Monday, September 20, 2010

gold does not glitter




"All that is gold does not glitter,
Not all those who wander are lost;
The old that is strong does not wither,
Deep roots are not reached by the frost.


 From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
A light from the shadows shall spring;
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
The crownless again shall be king."

— J.R.R. Tolkien (The Fellowship of the Ring)

Thursday, September 2, 2010

slow kiss goodnight

Love is stories that will never be told.
Love is a slow kiss goodnight.
It is anticipation.

Love is an imperfection in yourself not bothering you.
It is acceptance.

Love is passing up the opportunity because the time isn't right yet.
It is patience.

Love is a back massage that starts above the hairline and ends around the innersoles.
It is exploration.

Love is not having to say, "Lets make love", because you know what the other person wants.
It is understanding.

Love is being given an honest chance to say no when you thought you were committed.
It is consideration.

Love is saying the perfect phrase to make a solemn embrace dissolve into giggles.
It is humor.

Love is being told, "Stop and I'll kill you."
It is desire.

Love is reviewing the damage to your living room and realizing
personal effects are strewn in a clockwise pattern from the front door to the bedroom.
It is abandonment.

Love is seeing what your lover really looks like for the first time.
It is truth.

Love is knowing what time it is and not caring.
It is joy.

Love is the arms around you tightening their embrace.
It is ecstasy.

Love is telling a person, if you have to leave, you will let them sleep,
and being told they would rather be awakened.
It is tenderness.

Love is waking up to find the subject of the dream you were having asleep on your shoulder.
It is where fantasy meets reality.

Love is being there to wake your lover....slowly.
It is sensuousness.

Love is belatedly knowing why you bought a king size bed three years ago.
It is practicality.

Love is two people only taking up a third of the king sized bed.
It is closeness.

Love is knowing you gave the extra set of keys to the right person.
It is trust.

Love is saying goodbye and knowing you'll be back by mutual consent.
It is faith.

Love is stretching your arms and discovering the real meaning of the word "sore."
It is a lesson in human frailty.

Love is opening up your medicine cabinet and finding your toothpaste turned into a pretzel.
It is adaption.

Love is sitting at the window, looking out, and remembering who you were with the night before.
It is reflection.

Love is hearing the weather forecast for a winter storm,
and wishing you could spend it in bed with your lover.
It is loneliness.

Love is stories that will never be told.
It is personal.

Love is a slow kiss goodnight. 

XOXO.

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

getting mad at alex

I am torn between another episode of the Secret Diary of a Call Girl and heading to the shower to get myself ready for work. I cannot choose between the two evils, therefore, I write.

Billie Piper as Belle de Jour
In the last two episodes that I have seen, it's all about how a woman loves a man and how he decides to leave her in the end. Isn't there somewhere a point where a man is capable of the deed called "compromise"? They just do things that you would fall for and just let you...fall. That's it.

Apparently, there are so many things that they can do to lure women to the trap. She gets tangled with the little display of affection and his huge need. They have the tendency to project that they need  partners - in the real sense of the word - - - and women don't? Well maybe not as much as they do. As always, they can be excused.

How easy it is for them to find faults and all the ways to leave. May it be ego, politics or religion, all seem to be a valid reason to say goodbye and some do not even take a glance back at the dream that they have shattered.

All these seem unfair, but purposely I guess, that's what we are made for. The victory is in picking it up altogether...again.

the crank attack

Grumpy me-ow!!!
What's the crank all about?

I do not know exactly how and what part of the day made me start being cranky.  Is it because I wanted Jamie to be firm in her decision making and get the task back to those who were described to do the task? Whatever she decides to do, it has nothing to do with me anyway, so why do I fret? Or is it because my passport still remains at large? Have I lost faith in people and in my prayers already? This can't be happening.

Cynicism is not for me to embrace. It all starts from being cranky and the next stage to that is being numb. Nothing and no one around me was able to escape my criticisms...not even Sandra's MSN status message. She got some lashing from me for her bad English. In return for being such a bad girl, my MP3player broke down!

I want to go home now...and have a nice sleep. =(

Tuesday, August 17, 2010

bloodbath

TEAM UNBEATABLE.
"There is sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They are the messengers of overwhelming grief and of unspeakable love." - Washington Irving

Already on my last leg of Criminal Minds', I am four episodes away from the completion of Season 5. The next season will be aired on 22nd of September and it will take a while before I have a compilation again. Over the weekend, I was expecting bloodbath and a lot of trips inside the minds psychopaths. I never expected this season to be a tear-jerker. Its not about how they end up to be criminals, but sifting through the manner of their victims' death, there is a great yearning to be loved and understood.

What makes a psychopath? For behavioral analysts, it is shown in the manner how the predator devours the prey. As it is synonymous to antisocial personality disorder, it is characterized by narcissism, hedonism and displays histrionic behavior. Least have I known in my study of Psychology that psychopathy could be to one's advantage, too. Those who belong to Factor 1 has been correlated with narcissistic personality disorder, low anxiety, low empathy, low stress reaction and low suicide risk but high scores on scales of achievement and well-being. (Glad to know this!) Those who belong to Factor 2 are the ones displaying socially deviant behaviors. Psychopathy is not a stand alone disorder. At most times, it is accompanied by another one or two more personality disorders which makes it tricky enough to diagnose.

Set to be within the realm of FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, Criminal Minds focuses more on profiling and victimology. Relevant series CSI and NCIS focus more on forensics and physical evidence. CM concentrates on the intangible evidences and predictive behavior. More than team spirit, loyalty and ingenuity, the characters are purposely exceeding the expectations of their roles for every episode. For sure, there are a lot more to expect with Season 6.

Major perk: SSA Derek Morgan is just h-o-t! =)



Sunday, August 8, 2010

when you drop it like its hot

I dropped my stress ball and it rolled under my bed! I hate it when I drop things these days. Picking them up ain’t easy anymore. My spine attempts to snap with every bend. With my growing belly and never ending backaches, who would love to keep on stooping? My toes are even starting to disappear.

There are just some things in my life that I wish I didn’t drop – ‘coz it ain’t easy picking them up at all. There is a snap at every bend. Much more than that, there are mortalities. Some of them I cannot bring back to life, not in any form. Counting on the things that I have lost, it makes me feel so undeserving of the things that I have found along the way. Getting my way out of this confusion is a journey that I wish I could step into the light upon its culmination, without seeing heaven.

Like the morning begins the day, there are always new things to be found to compensate on the things that one has dropped and lost. If it rolled under some bed, there’s always a way to get it out of there. If there are no other ways, then there are other opportunities.

In college, I dropped a five-unit Chemistry class to make more time for campus journalism.I end up blogging.

=)

Friday, August 6, 2010

not a practical magic

Not because of the magic, spells and encantations that I am having a re-run of a 12 year old flick, Practical Magic. For some unknown reason, I am not able to play Faith Hill’s “This Kiss” on my player and I just feel like listening to even just a sound clip of it. Hanging around for halfway the movie made me realize that it’s not just the song… I missed my all time favorite. I missed hanging around with two gorgeous witches – Sal and Jilly Bean…

Sally said that she wished to fall in love with a man who’s got one eye green and the other blue. Such a man is less likely to exist. What does a little country girl know about genetics, anyway? If that man does not exist, therefore, she will not fall in love and die of a broken heart.

Just like her, “I dream of a love that even time will lie down and be still for.”

Yet, there isn’t any safe side. Time will roll and the world will never stand still just to be a spectator to a love affair. If it did, then, time and the world has long stopped ticking and revolving. And so will love. - for it evolves with the world and it copes with changes. Just as I once loved only me, then him, then we.

And the most practical amongst the magic, is that: when I get tired of loving one day, there will be warm little embraces telling me, “Mommy, it’s gonna be okay.”

Monday, August 2, 2010

donut trail on a birthday morning


On my way home from my morning walk at the nearby “talipapa”, I have noticed a trail of chewed donut bits . Some friendly flies are starting to swarm over the goodies. It is another obstacle to stay out of their way. Steps ahead I saw the little boy leaving the trail with his mom who seems to be oblivious of his wasting of food.  Tsk, tsk, tsk.

Ahhh…kids.

In less than 16 weeks, I will have mine. Anxiety is beginning to take its toll. Will childbirth be as laborious as I have heard from others? Or is it because I cannot impose discipline on a newborn? Or is this a prelude of PPD called pre-natal blues? Whatever it is, I need to blurt it out. Thank heavens I got a venture project for today – to try my luck in making my own Pancit Lucban. The control freak is taking over.

I got to change figures with my age once again. Adding up an age is something that one cannot assign to colleagues or subordinates. Uh-uh can’t run, much more can’t hide. Hmmmnn… I am not anxious about getting a year older, anyway. All of us will get there. Some just gets there sooner than the others, though. I have a full life ahead. Soon to complete my purpose of being a woman, I have never been excited in all my life. What I am as a person could partly be made know to the world in the kind of children I will bring up to this world.

Some family and friends have already sent out their birthday wishes and greetings that I have received and I thank them much for their thoughtfulness. I have realized the gifts that I have not in figures that or the places that I have been to, but with the hearts that still deem me a part of theirs in one way or another.

This is just another morning when the absence of a long coveted embrace is still missing. Hot pan de sal and great love songs will do. I have started yet another day. Just like the other days, this too will end in 24 hours.

Then, there is always tomorrow to look forward to.



Wednesday, June 30, 2010

digging blaise

There were times when literature is the only way - the only consolation to ten hours of being isolated on the 51st floor when the rest of the country is on a holiday. Most of all, in these times, the records of literature is all there is:

"And if one loves me for my judgement, memory, he does not love me, for I can lose these qualities without losing myself.

Where, then, is this love, if it be neither in the body nor in the soul?

And how love the body or the soul, except for these qualities which do not constitute me, since they are perishable?

For it is impossible and would be unjust to love the soul of a person in the abstract and whatever qualities might be therein.

We never, then, love a person, but only qualities.



Let us, then, jeer no more at those who are honoured on account of rank and office;

for we love a person only on account of borrowed qualities."


— Blaise Pascal (PensĆ©es)

Tuesday, June 15, 2010

don't take away the biggest part of me


If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
Oh, No please don't go
And if you leave me now, you'll take away the very heart of me
Oh, No please don't go
A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away?



We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way?
When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret things we said today



A love like ours is love that's hard to find
How could we let it slip away?



We've come too far to leave it all behind
How could we end it all this way?
When tomorrow comes and we'll both regret things we said today
If you leave me now, you'll take away the biggest part of me
Please don't go

Monday, June 7, 2010

glory without the crown =(

Insecurity + Impulse + Action = Bad hair.

Even if I scream and whine at the most expensive salon's door, no stylist would give me a rebond. Not even digital curls. No more hair spa, not even a steam. It would be an unwise move for any hair professional to even open the doors for me, just as I insisted for a hair spa last Saturday. My purpose? To let the curls out, but the long years of rebonding has made my hair more sensitive and it reacted differerently to the steam's heat. The moment I mentioned the services I wanted , there was resistance on the hair spa part, but I insisted with a promise of a really fat tip when all is done. I went out of the salon feeling "cute".

Yet, my crowning glory was transitory. Came the moment of truth after 24 hours when water washed away the conditioner that held the shine, moist and curls. It was like my scalp underwent ten years of drought that moisture was totally lost and each strand has a different world than the others. This morning, I tried all rescue moves with a strong hold mousse and hair curler, but to no avail. I have come to terms that I am going to live more than 365 bad hair days.

I bowed and prayed resentfully for the many insecurities that I have had. Bad hair and bloated, feeling overweight, shoes one size larger than normal, clothes rather too fit or would never fit at all anymore, alone and so un-loved...and so jealous!!! I was not able to hold it that I acted upon impulse. I have considered myself at the ugliest state, when I am supposed to feel blessed and beautiful. I, then, made a bargain with the Lord that if I may not be at the best shape, for as long as my baby is, I will battle myself and I will look forward to post-natal depression with glee.

The impulse for a strong shot of espresso has long been healed. Shopping in times like these would only lead to mourning over the stilletos that I cannot wear, and maternity clothes are such big no-no's! They would just make me look like a molested child. What plays to ease my mind is the thought of Disneyland and the scent of summer in HongKong.

Sigh! Haven't I just mentioned about battling myself???

I'd settle for a great big hug. =)

Monday, May 3, 2010

home making

Few years after, I am back to the "normal people" shift. I could'nt even remember the last time I worked on real working hours. It must be during the time I was teaching preschool and that was a little over five years ago. I don't understand the kind of excitement that swept me over when I woke up this morning. Was it the thought of good breakfast? I usually have the impulse to read even just a few pages, but not this time. There are a lot of things that come and go inside my head, only one stays - coming home. 

Do I even know where home is? Aside from my little street not mapped in Google, I have just recently talked to the elders of my family. I felt that if I go back home where I grew up, it will no longer be the same. There's still room for visits, but not for habitation as most adults in families best not see each other on a daily basis. With another life growing in me, I have to take charge of my life now.  I cannot just go back home, instead, I have to make my kid a home.

When Hope and I were chatting online, she asked "What if Mom didn't leave us before, do you think we would be closer to her now?" Dad wasn't there too, but why can we tell him how we feel in a better way? Don't you think Mom is missing something, or are we missing something? We thought about putting ourselves into Mom's shoes.

Since time immemorial, she had been a career woman - something which discouraged our Dad instead of making him responsible. When Mom was taking too much space in the corporate world and his disinterest in his profession, he left all the money-making to Mom, thus, having her to leave us to the care of our grands and nannies. There were times we wished to be home from school with a mother waiting by the door to lead us to the table with delicious snacks. That never happened because when we were old enough, we were sent to boarding school in the care of the nuns. They were sisters, not mothers.

It dawned into me that after a two-month maternity leave from work, who am I going to leave my kid to? Of course, I would hire a nanny, then put on a webcam in every corner of my little apartment and have it broadcasted online so that I can keep watch even if I am at work. You just can't trust anyone with your kid at this point in time. (Am I being too mommy-like already?)

For sure, if such technological amenities were available, Mom could have done the same. Still, I would like to come home to her for a visit, and how I want to share with her the kind of loving home that I am working out for my forming family - that home is always where the heart is.

(Photo courtesy of Ali A. Alsaffar. Thank you for sharing the photo of the loves of your life for the world to see. You have an amazing eye for beauty.)







Friday, April 30, 2010

terima kasih, SKYPE!!!

Being a Training Officer for Customer Service mainly requires you to practice most of what you preach. One of the many first things that I say in my training sessions is that, "You can overdo a "PLEASE", but never a "THANK YOU".

Just as I was longing to hear his voice and see his face, the world has given me some priveleges. If this is an overdo, then what does it matter for someone who is overjoyed? I just wanna say:

THANK YOU, SKYPE!!!


Thursday, April 22, 2010

beyond compare

B,

You started to be when I fell asleep on your daddy’s arms after a sweet and steamy Valentine date. When I woke up, I knew my life is going to change forever because I neglected to flush some residues before sleeping. When I saw your teeny-weeny little heart flapping with every beat, my own heart was crushed with happiness.

I just can’t believe that my life finally holds a life. I even doubted the first tests, and after spending too much on HPT’s, I gave it up. None of the results were less than two lines – enough to let me know that you are starting to take up your space in the world.

The first trip to the doctor was quite an adventure. I just pretended to have a flu, thinking I could get away from being tested, but these was no escape. She asked, “Who’s with you?” I told her, “I am alone, doctor.” She looked at me with unspoken questions in her eyes, so I snapped at her, “But I didn’t do it alone.” We both laughed at the reparte. Her next advise was a greater anxiety that I had to face. “End your suffering, let the daddy know.” Well, I eventually did...after two more weeks.



When daddy knew, I never knew he would be so happy. I thought I would get reprimanded, but he loves you just as much, although I know his knees turned to jelly and I can sense that he feels like being the next in line for circumcision for the second time. Anyway, I want you to know that, when you were made, we already had you in mind. You are both daddy and mommy’s dream come true. Right now, we are so glad that we are held responsible for the miracle of you.

I am just thankful of the blessings that I have now. When your daddy came into my life, I thought I won the lottery, but hey! With you now, its like winning the slot machine’s progressive jackpot!

Hang in there babe! I will see you soon, and we will journey through a beautiful life together.

Love,
Dad and Mom

Sunday, March 28, 2010

what faith can give hope

My Dearest Hope,

Three things will last forever--faith, hope, and love--and the greatest of these is love.
- Corinthians 3:13

When you said, “…because you’re not here…” It was a shot through my heart. I may be far, my dear, but I am ALWAYS where you are.

When mom brought you home as an infant, I already knew from grandma that I will be having a sister. I never liked the thought of it. It only means one thing. - sharing of attention and affection. I had always been a jealous and self protective kid, since I don’t have our parents around. That time, dad was still I med school and mom is building up her career so I had to live with our grandparents, having their hovering in full. I had no choice but to take on the role since I cannot let you stay inside mom’s tummy forever.

Anyway, as a part of the bargain, I didn’t have to be big sister to an infant who cries a lot at night for long hours because it was more of an enticing thought to be finally living with mom and dad. It was your turn to be left behind with our grandparents. Honestly, I have never taken the big sister role seriously.

Not until our little brother came along. That was the time that I really felt so responsible, mainly because I had to make his lunch when mom and dad is away. That is also the time we started living together. We used to be rivals. As they say, you were the “pretty one” and I am the “smarter one”. How I coveted you title! Remember those times that I don’t want you to tag along when I go out of our apartment? I used to be the cutest little girl on that street until you came to live with us. I accepted my title as the “smart one” when you could not even memorize your age and dad is having a hard time telling you that you are not “two years old, but already four!” It was an entry question for your pre-school. At that time, I wanted to lend you my brain so you could get into Kindergarten. Haha!

You grew up just as smart. In your own way, you did even better in school. We started being friends because we can’t get rid of each other. From rivals, we became allies. We would hide our clothes in a spare closet just in case we run away from home because we can’t take it anymore when our parents play favorites with our oblivious little brother. We would wait outside for two angels to just take us away.

People often see me as the outspoken one. I am the one whom they expect to do the most hideous things. You, being meeker, are expected to live a straighter life, according to the standards of society. At 16, you ran away from home and wrote your goodbye letter to mom and dad, they said those were my words (Yes, because you made me translate it in English, but those were your own!). I got really blamed, but I never told them where you were hiding even if I was the one who brought your stow away clothes to your school. I knew that I if I didn’t help you out, you will do it anyway. I wanted you to be safe so I became an accessory.

We are so much different in many ways, I know. I say the things I do and do the things I say. I am more visible. You, on the other hand say yes, but will do the opposite, and that makes you more stubborn. By heart, we are so much alike. We love for as much as we could. The Pharisees and the Hypocrites conclude that I am the predecessor of all of your mistakes. Yes, I made quite a handful, but I never encouraged you to tread the lurid grounds. In fact, I wanted you to always be on the safe side.

…but you are a very good stubborn.

You are smart and you are going to make it through just fine. I can not and will not tell you what to do. As I have said, you have me by your side now and always. I may not be a good example of a sister but you know that I am protective of you. Sometimes, all you’ve got to do is tell me. I may not give you the resolution but we can spend some time to laugh it off over donut and soy milk and pray hard during the silences in between.

I love you, Pya.

Standing by,
Faith

Thursday, March 25, 2010

shutter attempts

As what had been said, there is a time for everything.

Looking back at High School and college, it seems that I had a lot of time to do everything. I write, I paint, I go camping with friends, civic actions and a lot more. How could have I done all of those? Why can I not do it now? My world has definitely evolved.

Painting is a catharsis. I love colors and stroking my paintbrush with it on an empty canvass. Time constrained me to do some free verses and my canvass remains colorless until now. To cope with my passion for colors and the changing time, I can still capture beauty. I do beauty with much less time, this time.

My Choco-Butter:Now Famous.

Greenery.


Kampai!



The Pinks.



Tired of Being Sorry.



I Bloom Because I Must.



Desperately Finding Nemo.


Workaholic VS Exhaustion.

Thank you, photography. More to come!

Sunday, March 21, 2010

can a lost horse lead me home?

The month of March started out really busy. I had a lot of time to think but not much time to write it all down. I had a chance to come upon my compilation of stories from my dear Paulo C. (Finally, I have a copy of his latest - "The Winner Stands Alone.") and nothing refreshes me more than the thoughts from the Warrior of the Light.

*****

It pays to share, so here goes:


THE LOST HORSE (a repost)

Many years ago in a poor Chinese village, there lived a peasant with his son. His only material possession, apart from some land and a small straw hut, was a horse he had inherited from his father.

One day, the horse ran off, leaving the man with no animal with which to till the land. His neighbors - who respected him greatly for his honesty and diligence - came to his house to say how much they regretted what had happened. He thanked them for their visit, but asked:

- How can you know that what has happened has been a misfortune in my life?

Someone mumbled to a friend: "he can't accept reality, let him think what he wants, as long as he isn't saddened by what happened."

And the neighbors went off, pretending to agree with what they had heard.

A week later, the horse returned to the stable, but it was not alone; it brought with it a fine mare for company. Upon hearing this, the villagers - who were flustered since they now understood the answer the man had given them - returned to the peasant's house, in order to congratulate him on his good fortune.

- Before you had only one horse, and now you have two. Congratulations! - they said.
- Many thanks for your visit and for all your concern - answered the peasant. - But how can you know that what has happened has been a blessing in my life?

Disconcerted, and thinking he must be going mad, the neighbors went off, and on the way commented: "does he really not understand that God has sent him a gift?"

A month later, the peasant's son decided to tame the mare. But the animal unexpectedly reared up and the boy fell and broke his leg. The neighbors returned to the peasant's house - bringing gifts for the wounded boy. The mayor of the village offered his condolences to the father, saying that all were very sad at what had happened.

The man thanked them for their visit and their concern, but asked:
- How can you know that what has happened has been a misfortune in my life?

They were all astonished to hear this, since no one could be in any doubt that the accident of a son was a real tragedy. As they left the peasant's house, some said to others: "he really has gone mad; his only son might limp forever, and he is still in doubt about whether what happened is a misfortune."

Some months passed, and Japan declared war on China. The Emperor's envoys traveled throughout the land in search for healthy young men to be sent to the battle front. Upon arrival in the village, they recruited all the young men except the peasant's son, whose leg was broken.

None of the young men returned alive. The son recovered, the two animals bred and their offspring were sold at a good price. The peasant began visiting his neighbors to console and help them, - since they had at all times been so caring. Whenever one of them complained, the peasant said: "how do you know it is a misfortune?" If anyone become overjoyed, he asked: "how do you know it is a blessing?" And the men in that village understood that beyond appearances, life has other meanings.

*****

How, indeed would I know? Tsk, tsk...FAITH.

Friday, February 19, 2010

at war with freedom


You say you'll change the constitution
Well, you know
We all want to change your head
You tell me it's the institution
Well, you know
You better free you mind instead
-Revolution, The Beatles, August 1968

Long before I was born, people already fight for “freedom”. Many in the history books since grade school, we are required to read how a particular war came to be and how freedom is gained through violence. Yes, many have I studied and in my life, I too, had little wars to battle.

My dad is a big fan of war themed motion pictures - from men fighting in their g-strings and bow and arrows, bayonets and rotating M-16s. He is a Judo-Karate third Dan Black belter and a collector of hand guns. He would bring us to an open field and teach us – his girls – to fire one of his weapons. When we call home nowadays and asks for him, mom would say he could not be disturbed because he is still in meditation doing the Kata war dance. Perhaps, because of this, our house has three kinds of locks on the main door and other security devices installed. He said those measures are necessary so as to be always ready for any war at bay. If there’s fire inside and dad isn’t home, we sure would be toasted!

Yesterday there was a shoot out just a few steps from my apartment. My cousin who was there at the time took photos and posted it on Facebook a few minutes after it happened. There was a pool of blood on the road and I imagine walking by it on my way home later that night. The slain bodies of two hold-up gangmen laid there until after 9pm. Those robbers struggled for their freedom, but in a subdivision inhabitated by retired and inactive military officers, they got themselves voluntarily to the slaughterhouse. Good thing their bodies were taken right before my coming home time.

All these violence, for “FREEDOM”. It just so costly.

But what is freedom? Is it ultimate? Is it subjective? What does it breed? Chaos or peace? Is it theoretical? How practicable is it? These may be dormant questions, but when you begin to think about saving for your children’s future, it could be just as bothersome.

in the name of the law – freedom is a right
“No person shall be deprived of life, liberty, or property without due process of law, nor shall any person be denied the equal protection of the laws.” –The Philippine Constitution, Art.III (Bill of Rights), Sec. 1

How ironic it is that there is a law to ensure freedom and this was fought for – by the legislators who were hopeful about the changing times. I am glad that as a Filipino, I am encompassed by such.

In other countries, they too have their own lawful scope and view of freedom. When I travel to other places, I have to make sure that my moves are within the range of my right as a visitor in their land. Therefore, my so-called freedom shrinks the farther I get away from Philippine jurisdiction.

in the name of nature – freedom is survival
“You are my butterfly and refuse to set you free.”
-Shannon Hale

For its species to thrive, the butterfly’s metamorphosis has to be completed for it to be able to spread its wings to survive. Its wings gives it the capacity to get away from its predator, in as much as it gives it the freedom to choose where to go. In the animal kingdom where we all live, we could not discount ourselves that we need freedom to be able to flourish.

Naturally, we are born to struggle and fight for that freedom. Along the way, we have to kill and flee from predators to secure ourselves.

in the name of love – freedom is slavery
“Man has the urge to seek a source of authority and control upon reaching a freedom that was thought to be an individual’s true desire.”
-Erich Fromm, Escape from Freedom

In his most debated work, Erich From cited that although we are free, there is an innate need in us to be enslaved by someone else, therefore we seek to belong. There is no more oppressing feeling than the feeling of isolation and loneliness.

Given this theory, could it justify why we stay in relationships even though sometimes it hurts?

I began to imagine myself without him. I can go through every boutique in the mall without anybody telling me, “There’s nothing we need there, Honey…” I can go to an all night karaoke with my girlfriends without feeling guilty. I can post sexy profile pictures on FB, FS, MS, Orkut and etc. I can sleep late and even gulp Maggi Savor when I want to.

With all these freedom debates and other mind boggling questions, all I want is to go home and watch a good movie, listen to some Norah Jones or talk about it over coffee with someone.

Again, I began to imagine myself without him: Free and having coffee alone. I can’t.

All these compromises to escape freedom. It is just priceless.

Sunday, February 14, 2010

no reservations


"I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I am under the table,
after four I'm under my host."


-Dorothy Parker

People rush during Christmas sale. It is the busiest season in the world. Kids drool at the thought of Santa’s sleigh full of yummy goodies and toys. Reunions here, there and everywhere and of course, the gleeful carols. This is his favorite holiday.

Many mistake it as mine, too. I have a Facebook survey, questioning how much people on my friends’ list know me. I asked if they know my favorite holiday and if I remember it right, it was only my sister who knew that my favorite day is Valentine’s day. Majority said that I love Christmas. Yes, I too, I enjoy Christmas.

Although the day has direct connection with Saint Valentine having his feast day on the same date, both highlights love as the driving force for man to live. That is why in my heart of hearts, nothing beats the enchantment of Valentine’s Day.

When I saw the tent floating on the lake, I asked the resort attendant of that table is reserved for someone. As he answered yes, I knew it wasn’t for us. When I saw the lovers approaching their reserved floating table on a kayak, I wanted to get an eraser and take them off the scene.

There I was whining on the pool’s bar with my back on him, while he was making a conversation happen between us. He knew I wanted that table the moment I asked the attendant how much it costs to have something like that set up. Finally, I gave up staring at the now occupied table and asked for both of us to leave the premises before I could do more damage to my brain with my silence and almost falling tears.

How can I give justice to my flip out coiffeur? My eyeshadow would definitely be highlighted with a candle light as it matches my dress. We went all over the city for a table for two, but most people are out for occasional dinner…and there was none. The last flicker of hope died when he suggested my hated fast food chain’s take out!

I could speak no more.

How could I not understand? All week he had work. With his new boss around he had to compel with all that is required. He already told me beforehand of his lack of preparation for this event and he is just naturally, the not-so-sweet guy. But of course, dialing a dainty restaurant for a reservation wouldn’t take much. I felt guilty for my unsaid demands.

As if it was meant to be, we went back to the resort’s coffee shop. A waiter led us to a table, with rose petals, crystal goblets and wine glasses. Before the Tiger Prawns were laid down, I was already swarming him with all the hugs and kisses in the world!

Just as it is, Valentine’s day is reserved for me.

Gong Xi Fa Cai!

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

partnership and pockets of wisdom

When we were touring old Manila two weeks ago, we were planning on a trip to either Singapore or Malaysia on the third quarter of the year. I began scouting for promo fares. My travel wiz Rhea is already on standby mode just in case I need the tickets to be booked.

Now, here's comes anxiety attack.

There goes the anxiety of providing for the future family - the children's educational funds, the house mortgage and other contingencies. When he began to speak about it, I know it's goodbye Singapore or Malaysia anniversary honeymoon. LOL!

Do men always go through this stuff? What time of the month does this usually happen, so I can schedule the events before the attack. Tsk, tsk, tsk.

In times like this, there is a story I remember, somewhere from Paulo Coelho's Warrior of the Light (I hope I remembered it right):

A disciple remarked to Rabbi Bounam from Pssiskhe:

“The material world seems to suffocate the spiritual world.”

“Your pants have two pockets,” said Bounam. “Jot down this sentence and put it in the right pocket: ‘The world was created only for me.’ Now write in the left pocket: ‘I am nothing but dust and ashes.”


“Divide your money between the pockets. When you come upon misery and injustice, remember that the world exists only so that you can show your kindness, and use the money in the right pocket.

When you are tempted to buy things that you haven’t the least need for, remember what is written in your left pocket and think twice before spending it. In that way the material world will never suffocate the spiritual world.”

So I say,

“Honey, your pants have two pockets. Jot down this sentence and put it in the right pocket: ‘I will provide for my family’. Now write in the left pocket: ‘We will have a trip...then divide your money between the pockets...”

I also have two pockets and my cash already divided. ;-)

Friday, February 5, 2010

justify the beauty in the beast: the third party goer's replies

Seeking all sides, I have to get into another’s shoes. It may not fit me perfectly, but surely somewhere along we feel the same way, because we all love. This time, here’s from the viewpoint of the third party-goers. Yes, they were not invited, but that does not mean, they have nothing to say. These are the pieces in trilogy:

gonna write a classic
(it was over, but no regrets)

The one ending of an illicit affair that everybody had been waiting for. a broken heart with an uncertain future. Bitter of everything and everyone – as they rejoice and celebrate my defeat.

It happened to me. It turned out to be the most hideous and promiscuous thing that I have ever done, not to consider the least Catholic. But how can I be somebody else’s mistress?

A perfect question, with no perfect answer. Most think that it could not happen. It must not happen. But it did. And with the consequences of loosing my heart and beginning to be disillusioned by love, I get knocked down.

It is tiring to fight for what is yours. How much more if you fight for what is not yours? Exhausting. The effort wouldn’t take any part…and chances are just a stroke of luck. And there isn’t a lot like that that in the world. If there is a real luck for sale, I wouldn’t ask for wealth or fame. You know exactly what it is.

I have been wrapped by tradition. All my life, living by the dictates of morality and getting by life the ‘normal’ and conventional way. The matters of the heart are the least of my concern…especially when I was brought up learning how to count cash first, than getting in touch with my feelings. it was more of my mind over matters, and it was only late I have discovered that i have such a foolish – very foolish – heart.

Indeed, this one is a classic. For after I weep, there are more to follow. More years thinking about the things that had been and more smiles…for I am still priveleged.

Only the elite can get a chance at love like this.


his wherefore
(he keeps her, she keeps him)

Kept woman. hmnnn…

The idea of such never came to mind until the time I became one. Then, curiosity seeped in. Aside from what is depicted in the movies and read in books, it is always an interesting role to play.

Other’s say that being a mistress is synonymous to prostitution. All the while, I thought so too, but hey, – there is a great distinction. both are for sexual lavishes of the man, but being a kept woman, she has EXCLUSIVITY. The man provides for his mistress in the same way as he provides for his wife. Sometimes, even more.

In the modern times, this is not always the case. She is most likely to have a job and is financially independent from the man. The tightening of morality, has in fact, created a greater desire for a man to have a mistress.

Over history, the nobles kept their women hidden from the public and denied to their legal wife. Mostly, these women with whom they spend borrowed moments with, are the ones where they experience real love. It is with her that he experiences how it is to live life without inhibitions.

Wholeheartedly, I have assumed the role. Gradually embracing the responsibilities, it is an honor every time he stands by my doorstep and enters my turf. From that moment on, he is no one else’s but MINE.


i am the other woman
(her letter to her)

I hate you.

But you hate me more. I cannot blame you for despising even just the mere mention of my name. And i do not dare mention yours, either. Our rage for each other is mutual. Both our pride and envy eats our guts to face the truth that we cannot have him totally for ourselves.

You exhausted all your means to communicate with me. You have even used the foulest language a woman could speak. You speak ill of me to your friends and others who didn’t even know who i am. You introduced me to them as the other woman, and yourself as the rightful owner.

Sadly, I dispute your claim. “Una ka lang niyang nakilala…(He just met you first…)”, but he is still at the liberty to choose who to love and be with. You may be committed with each other, but haven’t you noticed the empty ‘I-love-you’s’? You only hear the things you want to hear and you never heard what he is not saying.

Being the other woman has never been my ambition in life. I am now. The moment that I decided to accept this fate, I can already feel your pain. (Not all mistresses are heartless, my dear.) It is torture. I feel the hurt, yours, his, and mine. That is too much to bear at times, and I resort to the same illusion as you have. I, too, pretend that you don’t exist. But we both exist. And we hate each other for that. We both love him, though – each in our own ways. Whether or not I will get the same fair share of loving, I do not demand. I will be content of whatever he could give, with all honesty. I prefer this, than seeming to have all that is only apparent.

You brag about your victory, of how you toppled my over with humiliation and defamation. Go ahead. You have all the right to do that. I understand because I accept my faults. How about you?

For now, you can claim the public.

I will savor my private glory.


******
reposted from one of my oldest blog, published in September 2007

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

the third party is not a party: no one is invited

“You throw stones, falling in my silence they become flowers.”
-Siddharta Gautama (Buddha)

In the earliest disciplines, men were always chosen to lead the path. Adam was made before Eve, and the apostles of Christ were all male. Boy bands topped the billboard charts first before the ladies decided to get spicy.

This is because men are equipped with logic, reason and the physical attributes to do the job. Not in underestimation of women, it is said that men does a lot of thinking before their decisions are made. I believed so.

the reason rationale
Behind men are two powerful set of reasons to guide them. The “internal reason” which is one’s own subjective and motivational set, like commitments, desires, goals, etc. and the “external reason” which is independent of one’s own subjective motivational set, like opportunity, chance and timing. Most of the time, only one reason prevails, so the conspiracy of both reasons will lead to an apparently valid reason, and valid reasons can sometimes lead to actions that hurt the ones they love.

The cheesy and over reacting me struggles to be as rational as I can. Therefore, I have sought answers from men of different races. First, I asked Agus from our department’s Indonesian team. (In fairness to the men that who answered me, I asked them their opinion and it does not necessarily have to be from a personal experience – even though they have. ;-D)


“Why do men like to have another girlfriend or third party even if they already have a girlfriend?”

The answers were a few, but honestly he said, “Because the girlfriend cannot give as much as the third party can, or maybe the other is more beautiful, gives him more freedom and he is more comfortable with the third party.”

That’s acceptable, so I made a follow up. “Then why not leave your girlfriend completely and go with the other one? Why do some guys hold on to their girlfriend while having another one?”

And pop goes the weasel!

“It’s because he still wants some back up, and is not so sure about the third party.”

Hey, what a Boy Scout! One of the many scouting lessons in developing a man’s character is to be prepared at all times. When driving out of town, there should be a spare tire lodged in the compartment, or when camping out, one should bring an extra canister of water. Does this include having an extra girl when you feel like the other is not performing so well?

Still, if we base this on the rationale of man’s reasoning as stated above, my last statement is not even argumentative. It is a fallacy.

the logic magic
If it does simple reasoning does not work, try logic. This time, it’s more philosophical. Shi Long from Chinese team presented Miss A and Miss B. Ugh, men! It is with you that the excellence of thought was patterned. Giving him the same questionnaire, the replies were scholastic.


“Why not leave A, if you like B more than A?”

“Many reasons, maybe A likes you more than B does.”

Iin my conclusion, if you have them both you have the best of both worlds – the one who loves you and the one you love. With this and Shi Long, I got no less than an agreement.

Quoted from Chuck Palahniuk (Invisible Monsters), “the one you love and the one who loves you are never, ever the same.” Everyone has a different beliefs. Maybe some have seen an invisible monster in the other girl which made the other one an angel. My ground would always be, I can love you and I can be loved by you just the same.

the ego to go
Psychology is not an all knowing science. Yet, it seeks to explain to give the heart a place to rest. In the structural model of the psyche the ego is the reality principle – wherein it seeks to please the id’s drive in realistic ways that will give long term benefits rather than grief.

Ego, since time immemorial has been attached to a man’s character. Whether he may be egoistic or egotistical, it is a point of view wherein the focus is the “I” or self. Contrary to its root word’s definition, the results of being egoistic or egotistical breeds one to look inwardly at all times and will impair the ability to be considerate about others.

In my conversation with Dat from the Vietnam team. One of the possible reasons that lead men to settle on a tree branch for a little while, is the transitory pleasure of the instinct.

“Why not leave the other one?”


“it may be that he still loves his girlfriend. He just wants to have a new feeling, maybe short time.”

I wanted to ask, “How short is short time? And how many short times in a lifetime? And what can be done to prevent these short times?” In defense of his comrades, Dat had some follow up information: “because man is different from woman…sometimes they use another thing…hehe!”

My questions about the short time issue are now having a bit of a resolution. Since it caused a lot of heartbreaks already, better cut off that “another thing” that Dat was talking about. Can? Can!

the party isn’t over ‘til its over
Sometimes, our heart’s skip a beat. When mine made a big leap, it almost fell out from my chest. I knew he was with her. Ignorance is a bliss, but at that moment, I was not blissfully blessed. Perhaps it was intuition, or maybe it is the consciousness that I have put aside for a long time. I thought it was too rusty to work, but it was more than accurate. It was the day the sun died twice – not sooner than after lunch.

The justifications that I got from Agus, Shi Long and Dat, I got all from one man. How can I attack a man armed with reason, logic and ego when I am already hurting? It is self humiliating to lose a battle you didn’t know it even started. All you can do is call out for a cease fire.

and silence.

Forgiveness is the attribute of the strong. It is the weak who are not capable to do so. Love has given me enough strength. Honestly, it is futile for me to sulk in rage and hatred because even if I ran amuck, I will melt with one big hug.

Whether or not the third party is over as of the very time that I am writing this article, I could only care less. With the testimonies of the men around me, I know that their reason for having her is not as priceless as his reason for having me.

She is there for a back up, an outlet and hopefully, for a short time.

I am quite consoled. Are you?

Monday, February 1, 2010

yes, stereotypical


I have lost trust with the Yahoo email system when one of the longest running email accounts that I have got hacked and they cannot do anything to fix it. I gave it another chance by opening another account with safer settings, unfortunately some important messages are not able to go through, for reasons I don’t know. The first time I switched to Gmail, I had all the pleasures, and now, I can not even get to the main page. I need my mails. I has worked wonders for me since the time I overcame the guilt of switching, but why hang on me now? I do not wish to switch again, so please, be good tomorrow.

****

First time I heard the news was from Ram. Then, when I came to work today, Pam, my trainee told me of the bugging news that a certain research was made and that, call center employees contribute to the most number of HIV positive cases in the country, due to their casual sexual activities. A motto was even coined for these people, You want? Let’s go!” My heart cries loud UNFAIR!
I searched online for the hitting topic and found out how some people could be so irresponsible. I may only have practiced campus journalism, but it has taught me the ideals of freedom and the responsibilities that come along with it.

More than half a decade now, I am in the BPO business. It was only six months ago that I left the call center, went into mining industry and now back to BPO – Online gaming and casino. I have gone through those wee hour shifts and those off town team buildings. I had to handle stressful billing disputes as well as internal and external Quality Assurance evaluations. I was trained and have trained others to become like me – a call center employee.
Now, we are under public scrutiny because of the immoral implication that some articles has brought about.
We pay our taxes promptly and honestly and this is what we get. Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Still, I am a proud once-call-center employee. I have just had my PCu last January in preparation for my next exit from PH. I may not be afflicted, but I yes, I am affected.

Click on this link:
http://www.abs-cbnnews.com/lifestyle/01/27/10/hiv-cases-soar-among-filipino-yuppies-call-center-workers

Wednesday, January 27, 2010

i don't love you ain't easy

"You can't force love, I realized. It's there or it isn't. If it's not there, you've got to be able to admit it. If it is there, you've got to do whatever it takes to protect the ones you love."
— Richelle Mead

For many things that I have read about, this is the truest.

I sleep late. When I sleep earlier than 22:00 hrs, the tendency is that, I am awaken by the silence of the wee hours. Reading until my eyes grew really tired has become a habit. It works for me, with the exeption of last night.

Siblings always have this weird connection with each other, I believe. I know that right now, my sister is in battle with her emotions. In our recent chats, she told me that she wanted to get out of her marriage. For so long now, I know she does. She told me that she had fallen out of love for her husband. The problem: two adorable boys.

When we were younger, I have heard mom and dad argue many times. Some of them aren't even arguments at all. They were fights. At one time, I asked mom to leave dad. So cruel for a nine-year old me to say, but as I can see, their relationship is no longer working out. Mom could have taken her chance when she had the opporunity. Yet, the pride of keeping a family no matter what was too much that she would rather live with someone she does not even like anymore.

Social dictates and the kids. Those were always the reasons, when they shouldn't be. Of course no man is an island, but feigning love to keep situations socially acceptable is living a life of imprisonment. What authority do I have to say this? Been trapped and I know exactly how it feels like.

The decision to break free is never easy. Yet, it is how we are supposed to live. Whether or not people will agree with me on this, but once you cannot find love where you are anymore, find it. Break a heart and free yourself.

Monday, January 25, 2010

being boss

What could be worse than a leaking shower, that you have been trying to put up for a few weeks already? The only alibi your landlord could give is the water pressure in the area and the dripping would end when summer comes. Does that mean I have to wait for drought? Others pray for it not to come and I am forced to invoke El NiƱo?!?

And yes, one of the things that can beat the hype of a leaking shower is opening your company email with a goodbye message from a suddenly resigning boss. :-(

Sometimes, bosses do that. Just leave and move on. I remember Ram's boss leaving their company recently. With the company mergers, some positions are redundant, therefore some people were offered to leave their posts (thanks Joy, for the enlightenment on these matters). They know exactly what to do next. Maybe that is why they became bosses.

What I am left now are not problems. Instead, I see them as options. For my own change and development. Soon, I am looking forward to leaving again. Pursuing my dream of stability. Just like the bosses, I too, would know where to go.

Bye, Lih Pin. It was a pleasure working with you.

Tuesday, January 12, 2010

i fear your growing up

When I saw my sister online, I had to tell her the good news. I got my Hotmail account back from the hacker virus, and I will be able to go online on both old and new messenger accounts. She, too, had something to share.

She told me that she witnessed a crime...helplessly. The guy seated beside her was stabbed and was beaten by gansgsters. Must be an ongoing gang war, she said. It was an almost full jeepney waiting for more passengers so it can leave the terminal. With the crowd of passengers anxious to get home, aside from getting pickpocketed, everything seemed safe. Yet, you can never tell.

They young man was seated right next to her and was grabbed by the neck out of the jeep. Half of his body was still left beside my sister when one of gangsters stabbed him with some kind of a "samurai". Really gory, and bad thing is, there were no policemen on the site. Of course, my sister ran to find safety and was not able to look back. She didn't even know what happened to that young man who used to sit so peacefully beside her, perhaps thinking of his future. I told her that someone else, had to take care of that. What you have to be thankful for is that, you were not hurt in any way.

As a mother of two adorable boys, she is now faced with a greater fear. I advised her in conclusion, "Train up your boys to be responsible men and pray hard that no violence in the world will harm them. Protect them by getting them equipped with knowledge, wisdom and most of all, love."

For I will do the same.

Friday, January 8, 2010

wolfella and the broken glass slipper

It was not the first fairy tale that I have ever heard from my dad. As I can remember, the first one was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. Amongst those that he tells at night, the primer would always be "Cinderella." I have always been so fond of her and her stepsisters, and of course, the prince who saw her beautiful despite the soot on her face brought about by sleeping by the furnace. (Her name is Ella, but since her dad died, her wicked stepmother casted her out of all the decent bedrooms in the house to sleep with the cinders to keep the fireplace burning during the cold nights.)

According to Wikipedia, the oldest publication record of Cinderella's tale dates back 1634. Because of its worldwide impact and universal theme, many versions followed. When Cinderella stories made it to the cinemas, I had another favorite. In Ever After, Dougray Scott as the Prince and Drew Barrymore played Cinderella in the 1998 version of Charles Perrault's 1729 story. Yes, they lived so happily ever - but how about after?

As a child, I listen to my dad's stories. It was clear to me that his objective is for me to drift to sleep early so he and mom could have their moments together. What he does not know is that I just close my eyes to get rid of him too. When I hear the door shut, there begins my own fairy tale. I would pick up where dad left off. I become Cinderella. All of those, were of course, normal.

On an afternoon before I gave my new trainee KC's assessment for the course that I have just delivered, I asked, "In fairy tales, why are there always dragons to kill and wicked witches or stepmoms to thwart? Why aren't there scenes where the newly crowned princess gets to beat and whip the whore (black and blue until her eyeballs drop!) who tries to steal the affection of the prince? After all, the princess is no longer "the oppressed"?

Will the fairy godmother intervene? Will the prince stop flirting with the damsels of the court? Will there be another feast after the incident? Will the glass slipper land broken on the prince's face? I always wonder about these things when I was five, but I now that I don't wonder about them anymore, they become more real - - - well, not the dragons and the stepmoms, though. I just wish some fairy godmother will intervene before I take the whip and beat the hell out someone's eyeballs.

Yet, fairy tales must end with an "ever-after". It is with reality that Cinderella has transformed into a big bad wolf.

Monday, January 4, 2010

where is my street?

Gregori Street, Pavia, Iloilo, Philippines. Postal Code 5001.

It is the nearest town to the city proper. It is the cradle of my race, the home of my ancestors. For a long time than I have imagined, I was not able to see the amiable street that I have grown up with. I miss the early morning noise. I miss starting my day having coffee with dad and taking the last sip with Grandpa and Grandma from accross the street. I miss my nephews and nieces wrestling with each other on the dirt. Most of all, the exciting after lunch Mahjong sessions with the golden girls.

When my colleague Evan, missed his home in California, he said that he was delivered straight right to his front door by Google Map. Well, I tried the same. I chose the siesta hour so I could see the golden girls by Grandma's terrace having a great game of "mandaranay". the Google Map's search: Gregori Street, Pavia, Iloilo.

Then, I zoomed it in. I looked all over for my street. It is a long stretch of a national road marked by Tigum Bridge to culminate. I thought I was lost. It's a very samll town and I wouldn't miss it for anything. I was once the town's festival queen and I had to study our local geography to ace the interview portion. (Good thing I got questioned about politics and my view on the unpcoming elections.) zoomed to no avail, for the GPS could only take me as close as 100 meters above.

I can see one of the main streets though, marked Lopez Jaena Street. I know Lopez Jaena, but where is my street? I cannot find it. Lopez Jaena was written on behalf of Gregori Street. I do not know if other else are missing, I was not able to check. Finally, I was able to mark my home, and decided to write to Google.

A map is not supposed to miss such a lovely street filled with good old memories. I want it marked as it is. I want it shown - to the world.