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. =)

Catching up

I find it oddly disconcerting when I find myself clueless about something that everyone knows or can do. I never really learned to ride a bike. I tried, but I kept on falling off and scraping my knee I gave up on it. I also never really learned to skate, because I kept on falling on my butt that I gave up on that too. I did learn to swim, and I did so pretty well until late high school, but much to my horror, in college, I all of a sudden started panicking everytime my head was underwater. Now I know psychologists will have a field day with this, psychoanalyzing and all. I just take it as it is. I know I missed many things that regular kids take for granted while I was growing up. While everyone else had a tailor-made childhood, I had to make one up for myself. I used to blame my dad for the not too well-planned map of my childhood and adolescent years, but I know now that he did the best he could given his own resources, his nature, and his upbringing.

See, my mom died when I was very young, and I missed out on all those mother-daughter moments. It was from home ec class that I learned about what to do when I got my period, how to set a table, how to iron clothes, wash dishes and all those domestic things. I had to seek out my peers for support when I started to see boys in an entirely different light. I never got to ask my mom what books or what music she liked. (I just knew she had an Archie, Nancy Drew and Casper collection when she was younger.) I was to busy being a kid to really get to know her as a person. And I'm well-adjusted enough to know that it never would have been possible to have it any other way. Any other way would have just been wrong. And so after my mom died, I had to figure things by myself.

Of all those things I never got to do with my mom though, one of the things I regret most is that I never got to watch old movies or read the classics with her. There have been so many literary classics and old movie references over the years that I never really learned were such until I willed myself to catch up with the rest of the world. My dad wasn't really into all of that stuff, not that I hold that against him. That's just how he is. So anyway, I tried to figure out what I should have watched, what I should have read, and I willed myself to learn. At this point, I think I've come to the point of substantial compliance in that aspect. But I'd still really want to learn all those other things I missed out on. AND play the piano, the cello or the violin. And travel. And a lot of other things.

Rant for the day

I take it personally when people remember me only when they need something from me. I take even more offense when the person/s involved happen to be related to me. It is frankly very disappointing when in the midst of asking me for a favor, and not a very legal one at that, I somehow find myself at the receiving end of a not-so-thinly-nor-well-veiled hint that I should be responsible somehow for certain individuals, and that I am somehow remiss in such imaginary duties. While it may admittedly be selfish of me, distancing myself from a very unstable little miasma, a seemingly incessant cacophony, I have found it preferable, and yes, even necessary, for my emotional and psychological health.

Simply put, certain people were driving me insane, and I decided to take a step back from the whole thing. And I don't think there's anything wrong with that.

In my defense, I HAVE tried to be a responsible little underling. Long story short, it didn't work.

For a long time, in blatant defiance of my better judgment, I sacrificed all the resources I had--time, money, my emotional and psychological health...I even in effect put my career on the line--trying to be the definition of a responsible member of the family. I felt compelled to do so, and though my wallet, my bank account and my body told me it wasn't feasible, I persevered when the people who should have been there were not. I finally came to the end of my hyper-extended rope when I had to bite my tongue, literally, and stick my head in the toilet (not literally), to NOT lash back in response to a long litany of allegations grounded on something I maintain I did not do. I convinced myself it was beneath me to descend to that level. I may as well be disbarred for all the indignity that would have required me to channel. At that point, I had to put my foot down. Frankly, I just couldn't take it anymore. I just would not have been able to live with myself if I had allowed myself to be treated that way. And I have been infinitely happier and more content with my life since then.

Until today. Until that phone call.

I don't know why it even bothers me in the least bit. I've been anticipating the backlash for a while.
Oh well. Whatever. I guess the most important part is that the people who matter understand why I do what I do, and why I refuse to do what I have not done. I don't think I need to explain or to defend myself to anybody.

Maintaining a relationship is a two-way street. I don't see why everyone seems to be blaming me. I am not anybody's keeper. I know I'm more emotionally stable than certain people I refer to, but it doesn't mean I have to bear more than my fair share of the responsibility pie. I also do not get why I sometimes sense that this subject begrudges me whatever I have accomplished in my life thusfar (which, by the way, is not much). All of this was not handed to me on a silver platter. Au contraire. I worked very hard to get where I am (which, again, seriously, is not anything to be envious of). I really just don't get it what I'm being berated for. Or maybe I do. And now I finally understand what my place is exactly. And how people see me.

And this, my friends, is precisely why the phone call was a phenomenally bad idea.

Golf and beer

Well, I finally got around to starting to learn to play golf earlier today with A, C and E at the Villamor driving range. C and E brought clubs, but whoa, lo and behold, E actually bought an entire set of shiny golf clubs. Wow. Shiiiiiiiiiiiny. Purrrrty. C, on the other hand, bought golf shoes (Php8,000!!!) for today's driving range session. AND a new golf bag. AND a couple of clubs. All of this bodes well for me and A though. At least we can just mooch off of them. Details tomorrow. Have to go sleep if I intend to get up early enough to go to work tomorrow. Upping my productivity level again. I think I have sufficiently faded into the background. Teeheehee. Yeah, I think I'm just flattering myself. So nwy...

Current mood: melancholic

It's Fathers' Day today. I remembered. Dad forgot. So he cancelled on me, and I'm spending the long weekend at home resting, reading, watching dvd's I promised myself long ago that I'd finish. Good gloomy rainy weather to boot.


Given that I love long weekends, gloomy weather, staying in, reading and watching movies,one would think that I would have loved this particular weekend, but for some reason, I felt different. Maybe even sad. And I don't know why. Or maybe I do and I just refuse to acknowledge it. Which is how I deal with most problems. I simply push them aside until I absolutely HAVE to deal with them.

It would have been perfect had it not been for this one message I got on Facebook from this random relative of mine. I get so much pressure from so many people to spend time with them that sometimes I just want to pack up and disappear. I do have a life, you know. I can't just shuttle around between and among relatives just to make them all happy. I don't understand why they have to demand, in not so many words, that I do. It's just so frustrating. It's like they don't know me at all. I have this passive-aggressive thing going on, which I really can't help. When they don't demand, I go and do whatever it is. But when they start demanding and becoming clingy, I run.

Personal day

Well, as I said, I have been trying do dial down my productivity level at work, just so I don't appear to be too competent. (Haha! Right...) I don't want to be the biba kid at work. I just want to do my job. So when I woke up late this morning, instead of just taking the morning off, I decided to skip work altogether. See I put on my Friends Season 8 dvd while I was drying my hair, and I got so engrossed in it I lost track of time. By the time I checked my watch, well, let's just say, I'd have to be begging to get fired if I'd gone to work that late. And so I ended up finishing season 8 today. I love that series. Reminds me of so many things. I remember watching it all throughout my teen years. Good thing I was never an impressionable teenager, right? Lol.

So anyway, today was great, particularly since I somehow lost half my weekend last weekend. I had dinner and (milk)tea with C and N Friday night. We went to our favorite Greek restaurant (not there are very many Greek restaurants here in Manila), Cyma, over at that new Eastwood mall. It's reasonably priced, and their food is pretty good. And Eastwood is so much less stressful than Greenbelt. Although I do miss how it was before they built all the condos and the mall and the call centers. It was so much more laid back then. There was a time when literally every single time I set foot in that area, I'd run into at least a dozen people I knew from college or from law school. Well, suffice it to say that I didn't see a single familiar face while we were there. And we were there a while. It's kinda sad, when I think about it.

On another note, I recently discovered that Serenitea has a taro-flavored concoction. Yay! A friend of mine said, in response to my good news (Well, it was good news to ME.), that it was like melted Quickly. Yes, Anna, good one. It is soooooo not. How do I know this? Because being the tamad person that I am (Bruno Mars's The Lazy Song is the song of my life. On weekends, anyway. And days like today.), I had Serenitea delivered Saturday night. AND since they had a minimum delivery amount of Php250, I had to have three large milk tea concoctions delivered. Ugh. I just had the last one today. Finally. I feel like I've been sweating milk tea. And it's not even the kind I like. Well, except for the taro one. I'm more into the milk tea they serve at the hawker stalls at Makan Sutra in Singapore. Or the one they serve at my favorite hole-in-the-wall dimsum place, Wai Ying in Binondo.

More happy news, I got to spend some time with my C, my roommate of ten years, and N, C's sister, and my roommate of two (or was it three?) years, and also a close friend of mine. We all went to N's place to watch Boston Legal and we all slept over after, while C's husband bid his sweet time at Republiq, the current flavor-of-the-month bars here. Well, one of THE MANY. (Reminds me of that ominously abandoned building that used to be Po Na Na.) It was a fun night. I don't think I've spent that much time with them since before the wedding. Good times.

Oh, and speaking of weddings, or, well, something sort of related to it, I just saw He's just not that into you on HBO, and like I tweeted, that movie is a classic example of how girls sometimes are reaaaaaaaaaaaally psycho about overanalyzing things, and guys, being the guys they are, are just plain clueless. Good movie though. I didn't know Rachel from Something Borrowed also starred in it. If you're a movie person, don't judge me. I choose the books I read, the music I listen to, and the movies I watch based on entertainment value. I don't really care for the more -ahem- "sophisticated" artiste-ey stuff that I roll my eyes at. Classic example, I once tried to read Faulkner's The Sound and the Fury when I was in law school. I decided I needed a break from jurisprudence, so I dropped by National Bookstore, and lo and behold, it was on sale. Yup, bad sign. So anyway, I covered it and curled up in bed with it. A hundred pages later, I was sound asleep. I tried to pick it up again the next day, didn't work. I ended up reading a trashy novel.

On a related topic, to the subject of weddings, I mean, not trashy novels, my other college roommate, M (actually C, but since I already used C, let's call her M), is getting married in September to this redhead lawyer guy from New York. My good friend N, who now lives and works in NYC tells me the wedding will be in Virginia. So exciting. Although a bit unsettling that of the four of us college roommates (if I don't count A, who was only our roommate until mid-sophomore year, and who , by September, I'll be the only single one. Not that I'm set on going down THAT road. Quite the opposite. Still merits a little "Huh." though. Have to find out if they're registered or something. I have to get her a bridal shower gift and a wedding gift, since I won't be able to go to the wedding. Sad, I know. Wasn't able to go to our other college roommate T's wedding too, as I was working for scraps then. This time, I can't afford to go traipsing around to the other side of the globe. I would if I could though. M is one of the nicest kindest people I know, and she really deserves every good thing that has come her way. I really couldn't be happier for her. And she looks so in love! And her fiance looks really seriously in love with her. And he looks like a good person. As he should be. She deserves it.

So anyway, gotta go chat with N and catch up. We have a love-hate relationship that one can only have with really close friends. We fight a lot, but I think that's only because we know that in spite of the harsh words, we both always mean well. We just have a really blunt way of delivering the truth. And we can both be insensitive sometimes. But that's ok, because we always end up friends after the fights anyway. And no, nothing going on there. That would be like incest or interracial (and by that I mean me and E.T.) sort of...something. And with that, I bid you good night.

P.S. I didn't bother to check this for grammar and spelling. Bear with me, kids.

One random Tuesday in the life of a -ahem- normally abnormal person (wink wink)

It has been simply scorching recently. I really can't feel that summer's over. I mean save for the occasional localized thunderstorm. It is HOOOOOOOOOOOTTT in Manila. Earlier today, my Google Desktop weather widget read 34 degrees. Yep. 34. And it already read 32 at 9am. Kill me now please. It really doesn't help that I'm trying to finish this batch of sunblock so I can get a new more tropic-friendly batch. I used to be able to use the Faceshop SPF 50 or the Neutrogena Dry-Touch ones but since I developed an allergy to the new lotion I decided to try out (that Myra E thingo---I think the scent they use is too strong. I got rashes after using Victoria's Secret lotion for two weeks straight last month. So non-doctor, non-chemist little lawyerly me thinks it's the scents.), and revert to my trusty Jergens Soothing Aloe lotion, I need a new lighter sunblock to layer on top of it. Under rays THAT harsh, trust me, even melanin-rich people like me need it. I don't want to be a shriveled old skin cancer-ey prune when I'm 50.

One last note about the heat. I don't know if it's just me, but it seriously seems to get hotter around 10pm. I generally get home between 5 and 6:30, and I usually survive with just the fan running. BUT when 10pm rolls along, it's like a warm blow dryer aimed at my back. Ewwwww.  I really seriously hate the heat. I miss Baguio weather. It's always so nice and cool and crisp there. Well, the CBD smells like diesel, but the outskirts are still pretty good.

So anyway. I got two happy things in the mail today. First off, I the Mandatory Continuing Legal Education (MCLE) Office mailed me my compliance certificate. I am officially MCLE compliant for the fourth compliance period, i.e. until April 15, 2013. So yay me! =D

Second, I got the book I ordered from fullybookedonline.com. They didn't have Schindler's List the book, so I got Searching for Schindler by the same author instead. Looks pretty promising. The book wasn't in the best of shape, but it'll do. Consider it my punishment for another impulse book purchase. I promise I will refrain from book shopping until I've finished all the ones I've already bought. And yes, I say that every single time I buy a book.

Oooooh, and I just bought seasons 1 to 9 of Family Guy. I loooooooove that cartoon. I can totally relate to Stewie Griffin the murderous little tot. Hehe! Can't wait to get started on that. I have to make time for it this weekend. Although since we're having our weekly office thing in Makati, then I'm having lunch with Lorr and the girls Saturday (and I'll probably be meeting Chi for coffee after), and I plan to sleep a good chunk of Sunday away, I'll have to check where I can fit that into my lethargic schedule.

Speaking of lethargy, I've been so unbelievably efficient the past month I decided to take it down a notch today. I took a good chunk of the afternoon off to read the latest Kristan Higgins novel, My One and Only. I just finished it a few minutes ago. There really is nothing like good chick lit. A little heart pinching here, a little (but not too much) drama there, and a really refreshing style of writing = good read in my book. I love the way Kristan Higgins writes. It's so light and natural, and sooooooooooo different from those basura trashy novels, which, incidentally, I also read. I wonder when her next book will come out. Meanwhile, I'll read the rest of the Emily Giffin books. I recently finished Something Borrowed and Something Blue. I have to admit, I have a new appreciation for chick lit.

Tomorrow, I'll check if my dibidi person was able to get the ones I ordered. She wasn't able to get the movies, so I just ordered Band of Brothers (which I've already seen twice or thrice but cannot get enough of), Spartacus, and Game of Thrones.

And now it is time to turn on the AC, take a shower and turn in for the night. Whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy is it still so hoooooooooottt???

Notable events this week

First, I blew a huge chunk of my disposable income this month on books. I got these:
 
Ilustrado (Miguel Syjuco)
The Intimate Adventures of a London Call Girl (Belle de Jour)
Hiroshima (John Hersey)
Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
Like Water for Chocolate (Laura Esquivel)
 Love in the Time of Cholera (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
One Hundred Years of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
Daughter of Fortune (Isabel Allende)
The Pacific (Hugh Ambrose)
A History of the Philippines: From Indios Bravos to Filipinos (Luis H. Francia)
The Monuments Men: Allied Heroes, Nazi Thieves,and the Greatest Treasure Hunt in History (Robert M. Edsel)
Memories of My Melancholy Whores (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)

Oh, and I just bought Searching for Schindler (Thomas Keneally) online. I'll probably get it early next week. No, I didn't spend as much as you think. Many of these I bought from a sidewalk vendor in front of the Court of Appeals. I know, only in Ermita will you see sidewalk vendors selling (and knowing about) Paulo Coelho, Gabriel Garcia Marquez, Isabel Allende, Laura Esquivel, CS Lewis and the like. And these are books in pretty good condition. And this is me talking. My books are my babies. Yeah, I'm kinda psycho like that. =p

In any case... Pretty good variety eh? =D Some of these I've actually read before but I decided to get a copy for myself now that I can afford to. I mean, as opposed to when I was a poor peasant student surviving on a meager allowance. Besides, this is all in the interest of intellectual enrichment and doesn't really count, right? I mean, the fact that I love reading is just the cherry on top.

Second, I finally received my Cath Kidston catalog yesterday. Yay! They actually sent me one from London. I really thought it wasn't coming, but hey, good surprise guys. I really love their prints. I wish they'd open a store here in Manila, but then again, I thrive on some semblance of exclusivity, so okay, scratch that. They already sell imitation Cath Kidston bags in SM, much to my chagrin. Ugh.

Third, our nth office lunch was yummmmmmyyyyy. =D Last week, we tried Chicken Charlie along Adriatico, and Tao Yuan along that little street perpendicular to Adriatico near the Pan Pacific Hotel. Next Friday is Little Tokyo dinner night. I think the week after that is reserved for dinner at another place in Makati. Uhuh, we looooooooove to eat, and it really helps that we all get along. The lawyers, at least. I'm really going to miss those guys when I leave.

Fourth, in keeping with my current fixation, I ordered a bunch of dvd's from my friendly neighborhood dibidi person:

Band of Brothers
Schindler's List
Life is Beautiful
The Pianist
The Thin Red Line
Inglorious Basterds
Empire of the Sun
Saving Private Ryan
The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas
Anne Frank
Enemy at the Gates
Family Guy
Saturday Night Live

I'll probably get them next week. And yes, I threw in the last two to break the seriousness of the war movies. Sands, JV and I (and maybe Jingo, if he's up to it) could possibly get together for a movie marathon one of these days. Yeah, we're such nerds. Teeheehee.

Fifth, I finished another draft this week. Yay for productivity, me! =D Although there was a bit of an incident when someone deleted like three quarters of my footnotes while editing my draft because she misunderstood my boss's instructions. My draft returned to me with gigantic blanks in the footnote section. I mean, what's up with that, right? Please do not mess with my footnotes. I put a great deal of effort into making sure that I don't accidentally plagiarize material, you know.

Lastly, on a more domestic note (and this is probably too much information...you may zone out now...), I finally got around to cleaning the bathroom and changing the curtains today. I mean, my apartment is always clean by other people's standards, but I don't want to wait until it gets dirty before I clean it. I'm OC like that. =p So anyway, since I was cleaning anyway, I changed my sheets and my throw pillow shams and cleaned the whole place. By the time I was done, it was too late to go out and do anything else, so I decided to finish the last few episodes of Friends season 7 after my well-deserved shower. I really really love that show. I wish they'd do a reunion special or something.

So anyway, that's the gist of my week this really scorching week. Seriously. It was so hot and humid. To think that the local weather bureau announced the start of the rainy season LAST WEEK. Tsk tsk tsk... The sun was so fierce I actually remembered to use sunblock on my arms and legs. (I usually just remember to use sunblock on my face.) That's also why I remembered that I had to change my curtains. Since my bed is right beside my window, I literally have sunshine streaming through my window every morning. In cooler climes, I guess that would be a good thing, but man, in this city, not good this time of year. I've been consistently forced from my slumber by sunlight at 6:30am everyday this week. And I have cursed the sun everyday. Borrowing that Thought Catalog guy's phrase, Sleepy Grace has no morals.

And I have successfully shaken off most of the soul damage watching Schindler's List again has brought upon my psyche. I'm hungry.

On war and whatnot

I'm watching more war documentaries on the Discovery Channel. This one is about Bill Genaust, the Rosenthal photo and the surrounding controversy and the Battle of Iwo Jima. The one before that was colored footage of the war in the Pacific (the Battle of Midway, Pearl Harbor, etc.). I don't know why I keep on watching this stuff when I know from experience that it never bodes well for me.

Like most people in Asia (well, probably), the only war I feel personally connected to in some way is the second world war. It's the most recent one that people I have had personal contact with have any recollection of. AND it was actually partially fought on Philippine soil.

See, I have this morbid fascination with war. And no, I don't LIKE it. I mean, aside from weapons manufacturers, who does, right? I've seen and heard about how horrific and bloody and just plain cruel war can be. My grandparents and their entire generation lived through the war, and as I'm the only one in my generation who seems to be interested in how they lived their lives prior to their having become parents to our parents, my grandmother has told me many a story on random sunny afternoons that I spent sitting across from her at the dining table while she had her afternoon coffee and cigarette.

My problem with watching war movies or documentaries is what I call the Schindler's List effect. The movie came out sometime in 1993, but I only got to watch it when I was in high school. Back then the internet was still in its infancy, and yes kids, there were no dvd'd yet. Well, at least none that I knew of. So after class, I dragged my brother to Video City (or was it ACA Video?) to rent a VHS tape of the movie. I was so excited to see it as it had caused a bit of a ruckus when it came out because of some nudity. This was the early 90's when stuff like that (and as I recall, actresses wearing one-piece bathing suits onscreen, and the song Let's Talk About Sex by Color Me Badd) merited frontpage news. But I digress. You know how sometimes you watch something, a movie, a speech, and you're somehow moved so much that there are no words to speak, but for some reason, you feel that you have to write? well, that's what the Schindler's List experience was for me.

I was aware of the Holocaust, as my mom didn't think it inappropriate to discuss with us. She taught me to read when I was 2, Chemistry and Physics when I was 5, and Hinduism and Buddhism when I was 7, so might as well teach me world history, right? So anyway, just hearing about the atrocities of the Nazis was so different from seeing it onscreen. I was so bothered by the whole thing that I cried my eyes out. I think I wrote a dramatic entry in my journal that night.

I wonder how life would've turned out if Germany HAD won in Europe and Japan had won in the Pacific. Would we all be speaking Japanese? And would the French and the British be speaking German? What would the implications had been for this country?  Seriously. I really wonder.

Well, I think that's enough rambling today. I'll get back to my morbid fascination now.

Hello everyone!

I just started checking the stats on this blog today, and hey, what a surprise. People actually read it. Lol. So anyway, hello everyone!

Happy Mothers' Day!

I greeted my mom friends today with this message:

"To all you brave souls with an exceptional tolerance for pain, Happy Mothers' Day!"

I didn't want to be all mushy on Twitter or on Facebook, so I'll just say this here.

Happy mothers' day Mommy. I miss you everyday. I wish you were here. When I count the years we spent together, they seem so few. I've known many of my friends for far longer than I knew you. And I never got to know you as a person. I only knew you as my mom, the smiling face that would wake me up in the morning and greet me when I got home from school. Who stayed with me at the hospital for a week when I got sick, and made me feel loved at a time when things weren't going very well for us. I know how hard you fought for us, and how hard you tried, mom, and I thank you for that.

Sometimes, I try to imagine what my life would have turned out to have been like had you been with me. Would JJ's life have turned out to have been more productive? Would you and Daddy have stayed together? Would we have been friends? Or would we have grown painfully apart as I dealt with the turbulent years of adolescence? I have tried to get to know you through the people you loved most while you were here, but I still haven't pieced together the whole picture. I wonder whether I was never meant to get to know you as a person. I disagree with Tita Susan about so many things like religion and the RH Bill (although I love her nonetheless). I wonder if we would have argued on principle about the same things. Would we have traveled together? Would we have liked the same books, and listened to the same music? Would you have disagreed with my life choices? Would you have approved of the boys I dated? Would we have exchanged harsh words as I defended my rash decisions? Would you have approved of my career choices? Would you have loathed the person I have become, or would you laud how I have managed to become independent on so many levels?

I know we weren't able to talk much those last few days before you died, and that I wasn't exactly a perfect daughter to you. I talked back on occasion. I realize now that I was being very selfish when, after having been released from the hospital, I asked you to quit your job and stay home with us, but you did it just the same.

I have so many questions I want to ask you. A million things I want to say. But I know you will never hear me. And this is the most I can do to even attempt to get this across. I only hope that what they say about the hereafter IS real. See, I haven't even made up my mind about THAT. On the off chance that it IS real, I hope I see you there, and that I find the words to tell you everything I haven't been able to say.

Lesson/s from Holy Week 2011

Holy week lesson: When at home, keep your religious theories to yourself. Particularly if the oldies are of a (very) traditional religious sort who are pretty resistant to change. They will not appreciate it if you say things like you think Sodom and Gomorrah were destroyed by a volcanic eruption, that you don't think Jesus was born in December, that you think the bible should be read in light of the method by which the books were chosen and the effect of religious politics on such procedure, and the fact that things get lost in translation, and that you don't think the entirety of the bible should be read literally. Wapak, Grace. Wapak. Ayan, nasermonan ka tuloy. Just nod and smile dear, just nod and smile. And for the love of God, wag mo aminin na hindi mo memorized ang stations of the cross, at kailangan mo ng kodigo para sa mysteries of the rosary.

P.S. Buti na lang nagpakumpil na ako with Chi at natuwa naman sila sa akin. Otherwise, dead Grace.

Romarico Sanorjo aka Rico The Magician Pilipinas Got Talent 2011 Season 2

Marcelito Po Moy ''Maybe the Next Winner'' Pilipinas Got Talent Season 2...

Etheridge Victory

Etheridge Victory

I just realized...

I just realized...and this is by no means meant to be a dramatic statement...the thing with relationships is that you have to reacquaint yourself and deal with not just the bright and shiny things, but with the dark and dreary and melodramatic parts of another person's life...and I don't think I want to do that again. At least not right now. I like my life now, no frills, but no complications either. I can take off without batting an eyelash, and go anywhere I want, within my budgetary constraints, of course. And the only issues I have to deal with are my own. Hehe! So there. Back to my cold rainy weekend. =D

Baby boy with rare disease seeks help - INQUIRER.net, Philippine News for Filipinos

Baby boy with rare disease seeks help - INQUIRER.net, Philippine News for Filipinos