wimpy, wimpy.

I am the biggest wuss there is in the whole planet. I am almost three decades old and I still haven’t overcome the fear of needles.

Last Monday, we went to the clinic and had blood drawn from me for laboratory tests. I was dreading about it the whole week before. I had to hold to hold the hubby’s hand the whole time and winced as I felt the needle pierced. It was good-sized needle, the hubby said. I didn’t dare look at it, because I know I’d die! David had a ball telling my mom how I “almost” fainted while the blood was taken. Of course, I won’t admit I was about to faint. I got really pale, I was sure. I dabbed red tint on my lips before we went to the clinic, so as not to embarrass myself when color drains from my lips.

I had squeezed the hubby’s hand too hard when the second needle pricked for another test. He said it hurt, but he was more amused by the funny look on my face. Again, on Wednesday, my ordeal was far from over for we had to go back for a couple of shots. A couple of shots on my left arm were like a couple of my toenails were pulled out. Or something like that. I told you, I am wimpy.

Even if all people say it’s just feels like an ant bite, it still seriously hurts. And I know where does this spiel lead. I know I haven’t gotten into the “real”, “major” pain in my life yet. But I’ll cross the bridge when I get there. Meantime, feeling beaten by the needle shots, I guess I just have to dust myself off and say, I survived. Until the next shot.

happy bee day!

The other night, I labored until half-past midnight baking David’s birthday carrot cake. Or is it carrot birthday cake? Whichever. I kissed the birthday boy a happy birthday still with my pink baking bandana (no chef’s toque!) and smudges of flour on my face (plus a scraped finger). I, must take a bow, I was caught in a baking frenzy and when the hubby wished for a carrot birthday cake, I gladly (and foolhardily) took the challenge.

First of all, I’m not a carrot cake fan. (The hubby knows it). I have tasted carrot cake once when I was young, didn’t like it, and declared I won’t eat carrot cake ever. But “ever” ended last night- I ate David’s birthday cake. What do you know? Carrot cake tastes better when you baked it yourself!

Second, this was a meaningful project because for recent years, most of our birthday cakes were store-bought. If you can find it in Whole Foods bakery, why bother making it? What a hang-loose attitude. Last year, he had a raspberry-white chocolate cheesecake. Rich, luscious, chichi. Whole Foods, of course. But this year, I made him a promise- I will bake him a birthday cake.

I am not overdoing this Martha Stewart wannabe thingy, am I? But the hubby was happy. Although his round birthday cake with cream cheese frosting looked two bit compared to the flashy cheesecake, still he had the biggest smile on his face and had endless thank you’s and sweet words to me. It was worth it. Why, I couldn’t buy something like that in Whole Foods.

small doses of fun

Mikka and Jay’s wedding

Mikka was a perky, emotional and offbeat bride. Her groom was so tall, and she was so petite, so she wore this white platform wedding shoes (she said it was her “stripper” shoe)! Their wedding was held on a cool Thursday late afternoon in a spectacular gardens called Meadowlark. Dark clouds loomed and threatened a downpour hours before the ceremony (it was held outside), but it never did. Instead, tears poured down- the bride, the groom, and the people who witnessed their union.

After cocktails, people moved into at the atrium where the reception was held. The color motif was aquamarine and chocolate. Their three-tier wedding cake had aquamarine icing and chocolate details. Their favors were fortune cookies dipped in aqua-dyed white chocolate with chocolate sprinkles. Guests dined on stuffed chicken, steak, creamed asparagus and different kinds of salads. And the best part of all? The open bar!

They danced and kissed to the song Spend My Life With You as a newlywed couple. More gaiety, dancing, tears (during toasts), merriment and drinking as the night wore on. It was a lovely wedding. Simple, but characteristically happy and heartfelt.

row your boat

The hubby got blisters on his hands from rowing the boat on Burke Lake last Sunday. We had a picnic on the park with some friends, and we just had to try the boats. The lake was fairly big-sized, and the sun was not too harsh that day, so we had fun. The hubby did all the rowing, and I was his navigator. I thought I was a little dictatorial (yikes!) – always chattering “to the right, to the right! a little to the left, a little to the left!”. Actually, I was scared the boat would sink (hehe). Can you blame me? The boat looked like an empty tin of Spanish sardines, and there was water on the bottom! (I guess people before us dumped water into the boat).

Perhaps I could try my hand at rowing the boat next time. Until I get blisters.

to-may-toes!

The joy of rediscovery! Suddenly inspired by the simple tomato salad prepared by our friends at the picnic, the hubby and I promised to eat more tomatoes. Vitamin C overload. So last Sunday night, we chopped big, juicy red tomatoes, cucumbers, and white onions, sprinkled it with salt, and added just a tiny, tiny splash of vinegar. Drool…. I slaver just thinking and writing about it now. It’s funny how the food you avoided as a child come to win you over now that you’re old(er). It’s gonna be tomato salad night tonight!

mix it

I experimented with my pasta meat sauce recently. I added sour cream to the usual blend of bottled pasta sauce, chopped onion and garlic, Italian seasoning and grated cheddar cheese. The result? The hubby liked it! So from now on, sour cream will be an essential part of all my pasta sauces.

I made a coconut custard the other night- another experiment. It was basically a leche flan recipe- I just substituted milk with coconut milk and used powdered sugar instead of my typical condensed milk. It was good (I guess). But the hubby ate it, so it must be “tasty”. He’s my trusted taste tester. If he wrinkles his nose, and say uhm… ok pud when I ask him if the stuff is okay, then it’s a NO. But he never retches or spit out any of my experiments ;) He’s that kind and considerate of my feelings. He just “forgets” it, and there it sits on the refrigerator until it’s time for it to be discarded. It’s my cue that my experiments are crappy.

Hehehe!

little things make you the happiest

When things seem dull, come up with a list of things which make you happy. Here's mine:

- milk and Oreos
- Cheetos
- a nap on the sofa before fixing dinner
- a quiet time at home after a day’s work
- sour cream and tomato soup
- looking at friends’ wedding photos
- freshly washed comforters
- linen-scent carpet freshener
- fixing a cappuccino smoothie for the hubby
- unexpected email from an old friend
- seeing your high school friend’s baby sister all grown-up
- plane-spotting on a hot afternoon at Gravelly Point
- shopping for TV dinners, on sale
- finding a new dress in less than 20 minutes at the mall
- olive butter hand cream
- cream cheese on wheat bread
- finding an old favorite song from ten years ago (Kavana, Will You Wait For Me?)
- looking forward to making fried rice for dinner
- sharing a showbiz gossip with the hubby
- bright sunshine
- snagging a Victoria’s Secret Dream Angels parfum spray from a party
- getting nice looking photographs
- a stain-free white linen table cloth
- going barefoot around the house
- watching a TV show that the hubby likes
- catching snippets of Sex and the City reruns
- almost finishing a good book
- a good article in a magazine
- funny anecdotes from the past
- always sneaking an extra hour of sleep in the morning
- a clutter-free house
- a good night sleep
- funniest home videos
- a tall mug with different-patterned heart print
- freshly-cooked, hot white rice for dinner
- ‘Citrus Smoothie’ hair conditioner
- newly pedicured toes
- garlic bread
- Jelly Ace
- sparkling mirrors after Windex
- vanilla cones
- smell of coffee

....and more.

ten years ago....

.... I oooh-so loooove this song.


Just reminiscing.

smell you later...!

The smell and feel of Pond’s Facial Wash will always and forever remind me of hot afternoons and old friends from USC in Cebu, in late 1993 and early 1994. We were freshmen in college, were makeup-free, and were somehow hooked on washing our faces with Pond’s every afternoon in our earnest attempt to keep our face pimple-free, oil-free and clog-free.

My mother-in-law had left a tube of Pond’s when she left for home last weekend. The other night, I tried to wash my face with it, and the unmistakable scent of it instantly reminded me how Claire would troop us all to the Ladies Room, after our first afternoon class, to wash our faces. It was a period of guilelessness and easy happiness. No mascaras, no concealers, no lipstick at all. Claire, with her freshly-scrubbed, flawless, cheery face always convinced us that “fresh and clean” was the way to go.

I miss those days. And I terribly miss my friends’ company. It’s funny how a simple, unassuming tube of a facial wash can intensely hint memories of friendship. I loved those girls! I remember that we had an extremely boring Religious Education and Sociology classes before, and it was almost a comfort to daydream of washing our faces afterwards. A cotton face towel and a tube of Pond’s Facial Wash were a fixture in each other’s handbags.

I have since switched to a different facial wash a few years after I left USC, but Pond’s will always have a special nook in my heart. It will always be a reminder of a period in my life when relationships, household chores, career and finances are unknown entities just yet. Back when what mattered most were friends, grades (1.0s!), books, exams and having a great time.

Ah, youth.

Shallow Stein

Here’s an excerpt from a Joel Stein article in TIME Magazine, April 9, 2007
http://www.time.com/time/magazine/article/0,9171,1604946,00.html

Jollibee, with more than 1,400 stores in the Philippines and 11 branches in California, makes McDonald's look like a funeral parlor. Its mascot is a jolly bee, and the restaurants are blindingly happy, all giant, shiny yellow blocks, as if they were designed by an architect from Legoland. Even if you gave Walt Disney all the ecstasy in the world, he would not have come up with this. America, according to Jollibee, is clearly a place of childlike optimism. Jollibee's two most popular items are called the Yumburger and the Chickenjoy. The Yumburger has a weird, plasticky dollop of French dressing in the middle. The crisped-up French fries are dry inside and taste as if they weren't just double fried but dunked in oil four or five times. The fried chicken is halfway decent, but the inflated, happy fakeness of Jollibee makes you feel that the only American its Filipino owners have ever seen is Pamela Anderson.

Can you believe what this obtuse clown has been saying? It’s pretty obvious that he is slanted, if not totally bigoted, writing about this. And it totally irks when reading articles like this is that everything have to “taste” like American, “look” like American, “feel” like American. And Joel Stein has been clueless (ignorant?) in writing about Jollibee’s concept and appearance. And please, Jollibee was NOT made for America. Although, it is American style-inspired, Jollibee is 100% Filipino made for the Filipino people. The bright red and yellow colors of Jollibee depict the happy, open-minded and tolerant nature of the Filipinos. Jollibee was made for, and will always be for the boundlessly good-natured Filipino children. And Jollibee has been a big hit in the Philippines before it came to America to cater to the taste of the Filipino people residing here. Why does Joel Stein thought Jollibee was made for America?

He may not fancy the taste of Jollibee, but to call it fake is outrageous. I wonder what standards Joel Stein are using. His own twisted, tainted American standard, perhaps? And to say that “the only American its Filipino owners have seen is Pamela Anderson”. Can you believe a TIME writer like Joel Stein still think that Filipinos have limited, puny and crude view and experience of America? For his information, the Jollibee owners can buy him anytime, with plenty of millions still to spare. Hmm, it makes me think if Joel Stein still believes that Filipinos live in tree houses. Can you believe this Shallow Stein?

I used to like reading Joel Stein’s articles, but this definitely has turned me off. It doesn't matter if he calls that crap a "humorous article". Down with Stein, stand up for Jollibee!!!

Niagara Falls, 16 May- 18 May

It was half-past two in the afternoon when we arrived at Niagara Falls, NY. After an eight-hour drive (and never missing any exits), we were finally there. It was cold- only high 40s, and the sun was never out! After checking in to our hotel, we ventured out to the Niagara Falls Park, and found out that the whole town was practically deserted. Very few shops were open, and even fewer people (tourists) were there. At only in the 40s temperature, who would want to vacation in that condition? We learned, much later, that visitors start coming in after the Memorial holiday. We were a tad early for Niagara Falls.

We saw the American rapids first, then crossed the pedestrian bridge to the Goat Island, where several lookout points to the American Falls and the Horseshoe Falls are located. At the tiny Luna Island, people can see the thundering rapids before it jumps onto the American Falls, and the much smaller Bridal Veil Falls. It was pretty amazing. My favorite was the Terrapin Point, where you get a magnificent quarter-view of the mighty Horseshoe Falls on the Canadian side. The rising mist, the rushing water from the Niagara River, and the falls itself was a true beauty beyond words. Going down the steps to Terrapin Point, on a gloomy early evening, with the view of Canada and the soaring mist from the falls- it was a surreal experience. I have always wanted to see the Niagara Falls, and there I was, and it was all that I have expected. And much more.

I guess the perk of visiting Niagara on a cold, gloomy day is that you have the whole park to yourself and you don’t have to clamor for a spot to get the best view. At Prospect Point, and at Luna Island, you get the best view of the American Falls without anybody cutting you off.

We found dinner at the only restaurant which seemed to be open- an Indian restaurant called Punjabi which served an all-you-can-eat, cold, stale, baaaad, poorly-spiced Indian food. Ugggh. The waiters even looked as bored and as stale as their food. But what can one do? I think eating our baon granola bars would fare better. The Hard Rock Café, although it had blaring music outside, doesn’t seem to be open.

The next day, it was even colder- only in the 30s! We started the day with an oversized, overrated breakfast at the local Denny’s (no other choice, nowhere else to go). And then we headed out for the Maid of the Mist. It was surprisingly inexpensive at $12.50, and the experience was superb. We had the ubiquitous blue raincoats and we were on our way to a 30-45 minute sail at the foot of the American Falls and then at the sublime, stupefying Horseshoe Falls. The spray of cold water from the falls on our faces was unbelievably exhilarating!

The most overwhelming part of the Maid of the Mist trip was when the boat was actually at the foot of the Horseshoe Falls, and there you can see and hear nothing but the thundering waterfalls, the mist, the roar of the falling water and you can all but feel, drink, taste, smell and hear water! Actually, in the midst of it all, I spied a lone goose (a goose, the hubby insisted because I kept on saying a duck) right smack at foot of the falls, having a ball swaying in the waves and acting like it was not a big deal. I’ve seen nothing like it! A goose with a been-there-done-that attitude!

We spent the rest of the afternoon visiting a godforsaken shopping mall, a lonely Polish Catholic Church in an equally deserted neighborhood. The whole town seemed to be side-tracked, and there was nothing else to see but the beautiful falls. It was kind of sad. We talked to the Polish lady who cleaned the church, and she told us that the town is being abandoned by the young people and old people remained and they kept on dying. She said that the Catholic Church may have to be closed soon. We also drove up north-east to a village called Youngstown. It was an idyllic place, and further up on Lane Road, we can catch a glimpse of the blue Lake Ontario. Early evening we were headed to the Seneca-Niagara Casino, and this time I was let in by the bored young man at the entrance. We hit the slots, but we never won anything. Not even a dime. As expected.

At ten o’clock on our last night at Niagara, we returned to the Prospect Point to see the illuminated falls. Beams of colored floodlights light up the falls and it was incredibly beautiful. Mists rose up in a medley of colors and it had a spectacular, enchanting effect. Aaaamazing. Not bad to cap our last night.

On the day of our departure, the sky was suddenly bright and sunny, and it was warm. Luck wasn’t on our side, I guess. The trip back home was pretty uneventful except for one thing- we almost ran out of gas! In the middle of Pennsylvania back country! I feared that we may have to flag down trucks and ask for spare gas, or hitch a ride home, haha! What happened was really absurd. We didn’t fill the tanks while in Niagara, thinking it was a bit expensive there and we will find something cheaper on our way. When it was time to head for the next gas exit, the hubby got an unexpected call from his boss, and we missed the exit. The tank was almost empty, and so we thought, oh, in the next gas exit. And the next gas exit turned out to be at least 40-50 miles away! And the low fuel light was flashing, and we were panicking. We don’t wanna be stuck in the middle of Pennsylvania boonies!

So after an eternity of roads without gas signs, and every minute passing feeling like puking and passing out, we finally found four gas stations. The hubby said he was never ever been happier to see a gas station in his life, haha! Moral lesson? Always fill the tanks full, and never ever assume there’ll be a gas station at the next exit.

Thoughts on the Niagara trip? Beauty. Nature. Calm. Solitude. Abandon. Simplicity. Power.

of caves and a bell

The other Sunday, we visited the Luray Caverns in Luray, Virginia. It was my first time to be inside a cave and to be “16 floors” below the earth’s surface. I tend to be claustrophobic, but the Luray Caverns was huge inside and it was well-lit for the tourists, so my fear for confined places and darkness never cropped up. Plus there were lots of guided tours that went on inside, so it wasn’t exactly like going deep into hell’s deep alone ;) And too, there were kids who chose to cry and scream and shriek every time the guide gives a speech about stalactite this and stalagmite that, which made it harder, with her thick redneck accent, to understand what she was saying!

But I was impressed with the cavern. It was pretty amazing, with its rock formations, the clearest pool of water I’ve ever seen which reflected perfectly the stalactites, the mazes and crevasses and everything inside. It was a great nature’s creation. It was like under Pluto’s lair, yet, not that scary.

And to continue on with our touristy romps with my mom-in-law, we took her to Philadelphia on Monday. The weather was fine, and so it was an enjoyable day to be in the historic city. First, we had lunch at this Malaysian restaurant called the Banana Leaf. I had the salted fish fried rice- one of the many things I miss from home. Salted fish fried rice, we meet again! David had a ferociously spicy prawn noodles bowl, which he labored (seriously) to finish. He gave up at half-bowl, and settled to eat the chicken satay with peanut sauce.

After lunch, we went to see the Liberty Bell and the Independence Hall. Pictures here. Pictures there. Pictures everywhere. And then it was time to go home. We actually had a glimpse of the famous Rittenhouse Square, but never had time to explore it. Next time, next time.
I felt we’ve spent more time driving than actually spending time in those famous tourist spots. I was so tired. Sooo tired.

my funny names

Your Mexican Name Is...

Doña Dominga

Your Celebrity Baby Name Is...

Poppy Zola

It made me laugh! Try it! Happy weekend, everyone!

http://www.blogthings.com/mexicannamegenerator/
http://www.blogthings.com/celebritybabynamegenerator/

Meat, meat, meat!

Thank God I’m a meat-eating creature! I never thought I could eat that much amount of meat in one sitting. Last Saturday, a nice lady at work who frequently treats us for lunch took us to dinner to a Brazilian restaurant called Chima (pronounced SHE-ma).

Chima offers traditional Southern Brazil style of barbecue. And the skewered meats are served on your table by gauchos (Brazilian cowboys). All you can eat! You just have to flip your round disk (which they gave to you before you start your meal) to orange to signal the gauchos to keep the meat coming, or to black when you want to take a break. First, we started off at the salad bar where you can choose a delicious selection of salads and other Brazilian specialties – Feijoada, potato salad, Waldorf salad, mashed potatoes, Tabbouleh tomato antipasta, cucumbers, assorted cheeses, beef carpaccio, farofa, fruits and a lot of other sinfully delicious things. Several kinds of rice and soups were also served. And they had this tiny round, cheese-filled bread you eat with turkey pâté which are heavenly.

And talking about the meat, gauchos with loose-fitting trousers and orange neckerchiefs were constantly making rounds serving top sirloin, lamb, rack of lamb, filet mignon, flank steak, prime rib, chicken, salmon and sausages. So it was a game of flipping it orange or black until you can’t take it anymore. Truly a meaty, satisfying experience!

We also had a taste of guarana drink from the famous Brazilian berries, which is believed to be energy-boosting. We had a great, great time! But I think I’m going to take it easy with meat for a while from now on. Meat is so good, and I won’t be timid to say vegetarians are missing out a lot! Life is too precious (and short) to dump meat completely!

Cheers to all the carnivores out there!

Miss Outdoorsy

I am not a girl who loves to hike, jog, or play the rugged life for that matter. I would be the first one to object to a camping trip. If argued into it, I might think over it twice or maybe thrice. But most likely, I’d pass up altogether. Call me vain and squeamish, but I just don’t think I’m cut up for rough pursuits such as long hikes, camping, mountain climbing, etc. I am not even enticed to try white water rafting.

I enjoy nature but not too much I wanna live for it. I admire people who take camping in the woods seriously, or those who jog even in the dead of winter. What I like best about nature is the magnificent scenery. And I do enjoy little walks in the park, and picnics in the park, or just plainly hanging out watching the world go by.

Last Saturday afternoon, I went with the hubby for a run in the park adjacent to the building where we live. It was a beautiful day, the sun was out and there was a gentle breeze. The hubby was itching to start his exercise, his get-an-active-lifestyle-oath. So we went through the back parking lot into the wooded trail along the creek, past the wooden little bridge into the park. We ran (hubby) and walked (me) two rounds around the park. The grasses and trees in the park are in its full spring glory that day, so it was a wonderful sight. Very relaxing. It felt good, I discovered. I might go with him the next time he goes for a run/walk.

Sunday afternoon was also spent outdoors. We took the mother in law to the Arlington National Cemetery. The weather was a bit warm, but just enough to enjoy the leisurely walks around the place. We visited the Kennedy gravesite, and then to the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier where we witnessed a ceremonial laying of the wreath and the notable ceremonial changing of the guards. The last time the hubby and I witnessed the ceremony was on a rather cold November day last year. Taps was played on bugle (trumpet) at the wreath ceremony. I think taps is one of the two most moving musical piece of all times. The other one, in my opinion, is the wedding march. The two are completely in contrast (taps convey “end”, while the wedding march denotes “beginning”), however, they connect in the manner of stirring the emotions.

Maybe I shall have more luck being Miss Outdoorsy this summer.

Harpers Ferry

Ah, glorious, glorious sun! The sun shone brightly last Saturday for the first time in months and the temperature shot up to a divine 70 degrees. To think that only a week before, I was shivering in my toes. Suddenly I was alive and perky! No wonder the Incas worship the sun. It gives life, it makes people happy.

And so last weekend, we went on a real excursion to Harpers Ferry, West Virginia. Harpers Ferry is a little, old historic town where three states meet- West Virginia, Virginia and Maryland. And it is also the location where two famous rivers converge- the Shenandoah and the Potomac. The tiny, tiny town is rich is Civil War history. So little was the town that you can tour it in half a day. But no doubt about it, Harpers Ferry is a picturesque town. To walk in its cobblestone streets and alleys was amazing. It has few restaurants, some little museums, a number of souvenir shops and various Civil War sites and memorials. It also has a history dating back 1747. And Lewis and Clark replenished their supplies at Harpers Ferry back in 1803. Being nestled in a ravine, and with its old world buildings, the town exuded charm and mystery.

Harpers Ferry is only an hour and twenty-one minutes away from where we live. By the time we got there at half past ten o’clock, the sun was shining splendidly and visitors start trickling in. We got a nice parking by vintage-looking train station. It’s amazingly beautiful to watch a train go by. I am talking about the old trains which carry supplies, mails, etc. AmTrak passes by Harpers Ferry, too. As outdated as it may look, but people still has wonder about a train coming. When the train siren sounded somewhere, people really liven up and wait for its arrival, and then watch the train roll by, leaving an air of amazement in its trail.

We had lunch at the Armory Pub. I had wanted to dine al fresco, all getting excited with the restaurant’s deck with a good view of the train tunnel and the two rivers. But the hubby said it’s out of the question since bees were hovering above. So we ate inside its all-wood second-floor dining hall. I had the tuna melt sandwich, the hubby had the Philly cheese steak melt, and the mother-in-law had the crab cake sandwich, which she declared as the best meal she has ever had so far in the US. The food was good, however, the strangest thing was we were charged 25cents for our glass of water. First time I encountered such a preposterous thing.

We explored the quaint, narrow streets of the lower town, the railroad trestle, climbed the stone steps up the hill to the St. Peter’s Catholic Church and the St. John’s Church ruins. It has a great view of the lower town and the two rivers. We trekked in the footbridge to the C&O Canal, and watched an AmTrak glide past us and into the tunnel. In the Arsenal Square stood John Brown’s fort- a significant Civil War relic. We trod the pebble path to the Point, a lookout point for the converging two rivers. The sun was high and ablaze that my nape, neck and the top of my shoulders got burnt. But what the heck, I’ve been covered up for far too long I’m proud I got mildly toasted!

We spent the last 15 minutes of our visit at Harpers Ferry sitting on a bench outside the dark brick-red color of the Waiting Room at the railroad station, eating ice cream cones. We were hoping to catch another train and see what it’s like. But the train never came and it was time to leave. Maybe next time.

We drove for another 14 minutes to Charles Town, West Virginia, to the Charles Town Races and Slots. It was close to 4 pm when we got there, and the 4th level parking was practically deserted. I was excited to go to the casino. But I never got to try the slots and missed my chances of winning thousands of dollars (hehe) because the security adamantly refused to let me in. They wanted my ID. I didn’t bring any. I was more worried about the thong sandals I was wearing and totally obliterated the matter of bringing any form of identification. The whole thing- is worthy of another blog entry.

It still was, a glorious, happy, toasty, merry Saturday.

Favorite Quote of the Day

"Never wrestle with a pig. You both get dirty, but only the pig likes it"

I came across this smart-ass quip online today, and it gives me the kicks since no matter what we say or think, it’s so true it’s funny!

It’s a pleasant distraction because of late, it has been dreary, moody and just plain bonkers. The weather sucks, not all things happen my way, stress can be excruciating. All I need is something to kick me out of glumness and stimulate my rather cluttered temperament right now. And what I need is a clever quote like that!

And the naked truth of the quote is diabolically cruel and wicked. But it makes us think. Hard. Why not? You choose your battles. If any loathsome character irks you, you just don’t jump at it and start a scuffle. It’s because loathsome characters intend to make your life detestable and miserable. And they get the satisfaction out of your misery. Rule no.1- never ever give them that satisfaction. As they say, no one can really hurt you unless you let them.

Life is too short to bother dueling off with pigs. There are many faces of pigs in this world – 1) one who unabashedly criticizes you in front of people; 2) one who thinks and makes you feel you’re beneath him; 3) one who is so inconsiderate he thinks he owns the world; 4) one who is so wasteful and selfish they never care about starving people in the world; 5) one who cheats; 6) one who constantly finds fault in everything you do; 7) one who thinks he’s the single most important person in this part of the world. And many other pig characters you can think about. Possibly, they’re clueless about their trashiness. But that makes them all the more dislikable.

It is also an atrocity to be thinking too much about these characters. That is why, you have to follow just the simple rules: 1) the quote above; 2) don’t waste your precious time fraternizing with people who pig it.

Have a happy-hippo life!

Knut and Leoooo

They're two of the cutest things this month! Well, next to my own knut at home, of course (wink, wink). Please READ. And this one, too.

Good Friday

It’s Good Friday today, and we’re still at work and worse…. we’re having pork loin for lunch. We’re bad, baaad Catholics. In strict traditional Catholic terms, I ought to be damned for not observing this day in silence and fasting.

Why is it called “Good” Friday? English is, together with Dutch, one of the few languages that call Good Friday 'good'. While one could say that Good Friday is the saddest day of the year for Christians, the Church uses the word 'Good' to show that Christ has died to liberate everyone from sin and that suffering and death are not pointless.

Other languages use other names for this day.

In Israel, Good Friday is known as "Big Friday." In Germany it is "Sad Friday". In Malta, the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Poland, Hungary, Serbia, Greece, Bulgaria, Republic of Macedonia (and Eastern Orthodox Church in general) the day is called “Great Friday”.

In Latin America, Spain, France, Italy and Portugal the day is called "Holy Friday"; in Denmark, Norway, Sweden, Finland, Faroe Islands and Iceland it is "Long Friday".

What I remember most of the Semana Santa back home are the stifling heat, semi-deserted roads and churches bustling with activity. And out of town trips and reunions, of course. Because Holy Week unofficially marks the start of the summer season. It’s a big, big holiday I love to “love and hate” at the same time. Love it, because of the long holidays, and hate it because it seems activities are limited. Well, except for that one Holy Week spent with friends in Camiguin Island, where activities were far from being “limited” and conducts far from being called “silent” and “restrained”. But it was a good holiday.

The Holy week in my mind is always linked to harsh sun, hum of church rituals, TV and radio stations on furlough, reconnecting with family and old friends. And sacrifices, little self-renunciation in our own personal way.

worrywart VS. neurotic

worrywart- n. One who worries excessively and needlessly.

neurotic- n. A person suffering from a neurosis. A person prone to excessive anxiety and
emotional upset.

neurosis- n. a functional disorder in which feelings of anxiety, obsessional
thoughts, compulsive acts, and physical complaints without objective
evidence of disease, in various degrees and patterns.

Since neurosis is no longer in scientific use, I’d just call myself… a worrywart. Besides, neurotic is a bit tad grim.

I am just feeling a little antsy today. I am just a girl who needs sesame bagels and cream cheese…..

back to Pooh corner

After a three-day hiatus from work, and then a lazy two-day weekend, I am almost reluctant to get up this morning to go back to work- to mounting paperwork, amassed voicemails and horde of emails. But when I got to my tiny, corner office at half past eight today, I was instantly relieved to be in this safe, quiet haven.

I, luckily, am lying low in a corner office where only a few people ever bother to venture- which is the nicest thing since I don’t ever get disturbed. Sometimes, I could stay here in my office working all morning and all afternoon without being interrupted. I just hear muted conversations from adjacent offices, distant phone rings, and the oh-so wonderful silence. The world has gone mad, indeed, because the old me who thrived on endless chatter now glorify noiselessness. Or perhaps, I have just gotten old.

Last week, we made a quick trip to New York City to show my visiting mother in law around. The noise, fast and nonstop activity was overwhelming a bit. My mother in law loved it. She has complained to us that our place is too deafeningly quiet, too boring. But the hubby and I have grown devoted to a quiet, peaceful life.

We took her to the usual touristy spots in New York- Times Square, Rockefeller Center, Fifth Avenue, Central Park, Empire State Building, Liberty Island, Chinatown, etc. It would’ve way more fun if not for the dreadful cold and windy weather. My two previous trips to New York, weather-wise, were more desirable. Last year, the hubby and I had a great time with my best friend and her family when they visited from Australia.

The brighter aspect in the trip were my two rewards that day- a bottle of perfume and a red tote- a guaranteed mark to make any (shivery) woman happy!

So now I’m back here to my warm, quiet, obscure hole. I guess occasional chaos and fast pace would be good for the body and soul. It keeps the balance mentally and physically. I would love to visit noisy places from time to time, but right now, this hushed, unruffled surroundings seem as beautiful as ever…

a chronicle on friendship

Back in 1993, as a college freshman at the University of San Carlos, I met a bunch of girls whom I shared one full semester of fun. It would have been a lot more wonderful had we, under circumstances beyond our control, stayed together in one school and enjoyed 3 more years of college together. But incredibly, we spent five amazing months as barkada, and it was one of the most meaningful friendships I’ve ever had.

Typically bubbly sixteen and seventeen year olds back then, we shared many unforgettable and happy times - shopping trips, movies, Friday night dinners, joyrides, sleepovers, attending one P.E. class, hanging out, endless talks and laughter. I loved every moment of it because they are the nicest girls I’ve met in my whole life- cheerful, nonjudgmental, persuasive, beautiful inside and out, and totally honest and confident. And so even after so many years of not seeing each other, they’re always on my mind and I wish all the time that one day, we’ll see each other again.

Claire, is the most exuberant of the bunch. She’s always in a happy mode and had this very infectious laugh. She’s sweet, thoughtful and caring, too. Ching, is very demure and the most ladylike among us. She is generous and doesn’t make anyone uncomfortable at all times. Anna Leah, is the most assertive and the most independent. She’s very nice, too, and she always has fun stories to tell. Keith (her real name is Mirabelle), is our no-nonsense girl. She’s active and she had pretty nice ideas to share, too. I love them to bits.

The last time I saw Claire was that summer in 1994 before I moved to XU. And then I saw Anna Leah for the last time in 1996 when they visited XU on a class trip. She brought me a card from Claire, telling me about the birth of her daughter Anya and that she misses me a lot. I saw Ching, too, when she came to XU one time but we lost touch pretty much after that. Keith was the person I never saw again after our “freshman-year-is-over” dinner. But I remember all of them so vividly and I will always wonder about them.

Last year, Ching and I were able to connect again online and it was one of the most exciting things. My hopes were high again, finding them seems like not a hopeless case, after all. And so I knew that Claire is now based in Manila and works for PAL, and Anna Leah is in Belgium. Just yesterday, Anna Leah had a chance to chat online and we were squealing like school girls again! It’s such a joy to find and connect with old friends once more. Sadly, nobody knew about Keith’s whereabouts now. But I’m still hopeful that she’s out there somewhere, and she’d stumble upon us online one day.

Five months is not too long a time for togetherness, but we squeezed a lot of memories in those months. We’ve had too many deep, substantial conversations and more hilarious and childish exchanges, too. We never fought with each other, but shared the sadness of the other. We teased each other mercilessly, but we are jealously cozy with each other, too. Sometimes I wonder what could’ve happened had I not moved to XU, or Claire had not chosen to attend another school, or Keith had not switched to another course. Would we endure BS Psychology together, and find jobs under the same discipline? Would we take vacations together? Would we influence each other in our relationship and career choices?

I guess, I’d reserve these questions to answer when we meet each other again one day. It would be so much fun talking to them again…

Sleepy and grumpy

I’ve received a second comment in two days that I look so sleepy. I suspect it’s just a mellower way of saying to me: “you look like hell”. It’s alarming! I’ve not been sleeping so well these past few weeks at all. Sleepiness is like a huge word emblazoned across my shirt, or an ubiquitous tag dangling from me, for that matter.

Yesterday, I felt so sleepy at 3:00 in the afternoon, and I couldn’t take it anymore that I had to lock the door in my office and rest my head on sheafs of papers and closed my eyes. I had to take extra precautions (hence, the locked doors) because I don’t wanna be caught sleeping at work in the middle of the afternoon. The nap was 18 minutes long. I’d be doomed if anyone from work read this, hehe.

I’m mostly to be blamed for all this fuss over sleepiness. We sleep really late, and I get troubles getting to sleep- naturally I’d wake up sluggish in the morning. With puffy eyes to match. And then the whole day, it’s like a vicious cycle of sleepy-active state. And the hubby wouldn’t buy the RLS (restless legs syndrome) thingy.

I’ve googled remedies for daylight sleepiness yesterday and one article suggested that eating chocolates will keep you awake. But it would mean you’d get fat because of consuming all those sinful chocolates. I’d rather feel sleepy, I guess, than to be a fatty. Hahaha.

Anyway, I guess I’d just have to sleep early and wake up early, too. And hopefully, I could find viable (and quick) remedies for daytime sleepiness. Any suggestions?