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.