Highway to Happy

“I don’t know what I’ve gained from loving you, but the need for anyone else is what I’ve lost.”

2012-02-07T22:14:00.000-08:00

*It's Valentine's day in a week. Take all the cheese in. *

Masarap din pala maging Atenista

2012-02-05T06:49:00.000-08:00

I am the girl from the other school. At least that is how I have always felt whenever I take my Buscomm class. Our professor has been with Ateneo all her life, as in all her maybe 45(?) years of studying and teaching. She drops anti-La Salle punch lines every hour, while I manage keeping a straight face through all that. I can always raise my point but they will surely bash me with, ‘Why are you in Ateneo, then?’. And I acknowledge that as a valid point. So, most of the time, I keep opinions to myself. Our professor is obviously fond of Ateneans. What’s the point of trying to change that?

Last Saturday, I felt things have changed- for the better, yes. And this is brought about by my “I’ve been with the same guy for 8 years” revelation during my 5-minute impromptu speech. I picked a personal question that gave my professor and the entire class an opportunity to get to know me. The downside, though, is that she calls me ALL THE TIME now and asks the weirdest question. Care to know how weird is weird?

She called me and asked how my boyfriend communicates with a kiss. Where did that come from??? The only thing more embarrassing is my mom asking me that same question!

Luckily, I got through it by giving a lame “passionately” answer because I was blushing to death I couldn’t think straight. I just made a comeback by saying “tenderly, because I have braces” when I got over the initial shock.

That was only the beginning of a series of personal (some too personal) questions that allowed all of us to loosen up and be ourselves. We laughed our way through the rest of the embarrassing questions. There are a few x-rated answers that I choose not share because I want to keep this wholesome!

Towards the end of the class I was (AGAIN) called by my professor:

Prof: Lian, example of a hyperbole your boyfriend told you.
Me: He got this from a book. I love you as far as the moon- and back.
Prof: So parang, ‘Mamahalin kita hanggang sa dulo nang walang hanngan.’
Me: Yes, Ma’am. Pero... BABALIK PA.
*cheers from the class*

There was something about that day that made me feel I finally belong there. It’s beyond the La Salle- Ateneo rivalry; that’s too shallow. I’m the new girl in school- that is stressful enough. Coming from the other side is just an additional stress factor.

I ended that day knowing I can be myself. That I no longer have to limit my words with what’s in my resume. I’m done being the wallflower. It’s time to shed off the coating. :)

Paperless Reading

2012-01-26T21:07:00.000-08:00

I am the absolute impulsive buyer- when it comes to nerdy things associated with my favorite activity: READING. What an exciting life I have, right? Thumb things, silly (often never used) bookmarks, electronic dictionaries, even a bookmark dictionary, plus a rechargeable booklight- I own all those. The moment I see reading accessories in Fully Booked, I get magnetized. The few times I was able to let go of an item, I lost sleep and returned to the bookstore the very next day.

Despite this seemingly uncontrollable nerdy spending, there is one reading gadget I know I will never purchase. Okay, NEVER is such a final term. But I’m sure I wouldn’t crave having one in the near future.

Electronic Readers

There was a brief phase I seriously contemplated on getting one. But while I was surfing the net for reviews on Kindle and Nook, I found myself typing the URL of my favorite porn site: Bookshelf Porn, that is. It brought me back to my ultimate dream of having my very own library. Few clicks into the site and I was off to daydream about my future batcave. And the plan of buying a Kindle was thrown out the window, too.

Last week, though, I made a step into paperless reading, since I’m aware this is more nature-friendly and I have to de-clutter my room somehow. There is a compromise I am willing to make, in spite of my 'owning a library' dream. And it is this:

On-line magazine subscription!

Reader's Digest for my very first purchase.

I am enjoying reading using my tablet and not having to worry where to keep the physical copy after. Less of that finished and half-way done copies piled in my bookshelf and more space for new books. Hurray! I am so looking forward to my next subscriptions. A Tavel Magazine, perhaps? Or The Economist, so I'll feel like a legit professional? Hmmm.

P.S.

I accept monetary donations in the form itunes cards. Thank you. :)

(What) Long Weekend (?)

2012-01-26T03:13:00.000-08:00

I once told my boyfriend that if I ever have to make a thesis again, I'll do a study on why people stay in our firm. With overflowing reasons to leave, why do people, err, WE opt to stay and put up with all of it.

No samples, no approved survey question, without any statistical basis, I would bet my bottom peso that this would top the list:

OFFICEMATES/FRIENDS

We spent the entire long weekend… how else?.. working! Trying our very best to beat an impossible deadline. Spending those grueling hours seemed more than bearable, fun, even, because of these people. In between temple run breaks, endless exchanges of witty remarks and long dinner breaks, we managed to keep each other sane, while producing quality outputs, of course.

The last couple of years spent with these people feel more like an extension of College than a first job: nurturing new friendships, lack of sleep, living off an allowance (thanks to our poor man’s salary) and doing crazy things without any worries.

Adults who know better will always warn you to never, ever accept a job just because of the salary. I am sure as hell not guilty of that.

Working for money is so overrated. Try working for friends.

Love and Margarita

2012-01-08T06:57:00.000-08:00

When I started taking up my Masters degree late last year I expected a mountain of additional work. I expected crazy schedules, shorter Friday nights and sleep deprivation. New friends? Not exactly part of the list. We are a class full of professionals with our own already busy weekday lives. I intended to make my way in and out of the classrooms as swiftly as possible. Ninja moves!

But then, this BusComm group happened.

Tuesday night dinner at Kitchen, Greenbelt 3

We are a bunch of fun-loving, crazy, sarcastic people. The picture above was taken during our first outside-of-school group meeting initiated by a “Let’s have UBE, groupmates!” text invitation. UBE stands for “ultimate bonding experience”, which was very fitting since we spent more hours sharing snippets of our personal lives than the actual finals presentation planning. The controversial topic for the night was, of course, love. We all willingly shared whatever's on top of our brains until it got too late we had to cut our bonding short.

Since we were all stressed out that night, we ended our UBE with a round of drinks.

A first for me

Our professor told us that the people we meet in her class will be the friends we will keep throughout the program. If she happens to be right, honestly, I wouldn't mind.

My New Year Wish by Neil Gaiman

2012-01-01T21:56:00.000-08:00

A decade ago, I wrote:

May your coming year be filled with magic and dreams and good madness. I hope you read some fine books and kiss someone who thinks you're wonderful, and don't forget to make some art -- write or draw or build or sing or live as only you can. And I hope, somewhere in the next year, you surprise yourself.

And almost half a decade ago I said,

...I hope you will have a wonderful year, that you'll dream dangerously and outrageously, that you'll make something that didn't exist before you made it, that you will be loved and that you will be liked, and that you will have people to love and to like in return. And, most importantly (because I think there should be more kindness and more wisdom in the world right now), that you will, when you need to be, be wise, and that you will always be kind.

And for this year, my wish for each of us is small and very simple.

And it's this.

I hope that in this year to come, you make mistakes.

Because if you are making mistakes, then you are making new things, trying new things, learning, living, pushing yourself, changing yourself, changing your world. You're doing things you've never done before, and more importantly, you're Doing Something.

So that's my wish for you, and all of us, and my wish for myself. Make New Mistakes. Make glorious, amazing mistakes. Make mistakes nobody's ever made before. Don't freeze, don't stop, don't worry that it isn't good enough, or it isn't perfect, whatever it is: art, or love, or work or family or life.

Whatever it is you're scared of doing, Do it.

Make your mistakes, next year and forever

Neil Gaiman says it all.
This year I'm taking my cue from this genius.

2011 in Post-its

2012-01-01T17:06:00.000-08:00

Most people have vision boards. I have a cluttered office wall full of post-its. HAD. I accumulated more than 20 inspiring notes throughout the past year. Each one symbolizes a certain phase of 2011. I figured it would be fulfilling to look back using these colorful pieces of paper.

Here are the ones worth sharing:

I specifically remember writing this one to remind me to take my MBA entrance exam. Initially, my plan was to do it in June but other things came up, had to miss a term and finally took the exam late August.

Yes, NEVER.

Whenever I feel like the world is crumbling down, I read this to remind me that it isn't the end of the world. It cant'be be, when tomorrow is already happening in another side of the world.

JOB HUNTING, to be exact. Ha!

Just one of those late night realizations.

This reminds be to always thank God for all the wonderful blessings.

I love Ramon Bautista. His tweets are automatic re-tweets. I even have a page in my planner dedicated to his wise words. The one I wrote above he tweeted at the exact moment I needed to read it.

TRUE.

So, so TRUE.

A couple more encouraging post-its that get me through crappy work days.

A milestone in 2011. I started my Masters degree, finally. That is my school's logo with my College (i.e. DLSU's) and current ID numbers. I still get kilig when I look at those.

In honor of Steve Jobs

Makes me rethink every decision.

Words I will never forget. :)

Don't judge. A girl needs her dose of touchy-feely reminders.

This last one hits the bull's eye. Perfect words, perfect timing.

On my last work day for 2011, I decided to take all the post-its down. My office wall looks so neat now! But also plain and boring. That is, until the first post-it for this year comes along.

Post-its will be safely tucked in my 2011 planner

New year, new post-its.

New inspirations.

Happy 2012! :))

Holiday Madness

2012-01-01T16:01:00.000-08:00

It was a MERRY CHRISTMAS..

Feeling only child

This Santa NEVER fails!

... and a HAPPY NEW YEAR, indeed! :))

From my crazy family to yours!

JUMP!

2011-12-04T00:00:00.000-08:00

I do not have a Bucket List. If you count mental notes as such, then my blurry memory could pass as one. But every time I try to sit down and make one for real, I realize that a handful of items I would have wanted to do, I ALREADY DID.

Especially the crazy/dangerous ones.

But this, this I have to document. This one is too amazing I couldn't entrust this with my brain cells alone. People, sky diving still tops my mental bucket list (crazy edition), but my research tells me that I would have to go far, far away and make loads of money to afford it, which could be as difficult as mustering enough courage to jump off a plane. So, imagine my delight upon learning about this sky-rocketing tower in Macau (very accesible, right?) where people go to... BUNGEE JUMP!

We were having our lunch break. Seat sales were up in Cebu Pacific Air. We were scouting for the cheapest fares for our out-of-the-country batch trip in 2012. We found a reasonably priced trip to Macau. Macau-Hong Kong would be a good option. And then a friend brought up this a-ma-zing site for bungee jumping. A few clicks on the internet and we found out it was actually the second highest in the world! You see, this is the same group I rafted with and almost drowned in CDO and the same people who jumped off the highest cliff at Ariel's point, so there is credibility when we look at each other and say, "Game?".

2. Macau Tower, China – 764 ft (233 m)

This 338 m tall tower holds the provisions for an observation deck for relaxing as well as for undertaking daring sports like bungee jumping or ‘sky jumping’ as it actually feels like. It counts among one of the giddiest entertainments that Macau has to offer to its visitors and locals.

Hands (and feet) sweating we watched youtube videos of people making the jump. I had mixed feelings of terror and envy! Man, they were badasses! If you want to watch the vid and see the other 19 amazing sites for bungee jumping, click the link below.

http://www.hottnez.com/20-amazing-places-to-bungee-jump-be-a-james-bond-or-jump-into-a-volcano/

In the end, we didn't go for it. Most of us had been to Hong Kong already, so we went for other options. It might not happen next year, but surely, in this lifetime, I will visit Macau and jump off that freakin' tower! Hopefully, with the same bunch of crazy people. :)

That afternoon of planning and airline website hopping didn't go to waste. We successfully booked a flight... to VIETNAM! There may be no bungee jumping for us next year but we will set foot on the historical SAIGON and the majestic ANGKOR WAT! Ahhh, another tick off my mental bucket list!!!

See you next year!

Walking dead

2011-11-24T17:29:00.000-08:00

There are days you wake up to without being alive, at all. No matter how hard your brain tries to do the convincing, your body is just too damn exhausted to pay attention. Motivational quotes are useless; deadlines are invisible. You refuse to care about the colorful post-its staring right at your face. You would even gladly stage a walk-out if you only had enough energy to slam the door.

You remind yourself of the blessings. Count them, you tell yourself. But even those tiny joints in your fingers are too swollen to make the slightest movement. You want to give out a deep sigh. But even that natural activity pains you. You give up without even trying.

Signpost

2011-11-18T07:04:00.000-08:00

Some people do it on their birthdays. Others, a few days before welcoming a new year. Although, as much as possible, I try to reflect on those occasions, too, I feel a much powerful need to dwell upon my recent decisions when facing a life turn.

Tomorrow is my first day in graduate school. *grant me a few seconds to savor those words* It may not seem such a big deal. It may mean nothing more than having enough funds to pay for the expensive fees, or, in my case, having parents very much willing to grant me parental support. Graduate school may only mean shiny paper with the fancy letters M, B and A in it. Or a name three letters longer than before. In short, nothing more than a title to brag about. Although those are all perks of a Master's Degree, I would like to believe there are things beyond that, if you have the right intentions at heart.

Before I sealed this decision, a number of people asked why I didn’t apply for a scholarship. As Mother Theresa-ish as this sounds, I didn’t apply for one because I couldn’t imagine taking a spot at the expense of someone else who truly needed it. My parents shared the same principle, so they stepped in the moment I told them about my plans of studying again.

What I found more dumb-founding than that was people’s advise to just wait until my boss require me to earn such degree and then, ask for a firm scholarship. That sounds pretty logical, not to mention convenient. But that was exactly what I was trying to avoid.

In my years of education, I was merely following a pattern. Everybody expects you to get into highschool after elementary, and then to college after highschool. I didn’t have a choice. And I say that not to make it sound unfavorable. My point is, studying was the most natural thing to do then. After College, I got a taste of the real world. I dove into new responsibilities, dealt with everything unfamiliar and matured more than in all my academic years. It was convenient to go with the flow. Professional responsibility overwhelmed me that I merely focused into working hard, not knowing what for. Needless to day, I got swayed into a path I wasn’t sure was for me yet not entirely not for me. There was no time to look back and honestly evaluate whether I was doing the right job. Doing a good job and having the right job are two different things. I understood that fully in the past years.

You know that familiar line? I woke up one day and that was it. I woke up and felt I needed to re-evaluate everything. I realized I couldn’t keep moving without a specific direction. A lot of events triggered it but they all came crashing to me one day. It had been a long process since “that morning”, a process that took a lot of initiative. And I guess, that is the part I am most proud of.

I didn’t wait for someone to push me into taking a Master's Degree nor searched for a solid benefit I’ll get from pursuing it because I already felt the eagerness to learn and, more importantly, the drive to act on it. What else should I be waiting for?

Tomorrow I’ll tread on a new path. It wasn’t exactly in my roadmap. But somewhere along the way, I decided to follow a different signpost and give my career a new direction. This isn’t abandoning entirely what I have built the past 2 years. This is a detour, a bypass. This is me taking the earlier exit to a different highway, while everyone else is going straight ahead.

This is me taking a risk. It is scary. But it’s the good kind of scary.

Principle to Master

2011-11-13T16:32:00.000-08:00

My birthday wish, summed up in a forwarded story:

Life is Like a Cup of Coffee

A group of alumni, highly established in their careers, got together to visit their old university professor. Conversation soon turned into complaints about stress in work and life.

Offering his guests coffee, the professor went to the kitchen and returned with a large pot of coffee and an assortment of cups - porcelain, plastic, glass, crystal, some plain looking, some expensive, some exquisite - telling them to help themselves to the coffee.

When all the students had a cup of coffee in hand, the professor said: "If you noticed, all the nice looking expensive cups have been taken up, leaving behind the plain and cheap ones. While it is normal for you to want only the best for yourselves, that is the source of your problems and stress.

Be assured that the cup itself adds no quality to the coffee. In most cases it is just more expensive and in some cases even hides what we drink. What all of you really wanted was coffee, not the cup, but you consciously went for the best cups... And then you began eyeing each other's cups.

Now consider this: Life is the coffee; the jobs, money and position in society are the cups. They are just tools to hold and contain Life, and the type of cup we have does not define, nor change the quality of life we live.

Sometimes, by concentrating only on the cup, we fail to enjoy the coffee. Savor the coffee, not the cups! The happiest people don't have the best of everything. They just make the best of everything. Live simply. Love generously. Care deeply. Speak kindly.

God has been beyond generous to me the past year. He granted me the right opportunities, answered my prayers and made this year the kind of transition I planned it to be. If He will still grant me a birthday wish, it would be exactly what the story above is about:

I wish for that kind of wisdom- the ability to focus on the things that are essential and let all other matters truly slide.

*written on November 6

Secret Mission: Accomplished!

2011-11-13T07:17:00.000-08:00

It was never a secret that I picked Accountancy for my undergrad course not to be an Accountant but with a bigger goal in mind: go into law school. Somewhere along the way, plans changed. I realized my childhood dream of becoming lawyer doesn’t really fit the grown-up me. I couldn’t see myself being a part of that profession- no offense meant.

Standing alone, as geeky as this sounds, I learned to love Accountancy. It offered the kind of intellectual challenge that is very, very humbling. And I believe that played a huge role in helping me mature as a young adult. Then again, in my 2 years of being an Accountant (or Auditor, whatever), I am still not contented. There is that part of me that yearns for something more. Or something else, for that matter.

My job has been very challenging and I feel very fortunate because of all the opportunities that had been thrown my way this early in my career. Work is far from being easy but I appreciate that I get to manage engagements, handle people and train staff at this age. But, as I’ve written, I was craving for something else.

And that ‘something else’ is this: MBA (then become a Manager, instead of an Accountant)

I had been dropping the plan in any normal conversation with friends. Mentioning it wasn’t a big deal, especially during that time I still wasn’t qualified to take it. But when everything fell into place and I finally met all requirements, I started shoving it away.

I talked about it less and less. I stopped researching about it. I started reviewing for the entrance exam but never got as far as applying for it! In short, I chickened out.

First term slipped away. Not long after, application for the second term started. I re-evaluated my plans; I reflected if this is truly what I wanted. When I had all the answers, except for the one that can justify my fear of being rejected, I finally decided to go for it. Everything after that happened fast.

Wednesday: I submitted my application and scheduled my exam a month later. Registrar guy convinced me to take the Saturday exam, instead. I don’t know how he made me say yes!

Saturday: I took the entrance exam. The questions weren’t too difficult but the challenge was finishing it given the limited time.

Friday of the following week: Results were out! I passed! :)

Last week, I enrolled for my first 2 subjects. I could have been exempted from those but I opted to take them, anyway. I entered graduate school neither for the title’s sake nor because my boss required me to. I took my MBA because I wanted to learn, and I believe there are still things I could take- away from those subjects. (Mental note to remember this principle forever.)

I am exactly 6 days away from starting this adventure. I am, honestly, getting cold feet. So, instead of thinking negatively, I’ll take comfort in the words of a nine-year old shared by her mom in twitter:

Nothing worth doing doesn’t make you nervous. (So true!)

I am feeling a little scared because this matters a lot to me. I know, I know. Graduate school, don’t eat me alive, please!

Pickung up a treasure...

2011-11-11T20:57:00.000-08:00

..from my trash-filled recycle bin.

I don’t remember why I ended up deleting this piece. But right now, this sums up what I really want to write about. So, I’m resurrecting these words from the (digital) grave. :))

In the beginning of every relationship, we are generally inclined to possess an overwhelming feeling that this is all you have ever wanted and all you will ever want. You spend afternoons filled with deep sighs of gratitude while looking at the same direction. If this love is meant to last, that feeling never goes away. But at some point, it ceases to overwhelm you. Contentment transforms into its permanent state: an undercurrent source of happiness. Love grows, matures. You realize that love doesn’t bind you; it inspires you- to dream big, to do more, to reach your best version.

When I said “I love you” to the very first guy who captured my heart, I had that sense already. Thanks to my parents who always remind me that it is never selfish to do what you love. Years later, with a long list of accomplishments and a longer list of things to accomplish, I couldn’t thank the heavens enough for blessing me with a man who never considered trapping me inside his little world as a way for security, who never included individual dreams in our compromise list, who looks at me with confidence that is sincere but never commanding. I was blessed with a man who does his own thing, while I go around my way, experiencing new things, figuring out what I truly want, and patiently holds on to that certainty that he is a part of all of it- the biggest part, as a matter of fact.

My dad once told me that I should love a man that believes in me and because he believes in me, lets me shine. I guess I hit the bull’s eye with my very first throw.

To whoever thought of putting recycyle bins in computers, thank you for being a genius.
And to the man who inspired these words, thank you for touching my heart.

Our kind of Saturdate

2011-11-03T08:02:00.001-07:00

Because I was kind of pissed off about work and I didn’t want anything to remind me of it for the entire weekend, Makati was off limits for our Saturdate. Greenbelt and Rockwell taken out of the options, I was almost sure we will go to the Fort. Until the boyfriend suggested why not we visit, or should I say “re-visit”, Taft.

So off to Taft we went.

First stop: Flaming wings

I never knew this place existed when I was in College. It was behind Army Navy so not really visible from the main road. I think it opened around the time I was already reviewing for the board exams. During those gruelling 6 months, I only knew 4 places: Dorm room, Review school, Starbucks Taft and.. Jollibee! Jollibee was across Starbucks so when it hits dinner time, I ask manong Starbucks guard to watch over my table. I leave my review materials and head out for a really quick bite. Then, back to my review again. Ok. I’m getting sidetracked. Let’s go back to Flaming wings and their yummy......

Buffalo wings, what elese!

I was brave enough to try the spiciest dressing while the boyfriend opted for the normal flavored chicken tenders. Tenders! Where's the fun in having tenders???

Aside from the delicious wings, people visit this food haus because of a dessert called wicked oreos.

Second (and last) stop: Cafe Noriter

I wanted to re-visit more places but I really, really want to check out Cafe Noriter. I’ve read so many reviews about this place and I was dying to visit it and experience its unique feel.

The moment I entered the door, I knew we’ll be stuck there the entire afternoon.

Noriter means playground in Korean. That explains the sand box-ish corners, art materials and creative decors scattered all over the place.

Some places, those that have a certain“character”, usually bring out an uptight vibe. Like you have to catch up with the “feel” of the place. Cafe Noriter is different. It is a right mix of cozy and interesting. Perfect for long, lazy afternoons.

Lovely lazy date. :))

Work reached a different level of cruelty the past week. Unreasonable limits were set and rules were being imposed out of nowhere. I was beyond frustrated. I badly needed a breather. But this day turned out to be much, much better than just a way of getting over office drama.

It was a great Saturday, indeed.

With my let’s-talk-about-it-(and not talk about it) partner.

You truly know how to untangle the mess in my brain without having to use words. Apir!

2011-11-01T08:29:00.001-07:00

I am always excited about November. For this year, though, this being my birthmonth isn't the top reason why.

There are so many things to look forward to this month, so much possibilities. I couldn't wait to wake up to the actual days when I'll get to check the few unmarked boxes in my 2011 to-do list. A blessed year, certainly, this one has been.

Cheers to the beginning of new adventures.

And here's hoping I enjoy the ride.

Batch Love

2011-10-27T01:44:00.000-07:00

Life has a way of pulling the rug from under our feet just when we seem to have finally found balance. Good thing, heaven has its own way of showering us with amazing people to laughcry with when we hit butt first on the floor.

Toastbox: Girl Talk Headquarters

When the world seems to be crumbling down and bosses seem to have been possessed by evil spirits, it is always reassuring to know that we are only an “Aburido ON” text away from each other, that we can easily be comforted by a plate of Combi in our favorite “meeting” place, and that we are still capable of making fun of life’s most unfortunate twists just because we are in each others’ company.

3 nights in a row of sweet batch lovin' summed up in a tweet

Keeping the batch love fire burning for 2 years.. and counting.

WanderLOST?

2011-10-11T20:56:00.000-07:00

48 hours before my trip to faraway and I am, in every way, unprepared. I haven’t printed necessary travel documents, haven’t packed, haven’t planned what to pack and haven’t laid out my full-proof travel plan B (the “just in case” kit). I am caught up in one of my busiest weeks at work, running on 3 hours of sleep as I type this and I guess that explains my unreadiness. Excited cells are also surprisingly missing in action. I’m not as thrilled to explore a foreign city as I am longing to escape this place for a while.

48 hours to do all the all the things I haven’t had the time to face. 48 hours to shift from work mode to travel mode. 48 hours to turn the exhaustion into excitement. 48 hours until I get to spend quality time with my old, old friend. 48 hours until this:

Singapore at night via google images

I may not feel an overwhelming anticipation at this point, but it’s all under my skin. The kilig will soon flow into my system, for sure. I just know it.

WANDERLUST, all the way. :))

To the man who thought differently

2011-10-07T23:10:00.000-07:00

I have never met you but my eyes got teary the moment I found out about your passing. I have never been a technology savvy person but I felt sad about the greater things you could have done had you had more time.

I do not know you on a personal level but I know that I celebrated one of this year's happiest moments by getting myself one of your creations. And if that doesn't show how you were able to touch so many lives in a very personal way, I do not know what will.

I have never met you but I can feel the loss right at my fingertips as I type this. By the way, you were right. This little thing is magical.

Make more toys in heaven. And thank you for never ever settling.

R.I.P., Steve Jobs.

Project Stepford Wife: Food for the (basketball) gods

2011-10-06T08:37:00.000-07:00

First game of UAAP finals and Gilas' semi-finals match in one afternoon. Had I been married by now, there would definitely be beer and chips party in our house, gathering up our closest friends to watch the games together. Well, I'm not yet married, obviously, but those games are too fun to watch alone. Plus, I need to work on my cooking skills! So, without thinking further, I texted the boyfriend: Saturday. My place. Basketball games. I'll cook for you.

I think that last statement made the invite irresistable. ha!

In my first attempt to cook, I only did as much as re-heat lasagna and fry spring rolls. This time, however, I did every single thing on my own!

STEP 1: In search for the best ingredients (a.k.a. grocery shopping)

I can't even remember the last time I did grocery shopping for real. On most of my trips to the supermarket, I merely had to get something quick for myself. Think trip to 711 kind of thing. So when I arrived in the supermarket, armed with my list of ingredients, left-over cash and atm card, I was both excited and nervous. But after I figured out I left my atm card at home and realized I only had P250 cash in my wallet, I was just nervous. Too much challenge for a pretend-to-be misis!

Because of the budget constraint, I had to cut down my list of ingredients and be precise on the volume I need; no room for extras. I worked my way around unfamiliar aisles. Imagine my confusion when I faced a freezer full of a variety of ham and bacon! I was so confused!

After several rounds of picking and calculations, I got everything I needed and went home satisfied with everything in my grocery bag.

Step 2: Prologue to the actual cooking

The recipes I chose were pretty simple to cook: Ham and cheese logs, and pizza dip (for nachos). The pizza dip recipe was straight forward. No need for preparations. On the other hand, making the ham and cheese logs was a little tricky. I re-read the recipe once more and then I was off to start my adventure.

Hello, Kitchen. *rolls up imaginary sleeves and tightens pony tails*

Flattened bread, ham strips and little pieces of cheese goodness

When I was dipping the rolls into the egg then into the bread crumbs, I realized I made a fatal mistake. Like, deal-breaker kind of mistake! The bread crumbs I bought weren't plain/ordinary bread crumbs. Instead, I got breading for fried chicken! I panicked! The smell of the breading was too strong I knew instantly it would affect the taste of my masterpiece. I froze for a minutes, then shook off my disappointment. Hell, I'll make chicken-flavored ham and cheese rolls! Haha!

Step 3: Facing my fear... of boiling cooking oil.

The actual cooking was the part I dread the most. I never fried anything without getiing assistance from someone. But this time, since I am bringing out the big guns, you know, I fought every cell in my body urging me to call my yaya and ask for help. I did everything on my own!

The result of doing everything on my own. The burnt piece was my first attempt. haha

After all the hardwork, the fyring, the mixing..... VIOLA!!!

Ham and cheese logs cut in smaller pieces

Pizza dip

Boyfriend arrived just as I was about to put all my lovely (I am allowed to be biased here) creations on the table. The look on his face as while he watched me running around the kitchen like a masterchef contestant was priceless. I bet he couldn't believe his own eyes. haha!

I did all these! *tear*

During the half-time break, boyfriend craved for some squid balls and fish balls. I knew we had those in the freezer so I volunteered to cook again. This is another first!

Both teams we rooted for lost. We were devastated, especially by the Gilas' loss against Jordan. But at the end of the afternoon, I was a happy little masterchef. Surely, there would be more kitchen adventures for me in the next weekends. I would regularly stalk yummy.ph for easy-to-do recipes until I can manage doing the more difficult ones. But for now, I'll clean up the mess I made in the kitchen and wash the dishes left in the sink.

Then, the misis in me can finally rest. I'll go back to my usual undomesticated (for now) self.

*written on September 24

Starting Over

2011-09-28T19:57:00.000-07:00

There is a heavy feeling I’ve been carrying around since yesterday. I couldn’t pin point what started it. Work got cancelled the other day so I doubt if this is due to work exhaustion. Relationships are also smooth sailing, not one disagreement with love ones. Yet, I am sad. Not in a ‘I’m sad I will project my frustration to everyone else’ kind of sad. Just sad.

Usually a few good hours of reading can uplift my spirit. I tried that trick last night. Didn’t work one bit. After a couple of flips, I returned the book in my bedside table, turned the TV on and stared at it blankly until I fell asleep.

Other than reading, writing cures me. And that explains this entry.

I browsed through my previous entries and got a bit disappointed with what I had been writing here. Travel stories, date nights, a few personal but limited thoughts. This used to be my secret outlet. (Although secret may not be a very fitting term.) This used to be what Facebook and Twitter is to everyone else, nowadays. By the way, just to give my two cents worth, I hate how people say everyone has a perfect life if you look into their Facebook or Twitter or any of these social networking sites. They throw such judgment out there as if it similar to hypocrisy. I say it isn’t hypocrisy; it is being proper. It is disrespectful to use as a status how much you hate your parents or how your boyfriend lied to your face or how insecure you are with every little imperfection. It is disrespectful to you, to the other party and to your ‘friends’ who would have it on their feeds.

But this blog is different. There is no feed. I am not shoving my words into your face. You intentionally typed my URL in that gateway to the WWW, so you have to bear with me. You have to bear with my honesty.

Form this entry onwards, I am permitting myself to be sincere, not just about my thoughts, but more importantly, about my feelings- again. I will write as if nobody’s reading. And if that actually happens, I would be ok with it. Besides, I write for the sake of having written, not for the sake of being read.

Do something that scares (THE HELL OUT OF) you

2011-09-18T06:04:00.000-07:00

This isn't the DAY 2 of Boracay entry I promised to write about. This is just a part of that part. Although, you can call this 'The Highlight', at least based on my side of the story.

You know that friend of yours you call when you need a little push? That's NOT me. I am the friend you call when you are hesitating to make a move and just need to hear someone tell you, 'Don't do it'. I am the friend your parents ask to 'watch over you' on night-outs. You hear me reminding the designated driver over and over to not drink more than 2 bottles because it's not safe. I am not up for breaking any rules, especially traffic rules. I play it safe. USUALLY.

You cannot bring me in a bar and expect me to drink more than I can handle (sometimes, even to drink, at all) just because it is crazy fun. You cannot put me in a wooden plank 45 ft. above see water and expect me NOT to jump, either. I'm crazy like that. :)

Ariel's Point, Boracay, August 13, 2011- The day I did the scariest thing I had to do- EVER.

1. My turn to walk across that plank. Scared!
2. The tip of the plank was the scariest place I had ever set foot on!
3. I stayed there for a minute, I think, contemplating whether I wanted to jump more than I was scared to get hurt. The answer's pretty obvious.
4. Did the sign of the cross and told God I still want to be alive after this!
5. Taking a step back before...
6. Taking the plunge!
7.-8. The longest 2 seconds of my life!!!
9. Last second before hitting the water, I felt my position change. I can still remember telling myself, 'This is gonna hurt.' The fall was THAT long!

If you want to see the video, watch it here.

Pardon my video snap-shooting skills. FAIL!

See that? Thumbs up for a hell of an experience! It hurt badly, yes. Like THIS bad:

The pain went away in hours, bruises faded out in weeks, but the satisfaction of knowing I was able to DO IT, that will never go away. It makes riding the highest, longest, fastest rollercoaster in the world seem easy. There you just have to buckle up, close your eyes and everything's out of your hands. In cliff-jumping, you have to do everything ON YOUR OWN. Telling yourself with finality that I am going to jump NOW and actually making that push, it is beyond liberating! It would be a lot easier, although more dangerous, if someone will just push you into the water. But no, you can't be a baby in there. You walk up there alone, you jump off it alone. Surely nothing like I have ever done before.

I may be the classic Kill Joy. I may be someone who always reminds everybody to be safe. That is because I don't want anybody getting hurt due to recklessness or stupid decisions. Although, jumping off a 45 ft. cliff is not exactly a smart thing to do. Oh well! No more contradictions. Let me just put it this way: Be safe in your daily routine and reserve your luck for some of life's grandest adventures! The heavens can't be too generous, you know. :)

There you have it, people (3 readers can be called people, right?); the scariest thing I've done- SO FAR.

'Til the next wicked escapade!

Buy the ticket, take the ride: BORACAY

2011-09-16T21:12:00.000-07:00

In keeping with my promise to write, than merely post pictures, in my travel tumblr...

You can never go wrong with BORACAY

Early this year, Airphil had a seat sale. The 6 of us (officemates by day, friends by heart) were all over the Metro, doing client fieldwork. After a few calls here and a dozen messages there, despite miscommunications and false alarms, we successfully booked a flight to Boracay, even after seats on sale ran out. Our last batch hurrah, as we opted to call it.

Read the entire entry here.

Delayed Gratification

2011-09-10T21:12:00.000-07:00

I am a very practical person. Everyone I know would agree on that. I go over my options a hundred times before making a purchase. Be it as inexpensive as a dress on sale or a major investment like a gadget. Yes, even in instances when I reward myself for small victories, like this one.

I am a very practical person and today doesn't change that. I know how it looks. Someone in a cofee shop who doodles, swipes and taps all day using this sleek apple tablet spells everything but practical. But believe me, I have considered every bit of relevant information before I finally gave in into buying this awesome invention. Although, I must admit, the giddiness that holding this sweet little thing somewhat outweighs other factors.

Hello there, new toy! My promotion-slash-passing the MBA entrance exam-slash-birthday-slash-Chrsitmas gift to myself!

Today, I am XXX bucks poorer but a lot of times richer with every bit of endless possibility this little toy can offer. I think I got a pretty good deal.

Happy Ipad owner! (using Instagram)

Small victories are worth celebrating.

Go and reward yourself.

You know you desrve it. :))

September 3, 2011

Going BLUE

2011-09-02T08:22:00.000-07:00

I SAW THIS:

And the first 4 things I did were:

1. Thanked God.

2. Called Dad.

3. Called Boyfriend.

4. Called Power Mac and made reservations for an IPAD2. hahaha!

Thank you, Lord, for the small miracles that are slowly building up my life. And thank You, twice as much, for a heart that celebrates the good things, no matter how small. You're the best!!!

Good morning, Love!

2011-08-20T09:36:00.000-07:00

(a.k.a. Celebrating our 8^th year)

8 o'clock of the night before our anniversary, I received a message from an officemate asking a favor: She needed help in our tax computation due the next day. If I were willing to help, I should be in the office by 7am. I understood the urgency of the text, so I assured her I'll be there.

Come 7:30am the following day, I was rushing to get to the office, since I was already late by half an hour. Blame the Monday traffic. I skipped my coffee routine, walked double time and struggled in carrying my ripped paper bag.

And then I saw this:

A bouquet of flowers carried by the sweetest boyfriend.

There is something about morning surprises that makes me feel extra-kilig. Starting the day right, as they say.

Using work to make me come to office earlier was his sureshot idea to invite me to a breakfast date. (He knows me well. = Alam nya martyr ako.)

Lookie! I asked the boyfriend to give me any book. Even a book I had read before. I just wanted to find out what he would pick. Surprisingly, he picked this! A children's book about the simplest and truest definitions of love. It was the sweetest thing! Deserving of a separate entry, definitely.

To formally celebrate our anniversary, we had dinner at Apartment 1B. I diligently researched for a not-so-far from the office restaurant, aside from those in Greenbelt and Ayala Triangle. A few clicks lead me to a review that raved about Apartment 1B. I decided to rely on it and the restaurant did not disappoint!

Their vegetable samosas were the perfect appetizer! Boyfriend and I munched on them happily. Definitely ordering this again on our next visit.

We ordered pastas (bolognese and carbonara) and roast chicken. Ordinary food, yes, but with extra-ordinary taste! I am no food critic but I know when I am happy with what's in my plate. And I must say, our tum-tums were rejoicing that night!

White Toblerone Cheesecake! Another must-try!

My accordion letter composed of 9 letters inside. (The things you do for love)

Remember the ripped paper bag I mentioned I was carrying? THAT was the paper bag. It was full of staple wires when I gave it to him. He made fun of it, of course, and said it was So ME. haha!

I have nothing else to write. I am one happy little ninja.

8 years and you still make my heart do cartwheels. :)))))

BORACAY is a place to unwind

2011-08-15T17:56:00.000-07:00

OR NOT!!!

Here is a preview of how unrelaxing and nerve-wracking our 4 days in Boracay had been:

The wooden plank and the sea water, plus some 45 ft. worth of anxiety, fear, regret and adrenaline in between! Oh, and THE DAMAGE. The bruises look terrible, I know, but, and I say this with all honesty, IT WAS SO WORTH IT!

I'll post a blow-by-blow account of this death-defying experience soon! *pinky promise* :)

One 'best thing'

2011-08-08T09:26:00.000-07:00

Today I received some good news. Actually, it was more of confirmation of some good news. It had been lingering on top of my brain for a while now but I never allowed it to fully sink in. I was blocking it, knowing it wouldn’t be good news for everyone else. But for the next few minutes or so, I will be selfish. I will permit myself to be happy, to accept the fact that, standing alone, I deserve this. For a short while, I will think of no one else’s feeling but my own; I owe this to myself.

Two years- while most friends had already shifted jobs, earned close to 6 digits and made a few steps up that corporate ladder, I decided to stick with my first job. I decided to stick with a job that, not only doesn’t give enough benefits, but also demand so much from m

e to the point that leaving the office at 5:30pm entails a certain feeling of guilt.

I stayed for a lot of reasons and this “good news” is one of them:

Priceless feeling: walking up the stage, standing there and seeing your officemates/friends cheer for you. :)

With the other promotees

Liana Igna, Senior Associate

I could not possibly pick the exact word to describe how it felt, waiting at the backstage with all the other promotees. It was a surreal feeling. PURE HAPPINESS, if I may use that line from a famous TV Ad.

Reaching this point wouldn't be possible without the help of other people. More than my bosses (who are really in my life to guide me in my carreer), I appreciate how much my family supported me from day one. There is no way I could have delivered and met my bosses' expectations had my parents been unwilling to pick me up from work ANYTIME (think 4am). That, among many other things they have done to take care of me and make everything else easier for their baby. :))

And to that one person who, even after resigning from the firm, still welcomes busy season blues care of his overworked girlfriend, I couldn’t thank you enough.

From the day I got the news...

... to the day of the firm's anniversary, he stood beside me. He gladly crashed the party in his sleek coat and tie (perfect prom date!) with a bouquet of flowers to surprise his girl. I was beyond touched. :))

There are few things in life I know with absolute certainty.

Very few things.

One of those is that good news or bad, win or lose, you will always be that one person I will run to. You will forever be the tap on the back that will complete my happiness and the shoulder to cry on that can fix me. In Lucas Scott’s words, “You are the person I want beside me when my dreams come true. You are the person I want beside me when they don’t”.

You are one of the best things that ever happened to me.
And all the other best things happened because you are with me.
Thank you for being you.
You are a rarity.

Congratulations to all the promotees! Hard work paid off! :)))

Written on August 4, 2011

8th

2011-08-08T09:24:00.001-07:00

This might not be the perfect moment for me to start writing this anniversary entry. Last night, we got into a pseudo fight. And rather than arguing with you, I chose to just sleep it off. I didn’t say goodnight; I gave up on it and slept.

Which is not exactly a fitting picture to stand side by side with the “mature couple” title. Oh well, I’m writing, anyway.

Today is supposed to be a celebration of the eight wonderful years we spent together. This is supposed to be the part where I write how perfect we are for each other, how easy everything is, how life’s puzzle pieces just miraculously fall into place when I’m with you. This is the day of the year I brag about having the most patient boyfriend. Sure, all those are true- on most days. But now I want to write about the other days.

You are a jealous boyfriend. Your mood changes whenever I mention about those guys we figuratively labeled as “sensitive topics”, even though there is no valid reason for them to belong in that basket. You are also quite sensitive and I get surprised when you feel offended by my innocent remarks. Plus, you are not a very good story-teller. Whenever we talk about how our day went, I would consume most of the hour telling you every detail, in chronological order, of the most boring day. You, on the other hand, will stick into general facts: who, what, where. It is not because you’re trying to cover things up, I know. Like what you say, you are just not gifted with the “skill”. But please, try getting better at it or I’ll be forced to sort of make a checklist for you.

On the other hand, I am, for lack of a better description, a hormonal monster. I shift moods in the most unpredictable way. I say “no” when I meant to say “yes” and I used the words “I’m fine” as code for “I’m devastated”. I am guilty of listening to how I interpret what you say when I’m supposed to be listening to you. And I get annoyed when you don’t look at me when we’re talking WHILE we cross the street. Imagine how unreasonable that is!

But eight years. Wow. Eight years of all that.

When novelists write about “spark” and “magic”, perhaps they don’t necessarily point to the giddy feeling which naturally comes with a young love: the sparkle of the firsts. Perhaps, they were trying to put label into the calm and silent force that pulls two people together, the everyday realization of making it work, the energy to make sacrifices and demand for them, the inner sunshine that makes everything feel better. Perhaps they were trying to illustrate that extra energy you put into a relationship that, when you think about it, comes from nowhere.

Lately I’ve been noticing the smallest of things we STILL do for each other. Suddenly, your “Are you home already?” and “How was your day?” constant texts are magnified. I am still, and will forever be, amazed by the simple clarity of how good we are to each other. I guess that’s the trick. More than the passion that is never really fully present all of the time, it is the special kind of kindness and compassion that we have for each other that keeps us from throwing away the entire relationship when things get difficult- when we are being difficult.

It has been a long time since the first times: the first “official” date, the first kiss, the first kiss and make-up. We may have long gone past the honeymoon stage, but we both know, without a trace of doubt, that the best things are yet come..

..as long as the world turns this way.

Happy 8th anniversary. I love you.

Secret weapon

2011-08-03T09:12:00.000-07:00

He braved the storm, endured traffic and waited an hour and a half just to celebrate with me. Not too long ago, he was the person who waited with me for the biggest news in my student life. Two years, a million hours of overtime and countess clients later, he is still that person I am giddily sharing another good news with. This time around, it is about the biggest milestone in my career to date.

I couldn't have done this without you. You are my secret weapon. I love you.

The things you do for love

2011-08-01T17:24:00.001-07:00

Remember this?

My Valentine's gift for the boyfriend

That was the result of 16 straight hours of labor. It may not appear like I put that much effort in it based on the final product, but believe me, it wasn’t easy! Following intricate instructions in mixing colors, religiously sticking to the number labels (because this is a “paint by numbers” thing), although I cheated on a few tricky parts (sorry!), trying to paint within those tiny flower petals weren’t a joke. It sucked out all the patience in my veins. The box was labeled “for kids 8 yrs old and above”, so I didn’t want to give up being a 22 yr old lola. I pushed myself to paint every bare inch of that huge cardboard and succeeded after so many hours. Fine, it wasn’t the “ego” thing that motivated me; it was all L-O-V-E.

These past days I have been putting so much effort into another project (or projects) intended to make a little boy happy. You see, he has been doing so many of the grandest and smallest things for me and these are just my mediocre ways (compared to his) of giving him back that kind of happiness, too. :)

Anyway, enough of this writing. There’s a surprise I have to cook up. Wish me luck!

Grown-up fears

2011-07-25T22:51:00.001-07:00

I’ve been bothered by unwelcomed visitors in my head, lately. All of us get that, I think: the “You’re too fat”, “You’re not pretty enough”, “You suck at everything” voices in our heads that never really did anything good. Yet, we couldn’t escape their influence. The previous nights, though, those mean monsters decided to be a lot meaner, shifting from “Your thighs are huge” to “You are stuck here forever”.

Now, my thighs I have long accepted (Hear that, monster??), but the idea of being stuck here, in a job like this, IN A JOB LIKE THHIIIIIISSSSS, FOREVER?!?!?! Boy that got me. I was alarmed. I wanted to get a pen and some paper, plot my life plan, set deadlines and make sure that I will get somewhere far- at least far away from where I currently stand career-wise. Don’t get me wrong. I do not totally hate my job; Hate is a strong word. I wouldn’t be able to stay for 2 years (and counting) if it’s that bad. But I am now in a state of absolute certainty that this isn’t for me in the long run, that as much as I find fulfillment in what I am doing, there is no place for a job like this in my future. And in order to re-establish my path towards somewhere else, I have to start eliminating options, focus on fewer things and start as soon as possible.

I am 22 (insert “only” between the last two words) and I am aware of the popular song lyrics that go something like:
Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life…the most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives, some of the most interesting 40 year olds I know still don’t.

Thank you, Baz Luhrmann, for the encouraging words but they do nothing to console my troubled soul.

To be young and clueless- that doesn’t sound bad, right? Sounds like a privilege, even. But there is a point where what used to be an exciting future is transformed into a scary thought- a point I wouldn’t ever want to cross over. I know I shouldn’t worry too much and just grant myself enough time, but when you see everyone else around you moving, transferring, getting lost but at least getting somewhere, it is terrifying.

This year, the boyfriend resigned from the firm and started his own business. He is now what he can proudly claim to be an entrepreneur, which spells everything but cluelessness. He figured out what he wanted to do for the rest of his life at 22. No, scratch that. He knew long before what he wanted and mustered all the courage to start at 22. He now deals with handling employees, taking care of the rent, pleasing his customers and filing his very own income tax return! There was one time, while walking along Taft, I pointed at his shop and asked him if he feels proud whenever he sees it, because, honestly (as cheesy as this sounds), the first time I saw it I felt like crying! It was so surreal; it felt a lot like graduation- only better. At least, one of us is on track. I appreciate his patience and understanding, allowing me to explore options and even listen to my never-ending “someday” monologue. But this ache I feel, the craving for my own turning point, this is not brought about by external pressures; this is all on me.

Therefore, it is only upon me to take action.

I have a vivid picture of how I want my life to be when I hit 28. I have a vision, and maybe for now that would be enough. I know the answer to the millions of hypothetical questions I torture my brain with- in that specified time period and onwards. But for the years between today to that, I am yet to figure out.

Project Stepford Wife: Baby steps!

2011-07-17T07:12:00.000-07:00

I made a deal with the boyfriend weeks ago: I'll learn how to cook. That simple. But for someone who has never, like EVER, fried an egg her whole life, it was everything but simple!

Anyway, since, you know, when you love someone you are kind of under a spell that enables you to go the extra mile for that person... TADAH! My first ever "not-so-yummy-but-at-least-surely-edible" creations!

Fried lumpiang shanghai and (re-heated) lasagna. Baby steps!

Happy tummy = Happy boyfie

We heard the afternoon mass today, and instead of the usual Yellow Cab dinner after, I insisted that we have dinner at home. I dutifully re-heated some pre-cooked (by someone else) lasagna and made lumpiang shanghai. Well, actually, I only "FRIED" it since yaya made them (beef filling, etc) the night before. Hey, don't judge! I have zero kitchen skills so the fact that I did not burn the house down was an accomplishment! :)

While "fyring" the lumpiang shanghai, I turned the stove knob thingy the wrong way and ended up turning it off. I panicked! Good thing, boyfriend was around to save my poor old half-cooked lumpiang shanghais and turned the stove back on! Whew!

I must say I had totally, finally crossed the line between watching cooking shows and doing some actual cooking. Plus, the boyfriend's satisfied look made it all worth it.

Until my next kitchen adventure!

Family Pride

2011-07-14T20:01:00.000-07:00

MY 26-YEAR OLD COUSIN IS IN A FREAKIN’ INQUIRER ARTICLE BY VICKY HERRERA!

My achiever of a cousin. Isn't she pretty, too? :)

When you ponder the question, “What do you do?”—you’ll be surprised where it can lead you to. I met an energetic, friendly 26-year-old girl named Lynn Pinugu. She runs a nonprofit school. I already found this interesting, but learning more about her opened up a whole new world for me.

Read the entire article HERE.

I’m so proud that she is leading a life that matters, AT HER AGE! She has a poor, but purposeful life, while I, well, I’m just poor.

Good Lord, I just want to give my dad his own “cutting out of the newspaper other than my board exam result” moment. Someday. It runs in the family- right, right, that’s what they say.

A Sob Story

2011-07-06T19:21:00.000-07:00

I haven’t come across a movie that made me shed buckets of tears for quite a long while now, until Blue Valentine. Fine, I’m a cry baby, I know. I cried watching Princess Diaries 1. In my defense, movies, especially romantic ones, make me cry happy tears; that ‘aaaawwwww’ kind of overwhelming feeling.

With Blue Valentine, though, it was different. Very different.

From love at first sight to their wedding. And then, it went downhill from there.

Watching it was like watching two movies. Imagine The Notebook and the most heartbreaking movie (think 500 days of summer x 100 level) you know, only use the same characters for both. The Notebook being the beginning of their ever beautiful love story, the other one being the end. And then, combine them, in such a way that they will cross- cut into different time periods. Heart-breaking, I tell you.

There are not enough words in my very limited vocabulary to describe vividly how it made me feel. What I know is that, despite the many obscene parts that may seem too offensive if to be viewed alone, I got past all those awkward moments and was able to dig well into the blatant honesty of this story, embrace the authenticity of the characters and, even with all attempts of preventing it, weep uncontrollably.

The story, in a word, is real.
It is so real statistics will tell you it happens half the time.
Sad, but true.

Happy (?) birthday to meeeee!

2011-07-06T03:10:00.001-07:00

"The only thing more unthinkable than leaving was staying; the only thing more impossible than staying was leaving." - CHOS!

Celebrating 2 years of balancing passion and practicality. I love (?) my job. :))

A Pleasant Idleness

2011-06-20T06:29:00.002-07:00

Good morning, love! :)

(@Pinecrest village, Tagaytay Highlands)

Wake up,
See through the clouds.
Feel the coldness,
Feed on the warmth.
Kiss the sun goodbye.

Waking up to a foggy Sunday morning and to this beautiful view right outside our cabin's porch. A 2-day vacation without any plans- no wake up call, no scheduled activity. Nothing.

When your world usually spins round at double speed, it is, certainly, sweet to be doing nothing once in a while. And the Tagaytay weather sure did spoil us a little bit more.

I love weekends with family.

Love the game, not the player

2011-06-13T17:38:00.000-07:00

I am a weird basketball fan. I do not have a favorite team in any league other than the UAAP only because it feels too weird to cheer for any color other than my school’s. But when it comes to other leagues, such as NBA and PBA, I am just never loyal to a single team. Most times I catch the game on TV and pick the team I’ll cheer for right there, celebrate/mourn for a few minutes depending on the result and move on to the next game afterwards.

In the recent NBA finals, I took the side of Dallas. I just hate James’ guts, I guess. Basketball is a team sport, so any player who doesn’t give importance to team loyalty can never be a great player in my eyes. He may possess all the skills, yes, but he’ll never have the heart of a genuine superstar. And in basketball, the toughest games are decided by that: the heart. So, I was cheering for Dallas the entire NBA Finals. I badly wanted a ring for Jason Kidd and Dirk Nowitzki. I’ve been watching them for years and I’m tired of seeing their names under “The greatest players who never won a championship”. God forbid they be another Karl Malone and John Stockton who were unbelievably good players born in the wrong Era. Michael Jordan’s Era, that is.

I could never count how many times I’ve clicked the ‘refresh’ button to see the latest score in the NBA website. Games were played in the morning so, as expected, I was stuck in the office and couldn’t watch it live. However, I never missed a replay- from start to finish. I knew beforehand who won but it wasn’t merely about winning. Knowing who won is different from seeing who played better. I witnessed how Dallas made the greatest comeback from a 15 point- deficit. I saw how scared Lebron looked in the last quarter of every game. Or was that his default game face? I was amazed by Barea’s skills and bet on his immense potential. Who said a small guy has no place in basketball? He stands at 5’9” but was able to get an offensive foul against a giant like Lebron James in Game 6! And what about Terry. He sure is happy he didn’t have to get that tattoo removed. They succeeded, after all. Dallas got their very first championship.

"We had no champions on this team," Mavs center Tyson Chandler said. "And we walked away with a team full of champions."

So the season is now over. I’ll be waiting for the next one, pick a team to cheer for and do the drill all over again.

I am not like most basketball fans, you see. Because I am exactly, plainly that: a basketball fan. Not a Dallas fan or Celtics fan or any other team’s fan. I love the sport, itself. I don’t get satisfied knowing who won or who made the biggest numbers. I watch the game- from tip off up to the last seconds. I even almost missed an exam in grade school because of a Chicago- Utah finals game. Looking back, I can’t even remember who I wanted to win that time.

Anyway, if you think being a basketball fan without a basketball team is weird, then, by all means, feel free to call me weird.

Trust me, kid

2011-06-12T18:08:00.000-07:00

It is hiring season once again, and even though the number of target hires is not as many compared to that during October, recruitment is still recruitment and I encounter the same stressful scenarios, such as:

1. Being mistakenly identified as an HR staff
2. Having to text so many faceless people and encourage them to join the firm
3. Overriding HR procedures just so we can hire the best people for TROG (tax department)
4. Begging for managers to allot a couple of their precious minutes to interview applicants
5. Relying on ‘first impressions’ and pure intuition when profiling applicants, which is totally not easy!
6. Having to answer personal questions, sometimes relevant, a few times totally not. But I have to answer them anyway because being KIND and APPROCHABLE is kind of in the job description.

And so on and so forth… The list can never get too long, really! But even so, I volunteer to do this- well, actually, I was handpicked to be trained to do this, but then I can back out anytime since I’m not formally a part of the HR team- and willingly subject myself to avoidable stress. And for what?

For the glimpse of my old, idealistic self that I get in practically every applicant I encounter…

For the opportunity of hearing shrieks of pure joy when I get to spill the big news that he/she made it and is now a CPA…

For the many different personalities I encounter, not just of applicants but also of managers, that, at times, tests my patience but gives me a sense of fulfillment every time I decide on being the bigger person and act more maturely…

For the semi-break I get from all the tax reports and queries from clients; it’s a breath of fresh air…

For that fraction of influence I am able to pass on to these kids that may help them in facing the very first decision they will make in the real world…

Sometimes it gets too tiring, what with all the pressure from the big bosses and the raised eyebrows from “real” HR staffs. But whenever I get a text message from an applicant asking for advice, for a personal opinion on picking his/her first job, it reminds me of why I took on this role in the first place. I was once a clueless fresh graduate who had a pretty long list of what I wanted to do in life. I didn’t know where to start; I had no idea how to get to where I wanted to be in 5 years. If not for the strangers (who are now friends and mentors) who patiently gave sincere points of view that helped me made a decision, I probably wouldn’t have made one and just went with the popular choice among my batchmates.

I’m not saying the opinions I got led me to my decision, in the same way I’m not assuming the opinions I gave could seal any applicant’s choice. The bottomline is, every person out there, as clueless as they can be, already has an idea or an inclination towards a career path. For the most part, what one needs is encouragement and a little assurance that it’s okay to make that choice; what they need is a sort of go signal from a person in the real world they can trust. So if, even in the smallest measure, I am able to provide that kind of unassertive guidance to a lone clueless soul, it would definitely make all these extra work worth it. :)

Do something that scares you

2011-06-12T04:28:00.000-07:00

People, meet the newest and sickest ride in Enchanted Kingdom called EKstreme Tower. There is a similar ride in Ocean Park (Hong Kong), The Abyss, that basically scared the hell out of me- just by watching other people who buckled up their crazy assess in it scream like crazy. So, while in line, at the last minute, I chickened out. Friends and boyfriend went for it while I stayed behind as the lame photographer. When I saw this ride in EK I just told myself, "Not again". I bought the ticket, went for it, buckled myself, stomached the effin' free fall and got off with a brave heart!

Really, some things in life you don't have to think over. You just have to do it. It sure felt awesome.

Fringe Benefit

2011-05-26T19:29:00.000-07:00

Salary is no doubt an essential consideration when accepting a job. This, for the majority, makes waking up early every morning and dealing with all the stress worth it. Come payday, employees have a bright smile plastered across their faces, feeling all compensated and fulfilled.

Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for myself.

For a hundred times over, I’ve heard people speculate that I am getting wealthier what with all the overtime work hours. FYI, people, I don’t get paid for the actual hours I worked. My salary doesn’t even measure up to that of a call center agent. They receive night differential bonuses when given an odd shift while I, on the other hand, don’t receive any benefit whatsoever for working OVERNIGHT. Add to that the fact that I have to endure forcing my brain to function in an AC-less room! (Just because air conditioners are switched off right after 5:30pm. Buti pa sila they can rest! Ack!) The feeling of discomfort is enough to pass it up as TORTURE! Desk fans are suddenly eyed as treasures. You grab one within your reach, without consideration to whoever is the owner. Okay, I have to stop right here before this turns into a messy rant box.

So why am I, after almost 2 years, still here? Why do I willingly subject myself to such, for lack of a better term, exploitation? Believe me, I’ve asked myself a thousand times only to end up with the same response, which I can state in less than 7 words, but this time, I'd rather let these pictures share the answer:

Half of the gang in a spur-of-the-moment photoshoot

L-R: Tin, Myself, Eloisah sans Ronnie (the photographer), Lance and Mae

You can flash that overflowing-with-zero pay slip of yours and I’ll slap you with these pictures, while drooling over your moolah, of course. But hey, we are too young and too careless to seriously mind about the income we are foregoing today in turn of our poor man’s salary. Our hearts are still contented with the fringe benefit we get from rounds of tummy-aching laughters, comforting and not-so-comforting words care of our brutal honesty and just about every other amazing thing a friendship offers.

You see, we are a bunch of clueless yuppies who are yet to find our true calling in life. For the mean time, we enjoy being slaves to this grueling job of ours, offering sweat and tears for the satisfaction of our dear gods. We complain, oh we do a lot of that; we are a bunch of babbling prisoners. But as long as the metal ball and chain strapped on our feet is the FRIENDSHIP that has naturally blossomed throughout the years, we will remain as the babbling/crabby/HAPPY prisoners that we are today.

Cheers to this friendship!

Litol Kiddos No More

2011-05-17T01:09:00.000-07:00

There is that stained scrapbook picture, or a silly remark from a friend recounting old times. Sometimes, it comes from seeing a memento you’ve kept through the years. Regardless of form, whenever something that reminds you of age appears, it hits you at the softest spot. And you know there is nowhere to go but down. Well, down the memory lane, that is.

In my case, what has been dragging me to accept the harsh reality that I am not getting any younger are my youngest cousins. You see, they just live next door but whenever I see them, I still get a little surprised on how fast they grow up, and, needless to say, how fast I grow old.

Alyza and Alyna

I held them all in my arms, those 3 angels, when they were so small you think the smallest movement could break their bones. The summer afternoons after Alyza, the eldest, was born, I spent mostly at their house. I relentlessly bug her yaya to teach me how to carry a baby. I was the youngest in our family so I was terribly excited to have a little person I can take care of.

While they were growing up, I became their constant playmate, the ultimate spoiler. I would buy them gifts for no reason other than wanting to be the favorite ate. And I succeeded in being the one, if I may say. They would storm into my room, make a mess of my bed and I wouldn’t get the least irritated. The 2 girls would watch HSM on Disney channel in my room for a hundred times and the little boy, little may not be a fitting term as you would notice in the picture, wouldn’t complain as long as he had food to munch on.

These days, I get home, walk inside the house after a long day and hear no footsteps marching behind me. I don’t hear little voices asking me if I have work the next day every single night, as if it’s possible for them to hear a ‘No’. And, their reactions, the constant bugging for me to spill the truth of just going out for dates and not working whenever I leave on Saturdays, sometimes Sundays, their naivety of not being able to fathom the idea that one has to work (or simply do anything) on weekends, are priceless.

I bid farewell to my three angels as they migrated with their mom to Canada. I knew long before about their plans of moving but I guess I never let it fully sink in. I cried the day they left. I cried a couple more times the days after that. More than the fact that I’ll miss them, it is the worrying that gets to me the most. They are with their mom, I know. But it’s still different when they are around for me to look after. I feel helpless and, to an extent, I felt they didn’t need their Ate, anymore.

I already miss them; those three little people who annoyingly follow me around the house, who broke all those coffee mugs, who tore the cover of our magazines, who ate breakfast and heard the mass with us every Sunday, who, for years, had been causing all the wonderful chaos in our house. This year would certainly be different and somehow lonely, what with the children-less Christmas and holidays. It would be a heart-rending adjustment. I guess I’ll just have to save for round trip CA tickets! ASAP!

One of the many times I splurged in feeding these kids' monster tummies!

He would certainly pass as my youngest brother, right? (Taken last Christmas)

Oh, and thank God for Skype.

Because it's her day...

2011-05-07T10:47:00.000-07:00

Today is Mothers’ Day and I can’t help but recall the night I shared an amazing conversation with my mom.

‘Your dad and I got secretly married’, she told me some ten years ago, ‘10 months before our actual church wedding.’ I was shocked, partly since I never knew anyone would stop had they wanted to get married anytime so there wasn’t a need to hide it, but mostly because the most responsible person I know just confessed that she once acted irresponsibly and in what could have been the biggest mistake of her life, at that! She went on telling the whole story and I ended up having a bestfriend.

From that conversation on, I knew my mom would be the person I can run to for anything. I knew that past her protective core, she can and will understand my naivety and vulnerability. She will never judge. She will get mad. Yes, she will do a lot of the nagging, but never will she judge. Because take all the negative things together and she’ll still find her way to the good intentions placed at the bottom of my heart. And for mothers, those are always good enough.

Today is Mothers’ Day and I can enumerate all the things you do for me every single day, ever since God knows when, but that would be too long a list. I’ll just pick the most important one:

More than caring for and loving me, thank you for KNOWING me. We may not have a perfect relationship but we have one. And I don’t think every mother-daughter pair can say that. But because of your amazing ways of balancing discipline and compassion, liberty and guidance, selflessness and distance, we have built a connection this strong. I have no idea how you do it and I look forward to the day you’ll be guiding me when it’s my finally turn. Because if I would be half the mom you are to me, my kids will be more than okay.

Happy Mothers’ Day! I love you.

Genuine

2011-05-07T07:46:00.000-07:00

‘Happy' cannot possibly cover how you truly make me feel.

See that smile? It’s neither picture perfect nor primary photo worthy. But that’s beside the point. That smile right there is my truest smile; the I-can’t-help-but-crinkle-my-nose grin that radiates overflowing joy.

Thank you for being the person who does the biggest and smallest of things to paint that kind of smile on my face. Your love is a rarity.

Alter Ego

2011-04-30T22:52:00.000-07:00

There are certain emotions I would have to get out of my system. Although, there is that voice of fear growling inside my head, telling me I might get into some kind of trouble for this, in case (God forbid) the twisted scenario building up in my equally twisted brain comes to life. I may not explicitly mention the name of the Company here, but I have, in so many instances, pointed out in what firm I am currently employed. So, for a win-win picture, I came up with this scenario:

I am not Liana. I am a girl who looks like Liana, who shares the same sentiments with Liana, who is as overworked, as frustrated, as confused as Liana. But that is mere coincidence. To be clear, let me mention once again, this is not Liana writing.

Now, hear me out.

Can one day change your entire career plan?

Yesterday, I got the worst news; the kind of news that could drain all your energy. I was demotivated, to say the least. Nothing does that better than knowing you are not given the importance you deserve, or even the slightest consideration. I was going through my career plans in my head, kind of like a flashforward of decisions I had in line, and picked that point from where everything would have to change. My heart fluttered, not in a good way, knowing it would certainly be a drastic adjustment. I can go on delaying it, but what’s the use of staying with people who do not give importance to the things that are important to you. So, I made up my mind, set an ultimatum and marked this day as the day that changed everything.

The next day I had a one-on-one discussion with one of my bosses. He’s my favorite and most respected boss, at that. It was for a firm-wide required feedback system. I felt nervous, knowing he will be downright honest, as he always is. I just prayed he wouldn’t eat me alive.

We started with the usual self-assessment and then he went on pointing-out specific aspects of our engagement. I was ready to hear negative comments. Instead, I got something better than a “good job” statement. He said I exceeded his expectations. He said he didn’t think it was my first time to write such reports. He said he had an easy time editing and reviewing my work because it was already comprehensive. All I managed to say was, “Yey, thank you po.”. I even made a few silent claps while uttering those words. How mature of me!

After the feedback process, it was my turn to voice-out my opinions/suggestions. I was hesitant, at first. But I told myself, if I don’t say anything I would lose all the right to complain. So I went ahead and said everything. I chose my words carefully so as not to sound like a rantbox, but I made sure I send my message across. I felt relieved.

Can one day change your entire career plan?

Yes, it can. Even just a phone call can. But I was wrong, at first, in picking the day I’ll allow to change my plans. It wasn’t and shouldn’t be yesterday. It is today. It is the day my most respected boss told me I did a good job. It is hearing straight from his mouth that I exceeded his expectations. I may have underperformed in other engagements, mismanaged priorities; I may have been less obedient than I should have in other circumstances, but I can accept that. I am not asking for pure praises. Criticisms, I can take. I even welcome them so as to be given the opportunity to work on myself. I was just waiting for a one-liner pick-upper. Just something with form, like spoken words, I can hold unto when I am doubting myself.

One day changed my career plans. One boss showed me how a truly respectable boss should act. Today I come to a decision that life is too short to stay in the wrong job; and that there is a right job, in the right time, out there.

I can’t wait.

Be careful what you wish for…

2011-04-18T23:34:00.000-07:00

Fine. Go ahead. Finish it with that irritating Pussy Cat Dolls rhythm in your head.

Not too long ago I prayed for uncertainties, for risk-taking worthy opportunities. To an extent, I pleaded for instability, for a year of rising and falling. The past year had been too good to me I wanted a rough ride for a change.

Merely 3 months into 2011, and dear heavens, did I get what I wanted.

In 90 days…

I lost an officemate boyfriend (boyfriend title still safe).

I took the first step towards my secret mission.

I re-learned syllogism, number sequence analogy and abstract reasoning all because of the same secret mission.

I booked 3 trips, every single one out of promo fare pressure.

I witnessed how the boyfriend managed to build a business of his own from nothing.

I shoved up a middle finger to the busy season and filed a week-long leave, took off to Davao and fell in love with Pearl Farm.

I put everything on the line only to find out I had no one to bet on against because we were all on the same side, after all.

I watched in vain how the boyfriend pulled himself together and remained strong through his mom’s operation and recovery.

I decided to quit my job seven times and decided against the idea twice as often as I thought about it.

I bid farewell to my three angels.

And I’ve been holding my aching tummy whenever the fickle brother raises the subject of marriage out of excessive laughter and lack of air.

2011, I’m not taking my plea back. I’ve matured more in the past 3 months than I did in all of 2010. What I ask now is more patience and strength and a deeper faith in happy endings. Those virtues I don’t ever want to lose.

Nine more months are left to unfold. I, for one, can’t wait.

Substance over Form

2011-03-17T18:04:00.001-07:00

These are probably the crappiest iPhone-taken pictures, ever. But, who cares? We learned, not too long ago, that in legal matters and everything else out there, Substance card trumps the Form card. EVERYTIME.

They make work more than bearable. I love these crazy people to pieces.

2011-03-14T01:27:00.000-07:00

Just because only one other soul in the entire universe fully understands the significance of this day and remembering dates happens to not be his thing and I don't ever want to forget how happy we both are today and there is still that very small chance my memory might fail me, I am posting this as a reminder that prayers are truly answered and love should never, ever be underestimated.

Thank you, Big Guy up there!!!

A series of unfortunate events

2011-03-10T17:38:00.000-08:00

Today seems like an eternity of one bad news after another. And I am not ranting about shallow inconveniences such as managing to spill Nai Cha all over my white top, finding out my running shoes and gym clothes went missing and dealing with someone who doesn’t possess people management skills, because ALL of those happened yesterday. Today is stitched by misfortunes of the grandest scale, all of which are happening to that one person I would gladly carry any cross for. And it sucks.

It sucks that I am here in the office and not with him. It sucks that I can’t hold his hand through the rest of this day. It sucks that I would have to put on a brave face when all I want is 5 minutes to let all the anxiety out before I lift my head up again. It sucks that I am the one more terrified, more worried, more restless and he’s just steady, calm as ever, blazing through this cursed day in his attempt to make everything better.

I am doing my best to act cool, calm and collected- offering help to lighten up the burden without being too pushy. I know this day will end on a better note. Until then, I will keep all the concerns to myself. Tomorrow I will tell him how cold my hands were while I worried about him, how I can’t even silence my own brain, how I was not able to function the entire day and basically how this firm paid me for doing nothing. Tomorrow we will laugh about all of this.

Today, I’ll just pray.

Buy the ticket, take the ride.

2011-03-06T07:04:00.000-08:00

Celebrating life everyday, EVERYWHERE.

I am not a photographer so don’t expect much artistry.

I do not own a DSLR so don’t fuss about picture quality.

Although, I am in love with anything that involves hopping on a speeding means of transportation to anywhere. I love getting burnt to a crisp by the scorching summer heat. I love jumping out of a wrecked motor boat without a life vest. I love the rustic smell of small-town museums. I love hoarding pasalubongs and forgetting for whom they are. I love getting away as much as I love going back. And I love the fact that I am fortunate enough to have resources to travel and I have wonderful people in my life to travel with.

This love is a fairly young love. And HERE is where I intend to document the stories.

(Visit my tumblr acount for travel pictures. )

Taking a Breather

2011-02-26T19:45:00.000-08:00

Going into of a 5-day work-free vacation can be a little bit overwhelming. I was excessively excited a couple of weeks before I take off to Davao with my mom and a close friend of hers, who is also the boyfriend’s aunt (small world, right?). But as the date was nearing, excitement was slowly transforming into anxiety. I worked weekend after weekend just to make sure I would cover all my responsibilities. Filed vacation leaves and all, I still felt a tinge of guilt having to be absent and not take part in the teams’ responsibilities. I was getting too anxious to the point I had to text my staff, right before I board the plane, to check if everything was going smoothly. Second work-related text I sent the same time I first set foot into the beautiful city of Davao.

And then I allowed, or sort of forced, myself to let go.

Almost 2 years in the work force, add the fact that I’m still with my first employer, everything can get pretty repetitive and exhausting at times. Seeing friends move on to other opportunities can add to the anxiety that builds up whenever I feel like being left behind. I fear waking up one day and realizing that every single soul has overtaken me. Taking a break brought me back to my senses and landed me right into the very reason why I stayed in the first place.

I enjoyed my much deserved break, especially the conversations I had with my mom. A week passed since then; I had 20 hours of sleep the past 5 days. I feel exhausted, yes, but without the slightest intention to quit. You know how people say you should sleep it off and everything gets better the next day? That’s very true. Even though sometimes it takes more than just a good night's sleep, the point is, we all deserve a break; a short period of time to step out of the picture, look from the outside and allow ourselves to miss it. At the end of the day, we only need to be reminded of the reason why we have been holding on for too long. And that reason, whatever it is, makes it all worth it.

There will always be that one girl

2011-02-26T19:17:00.000-08:00

Take any Friday night. Pick a comfortable spot; restaurant or maybe a coffee shop. Then, put girls in the picture. Regardless of interest and profession, mind you, the conversation will inevitably lead into boys/boyfriends. And, boyfriend talk will, and I’m willing to bet on this, always, always lead into that one girl.

That girl who, in whatever way, intentionally or unintentionally, messed up a phase in your relationship. That girl who is the clingy “bestfriend”. That girl who is incapable of perceiving that red line between friend and girlfriend. That girl who doesn’t even lift a finger in stealing your man but you just know it in your heart that she secretly longs to be with him. That girl who, in a parallel universe, could have been the one in the arms of your man. And I can go on and on rationalizing about this ill feeling but the truth is, take all the reasons out, there will always be that one girl who personifies the word “threat” in your relationship.

I am one of the fortunate girls whose relationship was never bothered by third parties. But even so, I am not an exception to the unwritten rule of having “That one girl” whose name my boyfriend isn’t even allowed to utter. I have been bothered by her, or at least the idea of her, for the longest time I willingly admit it’s no longer healthy. Her status updates affect my mood, her daring pictures make me hate my body, her flirtatious ways make me want to strap my boyfriend in a chair even though he doesn’t even look. In all fairness to the boyfriend, he doesn’t give the slightest care about this girl and he laughs at the fact that I get jealous and insecure of a girl he doesn’t even find attractive.

This year, despite my lack of belief in the possibility of New Year’s Resolutions being successful, I promised myself I would let go of the idea of her being better slash more attractive slash more interesting slash more deserving than myself. I started shaky, riding on the loop of checking out everything that’s happening with her what with all the social networks that make it possible. But after the constant effort and constant reassurance form the boyfriend, I actually, finally, successfully removed her from my system. I have too much to think about to continuously carry her ghost in my life.

So, the first milestone of my 2011 is getting over you. Yes, you.

Walang Kupas :))

2011-02-20T07:15:00.000-08:00

I was going through old multiply entries, feeling all nostalgic, when I came across this:

Excerpt from this entry

I wrote those words 3 years ago and every word stands true until this very day. You want proof?

The boyfriend gave me this beautiful long-stemmed rose the day after Valentine's day. He's still right about me least expecting it. I always underestimate him. I never learn.

You crazy you.
I love you. :))

Let me tell you why you shouldn't resign

2011-02-15T20:09:00.000-08:00

I know this would probably no longer count, since you have submitted your resignation letter already. But hear me out!

1. No one will do your signature “she’s taken” hand on my shoulder move when a guy comes too close. And that comes pretty handy especially during the recruitment season. Who will drop the boyfriend bomb for me now?

2. Last time I checked, there is not a single branch of Travel Café, Mr. Rockefeller and Toastbox around that area. You’ll be stuck with Café Breton for comfort food. You don’t want that.

3. It will be too painful, to the point of being almost tormenting, to see your name there, in my list of ST contacts and not be able to reach you with a chatbox. And deleting you is not an option!

4. You have no one to bug you in the morning about having an early lunch break only to ditch you because of loads of unexpected work that came later on. Ok, this is not exactly a positive thing but you have got to miss that, right?

5. You have to live without your action movie urges on an office night. You have no gf only 5 floors away to ambush with late movie invites and no favorite movie house around the corner, too. Poor you.

6. Banana Republic, Celio, Kenneth Cole and Springfield will no longer be your neighbors. No more instant retail therapy for you!

7. Being in love with you is one thing. Walking 3 blocks and back just to buy you Nai Cha is an entirely different level of devotion! No one will do that for you, you crazy milk tea addict!

8. Our petty tiffs will surely be extended, what with all the craziness distance can bring into a relationship. You will be too busy and I will be too stubborn. And there’s no 20-minute Ayala Ave. walkathon we can take anytime just too calm ourselves down, anymore.

9. On the days you are too exhausted, too burned out and lacking sleep for too many days, there will be no more “If you don’t leave the bed, we won’t get to see each other” text to comfort you and give you the energy to face another working day.

I can go on and on, lengthening this list in a desperate attempt to change your mind for the benefit of your selfish girlfriend, but I won’t. Because I don’t want to. Nagpapacute lang ako sayo. :)

Now the serious part…

Despite and in spite of all the uncertainties, I never said “think about it” or “are you sure about this?” and other discouraging phrases. Because, even though all these were floating on top of my brain, the moment you told me your plans, I felt that certainty in your voice only people who have figured out what they truly wanted can sound like. Deep inside, past layers and layers of sentiments, self-centered reasons and fears, mostly about missing you to death, I am happy for you. I am happy you have found what you can truly be passionate about. And I can’t be any more proud that you possess the courage to pursue it. Certainly, adjusting to not having you around will be bloody difficult, but we are in this relationship not just for the lovey dovey part. Above everything, we are here to help each other become the best version of ourselves.

So scratch all of the above stated reasons because they do not matter. I promise you I’ll drop the boyfriend bomb myself when some lame guy dares take a step too close. I promise to always be on the look-out for Greenbelt sales and be very willing to buy a couple of pieces for you when you aren’t available to check them out yourself. I promise to, once in a while, reserve tickets for testosterone-filled movies that suit your taste, despite the palpitation I get from deafening gun shots. Emphasis on once in a while. I promise to make time for unplanned dinner dates even during the busiest busy season and never let sleep deprivation be an excuse to not spend time with you. And we’ll find new favorite places to eat, new favorite spots to share a cup of coffee, new favorite reading nook and all that.

I promise to remain your comfort and your partner, through ups and downs and ordinary days. And I promise to remain faithful, not just as a girlfriend, but as a believer of everything you can become.

There.
I love you.
Make all those ‘eventualities’ happen.
And best of luck.

In a parallel universe

2011-01-24T16:34:00.000-08:00

In a parallel universe, I am submitting Cvs after CVs in publishing houses and newspaper companies. I am certain I wouldn’t have to wait long for an ideal first job. After all, I spent 4 years honing my craft with a BA degree in Creative Writing and in Ateneo, at that.

In a parallel universe, I am flying in and out of the country, immersing myself in a variety of cultures. Because in my kind of career, imagination is everything and nothing fires up imagination more than experiencing new things in a foreign place.

In a parallel universe, I am single- by choice. And only because no man can tolerate my ever-changing whims, my relationship with books, my thirst for adventure and my constant need to be alone.

In a parallel universe, I am a free-spirit, blazing through each day without any plans for tomorrow. Hell, I don’t even know where I’ll end up in the next hour.

In a parallel universe rest all things I didn’t do, every option I turned my back on; it is where all opportunity costs get booked (sorry for the jargons). It is that ‘lifetime’ Jodi Piccoult was referring to when she wrote ‘Change of heart’. And I can go on and on, sentence after sentence, but Piccoult got it in one breath:

In between yes and no, there is a lifetime.

That lifetime will haunt you down on nights like this one; when silence is not called for and nothing else is worth remembering. That lifetime will pull you back to the roots you thought were long cut and thrown away. That lifetime has the power to make long- forgotten feelings re-resurface.

That lifetime can break you but there is a cure to the curse. That is, waking up to a reality that is far better than every alternative in all of any multiverse. Better, meaning, worth it.

These thoughts used to hardly ever visit me. But lately, they crash into my brain like a thief in the night. I wouldn’t go as far as using the word ‘haunted’, “reminded” is a more fitting term.

The idea of having made different decisions in a far-off planet reminds me of the several branched- out paths I abandoned. Seeing people who, in reality, tread on those courses sometimes mess with my brain. But at the end of the day, give me a rocket ship to that other universe and I’ll surely end up selling it to someone else.

For every YES are a hundred other NOs. A YES wouldn’t mean a thing if you couldn’t stand up for the NOs that come with it. The theory of a parallel universe is tempting; the concept of anything other than what is here and now is always hopeful.

But it isn’t real.

Press PLAY

2011-01-16T05:44:00.000-08:00

3 hours. A Venti drink. And a book that is just too lovely.

Here, meet:
So, Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist has been a really pleasant surprise. I would want to try writing a review on it but this is all I got:

Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist is written by Rachel Cohn and David Levithan. It is intended mainly for young adults. In 180 pages, it told a story, a pretty amazing story, of boy meets girl. You should read it because I have read a tall heap of books in my life and I have never found one that used the words Fuck/Fucking/Dick/Shit for like 10,000 times and still managed to sound beautifully romantic, until this one.

So go, find a copy of this infinite playlist and press play.

"Some things you don't need to hear in order to hear. The mind has an ear of its own and sometimes memory is the fiercest fucking DJ alive."
— Rachel Cohn

"Singing in the rain. I'm singing in the rain. And it's such a fucking glorious feeling. An unexpected downpour and I am just giving myself into it. Because what the fuck else can you do? Run for cover? Shriek and curse? No--when the rain falls you just let it fall and you grin like a madman and you dance with it because if you can make yourself happy in the rain, then you're doing pretty alright in life."
- David Levithan

Girl Talk over Kopi and Teh

2011-01-16T05:07:00.000-08:00

Yes, that’s right: Kopi and Teh. At least, according to the menu board in Toastbox.

The façade of the newly-opened Toastbox café/restaurant in Greenebelt 5 caught the attention of my officemates. So, one Friday night, after the tug of war between going and not going, we all agreed to give it a try.

Now, if you are dying to know just how good their Kaya toast or Iced Teh C is, I’ll tell you their food and drinks are amazing. But that is all you will ever get on the subject of food here. You are so wrong to think this is about a feast of flavors, because this actually delves on a feast that is friendship.

I have always believed on the promise of a Friday night until I actually started working. Friday night life isn’t always loud and sparkly. Sometimes, it is just boring and tiresome and extended work hours. Other times, though, it can be amazingly unplanned, comfortably unrehearsed and just purely unforgettable. Like the Friday night Toastbox dinner bonding we just had.

We were a group of 9. We started on nonsense talking and complaining and what not. Until now I can’t recall what started it, but at one point in between babbles, we just steered into the most intriguing topic of all: love. Actually, the other 6 officemates continued on their own “most intriguing topic”, which I wasn’t able to hear what about, but us, 3 girls, were left glued to that 4 letter word.

We chatted about first meetings, the highschool sweetheart phase, the era of picture messages, screen savers and ringtones. We dove into each subject with gleaming eyes and too many stories. We had different points of view but there wasn’t a time for argument. We were just talking. We were sharing our stories and not proving a point or asking any opinion. We never had to worry about the awkward silence or running out of words. Gulping for air, stories after stories, was more of the problem. We giggled about “proposals”, cursed people in our past, laughed at each other’s absurdities until it got too late we had to leave.

We left the restaurant, walked back to the office, knowing and understanding each other a lot more. I found the words forming in my head: It was some night, huh.

Work rants and salary babbles are nothing new on this blog. But this, this is a glimpse of how I manage to survive and actually enjoy a seemingly merciless job. I know one day I will surrender to the harsh reality that I’ve been using these people as a plastic strip to cover a hole in me only professional fulfillment can heal. On that day, I will move on to better opportunities and to a more manageable career. But I would never have to worry about missing these people. Our attachment certainly goes way beyond the confines of a 15 story building we call workplace. We have gone beyond being friends until the clock strikes 5:30 every afternoon. We are friends. Plain. Simple. Unforced. And I see many, many Friday nights like this one in our future, officemates or no longer. *Pinky promise*

What I've been telling myself all year (A last look at 2010)

2011-01-12T16:23:00.000-08:00

I was in a constant battle on how I should get my year-ender message across. Choosing among per category, per month and just all in one blow took me almost the entire first half of this month. So, before this gets a little too late, I opted to do this in the most painless way.

Here is a list of all the sensible and not-so-sensible things I learned and un-learned the past year:

1. There are days that start with over the top crappiness but that doesn’t mean the rest of it will be a series of unfortunate events. It only takes a compliment from a friend, a hug from the boyfriend, a positive comment from the boss and, perhaps, a cup of warm coffee to turn it all around. But you will never find out if you choose to stay in the sheets and hide behind curtains feeling sorry for yourself. So, leave the bed, get in the shower and believe that something wonderful can happen everyday.

2. Saving up not only takes discipline, but a concrete, time-bound and realistic goal-setting. You cannot put aside money just for “something”. Resisting temptation from all the glittering stuff would be too hard that way. Rather, save for something worth splurging for. The goal is not to not spend, but to not spend foolishly.

3. A Starbucks a day costs P150 on the average. Mini Stop has Chillz that, although not as delightful as green tea frappe, tastes surprisingly good, charged with enough caffeine and costs only P26. Enough said.

4. As much as possible, do not listen to songs with lyrics that are familiar to you while working. You might be singing only in your head, but your brain cells subconsciously prompt your fingers to type random lyrics in queries and notes to reviewers. And there is no possible valid excuse to writing “The Company subjected it’s a love story to withholding tax” in any output or to any reviewer.

5. There will be trials that seem endless and merciless and pointless. Like the forever challenging annualization of wages, reconciling BIR assessments and settling whatever troubles government officials create just so businessmen will be confused with their taxes and inevitably seek the services of equally confused CPAs like myself. But, at the end of the day, nothing is more fulfilling than getting all of it done.

6. Missing deadlines is not the only negative result of lacking time management skills. For every extra hour you put into work, you steal from the precious few you have left for family, friends and loved ones. So master the art of efficiency and give the best part of your day to those who deserve it.

7. It is in your nature to always see the good side in everything. Some people don’t get that. Most people assume you just sugar-coat everything and simply lack guts. But you know you are being true to yourself because that is your sappy idealist self speaking. Although, you have limits, as well. You can be painfully honest, to the point of being brutally so, when the situation calls for it. That is another part of you, too.

8. There is a reason why it takes you 2 years to use up a faceshop face powder and a lifetime to replace your pretty when pinched cheek tint from Bench. You are the laziest when it comes to cosmetics and hair softeners and the rest of those “beauty products”. I get that you will never be the dolled up Barbie some girls are. But there is that boy who loves staring at you and your too bare of a face. It wouldn’t hurt to put a little powder, tint and gloss to make him stare longer.

9. It is worth shelling out hard-earned money for traveling. The experiences you get, the memories you build, those will stick to you longer than material things ever would. So, save up, book a flight and runaway with your favorite people as much as you can, while you can.

10. Live your dreams and wear your passion. You do not have to answer to anyone but yourself. It doesn’t matter if they don’t understand or they don’t give as much importance to the things that are important to you. In the end, it is about having the courage to live up to your very own definition of happiness.

Reading everything I have written at this point, I sincerely enjoyed looking back at the highlights and low points of the past year and gathering up words to sum it up in a couple of sentences. Seems like, I found another tradition to keep in the coming years. 2010 had been such a good year in a complete package. I look forward to 2011 with a big smile in my face and these words in my pocket:

Wherever I go, I’ll go there with all my heart.

That’s my mantra this year.

Cheers to a passionate year of making risks, reading books, surprising the world, making new friends, staying in love, saving then spending, learning from mistakes, writing my heart out and 365 cups of coffee (or more)!

Our Tagalog theme song, finally

2011-01-06T16:06:00.000-08:00

It took Keng and I years to find our perfect theme song, which we came across after watching Serendipity for the nth time. It was "When you know" by Shawn Colin. We stumbled upon that song again just when we were ready to take the step and know for certain there's no way we'll be turning back.

The other week, I heard this independent artist over the radio. He was plugging about his album which he sells himself. Like, through meet-ups and gigs. He was Johnoy Danao. And after singning a couple of songs he got me hooked. But, after singing this particular one, which he composed himself, I was head over heels in love with him.

Listen and fall in love:

http://soundcloud.com/johnoydanao/ikaw-at-ako-live-magic89-9-good-times-dec-29

IKAW AT AKO

Ikaw at ako, pinagtagpo
Nag-usap ang ating puso
Nagkasundong magsama habangbuhay.
Nagsumpaan sa Maykapal
Walang iwanan, tag-init o tag-ulan
Haharapin bawat unos na mag-daan.
Sana'y di magmaliw ang pagtingin
Kaydaling sabihin , kayhirap gawin
Sa mundong walang katiyakan
Sabay natin gawing kahapon ang bukas.
Ikaw at ako, pinag-isa
Tayong dalwa may kanya kanya
Sa isa't-isa tayo ay sumasandal
Bawat hangad kayang abutin
Sa pangamba'y di paaalipin
Basta't ikaw, ako
Tayo magpakailanman.
Kung minsan ay di ko nababanggit
Pag-ibig ko'y di masukat
Ng anumang lambing
At kung magkamali akong ika'y saktan
Puso mo ba'y handang magpatawad
Di ko alam ang gagawin kung mawala ka
Buhay ko'y may kahulugan
tuwing ako'y iyong hagkan
Umabot man sating huling hantungan
Kapit-puso kitang hahayaan
Ngayon at kailanman
Ikaw at ako.

It is impossible not to be touched by this song. I am declaring it as our official Tagalog theme song, with or without the boyfriend's approval. (hehe) The words are just too real, the melody perfectly classic. Ahhhhh, I'm in love with this song! Johnoy Danao, you are a genius!

Sabay natin gawing kahapon ang bukas.- Johnoy Danao

My very own Great Perhaps

2010-12-31T17:59:00.000-08:00

Perfect book in a perfectly empty coffee shop

I read “Looking for Alaska” months ago, but as I try looking back at the year that was, I can’t help but pull it out of my disorganized bookshelf and run through a few parts. You see, I have this habit of highlighting sentences, even entire paragraphs, in books that really made marks on me. Not to memorize or anything, it just makes re-visiting books much easier. Like today.

Reading anew transported me back to the very moment I started flipping the pages of this John Green novel:

My head was comfortably resting on his leg with his hand running through my hair, as if serving as our physical connection since we were both lost into each other’s books. I was reading the first pages of Looking for Alaska when I came across the words “Great Perhaps”. It was on page 5. Somehow those words hit me. So I grabbed my highlighter and marked them. I even read the paragraph aloud for the boyfriend, stealing a few seconds from his own reading.

It was a borderline sunny and rainy afternoon. I was with my favorite person. With a coffee shop all to ourselves. How could I think about anything related to a Big Maybe? Because here with me was what used to be my Great Perhaps.

I know this is, like, supposed to be a flashback of the year we just left behind and I intend to write about that, too, if time permits. But when it comes to “us”, I truly could not draw a line between years. It’s like a before and after. And “Looking for Alaska” reminded me of our before.

(I am the worst at book reviews, so this is not going to be one. This is just pieces of the novel that stick with me until today. If you are looking for a good review better check the net.)

Highschool is where people expect you to do the most stupid things and live the most interesting parts of your story. Saying it that way, perhaps, I haven’t lived up to everyone’s expectation. I was pretty much the boring A student. I was part of the honor roll, wrote for the school paper and was handpicked by the Principal as the student to take her place on Teacher’s day. Lame, right? In my defense, I also played for the Varsity (basketball) and was an adopted member of the cheering squad. Perhaps, I was busy juggling too many things to give time for those “interesting” stories.

So, I barely went out on weekends. I barely slept on class. I cheated, yes, but only on homeworks. I was never the classmate who had the most fascinating stories on disobeying school rules and highschool rebellion. I have a clean record, so you know. But, before you judge my little miss perfect ass, I did something, in highschool, something our concerned parents and over-protective brothers and skeptic friends all warned us about:

I fell in love.

We were young and naïve, surrounded by a bubblewrap of invincibility. We weren’t even allowed to take hold of a steering wheel yet we dared take hold of each others’ hearts. Hell, that was stupid. But it was the best time to be stupid.

"Those awful things are survivable, because we are as indestructible as we believe ourselves to be. ... We need never be hopeless, because we can never be irreparably broken. We cannot be born, and we cannot die. Like all energy, we can only change shapes and sizes and manifestations. They forget that when they get old. They get scared of losing and failing. But that part of us greater than the sum of our parts cannot begin and cannot end, and so it cannot fail." - Looking for Alaska

Christmas Party Trilogy

2010-12-24T10:30:00.000-08:00

Since this post is late and I don't have the brains to find the right words, I'll let the pictures do the talking. Teehee

Part I: The MC2 Wild, Wild, West Cowboy Christmas Parteyy!

When: December 7, 2010
Where: SMX Center

In line with the theme, we had a Cowboy costume contest. The requirements were they had to be a pair and they should have a prepared tagline. Want to know what's ours?

"Forget the horse, ride the Cowboy!" Now that's a winning line right there! ha!

Eliosah showing off her P3,000 raffle price. Hmm, I kinda won P5,000 that night. Lucky me!

Batch 2010 already seemed bonded! Nice!

Still, Batch 2009 is ze best!!!

Everic feeling Haciendero.

Rye (mas) feeling Haciendero.

Danilo and Darel in their signature poses.

Cluster pic for finale!

Part II: Get your GLEEK on! SGV Tax Christmas Party

When: December 13, 2010
Where: AIM

Tina modeling our hats! Winner ang hats, right??

Girls even wore Christmas balls as earrings for the added effect. But, sadly, we didn't win. :(

Batch 2009 as THE PERFECT 10!!

Err, gatecrasher? Nooo! Crazy Vincent in his costume! (Yes, he's gay)

More gays, more fun!

New hires getting ready for their Glee-inspired numbers.
Too bad I don't have pictures of those.

Wearing the winning hats!

Part III: ACE takes over Centerstage!

When: December 9, 2010
Where: Centerstage (obviously)

Now this has got to be my favorite of the bunch! In a sentence, it was clearly a night of friends having fun. :)))

My unfinished mask. I barely had 15 minutes to make it!

And our Senior Director managed to produce something like this. Competitive!

Our emcees for the night, Maelyn and Rye!

Girls (yes, girls) having fun!

Wifey and I

Oh man, I still can't believe we lost in this game!
Tirahan ng baso, natalo kami?? Siyeett!

Sana lagi na lang naka-Zorro mask si Ev. hihihi

Partners! Batman and Robin FTW!

Ate Crisee won the (in)famous PINAKACHAKANG MASK award!

Batch 2010's masks looked very well-made! Bravo!

ACE cluster FTW!!!

Christmas parties are 100 times more fun when you celebrate with the best people. I know I did! Happy holidays, you guys!

Epitome of Happiness

2010-12-20T18:36:00.000-08:00

Philosophy wasn’t my A subject in College. Although I found it interestingly mind-boggling, I was usually distracted in class what with all the ‘major subject worries’. I usually had to multi-task in lectures, juggling pretending to be listening to my Prof and reading law provisions on the side. Despite all distractions, I have one prized Philosophy lecture I will forever remember.

My professor was babbling away, throwing Nietzsche here and Nietzsche there. Here we go again, I thought. But then she dropped this question that caught all of my busy-with-law brain cells: If you were given the chance to live all over again after you die, like a second-life on earth, but then everything will be the same. Start to end. Highs and lows. Same experiences, same decisions- all of it. Would you take it?

In my mind, I answered hell no. Like, what’s the point? If everything will be the same, why go through all of it for the second time? Then my professor explained the reason behind the question and the implication of our answers, which, up until this very day serves as my instant reality check/ wake-up call.

My professor said, if you are truly living your life to the fullest, like what most goddamn Hallmark cards tell you, you would have said yes, over and over, to a life of eternal recurrence because you’ve seized every moment of every waking day of your entire life and the only way to live a worthy life is to repeat it. See the point?

I have been, in more instances than I can count, troubled by that lecture. I felt like I’m always missing out on something. I get troubled with upcoming regrets thinking I may not be able to give justice to this life. So when an officemate wrote this for me, her words definitely touched my heart:

Hey Teammate! Nakanino na nga ba ang bola? Hehe. It’s amazing how I can talk to you about anything, be it as shallow as some cute top I saw or as insightful as the TV series we enjoy watching. And every time I talk to you, it’s never with reservations. IMO, you are the epitome of happiness in our cluster. You remind me of this First Communion song entitled This Little Light of Mine. Pero instead of protecting/keeping your conscience clean, I hope that you stay happy or be happier despite the unpleasantness of everything else around us. Safeguard your happiness, Teammate. It’s a rarity.

So whenever dark clouds reign over my days, I replay these carefully chosen words written especially for me. I shut the voice inside my head screaming I haven’t done enough. Saying I don’t know how she perceives me as someone that happy would be a lie. I worry about not being able to do everything, yes. But about being happy enough? No, I never worry about that. I feel it and I embrace all of it.

Maybe I’m made up of sugar and spice and everything in this world that is nice, or maybe I’ve read too much Paulo Coelho and Nicholas Sparks too early I failed to absorb the fact that fiction is what they write. Maybe I am just a forever silver-lining girl, the most loyal believer of optimism, but I don’t fake any of it. I am happy because I got so many reasons to be and those outweigh the reasons not to be. They’re always there, of course. But I would rather swim my way atop all the negativity and guard my happiness with all of me. Because, really, nobody got it right when they answered doctor, or nurse or teacher or president when they were asked what they wanted to be. Happy, that’s it. That’s all we ever want to be.

On the First Day of Christmas

2010-12-18T21:40:00.000-08:00

(written on December 1, 2010)

December isn’t exactly a blissful month in the office. December is our send-off to the yearly busiest busy season. While other people start giving away little tokens, we receive an unwritten memo slashing off our usual snooze time into half. As a result, few days before welcoming this period, hormones go crazy, tolerance level crash and the ranting just goes on forever. As if our system is releasing all our bitchy vibes before we get too busy to even bitch out about anything.

So come the first December morning, I was conditioning my tired brain that this it was just like any other day. Forget deadlines, forget follow-ups, just live one workday at a time. But when I finally left the bed, a certain feeling came surging in. It finally felt like a Christmas morning.

The same day I decided to skip my usual mini-stop coffee break and head to Starbucks to spoil myself a little, instead. Later in the afternoon, I didn’t reach the bank in time to deposit. I missed the closing hour for about 3 minutes. In place of throwing a fit, I took it as a sign to loosen up on being thrifty and spend my entire bonus on holiday presents. Besides, that’s the only way of splurging I wouldn’t feel a dab of guilt about. And to put the cherry on top, I finally decided on the perfect gift to give the boyfriend for Christmas.

Oh, ‘tis definitely the season to be jolly. Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la.

The Faces of (In)Justice

2010-12-14T16:21:00.000-08:00

When I found out Hubert Webb got acquitted, I went home from work earlier than usual to catch the primetime news. I wanted to see it; videos, reports, everything. Real-time news and reactions I read in Twitter all day weren’t enough. It was like someone dear to me died and I had to see that person lying lifeless in a coffin before I let everything sink in.

I was in elementary when our history teacher required us to watch the court give its verdict to Hubert Webb and the others. I remember the defense requesting for the full court decision to be read, resulting to an entire day of recollection. A lot of details stick with me: 19 stab wounds to a 7-year old kid, 6 men raping a young lady and 12 stab wounds to kill their mother, as if what they did to her children weren’t enough to take her life. That was my first real eye-opener to the dark and dangerous version of this world. After that, curiosity caught up with me and I decided to watch the movie version one time it was shown in cable TV. That kept me up at night far longer than any horror movie ever did.

It was inhumane, brutal, gross and I still feel sick in the stomach whenever I watch documentaries on Vizconde massacre throughout the years. Knowing high-profile criminals, one being a son of a Senator nonetheless, were put behind bars for the rest of their lives to pay for the heinous crime they committed got that little spark of confidence I have in our justice system alive. And now, I don’t really know.

I am not saying with authority and full certainty that those acquitted were guilty. Although, I cannot comprehend how a Senator was not able to pull resources and prove the innocence of his son when we are all aware of the ugly truth that, in this country, the rich and the powerful can spin anything their way. On the other side of the coin, if those guys are truly innocent, what incompetent lower court justices, NBI agents (who are lawyers, themselves) and policemen we do have. Plus, I don’t think we have the level of technology to obtain evidences to prove a man’s guilt beyond reasonable doubt. It will forever be someone’s word against someone else’s with some lightweight evidence on the side. Anyone who watches CSI, NCIS, Criminal Minds, etc., would agree on that.

I once sincerely believed that my path was towards that profession, taking up law and becoming a criminal lawyer. I wasn’t interested in corporate law as much as I was passionate about representing and defending in a criminal case. But today, I feel disgusted towards every single criminal lawyer in this country. It is being unfair, I know. But I think we all deserve a day for that. There were three women killed some 19 years ago, the head of their family left grieving for his loss. He earned the justice he long fought for, or, it seems now, he was merely swayed in believing so, until a former Senator requested a DNA testing of the specimen that is now nowhere to be found. Now, our country rests in a thin line between an inconsolable victim and innocent men jailed for years. Whichever side we take, we point our fingers to the same hopeless justice system that doesn’t know that first thing about justice.

My prayers are with the victims- whoever they rightfully are in this story.

Because Christmas is a series of parties...

2010-12-13T16:02:00.000-08:00

Trademark Bratz pose

Fierce mask!

Lalalaloves...

Giving you a glipmse of how crazy/happy the past week had been. Christmas parties are a favorite. Blow-by-blow detailes to follow. :))

One of the Boys

2010-11-20T04:17:00.000-08:00

I play basketball. I love sweating like a pig. I make high scores in Time Zone. And I don’t know how to use make-up. Definitely one of the boys, right?

But in spite all of the obvious reasons why people dub me as “One of the Boys”, this is the prima facie evidence that I definitely am:

The gang sans Keng (who took the pic)

I have been friends since forever with these people. AR, Rain, Neil, Pau and I go a long, long way back (i.e. Pre-school). The group definitely grew in number throughout the years. Despite that, no other girl ever really got to be a part of this barkada. We talked about it over the recent dinner sesh. We looked back at classmates, common friends, ex-girl friends, thinking about who could have had the biggest chance of fitting in. Conclusion? Not one girl. Or, according to Pau, unless magladlad si AR! Haha! I don’t think any girl would freely subject herself to hours of green jokes, double meaning statements and, well, can’t really mention it here. So, yes, I would have to agree with Pau. Unless magladlad si AR, we are the only two girls who can tolerate these boys being, err, boys!

Garahe Moments (Ar's house)

Admittedly, I have a lot to make up to these guys. I’ve been too distant and almost always absent throughout College. Tight schedule, midterm exams, thesis, name it, I had all the reasons. But I don’t think there could be a single valid reason not to make time for friends. Despite all of it, the past year, we reunited as if High School happened yesterday. We laughed until we couldn’t breathe anymore, we delivered inside jokes impeccably and we spill everything with full disclosure. We still have tampuhans, though. Like, I had to constantly bug AR, even to the point of hugging him, and order and pay for Lechon Kawali just for him to talk to me again after being absent in the last get- together! We’ll never outgrow our child-like ways, I suppose. And that’s a good thing.

Look who paid a short visit! Baby Xander. :)))

Like I said, we had more or less friends at one point or another. Some stay for good, some moved on and never looked back. But these people, these are my surefire support system through whatever. This is our version of a non-judging breakfast club. One spills his darkest secret and nobody laughs at him. Instead, we laugh WITH him. Besides, I’m talking about a bunch of young adults who happened to be mostly guys. We skip the “pity party”. We don’t cry and wipe each other’s messed up mascara. We get- together. We talk over pizza, beer, iced tea and chips. We talk about everything. Only, no crying. We’re boys, you see. And tough boys don’t cry. (CHAR!)

Girlfriends

2010-11-19T19:58:00.000-08:00

The idea of having ‘girlfriends’ is relatively new to me. Majority of my closest friends are guys, which is why I am usually dubbed as one of the boys. But that is another story for another blogpost. For this one, I will write about 3 of the most amazing girls I’m blessed to be friends with and how they made me feel beyond special on my birthday.

Despite our busy lives, we stretched our tight schedule, by stretching I meant escape from the boss and pray to God we still have jobs the next day, just to fit in a quiet (figuratively) dinner and do some overdue catching up. It was a little bit more special than usual, since it was my post-birthday celebration.

Mingming and I

Kat and Margot

In the middle of dinner, a waiter showed up with this gigantic cake and colorful lighted candles, all geared up to sing the birthday song with the rest of the crew. My face froze in a terrified expression. I did assume it was for me and I was horrified! That would have been the most embarrassing experience EVER. Good thing, my girls knew me well enough not to do something like that. It turned out to be for some other customer. Instead, I received a pop-up balloon (the shake- then- pop with all the confetti thing that I definitely loved!) and a cute, yummy, coffee/chocolate cake from Starbucks. Plus, the adorable bedroom slippers and framed pictures that say so much about us. Purrrfect!

A virtual greeting from my girls and their gift! Awwww.

That dinner felt comfortable, relaxed, unforced. There was even a moment I totally lost track of what we were chuckling about, gawked at the scene in front of me, and thought, I’m with the girls who I’ll run to during mommy troubles or for secret recipes or in times I would want to kill my husband. Surely, there is a long way ahead from here to that. But if we managed to keep in touch despite the busiest busy season, squeezing a dinner or some coffee time in between our separate lives would be effortless.

Magic Girls :)

That night was my birthday dinner. In years, it could be a bridal shower or another graduation, then a wedding, a baptism, and so on. Celebrations may change, orders may be shuffled but we will definitely, definitely be constant in all of each other’s highs and lows, offering nothing less than a hundred percent support, with a pocketful of flawless assassination tricks in case the lows are brought about by some bitch trying to ruin one of our marriages. *wink*

This is so US. Taken two years ago.

Cellulite or no cellulite, muffin tops or tummy tucks, wrinkles or face lifts, we will stick with each other until we grow old and menopausal. Besides, that’s what girlfriends are for.

Death by Caffeine

2010-11-11T19:47:00.000-08:00

I don’t know how to make coffee. Insert ‘a cup of’ in between the last two words.

The first time I tried, I put as much coffee powder as you would if you were making Ovaltine. As you predicted, it tasted, not just too bitter, but bad. Like, really bad it tasted as something you shouldn’t be tasting, at all. So, needless to say, my first attempt in feeling all domesticated, making a cup of coffee on my own, was also the last. But that was definitely not the end of my affair with coffee. Thank God for Starbucks and 3-in-1 instant sachets.

Like any other addiction, mine was fueled by stress and the psychological factor of believing it actually helps me. From being a necessity, coffee in the morning turned into a habit, then a ritual, then I slowly drifted to the point of no return.

My coffee habit was born out of the inevitable challenge of staying awake for 18 hours, day by day, just to earn a CPA license. Every single review day, caffeine touches my taste buds even before I’m awake enough to hit the shower. I stare at my room’s white walls, trying to take mental notes of the books and reviewers I should bring for the day. Which, I should have probably done after my coffee, since I ended up always missing something.

CPA board exam and 2 years later, I still have coffee every morning- less the valid excuse of trying to stay awake so I could study. Officemates remind me it’s not good for my health. I know that. But these days, it is a choice between insanity and high sugar levels. I’d rather be on a constant sugar high.

This sounds like a line from an ad but coffee makes a good morning. Remind me to sue Nescafe if that ever appears on your TV screens (I kid.). At least, it makes a good starter. Those few minutes I allow myself to stare out the office window, smell the aroma of cheap instant coffee, while I sip in between positive morning thoughts popping in my brain, those are sacred. It’s like a ritual. Take that away and I’m likely to throw a fit by noon. So call me an addict whatever. Just give me my coffee. Or else.

Twenty-two

2010-11-08T04:34:00.000-08:00

Writing a birthday entry was never a tradition. I had always been overwhelmed with celebratory mood that I never found time to sit with my thoughts and write them down. Usually, I send them up in a prayer: offer thanks and humbly ask for the same guidance for the following year. Today, I suppose, is a start of a new habit.

As I write this, I am aware that I would have to look back and reminisce in order to have a clear re-counting of the past 365 days. In my first attempt in doing so, I was flooded with new faces, new experiences and new places that are now up here, deposited in my iron-induced memory. These, I knew, are the reasons why the idea of growing up (or growing old, where do we draw the line here?) doesn’t really frighten me. I feel jittery, of course. But not terrified, and definitely not frustrated. I actually feel steady.

The previous year I grew past the girl who is overlooking the cliff, full of hopes, overwhelmed by life’s endless possibilities. I remained hopeful, of course. But my feet were no longer glued to a single post. The past year I started doing everything I said I would the moment I passed the board exams. I freed myself from life’s waiting room; I stopped the usual planning and counting perhaps. I said I planned enough. I was done laying out numerous options for the future. As a matter of fact, I made a couple of essential decisions I was putting off for the longest time. I made choices, closed a few doors and went on living.

In a sentence, my 22nd year was about doing, about celebrating life.

Last year I traveled more than in all the other years combined. I went to different places, with different company. I worked doubly hard in between those delightful journeys. But handling bigger responsibilities are part of learning and growing up, right? I also learned about balance and practiced maintaining it. Work had been its usual demanding self but that made me appreciate weekends so much. Now I look forward to family days because of, well, the family part, and not just because it’s an escape from school. Another valuable lesson is detaching money from words such as allowance and parents and free. I can’t call myself financially independent, yet. Financially mature, I guess, is a more-fitting term.

Re-reading the above paragraphs (in an attempt to find a suitable way to close this), I realized why I felt a sudden urge to write a birthday entry and not just, perhaps, a birthday wishlist, which is a sure way to get what I secretly wish for (boyfriend spoiler alert!). I realized, before, it was effortless to assess whether I gave justice to the past year. There were countless of obvious measures like being in the dean’s list, being able to graduate, passing the board exams, etc. This year was different. No more score boards, no more warning signs, no more evidences, aside from the peacefulness contained in one’s heart. Looking back, going through the memories I made in my head like flashing pictures, I am certain I had a well- spent year. In fact, with all honesty, if I will continue to be as optimistic, as balanced, as eager about life as I had been, I’ll be living without regrets. At least, without the kind that can destroy me.

All in all, I can reminisce with a wide smile across my face. My dear friend hit the bull’s eye when she said, I am blessed as blessed can be. I can’t even begin to say enough thank yous to so many people for that.

But to these 4, who I have to thank the most...

The fam bam!

With my Dad, Mom and boyfriend!
We're a tight knit family and him being in our "family only" dinner speaks a lot about how much my parents trust him.

....simply for allowing me to be my disorganized, passionate, emotional, “matampuhin” and difficult self, and still loving every inch of me (although it took my brother some time to do the “loving” part. Kidding.). I am who I am and where I am because these people love me. And because I love them back.

Happy birthday to me. *pat on the back*

I like that it looks double date-ish. haha!
The picture's blurry, I know. But, like what we learned in law, substance over form. :)

PLUS, my dad is making a face! Winner!

P.S.
I did receive what I secretly wish for even without a wishlist. That guy in white, with the irresistible grin, knows me well.

Have a Little Faith Round 2

2010-10-31T20:31:00.000-07:00

It’s the 2^nd day of the long weekend. As much as I wanted to leave the house, wander off a familiar coffee shop and read a book, the insane freeway traffic kept me locked up. But I was itching to do some reading and I have a pretty good material in line. So when the day’s buzz was over, I took my book light, grabbed my instant iced coffee and sat in a corner. I turned to page one.

I read “Have a Little Faith” by Mitch Albom a little over a year ago. Admittedly, I fast-read through it and never really bothered profoundly digesting the message. The book was released while I was reviewing for my board exam. Distraction was the last thing I needed. But knowing myself, resisting would just trap me even more.

So I borrowed a copy, fast-read the words and vowed to read the book again.

After passing the boards, I landed on a pretty demanding job. Every free time I had got occupied by newly- published best sellers. I almost forgot, not about the book, but about the promise of re-reading it. Until this night. Or, technically, since it’s almost dawn already, last night.

From page one fast forward to the very last, I was stirred up, awaken, inspired and moved to tears by the rediscovered words of this masterpiece. I haven’t come across a book that literally had me sobbing towards the end in a long while. There were many which moved, troubled and pulled me through an all-nighter, but Mitch Albom’s recollection tugged at my emotions really hard. I initially planned to give a clear review of this book. But my lack of writing skills and poor thought organization would undoubtedly produce a messed up one, so I rather resort to sharing a few of my marked paragraphs:

“My friend, if we tend to the things that are important in life, if we are right with those we love and behave in line with our faith, our lives will not be cursed with the aching throb of unfulfilled business. Our words will be sincere, our embraces will be tight. We will never wallow in the agony of ‘I could have, I should have.’ We can all sleep in a storm.

“And when it’s time, our goodbyes will be complete.”

THAT kind of love- the kind you realize you already have by the life you’ve created together- that’s the kind that lasts.
“I think people expect too much from marriage today. They expect perfection. Every moment should be bliss. That’s TV or movies. But that is not the human experience. Like Sarah says, thirty good minutes here, forty good minutes there, it adds up to something beautiful. The trick is when things aren’t so great, you don’t junk the whole thing.”
Happiness in a tablet… But pills are not going to change the fundamental problem in the construction. Wanting what you can’t have. Looking for self-worth in the mirror. Layering work on top of work and still wondering why you weren’t satisfied- before working some more.
I know what I believed in. it’s in my soul. But I constantly tell our people: you should be convinced of the authenticity of what you have, but you must also be humble enough to say that we don’t know everything. And since we don’t know everything, we must accept that another person may believe something else.
But it’s not me against the other guy. It’s God measuring you against you.

I had a hard time picking those six from the many highlighted parts in my copy, but I don’t want to spoil every delightful discovery in case you find time to read this book. Personally, I didn’t think there was anything original when it comes down to the lessons imparted by the author. But that exactly what made it special.

This book reminded me of the simplest lessons I learned early on in life- from parents, grandparents, teachers, even from the comic-like Bible for Kid’s edition I used to have- on faith, love and kindness. But those lessons were in the form of plain, almost-mantra like phrases we tend to outgrow over the years. This book re-introduced those familiar messages through intricate words, realistic situations and relatable characters that you would be reminded of and transported back to the very root of all the values instilled upon you, with greater conviction and firmer faith.

Reading Mitch Albom’s Have a Little Faith has been, without a dab of doubt, worthy of my time, twice over.

A Lifetime Present

2010-10-27T17:38:00.001-07:00

Dad recently gifted me with a Fully booked discount card. He knew I was trying to accumulate P15,000 worth of purchases just to get one. So, he went for the other, much easier option. He paid P700 for it. Initially, we thought the card is valid for only 2 years. To our surprise, it is valid for a lifetime. Like, a LIFETIME! God knows how much money I’ll end up saving because of it. I’m the happiest daddy’s little girlie.

Via Google Images

My dad has always been the spoiler when it comes to books. I have stacks and stacks of unread books at home just because he let me grab whatever I want in a bookstore. When I was younger, I had book phases. There was the “Im so curious about Atlantis” phase, the “I want to talk to angels” phase (I never finished any of those books), the “Chicken soup for blah and blah phase”, etc. But the phase that started it all was Kristy and her great idea. Yes, the Baby-sitters club.

The memory of my first ever book purchase is still very vivid to me. My dad and I were in National Bookstore. I was 8 or 9 at that time. He took a thick architecture magazine from the stand and handed me comics. I just stared at it. My dad noticed I wasn’t interested, so instead he brought me to the teens section. I get to bring home whatever I pick, he said.

When we left the bookstore, I was clinging to my very first Baby Sitters book. It was No. 4: Mary Anne saves the day. 3 days after, my dad asked why I was no longer reading it. I told him I finished it already. He asked me to tell him the story, so I did. My dad said I read pretty fast for my age. I thought that was something special; I thought I was the only kid who can do that. The next day, I asked my dad for another trip to the mall, picked my 2nd Baby-sitters club book and practiced whatever special skill I thought I had.

Three years and 78 Baby Sitters books later, I knew I have this perpetual love for written words and unscathed book spines.

Fast forward to today, I owe my dad whatever satisfaction, freedom even, I get from reading books. He was the first person who encouraged me to read and supported all my book acquisitions. He would never let some unnecessary purchase pass, regardless of the amount. But when it comes to books, he always gives the green light.

So now I have this little plastic to further my book shopping addiction, care of the guy who started this brilliant addiction in the first place. He surely knows how to spoil me, while staying true to his message of encouraging me to be financially independent. I just hope his next surprise will be a pair of those invisible book shelves I saw the other day. Although I know the hard part will be convincing him to drill holes in our walls, he can’t possibly say no to my sad puppy eyes and pretty pleases. Besides, book shelves are for books, right? So he is compelled, by the undeniable affiliation, to say yes. *wink*

Falling in love at a Coffee Shop

2010-10-23T23:16:00.000-07:00

I think that possibly
Maybe I'm falling for you

Yes, there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you

No one understands me quite like you do
Through all of the shadowy corners of me

We have a thing for coffee shops. It didn’t take us until we were young adults, wanting some quiet place away from pesky teeners to discover the sanctuary that is Starbucks. In College, where the only most probable free time we had was early morning, we would meet at Coffee.com in Traders Hotel’s lobby. They served bad, overly-priced coffee. But we didn’t mind. They were open 24 hours a day and we meet at 5:30am. Even Starbucks near DLSU is closed at that time, so we had no other options.

From the only available meeting place to our most favorite escape, we surely have fallen in love with the peacefulness and warmth of a coffee shop.

I just like the feel of this (digitally) antiquated picture.

We will grow old and weak someday, not being able to enjoy discovering new shops together. But before that time comes, we would have gotten all over the world in search for the best coffee place and bring whatever made it the best right into the comforts of our own home.

Or maybe we'll make a business out of it and create some other couples' favorite place.

I never knew just what it was about the old coffee shop i love so much
All of the while I never knew
All of the while, it was YOUI

Money Matters

2010-10-15T03:06:00.000-07:00

When I was a little girl, I have this pink and stout piggy bank. It has a rubber covering a small hole at the bottom. I wasn’t allowed to remove it until a few weeks before Christmas. It was tradition. My brother and I would open our piggy banks at the same time, count the change we’ve been saving all year and figure out what we want to buy with it. Whatever we wish for, we were lame wishers as kids wanting the cheapest toys, we received on Christmas Eve. It took me until I was 10 to realize that my parents bought it for us because they deposited whatever I saved for the year, including birthday and Christmas monetary gifts and the P1,000 for every subject I got 90+ fund, into a bank account under my name- with an ITF clause, of course.

My parents’ efforts of being such great examples in living a frugal life definitely rubbed on me. In highschool, I never, like NEVER, asked for money to spend on movies and weekend mall trips. I save from my allowance and was contented with whatever I had. My mom initiated the shopping for clothes, shoes, etc. When it came to books, though, I get to buy whatever, whenever.

My parents have always been thrifty and at the same time very reasonable. Yes, they make us earn the things that we want, leaving us waiting for graduations, birthdays, Christmases just for another piece of unnecessary gadget. But when it comes to the things we need, my parents generously hand us the best of everything.

Now that I’m earning my own money, I live with the words my dad told me on a car ride to a job interview with the firm where I am currently employed. I can’t recall the exact words, but this is what I remember him saying:

“When you start earning money, keep in mind that the equation should always be Income-Savings= Expenses. Never mix them up. It’s not about the amount, it’s about the discipline. You save up, not just for the far-off future or the rainy days. You save up for opportunities, for experiences, for investments that will give you more fulfillment than fancy things. Splurge once in a while but remember that youth is not a license to blow up resources. Strike a balance. There’s always a balance.”

I’ve been working for a year and three months. I was able to save a substantial portion of my salary. My 13th month pay went to buying Christmas gifts, my 14th month pay I spent in Hongkong. Today I received my Discretionary bonus and all of it will end up in my bank account. I shop, I travel, I eat at fancy restaurants. At the same time, I save for the future, I save for experiences and I even got myself a Life Insurance (my future kids are damn lucky).

Dad is right. There is always a balance.

A Smile in my Liver

2010-10-11T19:55:00.000-07:00

More than a year in a firm that makes me work not only until late at night but until the morning after, I feel jaded. I can torture myself by focusing on that or I can look at things from a different angle. Which is, since weekdays are usually exhausting, I learned to value my free time; I try, with all the multi-tasking/planning skills I got, to maintain balance in my life. Last Saturday was a perfect example.

Family

Despite the previous night’s office overtime, I made it a point to wake up pretty early to join the rest of the fam for breakfast. It was already sort of tradition: the 4 of us having breakfast together on weekends. We catch-up, we rant, we discuss plans. Usually, though, nobody gets to finish talking about anything since another member will eventually butt in upon remembering something. Yes, we’re all chatty and thank God we’re only four in the family. Any addition would result to an eternity of chaos.

That morning, breakfast took almost 2 hours with us leaving the table still undecided where to have a “family lunch” next weekend. We forgot to finish the conversation on. I should probably bring it up during dinner tonight.

Myself

It’s a ritual- I find solitude in the company of a book and Green Tea Frappe. I spend hours and hours just going through the pages. By hours and hours I meant 6 hours straight. Alone. In a corner of a coffee shop. That is happiness for me; my own way of stepping on the brakes to do something because I like it, not because I should.

I haven’t spent this much time to read in one sitting for so long. Starbucks Taft used to be my reading place, but then it turned into my study cave when I was preparing for the board exams. I never had the chance to convert it back. Last Saturday, I think I found the perfect replacement. Starbucks in Greenbelt had the same mix of cozy and semi-quiet thing going on. At least, in the morning until early afternoon. Plus, their couches were perfect. I found my new reading place and enjoyed a dose of Young Adult literature (because I wanted something entertaining and not serious) in one day. I’m a happy girl.

Love & Relationship

After my much needed alone time, boyfriend came for my much, much, much needed quality time with him. I can go on and on with the details- the movie, shopping, dinner, etc. But when I got home, I just had one thought in mind: I missed being with him and running out of things to do just because we had so much time in our hands. I missed that.

It was a perfect day. And it was very fitting that we watched Eat, Pray, Love because I was reminded of how significant it is to maintain balance in my life.

I know it’s not the slightest close to the boldness of actually buying three tickets to the rest of the world, leaving everything behind for a year and plunging into all things unknown and unfamiliar, but that day was my small way of not letting myself be detached and get broken to the extent of having to do all of those to fix myself. I never want to lose my appetite for life, for risks, for discovery and re-discovery, and at the same time, be able to hold on to something that challenges me, humbles me, something that pushes me to the point of almost giving up, but always, always just until ALMOST.

Balance doesn’t mean easy. Balance doesn’t mean quiet. Balance requires effort and passion. If I will just focus on one thing, on one goal, on a fist love, what will I be left with to balance it against? Nothing. And having nothing to juggle with my hands is not the state of being balanced. It’s a state of playing safe.

Worst Day

2010-10-05T20:19:00.000-07:00

There is a Sarah Geronimo poster plastered in my office window. Some days I can take having it within my peripheral vision. Some days it doesn’t distract me. Some days I don’t get this weird feeling of wanting to rip it off and throw it away without a trace of guilt for the officemate who owns it. But today is not one of those. Today I just want to grab Sarah Geronimo by her perfect hair and put her to the trash where she belongs. The picture, I mean.

Across my laptop I can see a post-it with the words “You must have long term goals to keep you from being frustrated by short term failures” written on it. I remember carefully picking blue for the color of the post-it and using a green-inked pen . I remember being optimistic and hopeful while writing those words and I remember having the same feeling of overflowing possibility everytime I glance upon it. But not today. Right now, I just want to move my laptop and completely block it from my view, that stupid little thing.

On top of my cluttered desk is a rose drawing by my boyfriend. I don't have plans of ripping it and throwing it away but I can't help but cringe as I look at it. And I'm pretty sure that's not how my boyfriend wanted me to feel when he made it.

Today is not my best day. Today feels a lot like showing up at work without knowing my evil brother shaved my eyebrows in my sleep. Although, I can't say I’m not myself becaue I am irresponsible, unfocused and useless today and I’m not completely sure if I’m not any of those in any given better day.

Please make this day go by faster.

The Collective: A Place for the Anti- Mall Crowd

2010-09-27T00:54:00.000-07:00

The original plan was to visit a Flea Market in Guijo St. that Friday night. Flea Market turned out to be a disaster. But there was no way our night will end like that. Fortunately, a few blocks away was The Collective, and it changed our night’s story.

The Collective was a formerly abandoned warehouse re-built by young entrepreneurs to cater to the, well, anti-mall crowd. They opened various restaurants, boutiques, even a bike shop. Close to what you see in malls. Although, the big differences I guess, are the ambiance, the feel of the place and the kind of people who visit it.

Initially, I intended to post as many pictures to give a clearer image of the place. But since the boyfriend and I are determined to re-visit over and over and try every restaurant (yes, we fell in love with it), I'd rather make this entry only about our first one.

The Pasta Box

Deliciously Crunccchhyyy AdoboFlakes Sandwhich with Kesong Puti

A healthy serving of Tuna Alfredo Pasta

Holy Chicken Pasta, which was Holy Yummmy!

Pasta Box is all about giving the customers freedom of choice; choose your own pasta and choose your own sauce. They have a wide variety of pasta: Farfalle, Spaghetti, Penne Rigate, Fussili, Conchiglioni and Linguini. Fun starts as early as trying to pronounce those tricky words properly.

We were very satisfied with all our orders, add to that the fact that we only paid less than P400 for everything (we also ordered iced tea). The highlight was the Holy Chicken Pasta. It tasted like CPK's Kung Pao Spaghetti, only better, because they use cashew nuts instead of ordinary peanuts. Plus, it costs A LOT cheaper in Pasta Box.

Happy Couple with our happy tummies :)))

The boyfriend and I definitely fell in love with The Collective that we are visiting, again, this Saturday. We're still choosing between Wasabisabi and Wingman, though. Or maybe we'll just try both. Ah, food trip! :)

Braving a New World

2010-09-24T00:54:00.000-07:00

Off. I’ve been off for a time now. I’ve been off from the time I received the news of an officemate leaving. Putting things off isn’t really my style. I used to voluntarily stay late in the office just to finish tasks and have a clean slate the next day. I like it that way. I don’t want work piling up; I don’t want missing deadlines. But ever since I found out that my very first mentor in my biggest engagement already tendered her resignation, I’ve been sweeping every task under the rug, praying they will magically disappear and never haunt me. In denial, yes, they call it that.

She is the 4th clustermate to leave this year. Leaving is normal in this firm, since this is just considered as a sacred training ground. The norm is to move on after a year or two. But her leaving hits me more than just a normal resignation. She is my mentor; she was my mentor. I owe her most of what I know today. She was my senior in my biggest engagement. I worked with her more than I worked with anyone else. Her leaving means losing my protective line, my security blanket. Her leaving means I would have to take the bullet, myself, from now on.

I know I should be jumping up and down at this moment. For sure, I would have to step up and try my very best to fill her void in the team, which would mean more responsibilities. Not everyone is given the opportunity to handle bigger accountabilities at work this early. Especially in my kind of job where we deal with legal matters and deadlines bundled with a 25% penalty. But the thought of being completely on my own, reviewing others’ outputs then being liable for them as if they were my own, those are sending nervous cells down my spine.

Come November, it will be hiring season again. We’ll definitely employ an additional team member- our new baby. He/she will be like the ME a year ago- eager, idealistic, full of energy, and at the same time, clueless and nervy. It will be my duty to do the very best to take cluelessness and nervousness out of the picture. It will be my duty to arm her with whatever knowledge I have received the past year. More like shifting places from being mentored to the one mentoring. The responsibility of raising the baby will be placed at the palm of my shaky hands. Poor little thing.

So for today, I will allow myself to savour my last hours of being at the bottom of the pyramid. I will slack off and access unauthorized websites and ignore the urgent mails. Over the weekend, I would have to brace myself and saturate every lazy cell in my body. Next week, I will be braving a brand new world where I would have to step up, not only when my seniors are having a bad day, not only when my manager’s hands are full, but for every waking day.

It’s scary. But it’s the good kind of scary.

How can I forget?

2010-09-20T22:22:00.000-07:00

I have been smiling a lot lately- the out of the blue sort that makes you look stupid to people who witness it. Not that I’m on the verge of losing sanity. There’s just this little reminder tied on my finger that effortlessly brings about doses of good vibes.

The Don't Forget ring c/o google images

The boyfriend gifted me with the Don’t Forget ring. It is a sweet little ring tied like a bow, in a cute box with reminders to smile, to make a difference, to dream big, and most of all, that you are loved. He knew I’ve been stressing about getting too sickly and missing out on a lot of work lately, so it was his way of cheering me up, as if all of his other ways of making me feel loved weren’t enough.

It's the cutest thing, isn't it?

Now I have something to perk me up when hugs and kisses and holding hands aren’t available. My happy batteries will always be charged. Thanks to the boyfriend, who’s been the sweetest ever since.