New York minute

We wanted to do something new, something crazy, something unexpected. Like, (I asked my hubby) not pay the mortgage? Well, not THAT insane.

So last Saturday, despite the undesirable predictions of “some showers” and low 40s temperature, off we went to New York City. And- we took the bus! We parked our car in Union Station in DC and walked a couple of blocks to the Greyhound station- at 2:30 a.m. The four of us (me, David, our friends Darko and Janet), walking in the NE DC streets in an ungodly hour in freezing temperature- how’s that for a crazy start? Actually, we got a little lost at the Union Station, we didn’t know where to exit from the huge, deserted station. We were panicky because we didn’t want to miss the 3:15 bus. We didn’t miss it alright. The bus was 40 freakin’ minutes late! We didn’t know what was wrong, but the driver sort of pranced around, with his huge hat, as if announcing (as Darko said)- “look at me, look at me, I’m a bus driver!” People were cranky and impatient, and when David asked the lady at the ticket office what was taking the bus so long, the lady simply said- “It’s up to the driver’s discretion when to leave”. Whatda??!

And we wanted to slap him silly when he gaily (and ever so slothfully) took our tickets, acting like time was not wasted at all. Grrrr. We slept on the bus and then we were finally in NYC. We had breakfast at Sarabeth’s in Central Park South, where we ate a whole lotta eggs. Haha!

Our trip was kind of a short stop here and there, because we were only staying for the day. It was so cold, and gloomy. Our last two trips in NY were really cold, so David said he’s not ever coming back to NY when it’s freezing. We went to the Apple store on 5^th Ave. And then at FAO Schwarz to look at toys we weren’t going to buy. We waited outside (in icebox temperature) for minutes before the store opened. We witnessed the trumpeters’ fanfare, the laying out of the red carpet, and the staff cheering on the entrance of shoppers. It was kind of cute, but David thought everything was “silly”.

NYC cab drivers are one-of-a-kind. They fly the minute you get in. And there was no time to be polite. One of our cab drivers uttered the unspeakable N word to the other driver when we nearly hit his vehicle. Had he been a celebrity, he would have apologized on TV and would have gone to rehab. But it was New York, and people were perpetually impatient and busy.

Fifth Avenue was bustling with bundled-up tourists. I guess one can entertain himself just people watching all day. Although the Christmas tree was not set up yet, we went to see it at the Rockefeller Center. The gloomy weather did not deter the people’s sprightly spirits, including us. Achy feet? Naah. Biting cold? No sweat.

Lunch at Chinatown was unbelievable. Dirt cheap and as tasty as tasty Chinese food should be. We went to the tiny corner restaurant on East Broadway. David ordered the roast pork which he liked so much, and forever regretted not getting it to go. We ordered their yang chow fried rice. It was yummy, so we ordered another one. Then, it was that good that ordered two more to go. Whoa, now THAT was liking it so much! The roast duck was also good.

New York trip over so soon? We squeezed in a little stroll in Upper West Side. We went to Zabar’s. And some shopping, too. My prized find? A burgundy cashmere shawl. And lots of other stuffs, too. The bus trip back home was quick and on time (thank God!). By 9:30 p.m., we were back in good ole’ DC.

Was it fun? You bet. Sometimes, something unpredicted is more wonderful. It gives a great big oomph.

halo-halo

Today is gloomy, rainy and cold. Not my kind of day. But it’s a good thing that the rains came since the area had been experiencing droughts for weeks now. And thinking about the fires ravaging Southern California, I wish it were raining there, too. I was watching the movie The Holiday on HBO earlier this week, and the Santa Ana was mentioned. And then, the next day the wildfires started, fueled by the unusually fierce Santa Ana winds. When you agitate your mind with all the calamities going on in the world, you’re bound to just perish miserably. This is added stress. What to do, what to do?

Anyway, we bought half a gallon of Selecta halo-halo ice cream from the Filipino store this week. Too pricey at $10, but too mouthwatering to dismiss. I love it. Buko salad next time?

About the movie The Holiday, I liked it for its simplicity and agreeableness. It wasn’t explosive or massively tear jerking, but I found a lot of kilig and funny scenes. This kind of movies should be in my must list- I don’t need maddeningly passionate love stories or sappy, sappy love songs to make me smile. On hectic days and weeks, sometimes funny videos or a nice warm meal or photos, and nice pleasant movies are enough to ease up the crunch of daily life. Last night, I watched the movie Happy Feet in between cooking for dinner and dinner, and chores afterwards. It was so cute. So we’re planning to watch it again tonight on HBO.

While I was flooded with paperwork today, (and in fact, I’m bringing some work home tonight), I was thinking how glum today was. It’s now 5:30 pm and outside it’s already too dark. Definitely, not my kind of day. Summers are better. But I thought about the meeting that I conducted today, and how it went really smoothly, and at the end of the hour, one staff exclaimed “it was really a good meeting!” I realized, heck, it was so much better than whining that life sucks. I remember a clinician, who always seemed to find ways to complain about the cases that I assign to her, grumbled again to me last Tuesday. As I listened to her irate litany, I looked at her and was astounded. Here she was, just a couple of years older than me, and looking like she could already be my aunt. Holy crap.

So take it easy. Take time to think, that no matter how mad the day was, it will always be better tomorrow.

sixty-seven days 'til Christmas

The other day, I bought a creamy cappuccino-scented candle. I need a little bit of aromatherapy in my life right now. It’s calming to come home after a long day and have a room heavy with one of those stimulating aroma. Since I have stopped drinking coffee, who said I couldn’t “smell” it? The past three weeks had been hectic. So frenetic we were tired all the time. Adding the cooler temperatures, bed and sofa are instantly our choice words. Pleasant scents are always a relief. In my case, the scent of coffee always peps up nothing but good memories.

At our former boss’ Tie Burning” party at his house on Columbus Day, I tasted this wonderful thingy- wasabi nut. It was surprisingly very tasty, and you couldn’t help but pop them in your mouth one after another. His tie-burning party was fun. A lot of the staff were kind of edgy when he left (sort of, he was forced to retire by the Board), and I was half-expecting that the party would be all kvetching since a lot of people didn’t want him to leave, but then, everyone was pleasant. The food was good, and the people’s mood was less uptight than at work. Perhaps, life is too short to wallow in mournfulness all the time?

I interpreted for a Cebuano-speaking client of a law firm in Pennsylvania Avenue in DC last October 12. I took the train on a cold, windy day. I interpreted for fours and a half, and took the train again going back to the office. It was my first time to act as interpreter, and it was a fun experience. I met the three lawyers who worked with the client, and I had a great experience. After work, the hubby and I met three friends from work at an Ethiopian restaurant. I love the food. It’s not something I can eat everyday, but it’s very tasty and spicy I’d like to enjoy it from time to time. We also tried the Ethiopian beer, which was very light. One of our friends was egging me to let her try one of Philippine-made beers. I’d love for her to try San Miguel, but I don’t know where to get that around here. Or Red Horse kaya? Ha! One of our friends was Ethiopian, and he taught us how to say thank you in Amharic. It was too long, and I couldn’t pronounce it well. David was able to say it to our waitress, which delighted her very much.

I was able to beat the deadline for the county report at 4:35 pm on Monday, the 15th. I’m tasked to do the report on one of our county grants now. It was passed on to me since the last Program Manager left in a huff in July, and she didn’t really tell me much how to do the report (which was done online). I didn’t have an idea what I was getting myself into, and of course, I was frustrated until I was finally able to figure out what to do. How funny life is, when all your life you avoided getting involved in anything with numbers and figures- I chose to take the least amount of Math courses in college and I crawled, and I wept in my Stat and Research courses in Grad school- and then, now. Is this the way of the Heavens in punishing me?

Life is better with free pizza! We ordered pizza for dinner earlier this week. When we got there to pick it up, we waited another thirty minutes for it. I was not really that bored and exasperated, but I was pacing back and forth the whole time. (Because it was cold, and I felt better if I kept on moving). When the pizza was ready, the manager told us it was free, and we didn’t have to pay for it and he thanked us for waiting. With free 2-liter Coke pa! Not bad, not bad.

I finally made some binignit. I got all the ingredients from the Asian store, and on Wednesday night, there I was, ladling my way into a medium pot of my (authentic) Pinoy binignit. Oh well, the next day, I brought some at work, and shared it with some officemates. They liked it. Half the fun of making the binignit was explaining to my non-Filipino friends the ingredients and the history of the binignit!

Sixty-seven days ‘til Christmas! I haven’t heard a single Christmas carol yet! In the past, I always look forward to hearing my first Christmas carol for the year. Hopefully this year, I’d hear something classic and heart-tugging. Something like this:



Can't wait.....

The search for the great 0 S

I’m talking about a pair of jeans. Last weekend, I crawled and labored looking for a pair of perfect jeans. Perfect for me meant- dark, stretch, sits low on the waist, and of course, short and size 0, and most importantly, within my budget. (I’m not the kind of girl who buys those pricey jeans which can feed a whole country for a day). I guess I am just an unfortunate shopper because I had to sweat and toil each time I shop for a pair. That is why, when I find a good pair of jeans, I don’t usually horse around. I wonder if fellow size 0s have trouble like me.

I actually went to a couple of stores which was frequented by teenagers. But, their jeans were made for tall, lanky teens with legs shooting up to the armpits. As I browsed through endless shelves of jeans, I was a strange weed in an oasis of teenyboppers in tank tops, hoodies, short shorts, fleece drawstring shorts and pants. I was thinking, oh God, I am an old prune trespasser. I had to make a quick getaway to save myself from further embarrassment.

At one point, I tried on one of those skinny jeans. But like super low-waist jeans, it’s just not for everybody. I swear I looked like a bowling pin, and my butt seemed like Titanic. Oh well, I have accepted a long time ago that not every uso is for me. My jeans had to be straight and, or boot cut, but never long and lean and skinny. At this day and age, of course.

Looking for size 0 and short pair of jeans was a major spin for me. A total headache most of the time. But unless I wanna expand and burst forth into two (or three) pant sizes, (which I have no plans of ever doing), or unless I grow really tall and my legs would stretch, then jean shopping would remain to be a massive pursuit for me and a major pain for my hubby. (He still cannot fathom why I HAD to shop for jeans for an entire afternoon – no breaks, to add). I kid that the only thing that matters for men in jean shopping is if their size is available.

Last Sunday, I found a pair that I liked – dark, stretch, sits low on the waist, slim through the leg and thigh, subtle boot cut opening, in my size and only one pair left. I tried it on, and it looked and fit right. But then I had wanted to see more, to scout out for other size 0s out there. I’m that kind of shopper, but only when it comes to jeans and shoes – I had to scour every item in every store before I make the ultimate decision. And so, I left the pair in a corner under the green jackets (a marker, sort of).

I went into an epic quest for that elusive pair of size 0s that look, feel and fit just perfectly. I dared to take another chance in another teenybopper store. But still, no luck. So I traced my steps back to the store that never seem to fail me. And there it was – my pair of jeans- waiting for me. Finally, I found my perfect pair. It was a happy day….

Some days are good

Some days are good, some days are bad. And some, plain humdrum. On Sunday, we spent the whole day holed up at home, and I complained to the hubby how… quiet it was. Normally, I would prefer days at home muted and unperturbed. But yesterday was… just different. Traffic down below was hushed, and it felt like the whole world went away for a nap someplace. The hubby and I were catching up with some work while tuning alternately to 90s, 80s (and 70s!) music channels. But still the lull, was oddly dismal.

When I was a little girl, I could never comprehend why grown ups prefer to just sit down and talk, or just sit quietly for long periods of time. That was the time of inexhaustible energy – always running, stomping, cutting things, chomping away pretzels and stick bread. No time for talk, only for screaming. Don’t get me wrong, I haven’t turned my back to conviviality. It’s just that as I grew older, I look at peace and quiet as a reward, and not as a punitive measure.

First thing Monday morning, I managed to irk (unintentionally) an officemate. Two officemates, actually. They were in my face by 8:30 a.m. I could have griped and fussed, too. But then again, those two people were the two most unlikable people at work. They were perfectionist, nitpicking and tart. They want everything to be perfect. And God forbid, should a minuscule detail be off, a hissy fit is sure to happen. I wasn’t interested anymore to grumble. It was obvious I do not belong in their perfect world. And I am not even welcome there! Oh, well. If the “perfect” world is populated by people like them, I’d rather splash around in my imperfect world. Some days… are just full of drama.

Some days which start bad, turn out good. That, would be a perfect day. After a lousy Monday, I got a very good news. So I survived. I love quiet days. And I love days full of surprises, too.

Legends of the Fall

Last Monday afternoon, I spent a scant two hours watching Legends of the Fall on TV. I’ve watched this movie many, many times, and yet I still spent ample time holding back my tears. It happens all the time. The movie, is one of my all-time favorites. I liked the pre-Brangelina Brad Pitt. I think I don’t like Brad now – for a very valid reason. I’m not sure why after all these years, I still feel like weeping and mourning over the story. Was I being a fool?

I liked the sadness and the harsh mood of the movie. Unrequited love, troubled soul, pain and sorrow… an absolute, powerful sad story. I’ll never get over it.

What is it with me and sad stories lately? I remember, last Monday I had cried three times in a single day. Can I blame it to sad movies, the searing hot weather or am I just mad at the world?

last hurrah for summer

Back to work today. We decided to take the day off yesterday, Monday. David was kind of feeling under the weather, and a day off from a hectic workweek was undoubtedly the antidote. We did the usual lazy day stuff- woke up at 11.30 am, cheese omelette for brunch, an HBO movie, marathon reruns of Sex and the City (for me!) and just lying around, consumed by the gloomy weather outside.

David got stung by a jellyfish at the beach last Saturday. He had an ugly welt on his right arm, and he said it was a little sore. And when he called in sick yesterday, the whole office was under the impression that he was “attacked by a huge sea serpent”. I couldn’t stop laughing when a friend told us about it last night. Apparently, some kook, for whatever reasons, wrote on the bulletin board that David got bitten by that sea serpent something. Hilarious!

The sand at the Sandy Point beach last Saturday somehow reminded me of cheap polvoron we loved as elementary-school kids. The kind that was golden-colored and very grainy. We finally made it to beach after a whole summer of postponing the trip. Everyone couldn’t get a free, sunny weekend for the beach. Either the other couple is busy, or the weather is not okay, or we had other things to do, etc. Last Saturday was perfect- bright sunshine and cool breeze. I got toasted, but not baked. Darko (our friend) wanted to go to Ocean City, but Janet, his wife was not too keen in driving 3 hours just to get there. So the nearest beach we could find was Sandy Point. Only 45 minutes away from home. The beach had a great view of the Chesapeake Bay Bridge.

Darko’s nephew Stefan, frolicked on the beach like a pro. Just two years ago, he was hysterical when his mom or uncle tried to dip his feet on the water or plop his feet on the sand. Last year, he would play on the water’s edge, but would scamper away when a wave comes to the shore. But this summer, he’s a beach dude. Isn’t it amazing to witness that kind of growth? Now he’s almost four, and he’s trying to master the art of interrupting adult conversations. So funny.

Another trip that has been postponed for the nth time was the Lake of the Woods day trip. The lady from work, Katuko, who never gets tired of treating us to lunches, dinner, etc., planned to take us to Lake of the Woods for brunch and house hunting. Same thing happened- busy schedules, gloomy day, rainy day, etc. Last week, the weather forecast for Sunday was perfect- sunny in high 90s. So despite delay, the trip was on. But Mother Nature can change her mind anytime she wants. Sunday came and it was low 60s, gloomy and drizzly.

Rain or shine, we went there anyway. We had brunch at the Clubhouse- waffles, mealoaves, potatoes, pastries, bacon, fruits, omelettes cooked for you by a bored-looking chef, and a whole lot of other things. I just thought that chicken marsala was kind of out of place. All in all, it was a nice brunch. And we had a great time.

House hunting was fun. Katuko’s agent got confused whether all of us were her children. And nobody bothered to explain. We just let her assume we were there to help “mom” choose a retirement house. Our unanimous favorite was a two-bedroom house with a large front yard, a cute little porch, a spacious kitchen, a beautiful deck at the back that looked out to the golf course, and a larger backyard. The whole house had turtle trinkets everywhere! Turtles on deck, on plant pots, on table accents, front yard trimmings. The house must be owned by a crazy turtle lady, hehe.

It’s gonna be September in ten days, and very soon, it will be Fall. Where have all our summer days gone? Summer felt like it’s only ten sunny days. Oh well, there will be more summers to come. And whatever happens, I’m always looking forward to warm, sunny, long summer days.

A little recycling goes a long way

Global warming and recycling are two of the most pressing and significant topics right now. And although I wouldn’t label myself a hardcore environmentalist/activist, I care about the environment and I do my best in performing my part in saving the environment.

In my own little way, I take an effort to recycle, and do much with less. The hubby and I abhor seeing heaps of advertising papers which clog our mailbox everyday. It is also sad to see those fancy, thick glossy papers used for cable and internet advertising in the mail, and of course, those useless junk mail we receive on a daily basis. Wasting too much paper!

Doing a bit of recycling is meaningful on my part. It may not be enough, but I can say that I’m not adding up to the already wasteful ways of doing things:

- We try to use less plastic bags as much as we can when do our grocery shopping, and I use those plastic bags for the trash. I had never used those regular trash bags.
- I use old newspapers in blotting out oil from the frying pan.
- I have a lot of extra hand towels in the kitchen so that I will use less paper towels; especially if I just want to dry my hands.
- I recycle plastic containers from the supermarket.
- I am an avid recycle-r of boxes, or gift boxes. I collect and save boxes early on for birthday and Christmas gift boxes.
- I recycle gift wraps! (So sue me for being so inot (stingy)!
- I don’t drink coffee anymore so no one can ever accuse me of squandering those Starbucks venti cups.
- I am not so gung-ho in using disposable paper plates for dinner at home (for easy clean-up purposes). I’d rather spend an extra half-hour doing the dishes.
- One requirement in shopping- wrinkle-free fabrics. Less ironing, less electricity used.
- I use the back of the paper for taking down notes.

I hope I can do more in the future…

How do you recycle?

these pimples give me a headache

I’ve been having breakouts especially in my forehead area for the past month, and no matter how clean and refreshed I make my face, they seem to keep popping up like a party crasher. A nightmare. I have those tiny, tiny ones which really annoy me and I believe, the more I think (and worry) about them, the more they appear. Sometimes I feel my forehead felt like sandpaper.

They appear for a week, and then my skin gets clear again. And then they reappear after three weeks. Oh, zit emergency! Stress? Wrong facial wash? Looking online for remedies, I found this:

Aspirin contains BHA (Beta hydroxy acid) which is a powerful defoliant and great at helping unclog pores and clear blemishes. It's recommended that you use the Aspirin mask / scrub once a week.

Step 1: Take 6 - 8 uncoated aspirin tablets in cup or bowl and crush them in to a powder.
Step 2: Add a few drops of warm/hot water, aloe vera gel or honey, now stir until you have a thick white paste. You may need to add more water to achieve the right consistency.
Step 3: Spread over your entire face, sit back and relax for 10-15 minutes. You'll know when 15 minutes is up as the mask is likely to start falling off your face.
Step 4: Wash off the mask with warm water and a gentle cleanser, as you wash gently massage, the grains will help exfoliate and reveal softer, glowing skin.
Step 5: Gently pat your face dry.

I always have a bottle of aspirin in my tote, and so I was thinking, hmmm, would this actually work? Would I try it? I’m kind of apprehensive about the defoliant thing. Sounds like a potent thing to me. If case turns worse, I don’t want potholes in my face! If a tiny pill of aspirin can zap out a terrible headache, it makes me wonder how will it do to my puny pimples.

Hindi lang pang-headache, pang-pimples pa!!

I’ll think about it.

happy day!

Today, we are celebrating our 8th year as a couple. We’ve come a long way since 1999. And I am proud to say that after all these years, and after almost three years as a married couple, we’re still as fussy, as attached, as thrilled with each other as when we started. The love, respect and the need of each other has grown steadily and progressively over the years. I am so hooked on him.

I couldn’t imagine myself spending a day apart from him. Not ever again since we were away from each other for years in the past. I couldn’t imagine myself catching all those late-night movies without him. I couldn’t imagine cooking only for myself and not for him. I couldn’t imagine not having him to share with all the day’s gossips and goings-on before going to sleep. I couldn’t imagine myself being happy without him. Like I said, I am definitely hooked, addicted to him.

We’ve seen the best and the worst in each other, but we still love each other, anyway. We’ve been through several trials and difficult times, but we still have each other and so we remained strong. What I liked best about us, is that we managed not to scream in each other’s faces to settle a fight or an argument. To me, that is a rare accomplishment.

We try not to be standoffish when we irritate each other, and we try to hug, kiss and make up as soon as we can, before any glass (or plates) gets broken. We try not to be a sour, indifferent, irksome couple. And I guess, we’re very good at doing that…

To my baby, happy anniversary. You’re my best and worst habit, my happy thought always. And I love you very much.

Simpsons Couture

Don't you just loooove these....?

http://www.fashionista.com/2007/07/the_simpsons_go_to_fashion_week.php

stuck and snug

You forgot about them, and then you rediscovered them!

Isn't it terrific when the songs that you liked when you were still in your "-teens" are found again?! Ah, what a thrill. The hubby and I spent many nights last youtube-ing all those old songs that we liked. Why is it that when you're in your teens, you remember a lot of songs and the year they were popular? Right now, I am so out of touch. I left MTV-ville eons ago.

Here are a few of my favorite songs way back when.

30 and..............

30 isn't so bad. Lots of people would love to be 30… Especially the ones who are 40!

Today, I am 30 years and 10 days old. So far, so good. According to my hubby, I shall be branded a “cougar (in-training)”. Cougar or not, I think I’m loving thirty.

7/7/07 was reputedly my luckiest day. So we bought lottery tickets, and wished that we’d wake up millionaires the next day. (By the way, we won $10. Dang it.) I made my birthday noodles for lunch (rice and vermicelli noodles plus shrimps) for more lucky streak. Born in 1977, I am considered a Fire Snake. But according to Chinese horoscope, the year of the Pig is not lucky for me. Oh well, what peculiarizes luck? Million bucks? Getting ALL that you wished for? Winning the lottery? Getting filthy, obscenely rich?

For me, being lucky means waking up to a new day beside someone whom you genuinely love and care about, and not wake up next to somebody whose face you cannot tolerate. Luck means being able to go into the day well without the discomfort of physical pain and illness. It also means having peace of mind- free from nagging guilt, bitterness and resentments. Luck means having true friends who share your happiness and sadness, and not make you a slave of their own capriciousness and self-centeredness. Luck is being able to taste, feel, hear, see and touch all that comprises life- aches and emotions, warmth and chilliness, roughness and smoothness, relentless loudness and deafening silence, the sweetness, tanginess and bitterness of living, and to witness all the bright colors and all the gory details of life.

It was a pretty nice birthday weekend for me. The hubby took me on a trip to the “Kwik-E-Mart” in Bladensburg, MD. It was a treat for us huge Simpsons fans. And we went to the AT&T National golf tournament hosted by Tiger Woods at Bethesda, MD on July 8. We're a few meters away from touching Tiger Woods, hehe. And then of course, I had a surprise party on my birthday night! Our friends Darko and Janet threw the surprise bash for me at their house, and they conspired with my hubby. It was a nice party! Yummy food, a birthday cake with a conspicuous 30th birthday candle, presents (yay!), and margarita (of course!). Would it have been fun if I had a piñata, too?! Janet was so sweet because the day before, she told me she wanted to cook for my birthday, because I made her look bad (she doesn’t cook at all. Or at least, cooking is on the bottom of her list of favorite things). Ploy or not, I fell for it, and it turned out that most of our “non-family family” and friends were there. I felt loved. How many horseshoes, rabbit’s foot and four-leaf clovers needed to feel that cared for and doted on?

To be thirty and loved is not an unfortunate event at all. New expectations and newer perspectives await, taking in surprises and tributes from dear friends like this, and the new understanding that I am in a different stance in life, yet I am still “me” and I could be so much more! Thanks to all the people that I love, and love me, too. Especially to David and Mom.

in the old, old days.....

I once liked this song so much.... Listen to the lyrics. Well, I still like this song, and I'll share it with anyone who likes it, too... Remember the good old days? It was never lost, you know.....

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.