Ayala Morn

the metro strip

Just a few meters away from our building, I passed by a vendor being dragged by a police (was it really a police, I'm not so sure, but he's in uniform, therefore, I concluded). I feel for the man being dragged by that person in authority. There is a wanting in me to intrude - make a scene upon the scene and give the man in uniform a sermon on brutality against human rights. Thinking about the elevator traffic, I went my way, making the happening fade away from my peripheral vision...just like the others. 

This is the metro. It knows no awe. Everything is mechanical and the moment you get off to step on its streets, you have morphed into a money-making, tax paying numb. Anyway, its only morning and who knows, I'll be seeing a better sight as the day blooms. Perhaps this is why time does not stand still: to give hope every second.

Indeed, the chicken tapa, corned beef palengke (as Pam calls it, remarking: "HMP! Di man lang Purefoods!) and mini mangoes was a glimpse of hope. I needed to eat. To take my attention off the 'crimson' corned beef, I paid attention to the DJ's on the radio. OMG, they speak so American English! They are talking to each other in jargons. To me they almost speak Chinese for I, who have AmSpeak training could not even understand. Hey, you have an audience, idiots!!! 

After a long time, I got the gist of their conversation, that somewhere in the US (sa US pa ha? How can anybody believe this?), sexual positions other than 'missionary' is illegal. Hello? Masarap ang bawal. I used to believe so but such crap, brought me nowhere. With other explorative positions, I definitely got lost. First, lost my clothes, then lost my sanity...not nowhere, but somewhere. Damn, I wanna go home. NOW. D-uh, with the kids listening, how can such conversation be aired at such an early time slot?! Where's the 'effin censorship board? As a parent, I need to be more vigilant. 

*****

Terima kasih for the Martabak that Ira brought from Jakarta. Sweet pancake pudding stuffed with choco syrup, cheese, sesame and nuts. Its awesomely delectable! Something good to wrap up the events of the not-so-wrapping morning on Ayala Avenue. This is just one of the mornings and there are much mornings to go through on this metro strip.

Three days to go. So is it missionary? However, wherever...whatever! ^_^

looks for free

Lucky Me.

"Our eyelashes brushed like they would weave together by themselves, turning us into one wild thing…"

Kahamot sang lakaki sa jeep. 

I smell Polo Explorer®. After all, I feel so human again. The urge to stare could not be spared. His hair spiked up and waxed. His face, pwede na – strong and shaven. His long sleeves, neatly pressed and for sure, starched. His pants, de liston and his shoes, well cleaned and shined*, though not new. Awww... Makes me want to lay my head on his shoulder while cruising Ayala Avenue on an early morning traffic. This all happened at first glance.

Upon the second look, His hair made me miss Ram’s fine strands with its brownish color looking even lighter without the wax. The stranger's face made me long to see the gentle features that keeps me charmed, and drives me freaking mad. While the neatly pressed long sleeves makes me want to spend my whole life ironing and starching his work clothes, the lined pants makes me want to remodel all of his pants to fit everytime it doesn't. He comes on too strong especially when unshaven. And of course the well polished shoes make me want to be his exclusive shoe shine girl - in lingerie.

There was no appeal of a third-time look anymore. I was then, too busy daydreaming.

Me and Dila on our way home after work.

This made me recall my friend Dila. In her culture, choosing the man to be with and to have kids with is not a matter of choice but more of a tradition. According to her parents, should she be back to Cambodia and agree with the terms, she is to marry a man from their village. Whoa! One cannot enjoy the pleasure of a first glance, take a second look and think about it and make a choice on staring at him again or not anymore. The moment you meet, you are damned! Good thing, my friend was able to talk her parents out of it, that she will be given more time since there is no rush, and that, she still enjoys working. That's it, somlahj!

Indeed, how lucky I am to enjoy the freedom to stare and appreciate (...and smell a bit) the bounty of nature. When loving someone, there is no need for a third look because you decide. 

And yes, I am always busy daydreaming. 

*********************

shined* - I was anxious and torn upon using this form of past tense and tried to use 'shone' instead. For reassurance, I delved into the Big Grammar Book and learned that 'shine' is one of the verbs which has an irregular past tense. Shined is used when it takes a personal subject and object...Uh well, I just need the verb to end with -ed. ^_^

imminence of death, loss or injury

JEOPARDY, as defined is an exposure to or imminence of death, loss or injury. It was derived from Middle English, Anglo-French term ‘jeuparti’ which literally means divided. Synonymous to it would be distress, endangerment, peril, trouble.

Antonyms: preservation, salvation, defense, protection.

Double Jeopardy, 1999

Since time immemorial, studying vocabulary had become one of my challenging habits. When I was starting out, I had the notion that synonyms are the good side of the word and antonyms are the bad ones. In most words, there are more synonyms than antonyms. I liked noting the synonyms better. Just so-so with the opposites.

Having the online Thesaurus can make me define the terms easily. Can this definition, though, keep us preserved and protected when faced with jeopardy? I cannot rely on either the dictionary or thesaurus this time.

It ain’t easy battling with one’s doubts and pride. Even FOREX trading has become easy with my daily undertakings. So does computing the odds for a Mix parlay on Sports betting. The next thing that I want to get used to is speaking conversational Mandarin, not just the “bad words” (as again, credited to Shi Liu ;-) F-i-s-h!) The lurking threats has suddenly driven me madder than ever.

Seriously, I feel like my turf is faced with double jeopardy. One enemy already around, soon the other enemy will be around.

L***e! Isa-isa lang, para patas at hindi ako mahinang kalaban.

I will kill for the antonyms: preservation, salvation, defense, protection – as murder isn’t always a crime.

Of Indochina and Household Chores In Bloomers

The marching band.

I have always coveted to be a majorette. Not even a baton leader, but just to be a majorette. I want to wear bloomer shorts under those semi-tutu skirts, dance on the streets with the rhythm played by the little drummer boys. And those high-heeled boots…oh, those high heeled boots!!!

In high school, I have successfully convinced my parents to take me out of the convent and to get me into the public school where the rest of my cousins were - of course, with the ulterior motive to get into the marching band. In the same year, the band was…disbanded! Along with it was my shattered dream of those cute bloomer shorts.

I have to set aside this dream, to make a way for more dreams. Some other dreams whose rhythm plays only in my heart.

Proposed entry: Ho Chi Minh; Proposed Exit: Bangkok

When I received an invitation for WD funded research, hopefully to happen within the second to the last quarter of the year, my heart is exalted. I hope to cross four countries on a backpack. For sure, it is not going to be like the other travels where I base myself in the capital and enjoy the city. It will be more of the countryside, landmines and crossing borders on a bus, hopefully not at gunpoint. I hope that the cease fire between Thailand in Cambodia is now on by that time as the conflict over Preah Vihea is still under negotiation.  I see myself doing an interview with the Cambodian army as well as crossing paths with the Vietnamese soldiers. It will be a great challenge, but an opportunity for me to do the things I love. Who knows, it might get me a Pulitzer or a Nobel?!? Whoah!  Just being ambitious.

I still have the time to think. As I did some, here comes another one of my dreams. To be make my home a source of love, comfort and happiness for my family: to make sure that the kids have their snacks and their homework done when they go to school; to make sure that Ram’s got a hanky in his pocket when he’s at work; and when they come home at the end of the day, I have to make sure that my arms are waiting to give them the tightest embrace.

Before I take upon the destiny of the household chores that I would gladly surrender to, I will have some great experiences to tell my kids. Stories of the goodness of life and strange, beautiful dreams that drive every man, as they too, will begin to take off on their dreams. Wouldn’t it be great to tell them about the Saigon river over a delicious jelly afternoon snack while Daddy’making the dinner steak marinade? (Totyal daw sa mga ‘kano lang bah! Steak a.k.a. sinugba! Hihi.)  Yes indeed, it would be great fun.

I am keeping my fingers crossed that my Indochina research it will come true. I will get a confirmation in six weeks as my entry portfolio is being reviewed. I pray that the Lord will grant me all the desires of my heart. 

For so long, I have whined and fretted. Recently in an experiential conversation with Ram, I have mentioned, “Being a majorette has been my dream. Wala gid ko ya kaagi majorette. Mayo ka pa naka drummer boy!” Quickly he said, “Honey, para lang na ya sa mga gwapa!”

We both laughed, but I had second thoughts wanting to cry kay hambal ya para lang na sa mga gwapa…but then again, I analyzed ‘para lang na sa mga gwapa’.

Therefore, to him, GWAPA-GWAPA GID KO YA!!! ***Bleh!!!

With this, another of my dream is waiting to happen again. To lie in his arms with no bloomers on -  and in three years time, we will be buying our baby girl her own baton.

Arte, Arte!

"There are painters who transform the sun to a yellow spot, but there are others who, with the help of their art and their intelligence, transform a yellow spot into sun." 

— Pablo Picasso

KL to MNL, June 2010: Stolen Wings

Poetry. Painting. Photography.

Three of the things in literature that I love most. My dad used to kid me, “You are so fond of the things that apparently stops your world from turning. Rid it, or else you are not going to live long.” Maybe so.

An artful life ain’t easy. My masterpieces will always have to deal with the critics and the cynics. I get through it, but beat. Scarred, even. Yet, that does not stop me from doing the things that could extend time and could keep the moment forever. I always imagine my life on the brink and there is always a great way to spend it before falling into the abyss.

Yes, I spread myself too thin with my inclination to writing. Again, I risk being obscured. I might tear as I get past the curves but my life is not for others to question. They will, they can but I will never let them live it for me. I will not dwell in my mistakes for I can do better than I did - much better than they did. My mistakes, though they put me in the limelight of public scrutiny, will not make me less.

My world does not stop turning just because I wrote about it, translated it onto a blank canvass or clicked the shutter. It goes on as it must. The advantage is that I can relive the moment when times get rough. It will remind me that I made it through those days. A lifetime is too short to live just one day in a day. If I could live two days in one, why not?

When the time comes that my life is without me, it will still be full of me. The people I love can continue to read the poetry and prose that I have written – should they miss me. They will relive the moments with me. My children (children-in plural form; I intend to have more) will love to share with their friends photos from their childhood - that I have taken. And they, too, can believe that the life can be kept still.

Poetry. Painting. Photography.

Many times, I have stood on a line between giving up and seeing how much I could take. Then I realized, that with the amount of passion I have, the public and forever won’t be enough to test my limit.

Holy 411

When all else fails, I hold on to my faith and talk to the Lord. Alongside my prayers are questions and simple requests that I know He would grant. 

And I said, “Lord, I am in no ambition of the riches of the world for I know You will provide sufficiently for me and my family, as You always did. Though that does not make me a totally good girl, I am worthy to love. That is the reason you breathed life into me and now, I seem to be dislodged from that purpose. I want to function well as your instrument of love and peace.  Can I have some information please?”

In between sips of my morning coffee, he gave me what I needed to know. Just like that.

He said, “Now what? I also need to know what you are going to do now that you have what you need.”

Humirit pa ulit ako. “May I have more time?”

“You can take all the time you need, but remember, this granted request has a purpose. You have to take action or it will be again, buried beneath those pain. I made you sensible enough to surrender into numbness and dumbness,” He bargained.

Then, I heard my son giggle at his discovery of the sunlight from the window. I was given the gift of life to keep. I have to be always certain that I am there in moments like this. He will discover more sunrises  and sunsets, and the in-betweens. Soon, we will be arguing about the difference between Mongol pencil No.1 and No.2. He will go to field trips and jamborees. I am beginning to anticipate the time he would tell me, “Mommy, I’m in love.”

I have to make sure that he knows he is worthy to love and be loved – that I did not give him up for some fleeting feelings of attraction, and that no one else can stand in between the dreams we have built and the beautiful life that we are about to live.

Saying my prayers of gratitude for all the kindness of the Lord and His love, I had to leave my babe and keep the faith that at the end of the day: I will make it through tomorrow.

tumblr Sunday!

Don't Derek Morgan and I look great together on a page?

My Monday is everybody’s Friday. When all the world is at rest, here I am busting my ass explaining financial terms! I wish I could spend half of this day in the salon for a hair trim and a beautiful manicure, plus, I need to find my baby B a real cute hat. I need to get my party dress from the shop and make a report – on a Sunday. Presently not-so-perfect and tense.

Gladly, though, working on a weekend isn’t so toxic. Less traffic, no bosses. I can sneak on blogging and make some posts on my tumblr. How I owe you a lot tumblr.com! Although sometimes you’re too heavy a site for my already jampacked internet connection, you never fail to be there for comfort, expression and a friend to lean on. If only I could treat you for a Caramel Macchiato grande, I would. No doubt, I would. Presently not-so-perfect and less tense.

Still, Sundays are best.

http://rambahfaith.tumblr.com

what about love

=) Just Pop Rockin'! I love HEART!

What About Love - Heart
I've been lonely
I've been waiting for you
I'm pretending and that's all I can do
The love I'm sending
Ain't making it through to your heart
You've been hiding - never letting it show
Always trying to keep it under control
You got it down and you're well
On the way to the top
But there's something that you forgot
What about love
Don't you want someone to care about you
What about love
Don't let it slip away
What about love
I only want to share it with you
You might need it some day
I can't tell you what you're feeling inside
I can't sell you what you don't want to buy
Something's missing and you got to
Look back on your life
You know something here just ain't right
What about love
Don't you want someone to care about you
What about love
Don't let it slip away
What about love
I only want to share it with you
What about love
Don't you want someone to care about you
What about love
Don't let it slip away
What about love
I only want to share it with you

dawnbreak

Its breaking dawn.

Its breaking my heart.

Just like most of the crowd on the way to work, the chill of the early February morning can’t help but help me get forlorn. I wish the little birdie didn’t tell me so. He should’ve kept it all to himself knowing that it would be bothersome, least it would hurt.

Yet, the little birdie is uncanny. He just couldn’t keep himself still, and I’ve got to know.

Tsk. Tsk. Tsk.

Its breaking dawn.

Its breaking my heart.

Now Michael Bolton, you don’t know what its like. You’ll never know what its like. 

Let’s drown together.

http://en.dilandau.eu/download_music/to-love-somebody-michael-bolton-1.html#5

Promises Kept

Nothing False. When I got to the Maybelline stall, I asked for the classic Great Lash mascara hoping they got back on the shelf. To my dismay, it was already totally phased out. In memory of how it came to be, a girl named Mabel was caught by his brother mixing coal dust and Vaseline to put on her lashes to attract the man she loves. The chemist brother took advantage of his lovestruck sister’s homemade lash definer and called it Maybelline Great Lash mascara. I was sad to say goodbye to my bashy eyelash when the saleslady offered me to try one of their newest formulas – Maybelline Volum’ Express The Magnum Mascara. Due to rush I did not do the usual testing. When I put it on, what can I say? As promised, I got the great volume that I desire. Not much with the length, though. Anyway, my lashes are naturally long. Looks false without the false.

Switched for Cover. Since time immemorial, these freckles are nothing but an ache to my sight! We got it from our Dad’s side. Fair and freckled. I can’t get rid of them or hide them, so I’ve got to lighten them. I had to jump from one base foundation to another until six years ago, I found my skin found domesticity with VMV. I didn’t mind the sticky nature for as long as it can have me covered. Lately, my beauty consultant gave me a sampler of the Mary Kay Liquid Foundation in Full Coverage. All the lightening and base foundation that I need, without the sticky feel. It does not only only become a second skin – it becomes a part of my skin!

Underdog Under My Arms. I was planning to have my underarms undergo Mosbeau whitening treatment for it darkened due to pregnancy. This was actually one of the first signs that I have conceived, but after childbirth,  it’s the first one that I want whitened. Mosbeau is quite expensive and there I was standing torn between getting rid of the dark and another can of infant formula. And I remembered Yoko. Not John Lennon’s Yoko, but the underarm whitening cream that my Thai friend mentioned. It may not be so popular, but I might as well give it a try. In a week’s time, there was more progress than expected.  

Cocoa, Shea and Me. Not until the seventh month of my pregnancy did I have any stretch marks. As I got into my last trimester, there they were…giggling on my stomach skin. When the baby was out, my skin looked not less than a crumpled paper with all those stretch marks. Do you think saying goodbye to my two-piece bikinis forever is easy? I still dream of a photoshoot under the sun with the sand and the sea! Palmer’s Cocoa Butter Formula Massage Cream for Stretch Marks is doing a great job. It has already flattened and smoothened the crumps and now, all I have to wait for is its lightening. The mark of motherhood may be there to stay, but I will not let it get in the way for my two-piece bikinis!