything occult, but it's so very tempting to call on the earthly spirits I have felt near our house to freak the livin' daylights off the next person who even as much breathe inside the compound without our consent. Some freaky dwende to make kalabit the next person who tries to dislodge any lock, disturb any cranny or do anything illegal. A kapre to kick the person's gut out. And even the boy-ghost, who I am yet to meet but has made the acquaintance of the other house members, it'll be handy to have him float around to terrify a thief to stone. But... they're tricky creatures and I do not want to know what their end of the bargain will be like. I just hate being violated this way. My sanctuary being breached. Bast

Something about Holy Friday always makes me feel empty inside. This has been years in the making. Even back then when my parents were so involved in the charismatic community and they rang up a busy schedule during the holy days. Me, I'll just space out or pretend that another Holy Week will pass without exerting overt expressions of faith from my soul. Now, without their initiations of Pabasa and Siete Palabras... I feel even more emptier. I had a daydream today wherein I imagined that there will come a day when I will see an old couple walk past me in a mall or a parking lot somewhere in this universe. They will remind me of my parents and I won't be able to help the tears. They will see me crying and somehow, for some odd reason they approach me and comfort me. The old woman will be carrying a bouquet of roses and she'll give me one. They will both hug me and tell me, "You won't always be so lost. Just always look at the sun." I will be so stunned from the

I think I mentioned before that our favourite priest (Fr. Mar Ladra) recently published a prayer book called "Straight from the Heart." I had the honour of being asked to write a prayer for orphans to be published in the book. And today, when the world seemed bleak, i re-read what I wrote and it gave me back a bit more heart. I would just like to share it with everyone, it being Lent and all. I also encourage you to buy the prayer book; it is a comforting companion. PRAYER FOR AN ORPHAN Father Almighty, I stand before you, alone, stripped of the borders that once kept me safe, grieving and at a complete loss. You gifted me with such good parents and it is difficult to accept that I lost them this early, this fast. In Your mercy, lead me through this darkness into the light of your Presence. Help me remain strong against the onslaught of doubt, confusion and pain. Help me keep to the lessons my parents taught me and to keep my conviction to remain trusting in Your Divine Plan.

I'm in love with a man-whore. I haven't been able to refrain myself from indulging in Adam Levine mania lately. It doesn't help that their billboards for their Manila concert are still up and distracting the hell out of me. I never really liked him that much until I watched the concert and he loomed -- well, not bigger than life, quite the opposite --- he looked just so real that finally I had to believe Mariel's constant shirking of "OMG, Adam's hot, etc..." Sadly, I now agree. Sad because this often leads to brief creative periods for me and then after that --- pffffft. Sad because my imagination has no reins and I am sure it will involve various plots and mechanism on how sometime in the future he and I will meet, fall in love, get married, and *blush* well, let's just say married et.al. Then of course, the crash back to earth will be hard and cruel. It's a wonder I could keep my sanity even if I'm living (or imagining) as violently as I do.

We lose things along the way. Sometimes they are just things --- trivial stuff that often send us careening towards the deep end. Misplaced keys, a favorite book, the clasp of an earring, IDs, the remote control.... you've been there. These lost things will get us digging under bed covers, inside the car, all your bags, the sink, the toilet bowl and finally, the trash can. There are times when we find it, lucky you. But sometimes, we don't. Imagine then if we were conscious of losing the big things. And I don't mean just people --- losing loved ones are always pretty obvious. I'm talking about the small big things, like how it felt when you first rode the bike, or completed your first HomeEc project on your own, or even the first time you baked cookies that didn't have goo in the center. And how about the smaller things than that? Like how it felt when you drank calamnsi juice your Mommy made you every day after school. The last times I drank Calamansi juice was two

Everyday, I try to fill in the shoes you left behind. When you took this picture, maybe you didn't know that it will be the most important photo I will hold on to after you're gone. When you took this picture, all I was thinking of was how not to trip on your overlarge shoes. When this picture was taken, both of us had no idea what we were capturing would eventually point me to my life's direction. Now, more than ever, I realized how big and heavy they were. I still trip on them and stumble around. But more and more now, it feels like I'm wearing two floating ships which steers on its own as well. All I have to do is trust it, and it'll bring me where I need to go. Somewhere --- I am always hoping---- nearer you. Daddy, trust me, I will never stop trying.

It's all over the news: Students take part in a rally at the Liwasang Bonifacio today. Contrary to other news items, I am aware of this one because it took place near work. I happened to pass by the Manila Post Office on my way home and heard the "rally" progressing. They weren't picketing or shouting though. Creatively, they held a concert instead. I chanced upon a youth group singing a rap song about the corrupt people in the government and you know what? They weren't half bad. The lyrics were actually kind of hilarious. And heated. ridiculous but well-rhymed. I was surprised. It was almost another kind of genius. Twisted and crude, uh-huh, but a talent nonetheless. "Akala ko ang buwaya ay nandun lang sa kanto... Yun pala may buwaya rin doon sa may palasyo.. sana lahat ng corrupt sabay-sabay pumanget... Sabay-sabay sumara butas ng kanilang puwet... Pag eleksyon may karga-karga silang bata... Pero pag tapos na di na marunong makibaka... Natapos na ang termin

Hay... I'm in a mood tonight. Do you ever get one of those days when you just worry about everything? Yeah, that happens, eh? Like a persistent vacuum cleaner salesman, it just keeps knocking. You remember the Imarflex man? Hay... Speaking of men, not wanting to sound impatient here, but... All good men seem to be taken nowadays. Kahapon sa Krispy Kreme, may pumasok na 5 guys all wearing white barongs (probably from a nearby corporate office) and all of them were drop-dead cute. As in my first reaction was... Shiite. Nasan sila sa buhay ko? I have been doing my best, going on with my life, pretending not to notice the dearth of men falling in line outside my door. But days like these, when you wish somebody was there to have carried the laptop for you on the way home... can't help but wonder. I was also asked a weird question today. Somebody point blank asked me if I was falling for somebody they knew. I'm not stupid, I've been noticing the questioning glances. The best

My uncle and aunt had to go to DFA today to fix my 4-year-old cousin's passport. They left the house quite early, while Gabe was still asleep. Not surprisingly, the little boy let out a howler once he woke up because his Mom and Dad weren't home to make him eat breakfast or take a bath. It didn't make a difference that they had been telling him about leaving him to my care today because of the errand days before. Since they anticipated his reaction, my uncle wrote Gabe a letter explaining why they had to go. It went like this (or something): Dear Son, Mom and Dad went to the Department of Foreign Affairs today to fix your passport. We will meet you in school after we're done. So eat your nice breakfast (hotdogs and fried egg!) and take a bath (Ate Liv will bathe you and you can take your rubber ducky) so you won't be late for school. We will see you later! Love, Mom and Dad Gabe read this on his own, and I read along with him. I wasn't expecting such a visceral

Something about the way Oliver Sacks describes his medical experiences makes you forget he is using words you have never heard of in your life. Even with my minor degree in Psychology, he uses psychiatric words that means 'numble-jumble" to me. I've been reading Random House's Vintage Sacks and came across the 3 most fascinating people I have never met. Miss Rose's Stolen Life From a high-flying, high-living maidensturm, Rose at age 21 was struck by a rare case of encephalitis lethargica and lived the next forty years inside a jail cell purely constructed by her mind. At first she suffered from minor indications of intense concentration and catatonic reactions, but after a while, her whole body was so imprisoned by the disease that drooling and vacant stares became as natural to her as breathing. After being treated by Sacks though, Rose seemed to have awakened for a while, enough to narrate how it feels to be inside her head. Mostly, she describes it as a kind of

Tell me if there's a psychological explanation for this, because it baffles me no end. I have been craving for food that has got tomatoes or tomato sauce in it. So for a whole week, I have partnered every dish with chopped tomatoes (made interesting with pepper, garlic and onions), or pairing it up with salad dressing, or drenching pasta in sour-sweet real tomato sauce or that perfect pizza with soft squishy tomatoes on top (think Sbarro Chicago Everything not Yellow Cab). Anything that has the red fruit on it (it is a technically a fruit, right?) won't last 5 minutes on the dinner table. I'm starting to wonder if there's a lycopene-induced growth we all pass through, or I'm just plain going bonkers. It's all Chef D'Angelo's red sauce pasta's fault. That's what started me on red sauces. Now, I'm hooked and I cannot, for the life of everything that's red in the world, ever get enough.

I used to believe madali lang ako magsawa… But I realized that it’s not 100% true. What I am is madaling maubos… Now that i am in the Training field, I observed that I will have periods of extreme creativity and energy and then just as suddenly lose it and spend weeks in comatose. It’s as if I do not know how to conserve energy. But if my work life will be anything like what it’s shaping up to be (2-3 trainings per month), I will not survive. I will be juiced out. How does one save herself from herself? I’ll be freakin’ jolly if I ever find out.

Young boys and girls, I am proud to relay that your Granny Livie did not make a fool of herself during the Maroon 5 Concert. Sure there were "blonde" moments as to be expected, but over-all, I managed not to be the ditz I can become. Blonde Moment #1 I am wearing my office attire. With heels. (But what do you expect, I carry a whole wardrobe change?) Blonde Moment #2 It took me a while before I had to the guts to stand up and sing along and dance to the music. Blonde Moment #3 A cute boy asked me where the entrance to the Lower Box area is and I stammered, "Below?" Suave. Blonde Moment #4 I didn't know whether to clap or raise my hands up in the air during high points of the concert. So I just stomped my feet. At one point though, I realized I looked like a mare in heat, so I quit. Blonde Moment#5 Everytime Adam Levine faces our side of the coliseum, I WAVE. AS IF HE COULD FREAKIN' SEE ME. But there were redeemin' moments.... Proud Moment#1 I know the ly

The human story is about being lost and being found. Being loved and being left. Sometimes I want to rail at the world because I know... countless people have been through the mirage and the murk; all have wondered if they will ever find their way. Each believes their story is unique. But we all actually just repeat history. We all just repeat ourselves. All the more I wonder, what a very patient God we have. To hear the same whining and mourning all over the planet from different hurting hearts, it must take some colossal strength. Doesn't He get tired of it? And me, staring at the ceiling, trying to accept that the floundering feeling inside me, the lost little girl, is a normal thing. Countless people have been through worse, and I have no cause for complaint. I ought not to think too much. I spend too much time staring into empty spaces. I don't know if this is a good thing anymore. But I wouldn't be myself if I didn't wonder.

The last 2 months I have been sighing and heaving because I cannot afford Maroon 5 Manila concert tickets. But lo and behold! Andrea has freebie tickets and she's taking me and the girls!!! Even my sister!!! She texted me today and I squealed so loud in the car that my uncle stepped on the breaks thinking something was wrong. I squealed! Like a freakin' school girl! I'm so happy! Lord, bless my friends, they love me! Hahaha!

It's a sad, sad day for me when I realized that my sister, Ella, who cannot even spell or define "mnemonics" and my close friend, Ian, whose short-term goal in life is to buy a Gundam DIY Robot, knows more about the ZTE issue than I do. Before you judge me apathetic though, consider first that Sis does work in Senate and the words "ZTE" and "JPEPA" falls from her colleagues' mouth more often than they could breathe. Yes, that's how caught up they are in it. Obviously, Mar Roxas, who's positioning himself for a presidency ( or so others say ) needs to be constantly updated. Give me an issue that's making the rounds of the Senate hearing sessions, and be sure Ella knows it. But ask her directions to Monumento coming from Munoz and you'll end up in Zamboanga. Ian, on the other hand, is a man ( or rather --- boy ) obsessed. His usual 89.9 radio station was replaced by Radyo Balita when Lozada was testifying. A couple of times while hitc

I relayed my parents' deaths to a colleague without shedding a tear... for the first time.

I haven't heard more heavenly music than Mozart's Pachelbel. It soothes me to no end. Listening to it, the world itself might as well have grown a few shades brighter. I'm so walking down the aisle to to this on my wedding day. wink wink ;)