Speaking of shoes...

I need to stop using the "This is my Christmas/New Year's/Valentine's/birthday/April Fools'/Easter/whatever other occasion gift for myself" excuse. I think I'm covered til my 30th birthday. But hey, it's Christmas. Well, WAS. I promise, I will behave myself this year. I am going to stop using economy boosting as therapy/celebration. No to retail therapy for 2012. Bow. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Feliz año nuevo a todos!!!

Well, it's officially 2012. How time does fly. I'm sitting in our living room having my first cup of coffee for the year with my favorite oldies. We're going to John Hay later tonight to soak up the cold pine-scented air before I head back to Manila tomorrow night on the 10pm bus. Not a bad way to start the New Year. I was finally able to drag the oldies to the Hillstation at Casa Vallejo the other day. I've been trying to drag them there since last year's Panagbenga. FINALLY managed to convince them to go, thank God. It's a really nice place. Reminds me of the house I grew up in Guisad, along Ferguson Road, where everyone knew everybody else. Even the floors look the same, only more distressed than our highly polished hardwood floors. It's my New favorite hangout in town now. Well, I'll go back to my coffee muna. I think I wrote a review of the Hillstation sometime last year. I'm just too tamad to check right now. Hehe! Again, I wish you all a Happy New Year. Here's to a bigger, better, shining, shimmering, splendid 2012. To new beginnings, and pleasant surprises along the way. Sent from Yahoo! Mail on Android

Shoeseses!!! (Insert crazed look here.)

I’m sad. =( The thing about buying shoes (heels or wedges, specifically) in the afternoon on a scorching hot day when my feet are at their most monstrous is that when I attempt to wear them the morning after when it’s cold and balmy, it’s usually a teeny bit disappointing. I swear, I tried on those shoes and walked around the store in them just to make sure they fit well. I tried them on when I got home from the mall, and they fit perfectly. Now I don’t know if by some magical thingiemajig, my shoes got bigger, or my feet got smaller, but this morning, my feet looked like size 7’s in my size 8 shoes. Saaaaaaaddd!!! I hope insoles can do the trick though. I would hate for those really pretty shoeseses to go to waste. Or I can just wear them in the afternoon. In any case, I’ve wasted enough time thinking about them this last (half-day) workday of the year.

Anywayyy… I have to get back to my productivity program. I wasn’t able to do anything yesterday, c/o our office trip to Ying Ying Tea House in Binondo. YUMMMMMMMMMM. And it’s cleaner than Wai Ying. We also went to the Dragon Fireworks warehouse (also in Binondo) to check out the new (and expensive) fireworks they were selling. Well, Helen was the only one who actually bought anything. I think Joy is going back with her husband though. And I think Caloy is buying for one of his friends. As for me, though I find fireworks thoroughly fascinating, the thought of spending thousands of my hard-earned cash on them is a bit beyond my spending arena. Yes, I do have a spending conscience.

On another note, just an hour and 10 minutes left! I’m so eggzited to go back to Baguio! =D My bags are packed, I’m ready to go back to the boondocks. Hihi. Seriously. All I have to do is change out of this dress and into more practical travelling clothes. Nooninooninoo… An hour and 5 minutes to go…

(Wave)

It still seriously surprises me that people read my ramblings. Anyway, hello to everyone who does. Oh, and happy holidays! I hope you have a great time too. I'm heading back to Baguio after lunch tomorrow. Back to the coooooooooold. Wheeeeeeee!!! Too bad I missed the coldest night (so far) though. PAGASA says it will get colder, so, yay me! It's still so much hotter than last year though. I distinctly remember that sometime last year (or was it '09), there was a day that it was 6C in the middle of town, which translates to around 4C in Eaglecrest, where my aunt lives. Well, my jackets can hope it gets colder. They're all just wasting away in my closet. And with that, I bid you adieu, and again, happy holidays! =D

What to do in Ilocos...

I'm going to Ilocos with Tita Susan (and maybe Tito Efren, Jem and Shayne) Jan. 19-23. I'm so eggzited!!! I've never been to Ilocos, but I've always wanted to go. Everything's set. Hotel reservations confirmed and fully paid. Flight booked and confirmed. Airport transfers arranged and fully paid. Now I have to get to work on my itinerary... So far, my general plan is to do Laoag on the 20th, Vigan on the 21st, Pagudpud on the 22nd, and the remainder of the places near Laoag on the 23rd, since my flight doesn't leave until 9:30pm anyway. Anyone have any suggestions?

Si, yo puedo escribir en español.

It’s true. I imagine that to a native speaker, or anybody fluent in Spanish, my Spanish would probably sound like Manny Pacquiao’s English, but hey, I’ve been only been at his for a few months total, so cut me some slack. Next year, we’ll be enrolling in Nivel 10. We’ll be done with B1 by March, and hopefully, we’ll be able to take the B1 DELE in May. I’m keeping my fingers crossed. 

Nwy, I was going through my Instituto Cervantes files, and I found this. It’s a summary of a theoretical sequel to the movie El Juego de la Verdad. There are so many interesting Spanish films: Nada en la Nevera, Manolito Gafotas, etc. Another goal for next year, watch more TVE and Spanish films. I need to get back on track with my foreign language studies.

Okay, so, about the film, I also googled the summary (I can't remember writing it, so I suppose I copied it from somewhere.), but it’s in Spanish, so just Google Translate it or something if you don’t speak Spanish. If you do, I apologize in advance for my grammatical blunders. If Spanish is your mother tongue, from the bottom of my heart, I ask for your forgiveness for having butchered your language.

Alberto y Susana son la pareja perfecta. Guapos, con una intensa vida social, con un trabajo reconocido y con grandes planes a la vista: una casa nueva y una boda por todo lo alto. Alberto es subdirector de un enorme supermercado. Y Susana es la presentadora más sexy del telenoticias en una cadena de televisión local.

Ernesto y Lea son sus mejores amigos. Pero a ellos las cosas no les van tan bien. No tienen dinero, no tienen futuro, y desde luego no tienen planes. Él repite monótonamente las ofertas en un supermercado por megafonía en lugar de trabajar en la radio. Y ella tiene que hacerse pasar por sordomuda para hacer la traducción para sordos en un informativo en lugar de ser presentadora.

Pero todo cambia un buen día, en el que los peores presagios de Ernesto (hipocondríaco incorregible) se hacen realidad: a causa de un error médico que él mismo propicia sin darse cuenta, le diagnostican un tumor incurable, y le dan tres meses de vida como máximo.

A partir de ese momento, las vidas de todos ellos dan un vuelco espectacular y salen a relucir las mentiras y las medias verdades en las que viven inmersos. Susana descubre que Alberto en realidad no quiere casarse con ella. Lea se destapa como una chica fantasiosa que se inventa amantes para suplir la falta de estímulos en su vida. Y todos escuchan por boca de Ernesto cuál es el verdadero deseo que le gustaría cumplir antes de morir: acostarse con Susana, la novia de su mejor amigo...

Si hay una continuacion de la pelicula El Juego de la Verdad, creo que será sobre las niños de los protagonistas en la primera pelicula.

Después de su boda, Alberto y Lea pelearan mucho, pero despues, besaran y reconciliaran, como siempre. Su vida matrimonial nunca será aburrido.

Me imagino que Ernesto y Susana se casaran tambien despues de unos meses, pero es probable que su vida sea un poco aburrido.

Probablemente, las parejas tendrán hijos despues de dos o tres años. Alberto y Lea tendrán una niña que parece Lea, gracias a dios! La niña, se llamará Carla, tendrá una personalidad fuerte como su madre.

Ernesto y Susana tendrán un niño con pelo oscuro. Su hijo, se llamará Francesco, será muy introvertido.

Quizás los hijos de las parejas serán mejor amigos tambien, de su niñez. Al primero, Francesco, el introvertido, no tendrá coraje para decir a Carla que la ama, pero ella sabrá lo. Pero todo cambiará cuando Carla tendrá un accidente. Francesco realizará que si no dirá a Carla su sentimientos, ella podrá morir sin saberlo.

Francesco hablará con Carla en el hospital, dírala todo, y quedará con ella mientras se recuperará.

Un año despues, Alberto, Lea, Ernesto y Susana asistiran la boda de Carla y Francesco, y sonreiran.

Financial (ir)responsibility

Well, the title is actually a bit misleading. I do have savings, and a tiny mutual fund investment. I could do better, but, well, sometimes you just have to have some things.

One of the biggest hurdles I have to overcome when it comes to my spending habits is my ability to rationalize things, e.g. I need that hairstyler so I will never have to go to the salon to get my hair done again. / Ooooh, I need new flats. / Ooooh I need new heels. All my latest shoe purchases are flats. / Mom said books don’t count as expenses. I could go on and on and on. Seriously.

Well, it’s been raining cash over here since October, but the money flows in and then flows back out again. Just to illustrate, I racked up something like 2,000 points on my SkyMiles Mastercard just this Christmas season. And that doesn’t even include my phone and my new, errrrr, capital investment of new jeans and tops for casual Fridays. I was able to set aside 30k, but again, I could do better. But the Kenneth Cole watch was just too cute (and too cheap---it was on sale) to resist! Same thing applies to the Longchamp bag. And the three (yes, three) satchels---camel, light aqua, and a cross between navy and royal blue. And the carpet bag. And the three pairs of flats, three pairs of heels, and three dresses. And the dvd’s. And my Kindle (plus accessories). And my phone. And a lot of other things. Oh brother…

I always say that I don’t know where all the money goes. Aside from the Php24,000 for basic overhead (rent, bills, amortization payments, etc.), that is. Well, I was going over my receipts yesterday, and I kinda figured out where all the money went. First of all, I ended up spending somewhere between Php10,000 and Php15,000 for Christmas gifts. My Excel file says that I spent a bit more than Php10,000 as of the end of November. And I’m pretty sure I spent more. That’s the problem with early Christmas shopping. I always end up buying double or triple gifts for people (and therefore, for myself too).

AND. Good Lord. I was compiling receipts, and when I added everything up, egad, I spent Php20,000 this year at Powerbooks alone. No wonder the sales people are so nice to me. See, all those glossy Impressionist books went on sale during the third quarter of this year, and I just could NOT resist. Art books. Architecture books. Travel books. Interior decorating books. Cookbooks. Spanish books. History books. Comic books. Biographies. Autobiographies. The first AND the second World War. The Cold War. Spies. The American Civil War. Philippine History. The classics. JFK. Nixon. Carter. Bush. Obama. You name it, I probably have it. I even have one on Persian carpets, for crying out loud.

On top of my Powerbooks purchases, I also spent quite a bit at the Manila International Book Fair last September (or was it October? I forget.). Again, trivia books. The Beatles. The Forties, Fifties, Sixties and Seventies in Pictures. Elvis. Lost Civilizations. Famous battles. Wildlife. The Uncanny. I could go on and on and on.

I blame my mother for this. She always said books don’t count as expenses. Well, mother, you have created a monster. I spent two nights after work just trying to figure out how to arrange all of my books given my muy muy muy limited shelf space at home. But hey, they make me happy. And mother knows best. Wink wink.

So anyhow, to counteract my purchases, I started cooking and eating dinner at home. Yes, seriously. I think I’ve been doing the whole housewife thing for six weeks now, and I am very proud to say that everything has been edible. I might even say deeeeeeelish, but I need someone to confirm. So eggziting. I’m going to the grocery later to stock up for when I get back from Baguio after the holidays. The whole domestication thing is fun. I just really really hate doing the dishes. I’ll clean the bathroom, vacuum and wax the floors, but I seriously vehemently detest doing the dishes. (Insert frown here.)

So there. I aim to become more financially responsible next year: increase my mutual funds investment, maybe finally work on my stock portfolio. We’ll see.

Before Sunrise: the Victory Liner edition (aka Whatever, Grace.)

I've been travelling to and from Baguio for as long as I can remember. I must say though, my more than 10-hour bus ride from Pasay the day before Christmas eve is by far the most interesting commute I have ever had.

I've met a ton of interesting people on my semi-regular commute to the city I still call home. A couple of old lawyers, the granddaughter of Dexter of Dexter's Catering, a couple of old ladies, a funny nurse from the Supreme Court clinic (who I met again when I started working for the SC, and who I still talk to every so often), and most recently, this guy named Ryan. Well, I suppose that's his real name. (Projection lang. My I-don't-want-to-talk-to-strangers fake name is Rachel Dela Cruz.)

I got to the station half an hour before my day-before-Christmas-Eve trip to Baguio, sat down on one of the many black plastic chairs (whose backrests are placed so far back you never actually use them), and followed the loooooooooong queue of people at the ticket booth. I seriously wondered, as I still do, why people still did not bother to book their tickets in advance. I whipped out my Kindle and started on the first first few pages of Lisa Kleypas' Suddenly You. (Yeah, the one with 40 pages of foreplay. Lol.)

A few minutes later, the 3:00pm bus positioned itself in its designated slot, and I got up to hand over my luggage (a medium-sized suitcase and a huuuuuge plastic bag of Christmas gifts) to the bus conductor. There was another girl with a maroon Longchamp travelling tote (Yeah, I noticed. It was really cute.) and this guy in a leather jacket, sort of a taller, bulkier version of Noel, my mom's former student at the SLU Boys' High School back in the early 90's, bar topnotcher and my former officemate. Small world. But back to my story. I thought, oh, he's headed for Baguio, maybe they're related. Maybe he's Noel's brother or something. I put on my staring-blankly-into-space face while we were waiting for the conductor to get off the phone and open the luggage compartment. I snickered to myself when this old guy carrying a VERY BIG backpack passed in front of the doppelganger and he sort of cringed with disbelief. It was like looking in the mirror. I would have reacted the same way.

A short while later, the conductor came back to stash our luggage. When I boarded the bus, the doppelganger was standing in the aisle, looking for the seat numbers. The nice person that I am, I asked him what seat number he was looking for. He said he was in seat 6, so I pointed out the seat next to where I was going to sit. Once he got out of the way, that is. (Okay, so maybe being nice wasn't my intention, it was more that I was annoyed that he was in my way and I couldn't get to my seat. I hate it when people do that, hanging out in the aisle, corridor or whatever, blocking my path. Another pet peeve, when people walk the same way most people in this city drive, i.e. without direction, swerving every which way. Seriously, if you want to gawk at something, get out of the way.)

We settled in for the long ride. He took out his inflatable neck pillow, which kept on falling down. (Annoying.) At some point, it fell right at my feet, and I refused to pick it up. More specifically, I looked at the pillow on the floor, moved my foot away, and went back to bonding with my Kindle. I thought, Hey leather jacket dude, your pillow’s at my feet. Go pick it up. He stuck the pillow behind his neck and alternately tinkered with his iPhone and his iPad. Hmmmm… Not bad, leather jacket boy. But your jeans are still ripped. Ewwww.

A while later, he fell asleep, and I focused my full attention on reading my trashy novel. Because we all know how much brain work that entails. Haha!

An hour into our trip, my ungrateful tummy started growling, and not in the hungry way. I shouldn’t have had that last slice of pizza… I prayed to all the saints and all the deities to calm my churning insides. I did NOT want to go in any of the restrooms at the designated bus stops, and we were a loooooooong way from Baguio. Yes, God, I get it, I’m a bad person. I should have picked up his pillow. The pain came in nauseating waves, but gradually subsided into a little uncomfortable lull. I decided to sleep through it. When I woke up two hours later, we were thankfully along NLEX. Yep, 3 hours from Pasay to NLEX. When really, sans traffic, we should have been in Tarlac by then.

By the time we got to Pampanga, we still weren’t talking. I have to admit, I was a teeny bit miffed at that. Not that I wanted to talk to him. But I wanted to have the option to say no. Teeheehee. Come on, it's a normal thing. Plus my legs were starting to feel cramped. My tummy had by then settled into a simmering sort of murmur, but I decided not to eat anything yet. Ah, yes, the laws of matter.

A couple of hours later, we got to Tarlac. He got off first, and then I headed for the washroom. The doppelganger was busy eating at one of the tables. I decided I deserved a cigarette, so I walked over to the convenience store. Luckily, they had Marlboro Menthols. I started walking around the store looking for tissue, but I didn’t see any. I went back to check if they had any behind the counter, and ended up there at the same time as the doppelganger. He let me go first (Well that was nice.), but since they didn’t have any tissue or lighters, I just said thank you, and went to inflict some damage on my lungs.

Outside, I positioned myself strategically right smack in front of the bus. No danger of forgetting which bus I was supposed to board. I borrowed a light from one of the men at the wooden bench. The doppelganger arrived a minute later and asked if he could borrow a light. (Oh goodie, he smokes. No judgment there. Btw, I’ve actually sort of semi-quit, but since it’s Christmas, I decided to spoil myself.) So anyway, since I didn’t have a lighter, he asked if he could light it with the tip of my cigarette, which I reluctantly handed over. (Huh. Errrr, close tayo?)

He began our little chitchat by asking me if I was coming from Manila. I learned over the course of the conversation that Ryan he was (well, is) a civil engineer from La Trinidad working for an Austrian construction company in Japan. (Can’t remember what city though.) Smalltalk button switched on. Really? Both my parents are engineers. We talked about the earthquake and the tsunami, and how long it had been since he last went home. He hadn’t had Christmas here in six years, and hadn’t been home in two.

We boarded the bus, and continued our little chitchat about life in Baguio before there were so many people there. He told me he graduated from Boys’ High in 1993, but apparently had never been my mom’s student. I told him about the new places to go and where to eat in Baguio. He told me about his life alone in Japan.

By the time we got to Sison, it dawned on me that we were nearing Baguio. Good, considering we’d been on the road for hours, but a little sad, because I’d be saying goodbye to a new acquaintance-slash-friend (whose name I did not know up until that point). Yes, the conversation was that good. I so seldom meet people who are actually fun to talk to, and are worth talking to, that it’s a serious treat when I do. (The pathetic-ness of this statement has since dawned on me. - ed.) And I thought he was kinda cute, in that indescribably unique Baguio boy way.

And so, instead of going back to sleep, we just talked and talked and talked and talked some more for the last hour and a half of our trip. I should have slipped him my number or my email address at some point, but I was conflicted. Yes, according to Anna, natabunan na daw ang inner landi. (Facepalm. Toink.) I’ve been on a hiatus from this whole thing for so long, and I was just getting my sea legs back. (I used to be good at the whole subtle flirting (aka SF) thing. Ask Chi. I think I need more practice. Now to look for a willing victim...) On top of all that, I wasn’t even sure if I was just reading too much into the whole thing than I should have been. Maybe he was (is) married, or in a relationship. No ring though. (I think. I've never been good at checking. I usually just assume everyone's married, attached, or not worth my time. Which, given the fact that I work for the Supreme Court and live in Ermita, is a very wise and practical strategy.) Or maybe he was (is) gay. Very unlikely. Seriously.

When we got to Baguio, he helped me carry my things to the cab. We said goodbye, and Merry Christmas. A rather nondescript, unmelodramatic, and extremely anticlimactic end to my little Before Sunrise, Victory Liner edition.

P.S.

I thought I saw him in Baguio last night, driving a white sedan, but it was just a quick glimpse. I would have loved to talk to him a little more, or maybe keep in touch, exchange stories or something. But if he didn’t ask for my number, or at least my email address or twitter id, I guess that means something, right? I mean, I’m not that difficult to look up on the internet if he really wanted to get in touch with me. Oh wells. In any case, it was a very interesting ride to have been on. Who knows, maybe I’ll run into him in Baguio or on my way back to Manila after New Year’s. If I do, I am so definitely giving him my number. What he does with it is his call.  

P.S.P.S.

Okay, so I finally figured out the scientific explanation for this whole thing. It's hormonal. Hahaha! Happy New Year, everyone!

Eggzited!!!

Tomorrow, I have to be up and about at 5am for El Clasico. For the first time ever, a local tv station is actually covering it LIVE. Yay for football in the Philippines! I seriously dream of the day when the Spanish team comes over here. Hehe!

Anyhoo, I'm going to another birthday brunch at 11 with friends from law school. So that'll be fun.

What won't be fun is delivering all these presents to their intended recipients. They're all in piles now, sorted and tied according to geographical proximity. Don't get me wrong, I looooooooove Christmas shopping. This year, I actually ended up getting multiple gifts for a lot of people. It's just that tomorrow, I have to drop by Victory Liner and send two huge piles of presents to Baguio ahead of my trip, then I have to somehow also bring the piles of presents for C and her family, and my law school friends who are going to R's birthday brunch. Oh how I wish I actually had a car. But with the Christmas traffic, errrrr...maybe not.

Oh, and then, the sucker for romantic comedies that I am, I'm going to see New Year's Eve with N tomorrow after brunch.

And so goes my Sunday.

Another thing to be eggzited about, we get our Kindles on Wednesday!!! Woohoo!!! Yay for technology! I do expect a verbal reprimand for the amount of stuff I asked my stepmother to bring home from Chicago, but at least I'll get my Kindle sans international delivery charge, right?

I also learned today that my cousin C and her family are going to Baguio for Christmas. Yay! I have such a small family, and within that group, so few sane relatives that I treasure the very few and far apart days I get to see them. I really seriously can't wait to go home for Christmas.

Voldie no. 2

A few years ago, I cut someone off because I finally realized, after quite a few rebound episodes, that I was in a vicious cycle of a relationship that had long outrun its course. Well, this year, I have finally realized that I am, again, in another vicious cycle of yet another relationship that has, again, long outrun its course. You know you're not really friends with someone when he/she is consistently nice to everyone but you in spite of your uncharacteristic niceness to him/her. So there. It's seriously Voldie all over again. Well, minus the making out stuff. Ewwwww. The thought makes me shudder. anyhoo, I am editing my relationships this year, and this time, this one's for real. It's been exhausting trying to extend the shelflife of a friendship that I probably should have accepted has been over for quite a while. And the funny thing is, I'm not even sad about it anymore. Distance sooooooooooo does not make the heart grow fonder. It just makes you forget and move on with your life.

La vie en rose

The thing about responsibilities (actual or perceived) is that no matter how hard you try to shirk them or pretend that they don't exist, and whatever perfectly legitimate and valid reasons you may have for doing so, is that they always have a way of catching up to you. Or in my case, I simply decided to just take them head on.

Let me preface this post with the disclaimer that this is not borne out of angst. It is more of a monologue than anything, a somewhat more public form of thinking out loud. Maybe I should leave this private, but what the hell. Maybe it will help someone in the throes of the same issues.

Anna's brother Vince came over late this morning to evaluate my brother's condition. The prognosis was as I expected. Unlike many members of my family, after his 2004 bout with death, I never really believed he would ever fully recover. In a gesture of blind faith or folk catholicism, I visited churches, chapels, cathedrals and religious shrines, prayed, and lit enough candles to produce enough soot to blacken the whitest church walls. Think of it as somewhat like buying a lottery ticket. Most people don't actually believe a hundred percent that they WILL win, but they still gamble on the off chance that they do.

Going over my brother's latest medical records, I found myself a bit dumbfounded that it has been seven years since the (second) incident. That does not go to say that I do not care, or that I live in a fictional bubble. Much to the contrary, (and I do not, in any way exaggerate when I say this) not a day goes by that I do not think about what to do, how life will be, and what I should be doing to prepare for the day when I will have to step up to the plate. However, I have only recently returned to the fold to play a relatively active part in my brother's life.
 
I learned about incident zero when an uncle, my dad's brother, who I hate, by the way, texted (and then called) me while I was working on a final paper for one of my classes. I was in my senior year in college, I hated that uncle, could not wait to get off the phone and get back to my paper, and I detested the implication that it was somehow, for some reason, my fault. There I was trying to make something out of my life, and this bastard who knew nothing about me, and just plain knew nothing, was calling me in the middle of my in-the-zone moment, lecturing me. To be fair, during events like that, nothing the detested person says really registers as logical. I'm a fairly smart person, and I can justify any emotion to myself. At that point, I felt indignant, and I confirmed that I was right to be so. I got off the phone, went out to have a cigarette, and went back to the road to graduation.

The first incident happened right after my college graduation. It was 2003, and I had just gotten a letter from the UP College of Law that I had passed the Law Aptitude Examination, and I had been scheduled to be interviewed sometime in the middle of April. Back then, I had blinders on, and getting into law school was my finish line. No one and nothing could derail me from my track. I went home, but I never stayed long. I always returned to the dorm with my friends. I figured that my presence would not really make a difference anyway. It was not like I had fairy dust or some magical power that could make my brother rise from his coma. My maternal family had also advised me not to linger, by which advice I justified my intent not to stay. And I never cried. Not once. At some point, I seriously pondered why I hadn't, and I could not give myself an answer. Life went on for me. I had saved up for a suit and shoes to wear to my law school interview, and I went with C to Makati one day to purchase the armor that would eventually become standard equipment for my chosen profession. The day of my interview, I was more concerned with getting into law school than with what was happening back home. I had that tucked into a little box at the back of my brain, neatly stacked into the compartment labeled, "To be dealt with at a later time". And I did, after I'd finished my interview and had lunch with C at Kamirori. As my luck would have it, my brother awoke from his coma shortly after that.

A little more than a year later, it happened again. By October of 2004, I had developed a fear of phonecalls. Back then, none of my relatives really called unless it was urgent, and every time my phone rang, my heart skipped a beat in a tiny half-second panic attack. I stared at the screen for a second, took a deep breath, and braced myself for the bad news, which it always was.

That morning, I was sleeping, not so comfortably, I might add, on my makeshift bed in the tiny fourth floor walk-up I shared with C. It was a few weeks into our freshman year in law school, and we were a mess, literally and figuratively. We spent endless nights sleepless, falling asleep on top of our piles of photocopied cases, and hanging on for dear life. My college boyfriend and I had also just had a horrendously bloody (NOT literally) breakup. Long story short, I wasn't in the best shape. When my phone rang, and I saw that it was my cousin, I knew it was bad news. Deep breath. Hello? I hung my head, threaded my fingers through my bed-messed hair, took a deep breath... Ok... I put down the phone, stared blankly into space for a few seconds, and went back to bed. Sleep was so difficult to come by those days, and I treasured those little pockets of rest when I could just figuratively hide under a rock. So I again folded up the news I'd just been told and shelved it. When I woke up, I told C the news. And then I went back to my cases.

When my brother got out of the hospital, I went home to visit. It was frustrating, and frankly, too emotional, which I neither relish nor look forward to. He could hardly speak, and I could sense his frustration. And I cried. And I don't particularly like exercising my tear ducts. I decided I simply could not deal with the situation at that time, and anyway, there was really nothing I could do. Stop. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Fold. Compartmentalize. Ok, ready. Again, life, and law school went on for me.

It was many months later that I would return for a visit with some of my cousins. Again, too emotional. My brother and I never really liked my dad's relatives, and there he was stuck with them for lack of any other option. He wanted to go with us, but we couldn't take him. Too emotional. Can't deal. Stop. Wash. Rinse. Repeat. Fold. Compartmentalize. Ok, ready.

This happened every single time I went home. And it was always just for a few hours. I feared for my sanity too much to linger any longer.

And so life went on. Four years of law school, six months of bar review, a month of taking the bar. And then I offered my soul on the altar of law firm life. Whatever life that was. I hated it. I took every escape hatch I could. I went to my aunt's house in Baguio A LOT. At that point, my relationship with one of my cousins had soured so much that I just skipped going to Laguna altogether. Scratch that option. Also could not deal with what was happening back home. Scratch that option too. Since I wanted to get away from the city, that left Baguio. It was an expensive lifestyle that I felt was necessary for my sanity. Work was just about all I could deal with at that point. Two and a half years later, I'd had enough. I resigned from the firm and prepared to move to a less stressful job in the civil service.

It has been a year and a half since I joined the civil service. One might ask why I still had not dealt with the situation prior to this point. Well, first, I'd simply gotten so used to shelving it that I'd gotten comfortable doing so. Second, I really don't get along with my dad's relatives. I simply do not like them. And third, going back just brought back so many bad memories that I wasn't prepared to deal with. I did start getting my finances in order, in case I predecease my brother. (Yeah, I know, how mature of me. Whatever.) I've managed to achieve some semblance of financial order. Not much, but I'm at a relatively stable financial place right now. And I'm comfortable enough to discuss these things with A as I did with C. It's not exactly the easiest topic to broach with people. In fact, I've only told the closest members of the inner circle. Also, since Vince is leaving for Singapore on Monday, I had to fast-track things a little.

So now comes this prognosis. Now I know I really have to prepare. I have a few years to get everything in order before I have to take the reins. I sincerely hope I can do this, because frankly, I don't have a choice. Unlike some people, I do not see voluntary la muerte as an escape hatch. Don't take this the wrong way, I'm not a naturally altruistic person. In fact, I characterize myself as more selfish than selfless, in spite of all the spur of the moment charitable donations I end up making. I still detest that I have to do this, when I should just be concentrating on planning my career, and that trip to Europe I've been dreaming of since I was a pre-adolescent child. It was irresponsible of my brother to do what he did, consequences be damned, and now I have to suffer for it. I really detest people who don't know their place in the world, that there are certain unbreakable societal mores and rules, and that there is a time and a place for everything. Apparently, it's a fairly common occurrence for people, particularly those related to me, to NOT understand this concept. Ah yes, now I remember why I resigned from family duties. C'est la vie.

Long overdue responses to comments dating as far back as 2005

Oh boy. I seriously thought I tweaked my settings so Blogger would send me an email everytime someone posted a comment here. Apparently, I missed quite a few. I'm so sorry I wasn't able to reply. So. In case you still read this, I'll try to sift through everything over the weekend and reply where appropriate.

In any case, I just want to announce to the world (as this doesn't happen very often) that I was VERY productive today. Yay me! =D Tomorrow I do my final edit and work on my footnotes, and I'm done. One decision down for decision-making month. Wheeeeeeee!!! Whattanerd.

In memoriam

Ten years ago, I was having dinner at my then-boyfriend's house. It was his mom's birthday, and the entire family had gathered to celebrate.

Midway through dinner, one of his sisters-in-law, a lawyer based in New York, called and said to turn on the tv and watch CNN, as a plane had allegedly crashed into the World Trade Center. We all thought it was a joke. In fact, I think someone even cracked a joke about American pilots getting lost, taking a wrong turn, or something like that. We turned on the tv in the den, and we were chilled to discover that it WAS true. Someone HAD flown a plane into one of the twin towers. A few minutes later, another plane crashed into the other tower. And then another plane crashed into the Pentagon. A fourth plane also went down outside Pittsburgh.

So the world was plunged into a war the likes of which had never been seen before. Unlike previous wars, this one involved no tanks, no infantry, no airborne units or paratroopers. Unlike previous wars, in the war against terrorism, you never really know who and where the enemy is, and where and how they will strike.

I've never been victimized by an act of terrorism. Neither do I know anyone who has. I thank my lucky stars that although I had a number of friends and family in New York and DC, none of them were in the least bit physically harmed. Of course the terror is an entirely different story.

I cannot claim any real personal damage caused by 9/11. Except maybe that I can no longer bring shampoo on board a plane, or that check-in time takes longer now. In fact, I've never been to New York. I've never set foot in the U.S. I know only in theory what the World Trade Center towers symbolized to the city, and to Americans in general. What I do know is the pain of losing a loved one. Thus, though MY wounds have healed over time, the scars all but forgotten, every time I hear stories of people who never even got to see their loved ones one last time to say goodbye, people whose hearts still weep, my heart bleeds a little for them.

I am not a very religious person. But I join everyone in remembering the poor souls lost on 9/11 and their families. And I hope and pray that nothing like this ever happens again.

While my brain is on vacation...

So. Apparently, my brain is on hiatus. In lieu of productivity, in the final minutes of my workday, I googled "spanish la liga coverage philippines". Lo and behold, a treasure trove of links revealed themselves to me. According to the various online sources, ESPN Star has secured the broadcast rights to the Spanish La Liga for three seasons, 2012 to 2015. I couldn't be happier. Well, except if they'd announced that they'd acquired the broadcast rights to the 2011-2012 season as well. So anyway, that's my dose of good news for the day.

On another note, there are so many things coming up. There's the Manila International Book Fair, the 14th Cine Europa at the Shang, the Spanish Film Festival, Lisa Macuja's farewell performances, Libera, The Sound of Music, Mamma Mia, Stomp, BP's production of Sleeping Beauty, and, if I believe the rumor mill, Adele in December. Well, I don't think I'll be watching Stomp because tickets are unfortunately too expensive. I haven't bullied anyone into watching Libera with me yet, and I'm not sure if my theater/ballet buddies want to watch Mamma Mia and The Sound of Music. But hey, the last quarter of 2011 looks promising.

Happy fatdom

I treasure my quiet weekends. Particularly the rainy and/or overcast ones. I just order in, curl up in bed or on my couch with a good book or watch dvd's and thank my lucky stars for the absence of my main life stressors, at least for two days. Vegetating is so much fun. =D Last night, I watched Saving Private Ryan. Not as good as I remember. Today, in keeping with my period war theme, I've been reading Love Stories of World War II (compiled by Larry King). It's a surprisingly good read, with none of the literary equivalents of a grand cinematic gesture, e.g. a scene at the airport, the train/bus station, etc. These are just real stories of real people, at a crucial point in history. These stories took place 60 years or so ago, really not that long, but it really was a different time, antedating the Korean, Vietnam and Gulf wars, Martin Luther King, the heyday of terrorism, sanitary pads, the cellular phone, the internet, television (at least as we know it), and sex EVERYWHERE. It seems like such a picturesque era, the 40's. I mean, minus the whole issue of civil rights and women's lib, which I really do not mean to belittle.

Anyway, I think I'll go pop in an Audrey Hepburn movie now. I just bought a bunch of her movies on dvd. I also got a couple Grace Kellys and Elizabeth Taylors. And James Dean. Oh goody. Chau.

Si, hablo español.

Judith, Mark, Anna and I finally managed to stage our grand comeback to start nivel 7 Spanish class at the Instituto Cervantes last night. As always, the anticipation was worse. We'd been on a four-month long hiatus, and I was more than a tad apprehensive about going back when I'd barely touched my notes since April. I did, on occasion, leave TVE (Television Española) on while I was doing my chores, and read the occasional article and poem here and there, but for all intents and purposes, I'd forgotten how to conjugate, and the difference between preterito indefinido and preterito imperfecto. I was really excited though. I find learning a new language (and a new culture) just plain fun. More than one person has scoffed at me (literally) when they learned I was taking Spanish classes. One particular person said I was jumping on the bandwagon. (I wasn't even aware there was a bandwagon.) Another said he would never study the language of our erstwhile colonial masters. Yet another said he did not understand the status of Spanish as an elite language in the Philippines.

I really don't feel I have to defend myself or the language. I don't have any strong views on any of the issues these hellraisers put on the table. I just enjoy studying Spanish. First of all, I've always been fascinated with Europe and its colorful history. Second, as my great-grandfather was Spanish, my grandmother and her family spoke it fluently. (Yeah, I know, hindi halata. =p) Anyway, it eventually went out of fashion in the family, but my grandmother and my aunts cursed in Spanish, so really, the first Spanish words I picked up were, naturally, the cuss words. My mom started teaching us the language when we were kids, but her early death effectively put an end to our lessons.

I spent a great deal of time buried in books when I was a kid, and I became really fascinated with history in general, Europe, and how our history was inextricably linked with theirs. Naturally, I have misgivings about the whole issue of being colonized, but what good would it do anybody to start banging on the table half a century later? Besides, why blame the descendants for the abuses of their ancestors?

Fast forward to 2010 and the World Cup. I was rooting for two teams: Italy and Spain. However, when Italy was booted out early after that heartbreaking loss to Slovakia (against whom I still hold a grudge), I focused on La Furia Roja. I must admit, my interest in football was rekindled by that gorgeous specimen of man, Fabio Cannavarro. I don't think anyone can deny his appeal. Or his talent. (Well, his last World Cup appearance didn't go too well. At least they won the 2006 World Cup.) BUT. The beautiful game really does deserve its monicker. Although of course, human as I am, I cannot deny that the parade of gorgeous men makes football infinitely more enjoyable to watch. (Wink wink)

So anyway, my Spanish boys won the 2010 World Cup. (Yay!) And so was rekindled my love affair with Europe, and Spain in particular. We signed up for classes right after the World Cup. It most certainly helped that the Instituto Cervantes de Manila was a hop and a skip away from the office. A year later, we're enrolled in intermediate level classes, and I'm still determined to continue. I also plan to study the other Latin-based languages: French, Italian and German. I also eventually want to learn Catalan, in the hopes of being able to meet Cesc Fabregas and the rest of the Barca boys someday. =D See, I plan to make it to Spain and the rest of Europe by my 30th birthday, on my own or with friends, and obviously, I don't want to go around like a fool asking everyone, "Habla ingles?"

Bueno, en fin, creo que voy a poder a ir a España el año que viene, o al menos, antes de mi trigésimo cumpleaño. Cruzo los dedos. =)

Building my personal library =D

I am currently reading/browsing through at least 5 books and an ebook. My dad doesn't believe me, but I am. Seriously. I still haven't been able to find an actual physical copy of Band of Brothers, and I have terrible EQ when it comes to these things, so I'm reading the ebook on my phone. I also have the ebook of the Spanish translation, which I fully intend to get around to soon. (When I started taking Spanish classes, I promised myself I'd read the Noli and the El Fili, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Neruda, and Isabel Allende in the original. So now I'll add that to my list.)

I'm also reading Not Becoming My Mother by Ruth Reichl, Pablo Neruda: Late and Posthumous Poems (1968-1974), A History of the Philippines: From Indios Bravos to Filipinos by Luis Francia, Oriental Carpets and their Structure: Highlights from the V&A Collection by Jennifer Wearden, Treasures of Greece by Emanuelle Le Pommelet, and Ancient Egypt: Art amd Archeaeology of the Land of the Pharaohs by Giorgio Agnese and Maurizio Re. All very interesting and very good books. I can't wait to move on to the rest of my stash. Obviously, I overspent on books last month. And the month before that. I blame my mother. She always indulged us when it came to reading material, so I now I feel my expenses are justified. The past month, I probably bought more than two dozen books. A quick glance at the pile yields an estimate of AT LEAST three dozen. I kid you not when I say I overspent. I'm running out of space to put them. A good number have ended up eating half the space on my dressing table.  But hey, they make me happy. And having been a student on a meager allowance for so long, I haven't always been able to afford to buy the books that I want, so allow me this little indulgence.

Kaputski

I officially gave up trying to be friends with someone today. I still can’t quite figure out what went wrong and where. That, ladies and gents, is what I get for trying to be nice. I guess we’ve just grown apart so much that whatever we have left in common neither of us can stretch far enough to justify friendship. I always thought we were better than that. ‘Guess not. While we may always run in similar circles, we’ve become too different, and too set in our ways, i.e. stubborn, to even consider budging from our little niches. Oh well. C’est la vie. And yes, that cancels all present and future plans.

Priorities

At the height of our World Cup insanity last year, we decided to sign up for Spanish classes at the Instituto Cervantes de Manila. A week into Nivel 1 Spanish, and stuck in horrendous Mandaluyong traffic, A and I tried flexing our VERY LIMITED vocabulary, and with N's (and an English-Spanish dictionary's) help, managed to formulate the following sentences:

(1) Quiero otra dia y para siempre contigo.(Variation: Quiero mañana y para siempre contigo.)

(2) Somos turistas Filipinas. Viajamos muy lejos para un beso. Besame! Besame mucho!

Yeah, I know. Insane.

Corregidor Adventure Vouchers For Sale

Hi guys. I'm selling 3 Pakyaw.com.ph vouchers for the Corregidor Adventure. I bought them for Php998 each, i.e. at a 52% discount, and I'm reselling at the same price, as I won't be able to use them.

The vouchers are valid Thursdays to Sundays, August 16 to November 30, except national holidays. You can get the details here: http://www.pakyaw.com.ph/team.php?id=118.

Text/email me if you're interested. =)