I did it again!

There I was again, last Sunday afternoon, trying to be a stalker. I just had to polish my stalking skills. I convinced the hubby to go back to Georgetown, to take a walk down N Street in DC to see the houses Jackie O used to live. You see, I was a failure on my first attempt.

So last Sunday, we finally got to see the houses at 3307, 3038 and 3017 N Street, in our own Georgetown Walking Tour.

Armed with my own camera (borrowed for the day from the hubby), I was filled with excitement. I squealed like a schoolgirl when we got to the first house (3307). We found several older tourists also taking pictures of the house ;) I was a bit self-conscious. But I must say, to be there at that old house which was their home before they moved into the White House. After looking through all that black and white photos of JFK, Jackie and Caroline in books, looking into the real thing was really one-of-a-kind. I was truly in my die-hard fan mode.

Here’s an excerpt:
3307 N St. NW - Then-Sen. John F. Kennedy lived here when
he was elected president of the United States in November
1960. Perhaps the most famous and photographed of the
Kennedy Georgetown homes, the red- and rose-colored Federal-
style home cost JFK just under $100,000 when he bought it in
1957 while Jacqueline gave birth to daughter Caroline. It was
on the doorstep of this house, built in 1812, that Mr. Kennedy
announced the appointment of his Cabinet, including his brother
Robert as attorney general. "I think I'll open the front door of
the Georgetown house some morning about 2 a.m.," JFK said to
then-Newsweek reporter Ben Bradlee, "look up and down the
street, and if there's no one there, I'll whisper, `It's Bobby.'
" When the two finally did step out on the porch, JFK warned,
"Don't smile too much, or they'll think we are happy about the
appointment." Mr. Kennedy sold the house soon after the
inauguration.

Further on the same street, we found the Harriman House. Here’s a little piece of history:
3038 N Street -Across the street from the Beall Mansion is
the Riggs-Riley House. This is considered to be an outstand-
ing example of a small, balanced Federal house. It was built
in 1816 and owned by the family that founded the Riggs Nat-
ional Bank. In recent years, it has belonged to the family of
statesman W. Averil Harriman.

This was Jackie Kennedy’s temporary home right after she left the White House, after the assassination of JFK in 1963.

Then further on, we found the house Jackie bought after moving out from the Harriman House- 3017 N St, a 3-story, 18th century home on an ivy-covered hill. They lived there for a year, before they moved to an apartment in 1040 5th Ave, New York. It is a lovely house, thickly shaded by magnolia trees. Stories had been told that mobs of tourists used to haunt the streets just to get a glimpse of Jackie and her kids.

All in all, it was one happy excursion. How fanatic can I get?

Please click HERE to see some snapshots of JFK & JBK homes.

To complete our jaunt that day, we stumbled upon the Turkish Festival in full swing in Pennsylvania St, between 13th & 14th Sts. The smell of the Turkish food and the unequivocal sound of Turkish music emanated through the sunshiny yet a bit nippy DC afternoon. We watched Turkish dancers gaily swayed and whirled away on a make-shift stage. From time to time, there were two precocious toddlers hopping up the stage and unabashedly displayed their shimmies, with matching pint-sized beaded & coined hip scarves. Such sweet souls.

It was another hit weekend for us. Monday was a holiday, so we gladly roosted at home. After each perfectly lazy long weekend, it’s always a pain to finally go back to work. But it’s only gonna be four days before yet another weekend will come sauntering about.

¡Vivas!

recipe in a dash

*rice noodles and tuna*

1 small can flaked tuna in oil
rice noodles (around ½ cup when blanched)
chopped onions
2 cups thinly chopped Chinese cabbage
garlic powder
1 tbsp. soy sauce
sesame oil
dash of ground black pepper
dash of seasoned salt

1. Pour off excess oil from tuna can, leave a little amount just so the tuna is not dry
2. Sauté with chopped onions in a small pan.
3. Set aside.
4. Blanch rice noodles with hot water for around 4-5 minutes, or until tender but not soggy.
5. In a medium sized pan, sauté onions and chopped Chinese cabbage in vegetable oil.
6. Season with garlic powder, black pepper and soy sauce.
7. Add rice noodles, stir fry for 3 minutes, or until cooked. Remember not to overcook it becomes soggy.
8. Add a few drops of sesame oil.
9. Place noodles in a dish, then top with the sautéed tuna.

best advice

The best advice that I ever received was: Do not care anymore what other people say. You are embarking into a new life, and that’s the only thing you should be concerned about.

What made it the best of all the advices I’ve had (sought or otherwise), is that it has worked perfectly for me. I am inclined to believe it was tailor-made for me.

Back when I was in my teens, I cared what others had to say. I was easily affected by other people’s kibitzing. But I guess that comes with age. Now that I am older, I knew better. One of the finer points of getting older (not necessarily becoming an old fogey) is that you tend to be mellower, less agitated. You tend to respond, rather than react.

Which is why I am not horrified anymore to get older. Because a sense of calmness flourishes over you, it wraps you up with a greater perceptiveness on things. I guess now I know what they mean by coming to terms with oneself.

When you’ve grown older, and much wiser, you be willing to take care of yourself more and trust yourself more, and love yourself more. And you refrain from punishing yourself, and show courtesy to what’s truly best for yourself.

gone cold Saturday

It was, distressingly, a cold, cold Saturday. It’s unfair because I am not prepared for the nippy days yet. But who am I kidding? I can’t tarry the cold weather, and that’s the truth. Anyway, it had been an eventful, happy weekend for me and hubby. It started with phở and ended with beef sinigang.

Last Friday after work, me and hubby double-dated with our friends, Darko and Janet at our favorite phở place. Such a modest and kooky place to choose for a Friday night double-date, no?! Then Friday night at home, since I didn’t have to fix dinner anymore, I found time to bake some chocolate brownie. My hubby loved it, I loved it, too! :)

On Saturday, we volunteered at the Taste of Falls Church. It’s some kind of a food fair, with some Falls Church restaurants and cafés participating. We manned the ticket booth from 1:00 – 3:00pm. It was fun, so much better that I expected. It was a pretty easy task- explain to people how the 1-ticket-per-taste works, take their ticket purchase, give the change, charge to their credit (if they’re using their cards), that sort of thing. A ticket costs $3 (you pay just $25 if you get 10) and you can use one ticket if you want a taste of any restaurant sample dish.

It was really cold that day! I had my jacket on but it was truly chilly for an early Fall weather. It was a dog-friendly event so lots of nice dogs with their owners were wandering about. My favorite was the beagle-like doggy which had the most unusual bark of all. People were really amazed by his strangely cute “woooo… woooo…woooo….” instead of the costumary arf, arf, arf! So adorable…

Saturday night, we were guests at casa de Lazics for shisha-smoking session again. Darko ordered pizza and I brought some of my brownie, too. Apple-flavored shisha goes well with red wine, (that’s what I think). When we got home that night, hubby said he’s kind of tired of smoking shisha. Kind of he ran out of steam with the whole shisha furor.

Too pooped out, I woke up really late on Sunday. Glad we were able to catch the 12:30 Mass. After that, we made a quick trip to the Library and picked up more books. We planned to play tennis late in the afternoon. However, just when we were leaving the building, black clouds loomed and it started to drizzle. So we dropped the tennis thing, and instead, decided to go to this shopping club thingy, which was a huge, huge, HUGE mistake.

After our purchases, we were horrified to see the total amount. Way, waaaay over the amount we were supposed to spend. We felt we were robbed. If anyone could see our faces that time, we looked as if we were punched in the stomach and swallowed push pins at the same time. Vital lesson for the day? Never, never, NEVER go saying on a rainy day- oh we’ll just drop by BJ’s and pick a few things. Because truth is, you can never ever pick up just a few things. Chances are, you’ll end up with a pyramid of stuffs which you’re gonna regret and grow tired of in the next six months. Last night, in an effort to rationalize our impulsive buys that afternoon, hubby and I resolved that kind of spending is just not for us. Maybe when time comes when we need crates upon crates of tissues, Campbell soups, cheeses and jellies to feed a little league baseball team. But not now.

So there goes one happy, frightful weekend. I made beef sinigang for dinner, we watched TV and hit our noses on the books. Hubby is reading The Wal-Mart Effect. As much as we can, we would like to remember that cold Saturday afternoon at the ticket booth, and not that mortifying spending spree.

most memorable stories and characters

Late this afternoon, on a quick deliberate break from whatever I was doing, it came across my mind sheaf of stories and characters which had a passionate impact on me- emotional, comic, historical, poignant, in the past and over the years. I wanna share a few of most unforgettable, remarkable stories and characters I’ve encountered, though not personally, but emotionally.

The Scarlet Ibis. "The Scarlet Ibis" is a short story written by novelist James Hurst. It was first published in The Atlantic Monthly in July 1960. I guess you have to read the story for yourself, to experience what I believe is the true grit, pride and glory of the human spirit. It’s emotional, nothing fancy. Not the buckets of tears stuff, though. It cuts through your heart.

Tintin & Snowy. My favorite reporter and his fox terrier, and “world travelers”. This comic book duo piqued my interest in history and geography. Lots of insanely funny characters which will perpetually amuse anybody. Click here to meet the Tintin and Adventures coterie.

If Tomorrow Comes. A 1985 novel of Sidney Sheldon. The main character, Tracy- strong, resilient, cunning, was my personal hero, (I guess). Not that I wanna be a con-artist :) But the character was so clever and definitely NOT the 'helpless' kind. This story got me hooked to more Sheldon novels.

Veronica Lodge. Ronnie and her Archie-kins, Betty, Jughead and the whole gang are funny, funny, funny. These are the staple read of my pubescent years! These are classic characters. I will always cherish those Archie years.Veronica, sometimes good-hearted, sometimes spoiled and vain, and always lovable.

Steel Magnolias. I looove, looove, looove this movie. It's endearing, honest and liberating. This will always be one of my favorite movies of all time.

Love. The version of this song that I heard is by Kenny Loggins. And I used to listen to it before I go to sleep many, many years ago. I guess the original version was sung by the Beatles. I just find the words empowering, unbinding. Yet it's so simple.
Love is real,
real is love
Love is feeling,
feeling love
Love is wanting to be loved.
Love is touch,
touch is love
Love is reaching,
reaching love
Love is asking to be loved
Love is you
You and me
Love is knowing
You can be
Love is free,
free is love
Love is living,
living love
Love is needing to be loved.
Love is wanting
To be free
Love is knowing
You will be.

James Lovell. Jim Lovell, on the Apollo 11 article on the National Geographic. It was so fascinating and I read that article over and over and over again. He was played by Tom Hanks on the movie Apollo 13. But the first time I read about him was about the Apollo 11, and I think he's remarkable.

JFK, JBK, JFK Jr. I had been constantly asked about my fascination with them. And I don't know how to explain it. It's just that they're very interesting. Remarkable accomplishments? Maybe not the noble and saintly kinds like that of Mother Theresa's or Gandhi's. But I guess they have strong personalities, they are different, and they have flaws which make them a lot human. And I believe they weren't swayed by any opinions and they never gave it to common precepts of the people about them, which I believe is a remarkable spirit.

remarkable. My favorite, gilt-edged word for today. :)

....And of course, Cosette and Dexter. Cosette, from Les Misérables and Dexter, the stumpy carrot-top on Dexter's Laboratory, are my favorite little girl and little boy. They're adorable. Enough said. I love them heaps. The girl makes me cry, and the boy makes me laugh. They make life so much brighter.

here's my 'worst' list

worst color for a shoe: neon green
worst food taste ever: condensed-milk sweet spaghetti sauce
worst situation to be in: finding out you have no cash to pay the cab
worst hair smell: geriatric pomade smell
worst TV show: VH1’s Flavor of Love
worst dress mishap: finding out your dress is see-through and there’s no slip to be found
worst travel companion: one who has no inkling about the history of the place and is only after shopping
worst conversation: with someone who’s too slow and dense to get any of your point
worst remark a girl can get: you got fat!/you’re too thin!
worst gift: comb-and-face towel set
worst habit: worshiping oneself
worst 2pm activity: being stuck in a long, tiring (boring) meeting and you feel like sneezing
worst flower a girl can get: fake felt roses
worst ice cream flavor: obviously fake macapuno flavor
worst picture: quintessential Pinoy wedding photo where the groom trying to shove a piece of cake to a wide open-mouthed bride
worst fruit: tisa
worst vegetable: saluyot (jute leaves)
worst movie, so far: Date Movie
worst smell in an office lunchroom: stinky fish in the microwave
worst bridesmaid dress: drab, old rose princess-cut cocktail dress, with high neckline and pouf sleeve, with matching plastic flowers on your hair

What's your list of "worsts"? :)

poor sick souls

The past five days were dreadful for us. On Wednesday, the hubby got sick. He might have caught strep throat. Our remedy was Tylenol, lozenges and chamomile tea- lots of it. And like an old grandmother, I fed him porridge. And kept the tea flowing. Poor baby. Once he asked if he could have orange juice, I said no. And once, it’s so funny, because I caught him with a snowball in hand. I was aghast, I ordered him to get rid of it pronto. The dessicated coconut-marshmallow-chocolate-covered thingamabob was off-limits, definitely.

I kept him company, he was in bed most of the time. And at moments when he’s feeling a little better, sat with him on the sofa while he watched TV or trying to ‘work from home’. Friday night, we had Chinese takeout dinner- schezuan shrimp, roast beef lo mein, lemon chicken, wonton soup. A feast for the poor, sick soul.

By Friday night, hubby was feeling better, however, I started getting sick myself. My throat started to feel scratchy, it was difficult to swallow, and was temples were throbbing. I guess hubby passed the virus on to me.

So that’s how we spent the first day of Fall- holed up at home getting sickie. Poor us. Instead of gallivanting under the glorious Fall weekend weather, there we were coughing and sneezing, and nursing our headaches. In between, I managed to finish yet another book about JBK. At times we turn the TV off, and we walk barefoot around the quiet house. Sometimes, it’s actually comforting be in that muted environment. When all we can hear is each other’s breathing. (In our case, coughing and puffing included).

Sunday, we heard Mass albeit my agonizing headache. It was no help that lots of kids were crawling around shrieking, stomping, running around. We decided to have Phở for lunch to tend to our congested sinuses and itchy throats. But it was bad Phở that we got. Hubby vowed never to come back to that restaurant.

It was a quiet Sunday afternoon and Sunday night for us. We slept late, as usual. And this morning, we felt somewhat better and went back to work. When we stepped out, it was cold. Not freezing cold, but chilly. It felt like we missed the seasons. It’s Fall, all right. We can certainly hope it’s just a change of the season thingy. And we’ll bounce back and be meanderers, once again. Hello, Fall!

stalker for the day

Off we went to DC last Saturday afternoon to engage in some last summer weekend whirl. I wanted to be a stalker that day. I wanted to stalk Jackie O.

I wanted to find her place in Georgetown, the house where she stayed in after she left the White House. She resided in two houses after she moved out of the White House- first, in a house lent to her by their family friend, and second, a place of her own. I had also wanted to see the house they lived in after they got married and while JFK was still a senator. All their homes were in Georgetown.

I was so excited to be a tourist du jour. Never mind l (surely) looked like a gaudy fan. It will all be in the spirit of fun (and wonderment). However, I did not do my homework. I was too confident I memorized all three different house numbers, and I insisted I knew which is which. However, by the time we got to N Street the numbers were all mixed up.

The narrow, potholed N Street in Georgetown was nevertheless charming, with all the lovely age-old brick townhouses and cobblestone sidewalks. It looked shrouded with all the old trees. It's a lovely part of Georgetown. I gasped when we saw the house with the number I thought was the one. Turned out to be not, because we were parked on the wrong street! And the house across I thought was the one she bought and moved into. We took pictures of the wrong houses!

We walked into the other street (the right one by this time). And again, I got preoccupied with the wrong house across the street, and all the while the house behind us was the right address. No wonder I couldn't believe the gated wrong house appeared so contrastingly from what I gathered. And I peeked less into the right 3-story house where she lived until she moved to NY. What a buffoon of me. If only I had listened to David, he told me to bring the Jackie O book I'm reading then I could double-check the correct house numbers. And he wanted me to have my picture taken in front of the house, holding the book and pointing at the house. I'd die before I'd do that!!!

Had we walked a few more houses up the street, then we'd be staring at the Harriman house, where she moved into right after moving out at the White House. Then had we walked .3 miles further up the street, we'd be at their first Georgetown house. Oh well, I guess I'd have to polish more my stalking skills. Lesson learned? Jot down house numbers just in case I forget. I still want to go back there and see, and perhaps linger more (I hope no one notices this huge unabashed Jackie O fan).

Before our stalking trip, we visited the National Geographic Society to look at the photo exhibit by Reza. http://www.flickr.com/photos/dng There was also a photo exhibit about soccer. It was a lovely last summer afternoon. I'm gonna miss summer...

Things that get my goat

There are some things in life which sometimes, for unexplainable reasons, annoy us to the highest heavens. I have (quite) a long list:

1. Fergie singing the dumbest song I ever heard, My Humps (or whatever)
2. people saying they’re gonna show up, and won’t
3. clumsy people stepping on my toes
4. the whole Angelina Jolie-Brad Pitt hoo-ha
5. broken promises
6. Vina Morales (hahaha!)
7. kids trying so hard to act grown up
8. grimy men making lewd catcalls to passing women
9. people who constantly peer at their cellphones while in the movie theater
10. people who blatantly stare
11. Jinggoy Estrada (icky, icky, icky)
12. paper cuts
13. bird-brained, crazed drivers
14. people who cuss too much
15. people who seem to subsist on nothing but tacky, smutty jokes
16. accidentally stepping into a puddle
17. static electricity
18. being stalled in traffic
19. people with better-than-thou attitude
20. Paris Hilton
21. people who make harsh, inconsiderate remarks, and can’t handle it if bestowed with the same harsh, inconsiderate remarks
22. brownouts
23. people who write incoherent messages and expect you to comprehend it
24. bad, unintelligible handwriting
25. people calling in the dead of the night wanting to be phone-pals
26. artistas singing so embarrassingly off key on TV variety shows
27. people getting too close (even if you don’t know them), violating personal space
28. solicitations

…and the list goes on and on. Tell me what your pet peeves are. Inane things which somehow always manage to get our goat :) Let's share our thoughts!

it's a soggy day

It’s a cold, soggy, dreary September day. I hate the rain and I’m going to be stuck with it until, at least, early next week. I’m not yet ready to set aside my strappy sandals. My hubby wondered why I chose not to slip in reliable pair of boots. I guess I’m still in denial. I loved the summer sun and heat so much, the thought of covering up and piling up clothes is, I guess, agonizing.

Fall starts in a week. And it’s not amusing at all that it has been raining and dark and dismal the past few days. I’ve been wearing sweaters and jackets already, but still- my feet are bare (in my sandals still!). Last Monday, a chilly, blustery day, I had my light jacket on, however, much to my hubby’s dismay, I was wearing a mini-skirt. I didn’t care much that my toes turned gray. What a ninny.

Anyway, it has been one awesome summer. We were able to do the things that we wanted to do. We went to a charity polo match, the Peruvian festival, Alexandria's 254th anniversary, and the highlight- a trip to the Outerbanks in North Carolina. Plus of course the little weekend trips and excursions. The one thing we failed to do? Scour flea markets. I wonder why we didn't have time to do it this summer.

One thing I'm gonna miss- long days. I just loved it so much, the thought of darkness at 5pm makes my heart wail. But it's okay, I'm also excited to see the fall foliage. It's lovely and I couldn't get enough of it. I'll get myself ready for the cold season. It won't be that bad. Maybe more exciting things will happen, and it will brighten up the long shivery months ahead...

anecdotes, memories and celebrations

There are a few precious things I feel like celebrating today.

First, it's the one-year anniversary of my caffeine-free by choice existence. Yup, it's been one year since I willfully ended my love affair with coffee. It was a fuss-free breakup ;) No weeping, no mourning, no regrets. And like any other split up- I've grown up after that. No more silly dependency. I was free, and happier. Hurrah for that!

Second, I was in touch again with my elementary school friends- Iva and Hope. Thanks to my bestfriend Roselle who was so savvy in finding them. I was so excited when she told me two nights ago that Hope was online. It was almost ten years since I last saw Hope, and Iva, longer. But we've exchanged emails now and I couldn't be happier to be connected again with these old friends.

Many funny anecdotes and memories roll in. Me, Roselle, Iva and Hope were classmates since grade 2. Our teacher then was Miss Torres, a strict, conservative old maid who decided to let a boy and a girl share a desk, in a futile attempt to shush us all. She got tired of our constant chattering and monkeyshines. But it never worked because soon, our seatmates became our chatter buddies. Our class was a talkative, noisy bunch. We were known of that memorable trait- we prattled and cackled and twittered 'til 6th grade.

Our third grade teacher was Mrs. Barcenilla who preferred to let her pupils write her lessons on the board, and was too obsessed in keeping the red floor waxed and polished at ALL times. Then came 4th grade with Miss Singson, an old maid with a pushy, strong willed attitude to compensate for her whispery voice- she expected her class to have perfect written compositions, perfect recitations, perfect test scores. We were also forever memorizing poems and practicing dramatic dialogues to present in our frequent class programs. But she also let us do things that we love to do- cut colored papers and make colorful arts projects which she proudly displayed in one corner, plant seeds in a mini-garden, write and exchange letters with our classmates, write and act in little plays, read books to each other. She encouraged us all to be creative, and by far, she was my favorite elementary school teacher.

Our 5th grade teacher (whose name escapes me at this moment) liked to start the day chastising us all for failing to keep the classroom, (in her favorite words), spic and span. And she liked to add her other favorite words- "it's very shameful!" We were her last class, she retired after that school-year so she must remember us all, the class who can't keep the room spic-and-span. Our 6th grade teacher, Mrs. Pedregosa, just spent 3-4 months with us. The rest of the school-year, she was on leave. We heard that she had enough of our boisterousness ;)

Meeting Iva and Hope again makes me think about how young we were then, so carefree, so happy, so hopeful and eager to grow up. Now we're in a different stage of our life, and yet those memories and delightful anecdotes still soar. And the opportunity to relish those cherished memories is one reason to celebrate.

Another thing to celebrate is books. It's a little thing, but I wanna drink to that. It's been a long time since I found time to read again. It feels good to be able to get myself lost in words, engross myself in stories and just flip over the comfort of reading. One of the things I could never live without or give up, it's reading.

I love to celebrate these little things in my own special way. There's no use keeping tab of mishaps, gripes and misfortunes in this world. Friends, good relationships, love, simple pleasures, hobbies, husbands, new recipes- they're always worth a warm hurrah!

if it's Friday, we're having fun

If I were a shoe,
I’d be a Jimmy Choo glitter karung slide.
If I were a dress,
I’d be a Carolina Herrera frock.
If I were a song,
I’d be Tomorrow.
If I were an ice cream,
I’d be a green tea ice cream.
If I were a scent,
I’d be black raspberry and vanilla.
If I were a breakfast,
I’d be toast with butter, scrambled eggs and a steaming mug of cocoa.
If I were a season,
I’d be Fall.
If I were a junk food,
I’d be pepperoni pizza with garlic-butter sauce.
If I were an herb,
I’d be oregano.
If I were an earring,
I’d be a black Tahitian pearl earring.
If I were a scenery,
I’d be Shenandoah Skyline Drive in late Fall.
If I were a drink,
I’d be a frozen margarita.
If I were an outrageous other name,
I’d be Jassmyn Tamara Antoinette.
If I were a plant,
I’d be a fern.
If I were a daydream,
I’d be a sojourn in a weekend home with an immense flower garden and full library; a penthouse in the city with a spacious living room and a more spacious fully-equipped kitchen; and a 10-4, three-times-a-week-with-a-wickedly-high-paying job.

something's amiss

Suddenly...... it hit me. It's the 6th of September and still, I haven't heard a single Christmas carol in the air yet. Something's amiss in my precious Christmas rituals!

I'm kinda looking forward to hearing my first Christmas carol on the first day of the ber months. Back home, Christmas starts in September. Carols are played on air the instant it's September, and by Christmas eve you're quite immune to the scads of versions of one single Christmas carol. Believe me, Silent Night Holy Night can be enjoyed as original, OPM, rap, chant, chorale, whatever you like. And carols won't fade away until Three Kings'. Now that, IS one truly merry Christmas.

I'm feeling nostalgic. I used to anticipate what carol will I hear first for that season. I remember, the other year it was Give Love on Christmas Day. The year before that it was Pasko Na Sinta Ko (which is always truly, truly a romantic Christmas carol). I love the feeling of hearing those carols. It builds up the excitement for the much-anticipated Christmas season. As the ber months wear on, carols become more and more meaningful, amidst the giant Christmas trees, homes afire with christmas lights, humble and elaborate parols hung side by side, the palpable Pinoy Christmas spirit.

I may not hear my first Christmas carol until after Thanksgiving. Which makes me miss home a bit much. I always think about while it's so quiet and uneventful here, back home the revelry has started - blinking lights wherever you go, colorful lanterns, mountains of ornaments in every shape and sizes, carols blaring until your ears bleed.

It's our third Christmas as married couple. They say, third time's the charm. I hope we could have more fun this year. I wanna have a tree, I wanna hang a wreath on our door (I am not sure how our non-Christian neighbors would react), I wanna have Santa's cardboard face and a Merry Christmas buntings on the walls (maybe not, hahaha)! Last year, we had a quiet Christmas. We attended midnight Mass, and there was nothing special to it. We missed the embellished and more heartfelt Christmas masses at home. The church didn't even have a belen!

I'm still excited to hear my first carol this year. Although, anxiety adds up because it feels like I've already missed a lot of the ber months without the carols. Until then, I could only hope that it's gonna be something special, God forbid, not a boyband version of a classic Christmas carol.........

life is one LARGE pizza

Nothing beats ordering pizza on a night when a million things invade your thoughts and somehow you've run out of ideas what to sauté, scald and scorch next for dinner. So we got this laaarge pizza with laaarger attitude- garnished with Sicilian meats- pepperoni, Italian sausage and spicy salami. As Homer would say: ahhhaahaahh..... pizzzzaaa....!

I guess it's Ernesto causing a slight spiky commotion in the air last night. Uneasiness, a wrinkle of tizzy hang like a snippet of bad spirit. I guess humans, too, feel the raw peril of an incoming storm. We attended our building's open Board meeting, which was idiotically held in the nearby elementary school gymnasium for reasons only the butterball acting like a moronic impatient teenager member of the Board knew. She insisted it was noisy to have the Board meeting in the lobby or the party room. As if the residents come tumbling and crowing each moment down the lobby.

The members of the Board acted so dispassionately, so imperceptively towards each item on their agenda. They couldn't wait to move the motion to be discussed "on the next meeting". Why serve the Board when you cannot commit to dissertate all issues??! In my opinion, it was the height of hypocrisy and idiocy that was displayed last night.

My head felt like bursting. Bursting with ire and dismay. Can I blame it to Ernesto?

The bad air hovered for a while, creeping sorely past midnight. There was always that dull ache that you feel. But a warm back against mine, a hand to hold, a slight murmur from the one I love calms and sends me off to sleep.

Outshining the horrendous rain and wind Ernesto brought are - books to read, pictures of Trevor and Katie to look at, warm blankets, piles of magazines to read, a crossword to puzzle out tonight, and of course- à la Homer Simpson drooling-worthy large pizza.... The nasty storm still can't wipe out smiles and warm hearts. I'm glad.

another recipe from a (mad)housewife

My newest recipe!!!

You need:

beef brisket, cut 1-inch thin slices (around 1 cup)
2 tbsp rice wine
1 tbsp soy sauce
1 tbsp rice vinegar
dash of pepper and garlic powder

half a can diced tomato (garlic and olive oil-seasoned)
½ cup julienned green and orange (or red) bell pepper
chopped onions
1 ½ tbsp soy sauce, mixed with ½ tsp dark brown sugar
1 tbsp chopped ginger

How to make it:

Marinate beef brisket in rice wine, soy sauce, vinegar with dash of pepper and garlic powder for around 30 minutes.

In a small round pan, sauté ginger and onions in 1 tbsp vegetable oil.
Add diced tomato with little of its juices.
Add and press bell peppers on to the mixture, avoid stirring it vigorously.
Add the soy sauce mixture.
Let it cook until juices are seeped up and it starts a light fizz.
Set aside the mixture.
Stir fry the marinated brisket in 1/2 tbsp vegetable oil including the marinade in medium fire for around 5 minutes.
Place the stir-fry brisket in a platter, then top with the tomato/bell pepper mixture.
Enjoy with freshly-cooked white rice.

Yum. Yum. Yum.

life is one HUGE problem

Life is barraged with problems. As others would put it- life is laced with untold challenges. These whole slew of challenges, as we are constantly cajoled, make us stable and sagacious. And after defeating each challenge in life, we grow stronger and shaped up, thus making us personally triumphant.

The two kinds of problems which stir us up the most are: the unexpected and the anticipated. But I think it's all in matter of perspective. Life's problems are handled otherwise in various levels in life. As we grow older, it becomes more complicated. I remember my biggest distress in high school was the missing Beadle notebook. I had been the class beadle all my high school life. And at the end of each grading period (quarter), the beadle notebook was always missing. Therefore making me a nervous wreck- our advisers refused to sign my clearance sheet, coupled with their chastising why I can't seem to keep a watchful eye on the notebook. I suffered too many sleepless nights and upset stomach, plus a guilt-ridden feelings of hopelessness because of it.

Thinking and looking back at it now, I can only think how easy life was when I was younger. My biggest problem that time was incomparable to the real tests in life I have experienced. If only life's challenge was only about beadle notebooks, no? We might just be dancing our way in glee into the garden of Eden. But then again, life is not a marshmallow-showered dream.

When I heard my boss early this afternoon spew out dreadful words - numbers, along with her calculations, percentages, variances and what-nots to me in front of her whiteboard, I knew I had the biggest problem. I feel like falling into a snake pit. One of the things I despise the most- numbers, and I am being shoved right smack into it. I don't know the feeling of literally and physically being kicked into a pile of an unmentionable dirt, but I feel just like that. Now that- is a huge problem.

Life is composed of little and big problems. I have lots of them. Heaps. Oodles. Barrels of obstacles. But I try, oh-God how I try so hard to look the other way.

When I pore over these kinds of difficulty, heartache, dilemma I just think about other problems out there. Because other people have more ghastly, despondent problems than me. And I'm not in cat's pajamas to complain, and I am not egged on to give up. Sometimes, other people have no advantage to make a choice, whereas, I have. I look through things that way.

Life is hard. But life is NOT all about problems. Life is much more- discovery, learning, articulation, experiencing, connection with others, joys, love..... Problems are just like an itch here and there, a bump here and there, or maybe an occasional sprinkle of pain, but never the end, sum and substance of everything.

signs I'm getting old

* i think noisy teenagers are a big abomination
* i start counting sugar and sodium content in every package
* cholesterol and osteoporosis has suddenly become really scary
* i'm not amused by what I see inside Teen Vogue anymore
* i start getting nostalgic when I see movies that I've seen back in college
* the songs and bands I like are sikat way back in 1996
* the last teen-oriented show I've watched on TV was Dawson's Creek
* i don't know what's on Top 40 anymore
* i can live without MTV (I thought I can watch it FOREVER)
* all-day malling is not too appealing anymore
* i start watching what I eat
* driving fast scares the bat out of me
* i thought I could stay up as late as 3 a.m. but- I can't
* i get backaches every now and then

At least, I'm still asked for my ID when I order margarita ;)

here's a funny one:

WHEN I AM AN OLD CAT
I shall wear a diamond collar and leave my footprints on white couches.
I shall drink my cream with a touch of brandy and spit out my vitamins.
I shall sit on the laps of dog people just to irritate them.
I shall nap on top of the neighbor's petunias and perch on top of birdbaths and grow charmingly chubby.
But for now I must tolerate the dog and use my litter box and not sharpen my claws on the sofa, so no one can doubt the truth that cats are superior to dogs.
But every once in a while I wonder if I should be naughty now and then and nip a few toes, so my humans won't be too shocked when suddenly I become an old cat and start to wear a diamond collar.

one last summer fling

We headed for the beach last Saturday. It was a long, kind of uneventful three-hours drive to Ocean City in MD. It was a bright, sunny day and sans Latino people wearing shorts and T-shirt shrieking in the waves, it was a perfect day at the beach- one last summer fling before it gets colder and we start piling up clothes.

Our friend Darko's mother who came from Bosnia, who told us people in their country wear just the bikini bottom or nothing else (young and old alike) on the beach, was still dumbfounded why people bathe in the beach with so much clothing. We told her common folks back home also swim with pants and shirts on (hehehe). Anyway, the part of the beach we were in was particularly unsightly with the fully-clothed gente (I guess somebody heard from somebody that the whole raza was heading to the beach that day), and we saw one big family having a tailgate party at the parking lot complete with beach umbrella pa ha- and they were right next to the beach! I just thought what an idiotic idea it was camping out right beside their car in the sizzling hot parking lot and the beach was five steps away.

Anyway, it was my second time in OC. Last year (the date was Aug.23 I still could remember) Darko's nephew Stefan was still afraid to get his feet on the sand. But this year, he was playing and crawling on the sand. But he is still afraid with the water. Maybe next year, there will be progress ;) I packed ham and egg sandwiches for us, however, Darko's mother insisted we eat their quintessential Bosnian beach outing fare- Bosnian bread as big as David's fist, with chicken pâte, Laughing Cow cheese (hehee), homemade paprika and some kind of meatloaf. The paprika is good I loved it. Back home it would have been sinuglaw and isda, plus saging.

It was so filling that we left our baon untouched. We bought puto from the Filipino store the day before to show it to Janet's parents to make them laugh (because puto is something very bad in Spanish, haha), but they weren't able to come with us. There were carnival rides and games right next to the beach, and David wanted so much to ride the sling shot. However, it was rather expensive ($20 per rider) for just a 5-minute shot up in the air. However, he and Darko rode the roller coaster (it was cheaper, only $3.20 for a 5-minute ride, hahaha). I didn't dare try those rides at all!

The water was a little cold and the waves were mean! They're huge and really strong it knocked me out twice and left me scrambling in the sand like a discarded rag doll. What a sight I must have been. David was laughing at me I was certain I looked daffy. Fortunately no bikini top or bottom were untangled during that shuffle.

On our way home we dropped by a dinner buffet at this Chinese restaurant. They had a huge number of food selection. I heard one diner exclaim to another, they even have pizza! And much to my delight, they had sushi! And it wasn't bad at all! We were laughing at Darko because he complained he felt sick- he ate ice cream after he ate steamed mussels. :) It was good food, however, it was insanely expensive. Lesson we learned that day? Never go to a dinner buffet ever again. Only lunch buffets from now on ;)

Before heading home, they played mini-golf. The air was cool and it was one of those relaxing early evenings. It was actually fun and we had a good time. I could say it was one great outing. And then the next day, as if the strenuous beach trip wasn't enough, we met a friend to play tennis. Well, he "tried" to play tennis with us. I was only chasing after the ball the whole time. We played until it drizzled. What a great day.

The days are getting shorter and it won't be long until it gets nippy. David was so determined to exercise that he bought a pair of tennis rackets so that we can play. He made me promise to get serious into playing. I gave him my promise. We'll play on Sunday afternoons, and if the mood (my mood) permits- on Wednesday afternoon after work, too. It could be fun. We have three or four months to play until it becomes too cold. Our last summer fling! And then we could find another 'sport' to do. Maybe we'll get the scrabble set we've been planning to have, hehee.

barefoot

I tried going barefoot at work this afternoon. I've tried it a couple of times before, and I found it, after an initial outrage, liberating. After traipsing for hours on end in my strappy, high-heeled footwear, I took the inevitable and walk around my turf barefoot. I felt free, heedful, cozy.

To feel the coarse texture of the carpet is surprisingly relaxing. It's massaging my bare feet. And if I allow myself not to be distracted by the fact that a number of shoes are also roving on the same floor, it could be really invigorating. But I also have to remind myself that these floors are vacuumed each night, so it's not really as horrid as going barefoot on the concrete or tiled floors back in 'Pinas. Going barefoot reminded me of my mom bellowing if I try to "forget" slipping back into my slippers when I was a little girl. She would scare me that millions of germs would attack my feet and eat it all up.

And I'm sure mom was not phonying up with me. But I guess there's a kind of freedom that is just so tempting and urgent, like the way I am feeling at this moment. I was aghast when I saw a couple of girls here at work walking around the whole floor barefoot. Now I have discovered how great it is, I won't impugn this offbeat habit.

It's good once in a while, to walk around with little less chains, less encumbrance. It's good to feel the grainy, cold base. It's like letting loose, say what you have to say, do what you have to do. Have that luring moment to step around feeling the ground on your bare soles once, twice, several times! Make it a habit from once in a while to be free, to be connected to the ground we're walking on.

Saturday's "firsts"

Last Saturday was a day of "firsts". It was the first time David woke up ahead of me, and made sausage omelette for brunch. It was almost 11 am and I refused to get up from bed. He said he cooked because I was still sleepy. He's the sweetest, don't you think?

And there was a cool breeze blowing, too, last Saturday for the first time- after weeks of searing heat. It was a little cool for midsummer, truly a welcome respite! And it was also the first time that we visited our local library. After a year in this area and countless promises to go check out the library, we finally did it. The library was a short stroll away from our house - too near to drive, just enough for a casual walk. The day was perfect for an impromptu walk- placid light gusts, bright sunshine, quiet scenery past a park entrance, a doggie park and the most charming townhouses we admire.

At the library I found a book which delighted me so, and I am currently reading it. It's a suspense novel from Mary Higgins Clark. I read three of her novels years ago when I was still in school and there was nothing more pressing to do than bury my nose in a book, and it was such a regret I never had the chance to read more of her books. She is such an efficient story-teller, I should say. Her stories are simple, absorbing and straightforward. Although I would love to read books with abstruse plots from time to time, what I am looking for right now is something uncomplicated, a light read to squeeze in between my all but hectic schedule.

I had promised myself to read more books. The last one I tried to read prior to this one from Mary Higgins Clark, No Place Like Home, was Love in the Time of Cholera. After reading a quarter of the book, I just said to myself I can't continue to read it right now. I have to abandon it, albeit temporarily and save myself from an apparent heartache. However, I vow to finish reading it in the near future. I have to, and I would love to.

Have you any thoughts to share on Love in the Time of Cholera?

I'm halfway through with No Place Like Home and so I asked David to get me another book from the library when he went back there yesterday. I intend to finish the book I am currently reading by Tuesday night, and then the second book by weekend. Sounds like a case of biting off more than I could chew? Let's see.

After the library on Saturday, we went to the mall to look for shoes for David and use up the Gap gift card David had given me last month (an extra birthday present). For the first time- I did not find anything that I like! Unbelievable, right? I've always liked their tops and outerwear, but somehow I didn't find anything that caught my fancy that day. And I don't want to pick something just for the sake of picking something. David used to ask me what do I like? What am I looking for? And I always tell him, I'll know what I like when I see it. I guess me and my dresses are in a constant flair for love at first sight. So much like what happened to my black stretch skirt and garnet shirt I picked out in less than ten minutes the other week.

But we didn't leave empty-handed. David found a nice pair of khakis and a broken-in shirt with a very seductive price. And he bought me a sweater, too, which I won't be able to wear until fall anyway. Talk about thinking ahead :)

my latest Tuesday dread

Every Tuesday afternoon at 2:30, I attend an hour and a half meeting with six other people at work. It's a case disposition meeting, since recently I was asked to join the committee. Ever since, I'm not an outstanding meeting attendee. I must confess, I feel bored and impatient right away. So attending this weekly meeting, aside from three other meetings I need to be at is really tedious for me.

However, I must say such meetings lay bare to you the different facets of individuality. Therefore, such is an avenue to know more other people. Knowing them means recognizing who's the crank, who's nuts and who's a creepo :) Just kiddin'. Meetings can show you who's Type A, who's Type B and who's in between.

My Tuesday troupe, like any other out there, is one typically oddball bunch. There's one boss who wrinkles her forehead, looking askance when somebody speaks. I suppose it's the huh-what-on-earth-is-your-point look. There's one who is perpetually forgetful, and there's the one who monopolizes the discussion. There's the harbinger, and a follower. And one who rarely speaks. I guess it's obvious which oddball is me :)

Right now I don't exactly enjoy these meetings as much as I want to. I guess I still haven't acclimatized graciously to the twists and joys of this inevasible thing called "meeting". Maybe someday I will.

It's good to bring a pad to doodle on while meetings are progressing. However, never ever come unprepared just in case the boss, or somebody from the oddballs throw you a question. Say your piece, and then keep quiet. And look out for brewing tension that may happen (sometimes, just sometimes).

Friendship Day

In celebration of Friendship Day (August 6th), I’d like to make an ode to my best-est girl friends, who were with me through zits, storms, gaps, the best and the worst, and yet remained tight and true all these years…… Hey Roselle, didn’t you write a poem about friendship (specifically about our high school clique) in a workshop you attended one summer before senior year? :)

To my favorite girls, cheers! You make the world a happier place.

Roselle

My best bud for the longest time…. She’s as crazy, as easygoing and as curious as I am. We have the best time together, sharing a desk, inseparable all throughout elementary and high school, sharing the same interests, and having the same idea of “fun”. She never fails to write letters, sends postcards and keeps me updated all the time. Through good times and bad, she’s my best gal.

Lia, Bonna and Farrah

My constant companions and my bestfriends in college. They’re the best bunch. Coffee, tea, McDonald's, malling, never-ending conversations (mostly the same topic blabbed about over and over and over again), Lia's famous baked spaghetti and brownies, laughter, tears, daydreams, spats (minor and all sorts), highs and lows - we've shared them all. They're the people whom I always wanna see on good days, bad days, lazy days, perky days, special days, ordinary days, any days. They're my powerpuff girls :)

Faith, Mei, January, Karen and Fevi

One of the nicest bunch of girls in the whole world! They never 'excluded' the oldies (us) in their clique. They never forget us on their parties and get-togethers, and their kris kringle every Christmas. I love them! They're cheery, nice, sweet, and they're the kind whom you can never ever dislike. They're supportive and never judgmental.

Otette

The most good-humored, good-natured, zappy, zingy girl I know! She's always looking into the bright side of things. And her infectious laugh (and killer dimples) are inspiring. And one great friend, too. Loves her friends, warts and all, no matter what.

Taryn

Jovial. Loyal. Kind. Smart. And very high-principled. And very lovable, too. She's the kind of girl who never digs up the past just to make fun of you. I always think of her as proper, sweet, reliable and beautiful inside out. She has great insights on relationships, too.

Jody

A delightful, talkative and funny girl! She never runs out of stories, funny anecdotes and quips, and she claims she knows ALL artistas old and new. She's a great shopping (and window-shopping) companion, too. On the four years that we've worked together, our office was in constant uproar because of her funny stories, silly antics and endless chattering. We spend 5 minutes eating our lunches so that we can catch up with our talkfest during lunchbreak. She's the nicest friend who always had the most meaningful advices to give.

Mom, and Bub

My great loves back home. My bestfriend, and the brat who never fails to make me smile. Love them heaps.

Happy Friendship Day!!!

wanderlust

Our recent 3-day jaunt in the Outer Banks, North Carolina was wonderful, wonderful, wonderful. It was not exactly the typical tourist summer pursuit - the beach (even though to stay in those pastel-colored, 3-story oceanfront beach homes was to die for), but our main purpose of chosing the Outer Banks was our lighthouse hunt.

The Outer Banks is a tiny stretch of islands on the northeastern coast of North Carolina. It was unconventional, picturesque and historic. Back in time, it was a pirates lair. And there are amazing lighthouses, and the Wright Brothers Memorial is also there. I liked the feel of the islands. It is tiny that past some stretches of highway, it is edged by sand and you can practically see water on both sides. And the whole place was dotted with huge, fantastic-looking beach homes.

Our first stop was the Currituck Beach Lighthouse, up in the northern tip of the Outer Banks. It was made of bricks, and we climbed all 214 steps to the top. We were sweating like pigs and our knees were wobbly by the time we got to the top. But the fantastic views were exceptional. The drive up there was scenic and heartwarming, past little towns with pretty names like Duck, Sanderling, and Southern Shores, and even prettier street names.

The Wright Brothers Memorial was located at the town called Kill Devil Hills. I found the name queer and amusing. According to David, the place was a lair for pirates before, and there on the hills (which were actually sand dunes), they drink moonshine (an illegally distilled whiskey) and apparently it was so strong it could kill the devil. :) What a lovely story, hehe. The Visitors Center cum museum was impressive. We visited the exact site of that fateful first flight on Dec. 17, 1903.

We visited four lighthouses, and climbed two of them. By far, my favorite was the Bodie Island Lighthouse. I liked it so much because it looked so forlorn. I always have this theatrical notion about lighthouses- forsaken, somber, distant. And the Bodie Island Lighthouse, especially on that gloomy day we visited, was exactly like that. But the prettiest was the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse- tallest in America. Its spiral stripes looked truly impressive. We also climbed the lighthouse, and we had the most spectacular view of the Cape Hatteras National Seashore and the Atlantic Ocean. The fourth lighthouse we visited was the Ocracoke Island Lighthouse. It was located on a tiny, tiny island of Ocracoke (a 40-minute ferry ride further down south from Cape Hatteras, and so so tiny you can drive to the other end in a matter of minutes. They have only one highway, by the way). The lighthouse was only 75 feet tall, and we found her inacessible.

We found a lovely, lovely deserted beach near the Cape Hatteras lighthouse. David loved it so much, he said he could stay there forever. Until retirement? Nope, he said. Maybe a month. It was so quiet, peaceful and relaxing just gazing at the deep blue Atlantic ocean. We absolutely loved it.

We stayed in a small, inexpensive oceanfront motel in Kill Devil Hills. We call it "Psycho motel". It kinda reminded us of the Bates motel in the movie Psycho, hehee. But luckily, there was no psycho in the shower :)

It was an amazing three-day mini-vacation. We took a different route on the way back home, and made a quick stopover in Virginia Beach. Then we took the Chesapeake Bay Bridge which was alluring beyond words. David took tons of pictures on our vacation. He had an amazing time.

Here are his pictures: www.flickr.com/photos/dng
(click OBX)

i miss coffee

For several occasions now, I am being tempted by the smell of the brewing coffee in the office dining hall. Well, tempted might be such a terrible word. I am being stirred-up - reminded, that is, of something that was so part of my whole being not so long ago.

I was a huge coffee-drinker before. Yup, was is the word. I used to drink gazillion cups of coffee until September 13, 2005. And then I quit. Since then, not a single drop of caffeine is in my sytem.

I was the kind of girl who couldn't possibly start the day without coffee. It has become my indispensable excuse of dallying all morning routines - not until I have my coffee. All my girl friends are huge coffee drinkers, too. A pot of coffee plus never-ending conversations are enough to make me and the girls cheerful and complacent.

Why did I quit? Mostly for health reasons. Apparently, years of coffee-drinking and foolish attachment to it are not intended for me. My hubby had been admonishing me for a long time to end the coffee subservience. But I continued to declare my undying loyalty to coffee, anyway. Until the doctor told me so.

I thought it was going to a difficult thing to do. Like stories I hear all about quitting smoking being the hardest thing to fulfill. So much like ending a paperback-worthy fiery love affair. But it turned out to be painless and uncomplicated, after all. I felt better, happier and unbelievably restored. My vital motivation was NOT to get sick. I hate being sick.

But the irresistible and tranquilizing aroma of coffee will always be one of my favorite scents. The smell of citrus, butter on toast, vanilla liqueur, freshly-brewed coffee are few of my favorite smells.

So everytime I smell coffee brewing here at work, or being greeted by its potent aroma upon entering a café - I will always be reminded of my love affair with coffee not too long ago. I miss coffee. But not too much, really. It was good while it lasted.

seven

We just celebrated our seventh year as a couple. That's eighty-four months of togetherness, two thousand five hundred-fifty five days of bliss. And we've been married for nineteen months and thirteen days (out of those seven years). I like to remember (and count) the days that David and I are together. I am an avid counter (hehe). People we know are amused when they ask me how long had we been dating before we got married, and I tell them- five years and five months. They say, I still remember now. But after a few years I would abandon the counting and just let the days pass by. I hope not!

I have plenty of fond memories of those seven years. On our first three years, we used to go out (all spiffy and dressed up) for dinner at the end of each month to celebrate our "birthday", complete with flowers (from him), and love letters (mostly from me). When he was away for a while in late 2002, we would email each other and call each other a lot. But it wasn't until the second time that he left in middle 2003 that I promised to write him everyday. And I did write him emails (note that it's in a plural form, hehe)everyday, rain or shine, come hell or high water.

And I also send him cards each month, (meticulously calculated so that he would receive it on the 30th, which is our birthday). I must have bought all the mushy Hallmark cards out there. Well, maybe except for those icky Tagalog-themed "Para sa Aking Minamahal" cards, hehee. And aside from those, we would send each other text messages day and night, and chat every Saturday afternoon, and talk on the phone on Sundays (and whenever he can). It was tough. A long-distance relationship is way tougher than any other obstacle. But I'm very proud we managed to get through it. It's one great feat.

The first time he went away, we were apart for six months, then he left again for five months. After that, we got engaged and then we were apart for a year. So basically, we planned our whole wedding through emails. And then barely two weeks after we got wed, he left and we weren't together again until five months later.

But now, we're practically glued to the hip for one year and two months. These are the greatest times of our lives, yet! Now we're seven. Hurray for seven years! I love DNG!

a pipe dream

Everyone has a favorite fantasy. And this is mine: one day embark on a year-long trip with the hubby and the kids in an exotic/historic place (top choices are Patagonia region in south Argentina, Salzkammergut in Austria, and the Karakoram in Pakistan), taking millions of photographs, explore the culture, study the people and write all about it à la National Geographic article.

I was so impressed with the two families I read about in my old National Geographic magazine- photographer husbands and writer wives and their kids leaving their home and setting out to a strange foreign place. One family joined a salt caravan in the Hindu Kush mountain range in Pakistan/Afghanistan with their 5 year-old son, and the other went to a really remote Gimi village in Papua New Guinea with their 5 year-old daughter and lived there for a year. They studied the culture and had the greatest adventure of their lives!

I was so enticed by it I have this long-time fervent dream to undertake a trip in the same manner. Travel into a notable but not a tourist-exploited place, traverse though a remarkable route not taken by a regular tourist, meet the people, eat the food, explore and experience the culture, and write a detailed, entertaining account of the whole adventure.

Fantastic. This is my everlasting fantasy. However, I'm not sure if we're cut out for such a rugged, bold and spirited adventure. For one thing, I'd lug a million things and I need a proper bathroom. While my hubby can be game with just his camera and an anti-insect spray, he would probably despise me for ALL the things I NEED to bring along. And probably we wouldn't last- we'd miss our bed by the second night :)

As fantastic but vain hope as this can be, I'm holding on to it. It is much too marvelous to be ever abandoned. I guess I am still hoping one day we could venture out something as impressive as my fantasy. But I believe we could start with something manageable at this time. Like going on a lighthouse hunt in the Outer Banks, North Carolina.

For weeks we've been thinking about it and finally decided to go. And after being threatened by an impending storm heading towards the Carolinas yesterday, we've breathed easy today knowing the storm veered towards another direction. We wouldn't want to go to on our trip drenched in a storm.

We plan to drop by the first lighthouse in Corolla and hopefully we could go down to the Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in Buxton. Exploring the Outer Banks would be a wonderful adventure for us. It's historic, close to nature and a great opportunity to explore new things. So many photographs to take, so many fascinating stories to write.

We're so excited about it. Maybe after this trip, we can step up to something more energetic and elaborate. And who knows? Maybe one day, we could really go on my fantasy trip. It would be one spectacular tale to share..........

the window

The tall, narrow glass window at the far end of our bedroom is a wellspring of so many reverie and latenight ponderings. The old window is covered with flimsy cream curtains, because I am a curtain woman. It was one of the major decisions when we first moved in- my husband would have preferred blinds, but I chose curtains. During the day, I open the curtains a little and floods of light come in, washing the whole room with bright sunshine. And then at night, it reflects the lights from outside, giving it a tranquil, by oneself mood.

On quiet early summer evenings, I sit on the edge of the bed and I could see top of the trees and the clear blue skies through the old window. And when in bare feet, leaning close to the window, sometimes pressing the side of my head against the window pane, I see the street below, with cars scurrying in hushed urgency. From our fifteenth-floor spot, I could see the world below, and heavens above from that tiny cranny of this old window.

Each night, before I close my eyes into deep sleep, the window somehow illuminates my thoughts and take me somewhere remote and whimsical. The lights seem to dance and the sound from the outside world barely audible. Lying in bed on my back, if I lift my feet it obscures the light and my feet seemed to fit the whole frame. I welcome the unopposed solitude the window unveils.

I have witnessed the seasons change through the window. It was late summer when we moved in. The trees I saw were still green and abundant. Then it changed to bright orange and then to brown. It was such a wonderful, flaming sight. And then, it fell one by one until it was bare. Each wintry day I woke up, and I gazed through the window, I always hoped the trees will be flourishing green again... The warmth and eagerness of spring were arresting as seen through the window . Now it's summer again.

When I step into the bedroom at night, with the soft curtains drawn and aglow with the lamplight, the window seem unassuming. Forlorn. Unimportant. But most of it are untrue. The window, with its simplicity, is a threshold of wonder, hope, joy and boundless freedom.

birthday girls

Last weekend, I shared birthdays with Alexandria, the city. Mine was on Friday and hers was on Saturday, and she was about 228 years older than me ;) It was a happy, eventful birthday for me. It was a sunny day (after two weeks of storms and rains), had an unconventional pineapple upside-down birthday cake, my favorite girl friends wishing me a blissful year, and many surprise greetings from old friends. Plus of course, an affectionate hubby waking up earlier than usual to let me make a wish on my cake, and happy greetings from my mom (and dog) whom I miss so much.

I'm 29- happy, hopeful, better, loved and grateful for the wonderful opportunities.

My goal still is: to make this year better than the past year. I realized, not too long ago, that to have strict rules and pushing your limits as to consummating your ambitions can sometimes bring disillusionment. Which is why I finally made peace with myself. Now I hope for the best, and strive to be happy no matter what.

What made it a wonderful birthday weekend? The company and the simple things cherished with the ones you love.... On Saturday afternoon, David and I strolled and enjoyed the street scenes in Old Town with our mango-passion fruit smoothie and iced latte, spotted a bride and a groom having their photographs taken at the park, felt the damp, newly-cut grass in the park and later joined a multitude of people at the Oronoco Bay park to celebrate Miss Alexandria's birthday.

I'm sure Alexandria had a great birthday, too. A lot of people came to celebrate her big day. There was a symphony orchestra concert in her honor, a huge birthday cake, and the best of them all- a spectacular fireworks display and a thundering cannon overture. What a wonderful way to celebrate two hundred and fifty-seven years of greatness!

Here's to us, looking forward to many more splendid birthday celebrations!

one day more!

Here are morsels of my birthday memories (as far back as 1998; beyond that, those were simply forgotten memories, hehe) I’m not a big party birthday girl, and I am not fond of entertaining and I’d rather celebrate with closest friends and family. Now, isang tulog na lang! I’m a boithday girl again.

1998- went out to dinner at the defunct Pecan Tree café with Farrah and Lilian. Farrah delivered the news that she was pregnant
1999- had a birthday dinner at Bigby’s with friends. Got a huge rag doll present from Lilian
2000- went to dinner with David at Lemon Tree
2001- went to Drew’s first birthday party at the beach. Lilian made me a really sinful, sweet chocolate pie. Later that night, David treated me to dinner at Bigby’s

2002- went to Joaquin’s birthday party at Jollibee. Later David and I hung out at Taza
2003- David left two days before. It was a rainy, rainy day. Got a huge rectangular birthday cake from David’s mom
2004- Had a Spiderman-inspired cake! David’s mom threw me a birthday lunch at their house
2005- Had an Italian birthday dinner. The waiter asked for our IDs when we ordered wine :)

I’m turning 29 tomorrow! Here are parts of the song I love, One Day More from my all-time favorite, Les Miserables:

One day to a new beginning

There's a new world for the winning

There's a new world to be won

Tomorrow we'll discover

What our God in Heaven has in store!

One more dawn

One more day

One day more!

a drizzly day

The weather has gone from toasty to drizzly to rainy. This is the summer of storms and I am wondering when the bad weather's gonna go away. Yesterday, the 4th of July fireworks were threatened by the impending storm. But fortunately, it didn't turn ugly and at around 9:00pm, in time for the fireworks, the sky had cleared up a bit, just enough to see the spectacular displays and away from the torment of looking like a turkey gaping up at the sky choking down on the rainshower! :)

It was a stifling 4th of July- muggy and rainy compared to the previous year. But at least, there was no real storm and it turned out to be not bad at all. Last year, we were at the Capitol watching the concert and waiting for the fireworks spectacle. So this year, since I've been there once, and once is enough, we spent the 4th of July elsewhere- at Darko's place. We went up to their building rooftop at 9:00pm to watch the fireworks in distant DC. And then much later, we lighted up their firecrackers at the park behind their building.

The firecrackers were two bit compared to the shameless, devilish, finger-shattering firecrackers back home, of course (hehe). I'm a little afraid of firecrackers, but seeing how tame it was last night, I managed to hang loose around a bit. The firecrackers back home can well be explosives. Too dangerous.

Darko's adorable nephew, Stefan, was the cutest thing ever. Imagine how thrilled I was when he clung to me while he ignored everyone else. He looked so precious on his oversized onesie. When we were about to leave, I carried him in my arms and asked him if he wants to come home with us. He nodded yes right away! I teased them I wanna take the little boy home, and Darko told me, "good! Bring him back when he's 18!" He never complained when were at the door and heading towards the elevator, he really wanted to come with us home!

Today is a drizzly, then rainy day. I could see the heavy rain pelting down on my window earlier this afternoon. There's a hushed harmony on rainy days. My distinct images on rainy days are warm blankets, the smell of coffee brewing, a muted TV, paper boats racing through a stream of water, wet fallen leaves, the sounds of birds against the quietude after a heavy rain, the trees seemingly standing burdened and still....

But then, I wish there won't be any more rain....