Self Check: Five Months After

I don't really have much to say or compare to when it comes to break-ups. The first time was when an ex boyfriend sent me a message via Friendster that goes "it's not about you, it's me".

A  relationship that went for seven years that has gone wrong is more than heart breaking to me. It wasn't all about me and the guy anymore, but the relationship has extended to family, friends and even finances. Freaking Fs.

February. What was supposedly a mutual decision turned upside down when I knew about things he kept from me. We talked and decided that since things don't go well between us anymore, we deemed it best to live our lives on our own. However, days, weeks and months passed, and I learned about everything he had done despite the chance I once gave him. So I just leave it to that.

The Survival. I went through the usual ugly-cry-at-night and self-pity. I couldn't avoid crying at any time of the day. To say the truth, I was very remorseful of the relationship than that of the love. Perhaps it was just about time.

I have very few friends - seriously just a handful. I don't have my family with me and talking with me always make me break down in tears. Mostly I only have Yoda, and he's enough for me to bare all the hurt, betrayal and pain. 

Yoda. Arriving home to a happy dog is such a relief. We never miss to cuddle and play before sleeping and upon waking up. My social network is a witness to how much Yoda means to me, his human.

Reinvention. I had my hair cut, permed and more in just a few months. I lost weight and changed my wardrobe. I became a different person than I was a year ago. I took more selfies and compared them to previous years' photos me. I am different. I was different.

I am not sure how and where the effect of a break-up will take me, but it took me to where I was not supposed to be.

Encrypted Messages

Nails scrape through the letters

You and I get the shivers

Deeply, I breathe in and tap Send

Waiting for you to Enter, come and bend.

Fingertips glide around the keys

I wait for your reply, please.

These sweet and comic exchanges

We can laugh for ages.

My stomach swirls

My heart is in a whirl.

Wish we can go on like this

Forever, a big word I’d miss.

Happy, another impossibility

Because this is not reality.

I don’t want to say goodbye

This won’t just pass by.

I don’t want to

But it has to.

Dear Friend

Dear Friend,

Just like Charlie in Perks of Being a Wallflower, I am starting to write to you. Hoping that you're just like the one he's writing too and him as well. Like a wallflower, that observes, tries to participate in the things around him but doesn't get involved. Quiet but existing.

Let me begin this by introducing a little of me. I've been a corporate slave for five years already, in the sixth year with my boyfriend and 25 years alive. I live alone with my dog, who's the most constant in my life right now.

I am nothing like Charlie. I am an extrovert in many ways. I like to participate in all things. I like to talk, laugh and enjoy anything. 

I am in love. I love my boyfriend more than anyone in the world, except my dog. He is the tree that I hold on to and take shelter during thunderstorms. He's far away but we've always been sure of the two of us together forever.

I think that, most of the time, we want things that we can't really have. The more we know that we're not supposed to have or do it, the more we get challenged and cling on to it instead. Maybe that's how I am. I think that's how I am. Though I'm trying to live with it. I'm trying to be contented and not ask for the impossible. I try to work on the things that can be done instead.

For now, I'll just leave it to you this way. A little bit of me.

Love always,
A friend

Untitled

Little drops of rain trickled down the window.

The metro almost drowned in traffic and rainwater.

We stared at each other, with eyes promising a glorious night

From your eyes, I looked down to your lips,

hungry to touch it with mine

Then you moved closer and I melted

Under the sheets our bodies swayed in rhythm

Like a choreographed dance

And in trance, we bade the night like there's no tomorrow

Like we're the only people alive

The sad truth of the sun coming out, signaled the end of our slumber

I pulled away. Not because I don't want you.

Only because I don't want to be engulfed in a closer space that is "us".

Because there can never be in between a plus.

A dream, in sleep,

But everything was true I just can't keep.

Casually we kissed goodbye.

Unknowing how will the days go by

Will there be more?

What about after four?

When we know that more means drowning in ourselves, in us.

The night it had to end,

I hid myself under the sheets.

Tears poured and a stab that no one can mend

I was happy for you but not for me

For tomorrow I'll see you smile

But I, sorrowful eyes to hide

I know someday I can be free.

A Whole Year of Updates (5/5)

It started last year, almost a year ago. I felt my career was getting stagnant. I sent emails to companies I wished to work for and fortunately received positive responses from a few. In October, I moved to Siemens. Totally different. I easily adapted to the quirkyness and love for pancit of my colleagues.

Siemens had been my home. I drowned myself with work. Before, if I felt going home then I did. But here, I would come in between 7 or 8 in the morning and leave 12 hours after. Less Facebook and Twitter.

February of this year, the boyfriend and I moved to a new apartment with Alex, a friend. Our Saturdays were spent on the rooftop over beer and kwentuhan. On Sundays, we'd go to Binondo to eat at Wai Ying's or drive to Tagaytay for their famous bulalo at the meat market.

To sum, I have a really good job, new house and my tummy is well fed. BUT, I feel empty. I want to be satisfied but I do not know what for. Perhaps pressure is getting on me. Friends are getting married and having babies. Some are enjoying the greener pastures. Some are just a year less from graduating in law school. Thing is I do not want to get married yet, all the more I do not want to carry the bump. My ambition to go to London has been forgotten but my fancy over anything English will never be over.

On Getting Married. I love weddings. I daydream of my own wedding - the beach, chucks, football field for the AVP, 90s OPM, matching tattoos, doing my own make-up, the entourage, name it. I envy a lot of my friends who are getting hitched. They seem so happy, all prepared and excited to finally become one. The boyfriend and I talk about it too. We have the same ideas and of course, excited. BUT, financially we are not yet ready. AND perhaps, emotionally too on my part. I want to achieve A LOT first. I want to go back to school, travel and build my own library. To add, the boyfriend just moved to a new company and is still establishing his own career. I keep on telling him to concentrate on his performance at work and that I will understand if he has less time for me. Both our families are excited for us to start our own family. It's just that marriage has taken a backseat in our minds.

On Building a Career. Working in Siemens is a whole lot of fun. The girls are awesome; I learned to put on make-up and wear colorful skirt in the office. We've travelled out of town twice - Cebu and Bohol, both times were so much fun. The boys are funny and bastos-friendly. Hahahah! I love my boss, how he keeps his cool when the tough gets going. He throws very corny jokes and always gets us motivated - especially through food and movies. We just launched our book club after everyone got hooked on Christian Grey. Lunch and merienda are so funny even if it's just pancit canton on the table. There is nothing I can complain about.

Going Both Crazy and Happy. I have a lot of goals this year: travel around the country each month, get inked, enroll in the Open University, read more books, get engaged, shave my hair, buy an iPhone, drink with random people, party like there's no tomorrow and fall in love all over again. Next definitely to tick is to put on a real tattoo - "Saudade" the longing for something not existing.

Saudade

A Whole Year of Updates (4/5)

By far, this is the part where I'm most excited to talk about (and my friends have been bugging me to tell the whole story).

May-June 2012. The Ilocandia Tour.

I have always wanted to go to Ilocos and experience "the old, the ancient, the history". In some days when I have less to do, I would browse the internet on must-visit places. One day, I felt everything was too much - I needed to get away from work, disconnect myself to social networking, run away from the boyfriend and try to be a different person, I decided to embark to Ilocos in the weekend.

Thursday. The boyfriend and I dined at Hawkers and we talked very casually. Then I told (not asked) him that I wanted to travel to Ilocos on Saturday. He was astonished at how absurd this idea was. He asked if I'm sure. I said yes immediately. I made up my mind and there was nothing he could do about it.

So come Saturday morning, I woke up at around eight o'clock - which is my usual first wake up call on weekends. I looked up the internet for a bus liner which can take me to the North, the schedule, rates and contact number. Turned out I had one freaking hour to prepare because the bus would leave at 9:45. I packed a few clothes, made sure all my essentials are in my backpack and hailed a cab to take me to Partas station in Pasay. I remembered it was raining like hell. But not Mother Nature stopped me. Then I got my ticket, waited with the rest of the passengers and called the boyfriend that I was there waiting already. Friends and my boss texted to remind me to take care of myself. I planned to go back to Manila Sunday night so I could still report to the office on Monday.

But no. The bus ride took away 12 hourssssss of my supposed get-away tour! I dreaded CDO-Davao bus rides and this was tooooo much. I didn't realize until my phone was on critical battery level, when my butt felt sore, my stomach was grumbling (I do not eat when on travel because I easily get sick) and there was nothing else I could do but remain seated. On my window seat, peeping from the curtains, I saw rainy Pampanga, La Union and and Pangasinan pass by. I was supposed to contemplate, meditate, ponder upon everything that's happened (and will happen) in my life but I could not. It was the worst part of the trip.

Saturday 10PM. I arrived in Vigan (but had to keep asking the bus driver and its assistant where we were already). I picked the most friendly looking driver from the line-up of trikes infront of the terminal. I was fortunate that he knew where Grandpa's Inn was and told me that it was nice and affordable. So there I checked in at the old mansion which was refurbished into a lodging house.

Wait, let me tell the story by just posting the photos instead. Then I'll just blog about THE QUARTER LIFE CRISIS.

An old coffee press (I think) at Grandpa's Inn, Heritage, Vigan.

Longganisa was a staple.

More than 10 tigers at Baluarte, Vigan.

Random bus rides. Didn't know where to go.

Vigan Empanada doesn't have added coloring.

Kesong puti cheesecake and black coffee for that rainy afternoon.

Spicy longganisa pizza at Herencia.

Laoag empanada from Johnny Moon (Juan Luna hailed from the North)

Bangui windmills going to Pagudpud.

One of the highlights: meeting The Dictator (at his Mausoleum)

A Whole Year of Updates (3/5)

March 2012. The boyfriend and I were supposed to celebrate the actual fifth year together on the 18th but plans had been made with girl friends to tour Cebu. I pushed through with Cebu, enjoyed three days of sun, food, shoes and more food. Only to come back to Manila with the boyfriend mad at me.

It was my second time in Moalboal and I hoped earlier that the girls would arrange for a Camotes or Bantayan escapade. Still the same fun as last year's except that ALL the girls got drunk. Imagine six girls finishing two bottles of vodka and I-couldnt-remember-how-much bottles of beer. Everyone shared their heartaches and sorrows. It wasn't easy. Each one of us had a lot to deal with. But anyway, I wouldn't want to talk so much about this because as they said "What happens in Cebu, stays in Cebu".

The morning after.

April 2012. This month came by so fast. I couldn't remember any out of town trips except maybe for the random Tagaytay roadtrips the boyfriend and I do.

When Manila's temperature goes up and becomes unbearable, we take refuge in Tagaytay. An hour or so of driving and we're engulfed in cold air and very light atmosphere. The city boasts of scenic view of the Taal Volcano and Batangas bulalo. We preferred going to Mahogany (the meat market) than in those expensive restaurants. It felt more authentic because the karinderyas are fronting the market which sells beef only.

May 2012. My birth month. Quarter-life crisis got me a year earlier. Being 24, working in Manila, in a multinational company, having a boyfriend of five years, being far away from my family, I had a lot of questions in my mind.

The boyfriend and I had an extended misunderstanding (because I pushed through with the Cebu trip on our fifth anniversary). We weren't really arguing. We were simply drifting apart. I went out with my girl friends, shopped alone, worked myself out. He had extended hours with officemates, on beer, playing basketball and work as well. Our differences were more emphasized and seemed irreconcilable. What made it harder was the fact that we shared an apartment together. At home, we talked about nothing. We pretended there was nothing wrong with our relationship. We'd still hold hands while walking, kiss each other goodnight and hugged when he picked me up from the office. But the "I love yous" had been rare. Pretensions. Lies. Cover-ups.

Things at work were getting heavier but it was fun. My colleagues are loud, funny, perverts (hahaha), noisy, talkative and ate a lot. Pantry discussions made lunch more tasteful and pancit meriendas became venues for more adult talks.

Coping with what I call as "quarter-life crisis" will be in the next portion.



A Whole Year of Updates (2/5)

On a happier note comes the year 2012.

January 2012. New Year's eve was of no difference. The festive atmosphere was absent. Crackling of firecrackers, videokes in each corner and roaring laughter were replaced with eerie silence. Cagayan de Oro was different. And recalling what I heard and seen was heartbreaking.

February 2012. The boyfriend and I spent the Valentine weekend (and celebrated five years together) in the land of Chocolate Hills. We boarded in Bohol Bee Farm, where everything is "organic".

Dinners were awesome at Bohol Bee Farm. They always include their yummy breads and spreads, and spicy flowers salad.

Bohol Bee Farm is in the island of Panglao. The boyfriend and I stayed at the "Buko" Garden Bungalow Room. Everything was made of coconut - the soapdish, ash tray, bedside table, lamps and all the decors. Infront was a flower garden where chilled the afternoon away.

They also boast for diving and boating. We weren't into it at that time since it was just the two of us (meaning more expensive). Instead, we, again, lounged and relax infront of the water and breeze.

We also enjoyed the beach in Bohol Beach Club where it boasted pristine white sand that stretched for a kilometer or so. It was the perfect sun and sand combination. There's a swimming pool, for you non-beach lovers. Entrance is at Php350 on weekdays, and Php500 on weekends. Take out Php150, and the rest can be consumed on food and beverage at the restaurant. It was sulit. If we weren't that scared of getting our skin burned, we would've slept under the coconut trees, on the hammock, for much longer.

 

Our Bohol getaway wouldn't be complete without the countryside tour. Chocolate Hills, Loboc River Cruise, Baclayon Church and Museum, the man-made forest and seeing the tarsiers.

Me. Less Spark

I was reading Helga's neurotic rant on how she has matured and is different to her much younger self. This made me, well, sort of evaluate what I always wanted but still haven't done or made today.

My ambition to get a degree in Literature has been ticked off.

My longing to live independently has been crossed out as well.

My dream to live with my boyfriend and go to different places together.

This means only a few things to accomplish before a more mature and complicated chapter gets on - marriage. But you see, the things I'll be mentioning may be few but definitely more liberated than those I earlier did. I have the tendency to pull off a Lily Aldrin - leave an engagement for a dream she has always wanted, getting into a painting fellowship away.

To start with, I've always wanted to get into further studies. Ten years ago, I told myself to proceed to law school immediately after college. College came and made me think twice about it. Thus, my second choice to master Literature at a more reputable university. Whichever of the two choices, at least I'd like to accomplish one even if it means adding or losing four years of my life. How hard it may be, I don't seem to care. I may succeed or fail, at least at the end of the day I can say "I did it". Most of my friends in college are on their third year in law school. Yes, I envy them. Very much. But if it were me, I would still prefer studying in Manila. We have good schools back at home, but there are more opportunities to become an associate or study under more

accomplished firms here.

My next and maybe last in the list requires more than just all my creative and intellectual juices. I want to study abroad. A couple of years ago, I randomly sent application letters to universities and programs I liked. This means attending the British Council seminar on scholarship grants, sending my portfolio to University of Westminster and answering a whole lot of tests from

universities in England, Italy, France and Spain. Even as a kid, I fancy myself having tea with the Queen, watching the princes play polo and going to beautiful museums. Definitely sounds like a dream. But this dream has been made more concrete to me with an email sent from the Admissions Office of the University of Westminster. I have been long listed. They'd like me to find a program to fund my studies, get my travel papers done and many more documents to compile in just less than two months before start of class. Up to this day, the email remains in my most treasured folder. Practically, I asked if I can still apply for next semester or school year. I can and will need to get things done before I send in my letter to them again.

Hopefully when I've decided when I can get things done, I will have the means. I will have the time to become myself even more. I will have the confidence that everything will go the way I've always wanted. I will have that spark, that x-factor, the guts to make all these come true.

10 Things I Love About Living Here in Manila

Almost 20 long years, I have never lived anywhere else but Cagayan de Oro. Except for my up-to-a-month long summer vacations to several provincial regions in Mindanao, this has been my first time to have lived in a place far from home.

Dress-down Friday in the office

I didn't have to ask my parents to allow me to work in Manila. They knew this kind of decision would come. They knew me so well that by the time I let them read my job offer, they did not bother asking me if I'm sure about going away from home. They knew that after graduation I had plans of my own and that I will have to fulfill my plans, dreams and goals somewhere else.

It was never easy during my first month in Manila. I stayed with used-to-be-schoolmates-now-colleagues in an expensive dormitory in Ortigas (which was of course paid by Bayantrade). It was like a life and death situation in my life that if I didn't handle my time and money well, I'd have to go back home, hear the awful words "I told you so" and become a loser.

Now, I'm very proud that I've been able to adjust to the lifestyle and pace of living in the country's capital. I know that I will become better here - that I can go back home with pride.

Here is a countdown of the things, people, places, etc. which give me a reason to love staying in Manila.

10
Booze and grilled food on Friday and Saturday evenings with colleagues from the South - my Manila family.

at Trellis in Market! Market!

9
Working with people from UP, Ateneo and La Salle.
8
Seeing a lot of celebs - actors and models I only used to see in the magazines.
7
Going to unfamiliar shops and dining places.

at Nike Park in High Street

6
Internet access. If ever it gets boring at home, all I have to do is take a jeepney-ride to the office to surf the net and watch movies and series from surfthechannel.com.
5

Cooking, eating and sleeping. These are the most stress-relieving hobbies I do at home. I can do trial cooking (pasta, vegetables and grilled food), eating either at Manang's carinderia in the neighborhood or at the nearest mall, and also food deliveries!

at Tamayo's

4
Being able to buy almost anything I want. Shopping spree on weekends or just to window shop won't hurt. It also feels good being able to dress up at work. ^_^
3
Nice job in BayanTrade. Big opportunity for career development. Great work environment. Count in Bonifacio High Street and Serendra.

A Saturday with Sigi in High Street

2

Being able to go places - been to Bohol, Tagaytay and Laguna in just two months.

chillin' in Laguna and Tagaytay

1

Independence. Being able to live alone, discover more about myself and the world!

the Panglao, Bohol dreamers..

Confessions (Part 2)

Milkshake from Park Cafe and tempura from the manong whose rolling stall is usually found at the corner of Miggy's.

He drives his white Hilux very fast. She looks sideways - scared of what seems like the road to death. He plugs his mp3 player on his car stereo and the sound of Erik Santos ballads serenaded the two.

He was the typical young man - independent and free. He stays alone in a flat in Nazareth. His place is a wifi zone - thanks to him, his neighbors could have free internet access. He has money and power. His parents lavishly support him financially, and whenever he still wants to buy something new - maybe a Macbook or the Canon SLR he saw from Robinson's. He smokes but never drinks.

It's his spiritual belief that makes him watch for his madman behavior. He is afraid to going to their sacred house dirty. If he does drink, he is not allowed for forty days to worship with the "clean" people inside. He prays five times a day and fasts for 30 days in a year.

In her mind, it is impossible for them to be an item. Her best drinking buddy once told her that he is too rich. Not that there's a big deal about being rich or poor, but it's fearful to be with someone who's too rich and too powerful and a whole lot different from what you are. She glares at her friend for talking too much - maybe just because they have finished two liters of rhum coke. She imagines - back to the night that they were almost an item.

He stares at her. She can't look at him straight in the eye. She leans on the back of the chair and looks outside the window as the next song opens Stephen Speaks singing Passenger Seat. She thinks the moment is romantic. The car, the music, the night and the two pieces of tempura left. It would've been "more perfect" if there are words to be spoken - to hear from the other.

They drive around the city until midnight. Then he brings her home. Outside the gate, they park the car. She doesn't want to step out and get inside the house. She has been waiting for him to say something. When her hand touches the door to open it, he holds her other hand. Shocked, she stays still. Hands clasped together - but still not a single word spoken.

Both of them think that they are not ready - to make this sweetness and romance to the next level. It is better that way.

Sometimes All You Have to Do is Listen

I understand that we are not kids anymore. That most of the time our minds have a lot to express. We get very occupied with work and other things that we feel obliged or responsible on. Sometimes those things cloud up our minds and later on create a huge mood storm.

It is good to be mature - to feel, think and talk. Yet it doesn't mean that if we feel very responsible on something, we have to forget to be human. Maybe we have forgotten how it is to care, to show affection at and simply love. In those times, we forget ourselves, the people around us and Him.

We are human, not robots who just need batteries or keys to be winded up. We don't need oil to live, but hearts to feel alive.

The best way then to assure ourselves that we are still humans is to listen. Listen to the heart that beats, our loved-ones' advice and concern, and God's prayer to us. Yes, I believe that God also prays to us - not really pray like we do, but His response or form of refuge that He shares to those who need it. We don't have to say anything, we just have to open our ears, minds and hearts to loving forms of speech.

Nostalgic

The glowing light from the lamp post outside makes me feel nostalgic. Yes, very much. There's not much to do here in the office. I have scanned pages and pages in the worlwide web. I have tried my very best to keep myself busy. Friday the 13th. Nostalgic then.

Why on earth am I thinking of you? There are more things that must be inside my mind yet you blow them away. Sober - more than being lonely. Alone - more than being far away. Far away from the rest of the world where I've gotten used to, grown up, fell and learned. Perhaps, this kind of world will open up wider horizons for me. In what way - I question. Would this be a whole lot different? Would I survive without anything else in this new world which you and I have created?

I see tall buildings from my window. I wonder if our world is as tall and strong as those buildings. The velvet blue sky though reminds me that it is still dark - that the world had been dark. If then this reality comes into being, then maybe after darkness comes light that will illuminate and shine through everything and wake me up in this fantasy.

My Own Trip to Planet Biyo

Last week, I've read about Planet Biyo - the very noble life lived by a rural teacher who has been recognized as world-class. She is Professor Josette Biyo. I've heard about her back in high school. News spread about naming a minor planet in honor of a Filipino Science teacher. I haven't known until last week about what she really has done to the academe and to our country. She is indeed noble.

Last Saturday, June 7, I met another Biyo. It was when my colleagues in Bayantrade and I were hurrying to Makati for our Berlitz language training. We had to take the next bus, even if it meant standing for thirty minutes on it from the tenement in Taguig. So I stood, tried to finish my sandwich breakfast and tried to balance on the moving bus, with my two hands holding the sanwich and a Sparkle drink. Then someone from my left tapped my elbow. She offered a seat. The left bus seats can only accommodate three adults. There were already three of them seated. However, the lady insisted that I sit down. So I did. But when i tried to fit just one butt, the next lady said something. I didn't clearly get what she said but I was sure that she complained. I think I heard her also say "di na nga kasya..." Then the kind lady politely replied "share na lang tayong lahat...hindi naman atin itong bus. " The other lady didn't answer back anymore.

For thirty minutes inside the bus, I listened to the kind lady story-telling me about how a person will be blessed if he knew to share his blessings also. She told me how lucky she was. She had six children - four of them were nurses, an engineer and a seaman working abroad. The two younger children still study nursing. Her husband was a barangay chairman in their place in Cagayan Valley. She was a teacher there. She went to Manila to look at her daughter's three-storey house in Taguig who had been working in London for eight years. She also told me that she was sending a godchild to school which according to her "para rin guminhawa ang buhay niya at ng pamilya nila..." Her generosity also benefited their neighborhood kids who found it veyr difficult to buy new notebooks and other supplies for the incoming school opening. She offered to buy for them in Manila. She only shared how meager her salary as a teacher was. I then concluded that she was perhaps in a public school because she only got 8,000 Php as her net pay from her 15,000 salary. There were times that she had to use her own money to compensate for materials and the needs inside the classroom. I answered to her the story of Professor Biyo - how noble, passionate and selfless she was as a teacher. She also recalled about her trip to Hongkong with her family. She also kept repeating about being kind and sharing to others. She even gave me words which I should always tell myself - that I should ask God to open my heart, that He is the only one who knows and blesses the people, that He is great.

Yes, He is great because I've met that lady who have made me realize my capabilities of being able to share what I have to others. The next day will be her travel back to the province, bringing along with her the promise she has given to the hopeful kids.

As the bus stopped in Ayala station, I had to bid her goodbye. It was only then that she asked for my name. I gave my first name, but she also asked what my surname was. She also gave hers. She was Monica Tominao.

I'm not even sure if i heard her surname correctly. Yet, I will never forget the face and lessons I learned from the stranger who offered a seat to me.

In a Strange Place

I wasn't really sure about coming to Manila for work. I never thought that I'd leave my hometown for a great job offer in a place where I had always seen on TV as crowded and filthy.

Manila isn't that bad at all. It's been a month since my first day, and I sort of like the place already. Yes, some places here smell bad. The traffic is very bad. My worst complain about here is that everything necessary is expensive! A hundred pesos is not enough for the whole day. I have asked myself how can I survive in a place like this.

I used to walk home from school. I used to go home for lunch so that I could save some amount of money. I used to go to malls without a peso in my pocket. I would hang out with my barkada and not worry about spending too much. Because back at home, spending too much meant spending my money's worth.

Here in Manila, I always worry - what to eat, where to go and how to make use of my time. All those worries with another thought of how to get over those with spending only less.

Now, somehow I have gotten over those worries. I have learned how to struggle and survive from those struggles. I just wish that soon, I will have him with me here in this strange place.

How To Make Woman/Men Happy?

It's not difficult to make a woman happy. A man only needs to be:
1. a friend
2. a companion
3. a lover
4. a brother
5. a father
6. a master
7. a chef
8. an electrician
9. a carpenter
10. a plumber
11. a mechanic
12. a decorator
13. a stylist
14. a sexologist
15. a gynecologist
16. a psychologist
17. a pest exterminator
18. a psychiatrist
19. a healer
20. a good listener
21. an organizer
22. a good father
23. very clean
24. sympathetic
25. athletic
26. warm
27. attentive
28. gallant
29. intelligent
30. funny
31. creative
32. tender
33. strong
34. understanding
35. tolerant
36. prudent
37. ambitious
38. capable
39. courageous
40. determined
41. true
42. dependable
43. passionate
44. compassionate

WITHOUT FORGETTING TO:
45. give her compliments regularly
46. love shopping
47. be honest
48. be very rich
49. not stress her out
50. not look at other girls

AND AT THE SAME TIME, YOU MUST ALSO:

51. give her lots of attention, but expect little yourself
52. give her lots of time, especially time for herself
53. give her lots of space, never worrying about where she goes

IT IS VERY IMPORTANT:

54. Never to forget:
* birthdays
* anniversaries
* arrangements she makes


HOW TO MAKE A MAN HAPPY
1. Show up naked
2. Bring food

To Ryan

My love and will always be.

Thank you for extending your patience in me. Life has been very challenging to us, yet you remain beside me. You make me laugh with my antics in times when I feel like crying – which is almost everyday. Your chipmunks’ imitation never fails my laugh hormones. It’s very therapeutic. At times whenever I feel like wanting to skip classes and sleep instead, you push and wake me up. Although I don’t give a very nice response, later on I realize how helpful it is. No AF’s for me because of that.

Remember our Holy Cross vigil at Pelaez? For me, it made a good start in our relationship. I knew that God moved us with His hands and brought us together. I was at first hesitant. My love for you could never be enough to compete with God’s. It will never be. I was afraid of getting hurt. Yet God proved His magnificence and generosity for sharing the love to me. They were wrong when they said you couldn’t wear a slipper on one foot and a shoe on the other. Both are footwear. Your love for God can never be replaced by mine. It will always be your vocation.

Every time we pray together, I am amazed at how you speak to God. I have learned from you how to offer one’s self and surrender everything to Him. I am astounded at the way you think and pray for other people, even for those you do not know of. You have taught me how to be true to Him, how to acknowledge His ways and how to love God.

In ways I cannot count, thank you.

Bitter Realities

There are things in life that we realize the depth only until we have suffered. Perhaps, sufferings are part of it but what if I think too much is too much already. Sacrifices are essential for us to know how deep our feelings and emotions are. To have surpassed all the challenges would mean that one has become a stronger person. However, this would also possibly mean that another set of more difficult challenges are coming up.

I would never say to anyone that I am a perfect person but in my own ways, I know I am. I have my bunch of weaknesses but they are less than my strengths to be felt. Yes, I am self-glorifying here. Give me just this time to say something about myself. I have had enough. People tell me how great I am. Ironically, it doesn't show. I do not know about my greatness. All I know is how perfectly imperfect I am.

Work and study. I guess these two things don't go along for me. For how many times, I have wished from the stars to extend at least four more hours on my day. That would make it 28 hours for me to spend eight hours working, eight hours studying and doing org work, eight hours for sleep and extra four hours for eating, getting pretty, looking at life the way I did before.

My vision had been good. I saw rainbows, stars, butterflies and everything nice. Yet the more I looked at them closely, the more I knew that rainbows were only illusions, stars were only rocks floating in space with only some sort of gas producing the sparks, butterflies were insects which I do not like, and not everything was nice. Just like love (yes, love in the Armanic approach) which I realized that the more I held on to something, the more the person wanted to escape from my clutches and go away. Unfair. I find it unfair. Why? That is the question I endlessly ask.

~power of two, mymp song revivals, etc... playing in the office~
~everyone was at kat's despedida dinner~

I am alone here, blogging, doing my work and everything else. They've asked me to come with them. I should but I prefer working. I don't feel like laughing around at people whom I less talk with. I work because I need to work. Now, tears seem struggling to come down from my eyes. I want to cry. I want to express all the weariness and pain in me. The music here in the office doesn't help. I'm just here in the corner, infront of my PC, alone.

I think...

I've been in the blogging world since my first year in college. I was still with Xanga that time..Then came blogspot, friendster and now, multiply. For almost three years, my pages have been drowned with emotions that I so kept inside me. Things I cannot tell to real people, I write them to the cyberpeople. I cant avoid the times when I hesitate to talk with people. Actually, I always have such kind of times.

Just recently...I realized that my blog entries are too personal. They all talk about me, my life, my love, my pains, my world. Perhaps, I can redirect what I write. I could talk about political issues, the Arroyo administration, criminal cases, the GMA-ABSCBN survey lawsuits and anything else other than about me. Yes, I can start after this entry.

This Thing Called LOVE and THAT SOMEONE

L-lavish but laborious

O-open yet opinionated

V-vivacious though vulnerable

E-euphonic and exploitable

in this thing we call love, we become lavish in order to please someone. we become extremely generous and tend to give anything and everything to that someone. we do a lot of work and waste buckets of sweat to be able to exert such effort. it has become laborious already. the worst thing here is when the relationship becomes a work and a one-way process. one works out somethign for someone yet that someonesimply sits down on a corner and waits until the food is actually served.

when we love, we say we are open - open to accept the faults and frailty of the other, open to all questions and answers - all because of the reason of lovign that someone. however, when we get knocked out, we then limit ourselves to all the negative in that someone. we become opinionated and close-minded to how badly we see the situation. the mind then overpowers the heart.

love is vivacious - we are. we get inspired and moved by how in love we are. we get amazed by the sunset, the star-studded sky, the full moon and weep at teleseryes. we see colors everywhere and goodness in everything. we become high-spirited and does things with an ear-to-ear smile. but despite how animated we become in loving, we are still vulnerable to sadness and the pains of loving. though people who call themselves "experienced" say that we learn when we fall and get hurt, but it is such an unlikeable idea. human beings would always want to love and be loved and be happy in loving!

love is euphonic - sounding so nice and great that all people are enticed to get in love. it is like sugar-and-spice-and-everything-nice, butterflies and stars and rainbows all over. all that we see become so nice and romantic. we even feel like singing or humming to the tune of our most-loved songs and think of happy memories. with all such goodness, love is exploitable. we make the best use out of it. we cannot deny that we tend to love someone because we think that we can acquire something (though in abstract) or can profit in the relationship that in the long run we only satisfy our own selfish desires.

what really is love? a friend told me that "love need not be defined or else its magic and mystery is lost." we can only assume and make round-about conclusions according to how our own hearst feel it. =)