Wella's World

The Revenge of the Short, Skinny Dark-skinned Girl

2011-10-16T23:42:00.000-07:00

You know eventually I will have my say on this. And why not? I'm short. I'm skinny....and hella dark. Not that it matters now. God knows I've moved on from that overrated, superficial concept of Fillipina beauty. Although I must admit, that it did matter some twenty years ago when I thought having a little too much melanin is a plague and a bad karma you have to live with for the rest of your life. I grew up since then, thank God. And even so, I knew eventually that the world will either accept me or not. Either way, I'll be ok.
You see, when I was young I was nothing but an angry, unsatisfied jealous bitch. I remember praying to God, and I prayed really hard at the tender age of 5: "Lord, sana po pumuti ako. Sana po tumangkad ako. Sana po, gumanda ako". (Lord, I wish I will become lighter. I wish I will become taller. I wish I will become prettier). I thought in order to be accepted, I have to look according to that standard. My sister, as light as she was, would always be the choice of every young lad who are just starting to explore their hormones. My light skinned friends would be considered the pretty ones, yung mga tipong ligawin sa barangay namin. Muse, sagala, reyna elena, you name every event that needs that commercialized maputi look and they are on it. They were every karpintero's and mambobote's dream girl. Once my friend even said: "Sana, hindi na lang ako ganito kaganda..." Pathetic as it may seem but I wished deep inside that I was the one getting the cat calls so then I know what it's like to be pretty once in a while. But don't worry about me. I did get noticed too...if those little bastard boys needed someone to pick on or just plainly needed to feel better about themselves then I'm the person to do the job for them, at my expense. Worked like a charm, each time, everytime. Then I would ask my ever loyal one and only fan, Tyang Norma, if there will ever come a time when someone would take a second look at me without the mere purpose of breaking my heart. And of course being my number one fan she would give me the same pep talk: "Ay shimpre miron yan...basta maghintay ka lang..."
So I waited.
I am now 28. Happily married. No kids. Just doing my thing. Chasing my niche. I remember reading a very inspiring quote: "God answers your prayers in three ways: He says yes and He gives you what you want. He says no and He gives you something better. He says wait....and He gives you the best". Looking back on those days when I used to pray for God to create a miracle in my life, and when I say miracle I meant waking up in the morning, looking at the mirror, seeing a completely different person, short of flaws (and melanin, so to speak), immaculate, with a skin white as snow and bursting with rosy cheeks to give me that artistahin look. Instead, I would see plain old Wella with thick, straight, lifeless hair and big ass buck teeth that looks brighter than it really is thanks to my deep champurado skin tone. In fairness it gives me just the right contrast...and I would complain. Really complain with a passion you'd think there's nothing else going for me, blaming myself (and my parents of course who else would I get this look from?) in the process on why I was the butt of all jokes. So then I will always say to myself...He never listens. I look at me and nothing's changed.
But now I realize, no I didn't get any taller, or lighter. Matter of fact, He never gave me those things. But I waited and sure enough, He gave me the best. I'm wiser. I feel better about myself more than I ever did. You can say, I feel so much prettier than I did before. I'm not the best looking woman there is, but I can seriously look at the mirror and love what I see for I see a beautiful, talented person who will not stop at anything to fulfill her dreams. And yes, I'd look at the mirror all day if need be and never get tired. He gave me a husband too by the way, yes He did! Someone who accepts me for me regardless of my flaws.
I guess it was all my fault. I was one of those people who are unconsciously obsessed with physical attributes and material things thinking that those are the only things that matter to a person. I was stuck in this one way, blindsided 300 year-old presumption that has tainted our culture and deprived me of my capacity to love myself, that "light-skin" conspiracy as I call it that is not uncommon to any Asian race besides the Philippines of course: the lighter you are, the better you look. Mas maganda ang maputi. There. I just said it. And to every dark skinned Filipina I say to you: that is a load of crap. Bullshit. You are who you are regardless of your color. Stop wasting your money, your energy and your time in changing the way you look. Accept who you are and focus on enhancing what you already have. Throw away those papaya soaps, Godiva, Likas, Placenta, gluthathione (for heaven's sake) because it's not gonna do anything to you except make you feel more insecure. Trust me. Why else would I be writing this?

And speaking of revenge...here I am, twenty something years later. Post light skin ambition.

The 7 Secrets to Success

2011-10-09T21:31:00.000-07:00

I was watching 20/20 tonight (one of the very few shows I watch on T.V. ) and it featured the late Steve Jobs and his seven secrets that apparently other successful people utilizes and I was surprisingly inspired..so I thought I'd share it with you. It's a little cheesy and cliche but I gotta admit...it still did it for me.

1. Do what you love.
2. Put a dent in the universe.
3. Say no to 1,000 things.
4. Kick start your brain.
5. Sell dreams not products.
6. Create insanely great experiences.
7. Master the message.

So there you go. Short and sweet. Thank you, Mr. Jobs. and for the apple too!!!

15 Fictional Characters that Influenced Me

2011-08-29T20:52:00.001-07:00

1. Maria of The Sound of Music. I've watched the movie for the first time when I was 3. There is something refreshing about her character that always leaves me feeling good after being carried away into her world for 3 hours. Up to now I watch the movie every moment I can.

2. The Little Prince from the book itself. I dont remember specifically what happened but I cried the whole time reading that book cuz I just wanted to cuddle the little boy and didnt want him to leave (I sound like a pedophile writing this but I'm really not lol). I think that's when my separation anxiety with some people was realized.

3. Florentino of Love in the Time of Cholera- now this is what I call true love and devotion that lasts a lifetime. Would my one and only feel the same love and lust for me when I'm 80 and incontinent?

4. Edmond Dantes of the Count of Monte Cristo. I have a thing for revenge against people who hurt me in the past until a very good friend and mentor of mine told me that the best revenge is to simply be happy. Done deal. Thanks O.M.

5. Maria Clara of Noli Me tangere- Cuz her being too perfect and too good to be true annoys the hell out of me. This is not realistic. This woman does not happen in real life!

6. Cinderella- We all have our prince charmings written in the sky and no matter what, I've always believed in happily ever after

7. Liesl of The sound of Music- she's beautiful, she's sixteen and heartbroken. When I was sixteen, I was beautiful and definitely heartbroken :-) lol

8. Vivian of Pretty Woman. Need I say more?

9. Sayuri of Memoirs of a Geisha. She gave a whole new meaning and a sense of nobility to the job. She made it seem like being a geisha is so cool that I wanted to change my career at one point...but then again, geisha school or nursing school?

10. Juliet of Romeo and Juliet. Who wouldnt wanna be Juliet to Romeo? I want to be Juliet.

11. Betty La Fea- reminds us all the time that beauty is skin deep.

12. Marimar and Maria La del Barrio played by Thalia- I dont know if it's just a Filipino thing to be drawn to these stereotypical rags-to-riches stories.But I remember watching these telenovelas back home and I love how it evokes all sorts of emotion on my side.

13. Storm of X-men- I am just amazed by her superpowers.

14. Yellow 4 of Bioman- I wanted to Pink 5 but the part always go to my sister as always cuz all the boys wanted her to be pink 5 because she's all that with a bag of chips. Nope I'm not jealous. konti lang lol

15. Baby of Dirty Dancing. I'm not the best or perfect dancer out there, but when I dance I make sure to have the time of my life.

#pass them some water

2011-08-13T10:02:00.000-07:00

This topic was trending in twitter a couple weeks ago. Since I have a lot to say about people in dire need of it, I decided to make a list. In short, this is a list of my pet peeves and how certain actions of some people annoy the crap out of me:

1. Women who stick their tongue out in pictures. Women. Are you serious? What are you 6? First off, it's not attractive. It's unbecoming. I saw a whole photo album once with the same girl sticking her tongue out in every picture. In the club. All I gotta say is women, please act your age, not your damn shoe size. The same goes for men who should all act their age not their dick size. Pass them some water.

2. People who take pictures of themselves with their cellphones. In the mirror. In the bathroom (public or private). With a damn toilet seat in the background. I'm not saying that it's not ok, it's fine but please have some class and filter what you post for me to see. Some things are meant to be kept in private but I guess it's just me. They're seriously thirsty. Water please.

3. Vanity. People who think they always have to prove themselves and the only way of doing so is by buying and showing off a $5000 Louis Vuitton purse. It leaves nothing but one message: they don't have anything else going for them. $5000 for me is the amount of money left on my car payment. If I want a purse, a dress, or shoes then my ass is heading to the swap meet. Dehydrated of attention. Again, water please.

4. People who don't pick up after their dogs. If you're going to own a dog, at least be responsible. Dog shit doesn't decompose in one day. So please, get yourself a nice little bag, pick up that shit and stop polluting Mother Earth. While you're at it, you can have a glass of water.

5. People who cancel out on plans last minute. I'm just saying that if I make plans with you, then you must be that important. I take my time very seriously. Please respect it. If you can't make it on a certain date please be considerate and let me know. Don't make me hound you so that you can to tell me that you can't make it. This includes people who try to do last minute stuff with me. As much as I would like to accommodate everyone who wants to hang out and spend time, I have things to do and like to plan ahead. Doesn't mean I don't wanna chill, I just can't take my to-do list for granted. Have some water.

6. Liars, users, scam artists. Now need I say more? These people will use you for the moment. Then they disappear. These people becomes your very good friends when they need you, because you know you are here for them. Then they disappear. And when they get what they want, they move on to the next person...and disappears...for good.

I want nothing out of them, except maybe to pass them some water. However, they always find a way to creep into my very private life. It's exhausting and yet somehow I feel they are here to balance out the good since too much of everything and anything can be toxic. And of course, a perfect world can be absolutely boring. As for me, I don't wanna get associated with these types of people so I run away and disappear. For good.

I light one

2011-07-26T17:30:00.000-07:00

When I get into those moments, when I feel like I'm carrying a 500 lb weight on my back, ung feeling mo na napaka-hopeless case na ng situasyon mo, na parang wala ka nang magagawa kundi tumango at mag-agree na lang sa mga pangyayari sa buhay mo, no I dont bear my head down para mag-emote. Instead, I hold my head high, grab my ipod, walk to the patio and light a cigarette. I'm not gonna apologize for this bad habit. Masamang bisyo man o hindi, pero ito ako eh. Ganito ako. Masarap humithit ng yosi...nakakatanggal ng stress mo for a while. It fuels me to go on with the rest of my day...after that saan na nga ba ako? Ay oo nga, kailangan ko pang ilabas ang aso. Oh by the way, I gotta work out. I have to stop and catch my breath though, and this is how I cope.
I discovered the healing power that one cigarette has on my sanity a long time ago, some ten years back to be exact when I saw him that day...drove his conceited red car like I did not exist. From then on, kapag alam ko na I'm back to dealing with these raging emotions again and my limbs are getting ripped in the process, that one skinny white piece of a stick does its magic. Makes me whole again. At ok na ulit ako. Medyo na-uplift na ang outlook ko sa mundo.
Mahirap ma-stress. Mahirap masaktan. Lalo pa pag pinagsabay ang dalawang ito. Sabi nila malakas daw ako, perhaps kasi ive been through so many highs and lows. Ano pa nga ba ang choice ko but to get up and keep charging. So I get up para magsindi ng yosi at ibuga lahat ng mga frustrations at disappointments ko sa sarili ko at sa buhay ko for all the world to absorb.
I have my addictions. But its benefits outweigh the risk. Ano ba naman ang maghangad to feel elated sometime during my waking hours? Its priceless. Watching the smoke come out of my mouth and nose as it disappears into unpurified air is irreplaceable and creates a temporary stillness in the very depths of my being. Sabayan mo pa ng mga makabagbag-damdaming kanta that are blasting on my eardrums. To hell with the rest of the world. I tuned them out already. My only concern is Fiona. I pray that she does not develop lung cancer somewhere down the line from second-hand smoking.

time for a change

2011-07-20T22:56:00.000-07:00

Just decided to change the look and feel of my blog. Maybe it might also change my mood somehow. Para naman hindi masyadong on the dark side ang mga sinusulat ko. I like clouds. Make me soar. Guess its time for it.

in writing

2011-07-20T13:28:00.000-07:00

What is writing? Why do we do it? Why do we not do it? People have their own reasons why they write. I write not to impress other people. I do it for me. Somehow I figured out a way to immortalize myself, but that's not my only purpose. Writing heals me; it calms me down. Writing soothes my mind. Nothing feels better than being able to express yourself whether or not they like what they are reading. Writing has the same therapeutic effect on me as say, playing the piano. When I write, it's like I'm making love with my own mind. It's like orgasm without having to do much work. Afterwards, my mind is exhausted but satisfied. They say writing entails a great deal of talent. I say it entails a great deal of guts, talent or no talent. For me having a talent for writing is just icing on the cake. After all. everyone has their own story to tell. But then again, with passion comes perfection. I wasn't a born writer, or pianist, or a dancer but I live for those things since they are what keep me sane at the end of the day. I admit that there are far more talented and better writers than me and I applaud them. Since I started blogging, I've been criticized and praised for the things that I write. I've heard the best and the worst of what people have to say. "You can't write for shit." "You write too many big words, too big for you to decipher when you can't even speak English". "Ang galing mo magsulat. Nakakatawa". Dapat sumulat ka kay Ate Charo". "Pwede mo ba akong sulatan ng autobiography ko?"Mixed feelings. Mixed reactions. Mixed criticisms. I'll be a hypocrite if I say that it doesn't get to me at times because it does. I guess a person who is trying to be good at something will always encounter these arrogant, egocentric people who has nothing to exude but negativity.

But fuck it. Fuck them. I will write no matter how cheesy, immature, inappropriate my choice of words and topics are. I don't thrive to be understood. The only thing I want in life is to understand better my complicated self and free my mind in the process. So here's to writing.

inevitable

2011-05-15T10:12:00.000-07:00

A good friend of mine told me once that there are two types of people you meet in your life: the seasonal and the mainstays. Looking at the words themselves already give you an idea of what they are about. The seasonal people in your life will take you in for a ride. They make you exude emotions you never once knew existed. Yes, they make you feel brand new. You can love them or hate them. They can make your life better or bitter. They are here to season your life and make it a little more spontaneous and risque. But when the season is over, so are they. It is inevitable and it is always up to you to make your experience with them worth a lesson or two in life. Or not. The thing is these are the same people who make promises in your life in a spur of the moment...empty promises i must say. Maybe they meant it at that time, who knows. But once you determine a seasonal person in your life it is up to you to decide whether to let him in or out or set boundaries on how much you give yourself for that person and be responsible for whatever outcome he has in your life in the end. We all know that no one gets through your head unless you let them. And people can walk out of your life if they want to; it is not for you to decide. There will come a time that no matter how much you let go of that one seasonal person in your life, the fact is that he will always be a part of you and you know it. That is one of the good things about seasonal people: they leave a mark in your life and you are never the same again.
The mainstay people are meant to stay for the rest of your life. They are your "support group". They are with you no matter what, even if you have gone astray so many times. They will always take you back. They are not doormats. They just genuinely care about your happiness. We have a bad habit of taking them for granted, just because we know that we can always count on them no matter what. But mind you, we shouldnt abuse them. People have their limits and one day they might be that one mainstay exception who decides to walk out of your life for good. Like the seasonal people, they create footprints in our hearts but it never ends. And that is one good thing about our mainstays, they will take a bullet for us and will stand by us through it all.
In my 28 years I've met, encountered, loved, hated, and cried over these two types of people. I used to curse them with a passion but as I look back, I realize that they were just doing me a favor....making me a better person. For that I am grateful and I couldnt ask for more. Sometimes I think of them and what could have been had the "seasonals" stayed and the "mainstays" left. But I have learned to stop making things happen for me since it just hinders what is really supposed to happen. What is meant or not meant to be. I learned to be happy with the people I have in my life and let go of the people who are not naturaly built to create a long lasting relationship with me and be happy for the path they chose. Of course I'm being a hypocrite if I say that I've done this flawlessly each time. But I try my best to live as I say and respect my simple life principles. To my mainstays and my seasonals...this one's for you! *mbz*

Come back to me

2011-05-02T11:16:00.000-07:00

Minsan, naalala kita. Ikaw rin kaya?

aunque no estes conmigo aqui
en mi mente seras solo para mi
somtimes i try to see the truth
But I just can't believe that I'm without you
No te olvides de mi (ayyyy)
Que el mundo no se acabe..hasta que llegue a mi
I feel so sad and lonely..without you next to me
Cuando ibamos caminando y tu me besabas asi
Y mi amor I dunt wanna feel like this
So please come back to me
no tengo mas que darte solo el amor que di
sabes ques asi
(ay amor)
sabes bien cuanto te ame sabes que es asi
y asi yo siempre estare a tu lado corazon
y tendras mi dulce amor
yo solo que querido acercarme
de tu lindo amor y besarte instante
porfavor agarrame
y yo te lo juro q te amare
y no tengo mas que darte
solo el amor que te di
sabes ques asi
Baby please come back to me
I wanna be your ecstasy
Please come home to me

The Devil vs the Deep Blue Sea

2011-03-30T16:55:00.000-07:00

I remember a song by the Carpenter's called "I'm stuck between goodbye and I love you". Funny how it mirrors exactly how I feel about my relationship and my marriage. Sometimes I wonder if this whole thing is a huge mistake. Should I have just stayed in the military and kept on traveling? That would have been exhausting. How many more heartaches am I supposed to endure by then? But it doesn't really matter since everyday I endure the same hurt I've been trying to avoid all my life from the people I mostly cared about. I'm not whining about not getting enough attention and having my so-called thoughts and feelings invalidated. That I'm used to. That is a fact of MY life. I just want things to be right again, to be the way they are supposed to be. I want to go back to my carefree Okinawa days where my thoughts of him were nothing but pure bliss unlike now where I don't know exactly where I stand and where the relationship is going. Have you ever been in a situation where you know there is something wrong and yet you cannot say shit because all it's doing is complicating things more and you're left with no option but to move on and keep your "stupid tantrums" (as what he calls it) to yourself and let it all pile up to a point where you start flirting with the idea of serving him divorce papers for dinner? I know because I've been there so many fucking times. I've tried all sorts of communication, whether it's throwing a fit or just giving him the infamous cold, silent treatment. Nothing works. I see an end.

I have a story to share

2011-02-13T10:05:00.000-08:00

My cousin Kuya Noel decided to share with us a story about a deer and a carabao.
There were two friends, a carabao and a deer. The carabao was tied to a tree while the deer was free. One day the carabao said to the deer,"Good for you, you are not tied down. You are still free to run around and do whatever you want. And me, I am stuck here, since someone already got me". The deer replied, "I know. I'm glad I am free." And he continued to do what every free creature does: play all day. Not long after the hunters came, and guess who they shot? The deer of course. Why? Since the carabao is already tied, the hunters knew that someone already owned him. The carabao belongs to someone else and out of respect, they dared not touch him. Therefore, he was safe. And the deer...nobody owned him. Yes he got to play, but at the end of the day, the hunters came and got him.
I've been through different realizations in my life since I got married. Nandyan na yung mga constant atake ko ng midlife crisis, yung feeling ko na gusto ko uling maging single once in a while at maramdaman ung nag-iisa ka at malaya kang gawin ang gusto mo gawin sa buhay mo Yung walang responsibilidad. Walang inaalala na kesyo magagalit ba sya, papayagan kaya nya ako? But when it all comes down to it, I ask myself, bakit pa? With him, I am safe. And this is where I belong: right in his very arms. Is this better than being free to run around and test the waters? Yes, very much. Because I've met a lot of single women and God knows no matter how free and happy they try to be with the many men circling around them, deep inside they would do anything to take that one good man of yours to spend the rest of their life with because they know, he belongs to you and there must be something about you that made them stay. Why do I know this? Because I've been there. I've felt it. And I know a person to share the rest of your life with is way better than money, sex, fame or any material things in life. Not that I'm vain anyway. Just saying...

Birthdays through the years pt 2

2011-01-21T01:30:00.000-08:00

So, when I was 18, I had my debut. It was a good party. The only thing is that most of the guys who were supposed to be part of my 18 roses never showed up...so my uncles end up substituting for them...That year will also be the year one of my very many essays would get published in Young Blood section of the Philippine Daily Inquirer, the most read newspaper in the Philippines. Funny what love can do to you.
When I was 19, I ended up hanging out with a bunch of losers in my new school, since I got expelled from UST. That were the time when I wished I never tried so hard to fit in the group, but I was new and wanted so bad to belong, to be part of something. Big mistake. I could've spent my money somewhere else.
When I was 20, for some reason I felt like the whole world knew. I received a lot of text messaged from my friends and family who normally would never remember my birthday. I guess it's because two months from then, I would be starting my life anew in the US. Everything happened so fast that year. From a kolehiyala to a military girl somewhere...I'm thankful I survived.
When I was 21, I can legally drink in the US so guess what? My friends and I ended up in this Filipino bar/restaurant/karaoke/club in Virginia. I forgot what it's called..it was so long ago!
When I was 22, that was my last year in Virginia. SO as usual I partied with my friends and classmates from lab school. We went to this game bar called Jillians in Norfolk, Virginia. My friends bought cake for me and my other frend who was celebrating her birthday the day before. Then we headed to this club called Beachhouse I think in Virginia Beach. Five months later, I will fly to Okinawa and meet my future husband.
When I was 23, I was in a long distance relationship and was working at the same time, so nothing much happened. During the summer, my future husband would fly back to Okinawa to meet me for three weeks and we'll be heading to Thailand, Singapore and Mainland Japan. Those were the best days of my life. I hated going back to work.
When I was 24, I was happy since I'll be leaving soon and meeting M. He actually flew in from Cali for the New Year, but I was working during New Year so he stayed in the lab with me. He left on my birthday but it didnt bother me since I know I'll be seeing him in eight weeks time..only to get separated again.
When I was 25, I was working in 32nd street in one of the bases here in SD, I remember this asshole calling me a 6-yr-old like he was funny, on my fucking birthday dammit!!! I'll be 25 when I get married later that year.
When I turned 26, I was a newly wed. Two weeks after my wedding, my hsuband and I were broke so we ended up having dinner at Red Lobster which I love since lobsters are my favorite food of all time!!!
When I turned 27, I had a little get together with my that weekend at our new apartment. The day before my husband paid for my massage and facial. I love getting those. I've always looked forward to geting massages everytime I'm on vacation. The best one so far that I've had was in Thailand and of course, the Philippines.
Finally, now that I'm 28 my husband took me to a mini-vacation to this resort in San Diego in Paradise Point. It was good, I got another massage but a bit pricey. Nevertheless, I needed that. I needed to get away from the fast life here in the city, from all the stress I have in school. For just being here. I wonder when I'll be able to do that again.
So there you have it, my birthdays through the year. I feel like I never changed. The only thing that changed is my status in life and the way I look. But most days I look at the mirror and see the same person I've been looking at for 20-something years. Deep down I'm still the same girl that dreamt big, dreamt of becoming a star, a singer in a band, fly in an airplane, ride a boat, travel, leave the Philippines only to find myself wanting to come back again. This is my twenty-eighth year.

Birthdays through the years

2011-01-21T00:57:00.000-08:00

Last Saturday I turned 28. I'm not happy about it, although I should be. I started hating my birthdays about a year ago, as soon as I reached my late 20's. I feel like having a midlife crisis. I guess I've always had it in my mind that I'm scared of getting old but didnt care much for that when I was in my early 20's. Matter of fact, I did want to get old. But now I'm facing the inevitable. It feels like a year is only 6 months. And sooner or later I'll be a year older again. But you know what the good thing about it is? I remember every single birthday I had since I was six...and every highlight of my year since then. Except when I was seven didnt rellay know much about it. So here are my birthdays through the years:
When I was six I used tot ell my mom that I wanted to be princess, and that I wanted a princess birthday. So, she bought me a little white dress with earrings to match came that day, for my party. That was also the day when me, my brother and sister together with my cousins (headed by Kuya GF who now has a daughter of his own) went biking and ended up in the mountains somewhere. The oldies were mortified of course and were looking for us all afternoon until my dad took a tricycle and found us. Kuya GF of course, got some ass whooping while we were locked up in the bedroom for a couple hours.
When I was eight I had another party and was wearing my sister's first communion dress. I was also a princess then. I remember my mom taking me to this local backeshop in Novaliches (Bayan, as it is usually called) called Merced to pick my cake. It took us hours but for some reason I kept going back to the picture of this princess again with balloons ligned up on her steps and a big heart behind her where tey would usually put your name. When I got home my sister and our friend, Osang asked me excitedly what my cake would look. I couldnt really describe it but I told them it was pretty.
When I was nine, my dad bought a live chicken that morning and let us watch him kill it. I felt bad for the chicken I wanted to take care of it but my dad said that somehow the chicken knew its purpose in life...and that is to get eaten. He asked me if I had a big party and if my classmates greeted me that day when I got back from school. I said no. Nobody knew.
When I was ten, my mom asked me what I wanted for my birthday and I said I wanted a doll. So I got one, a big green doll named Jessica. My parents also gave me 50 pesos, the most cash I've ever held on to treat my friends. So I bought them ice candy for one peso each, and spent the rest for myself buying what I love, stationeries. I also got me an ID case/necklace that you just wear instead of having your id pinned on your shirt and creating holes. That would also be the year that would me change forever since that was the time I had an accident.
When I was 11, I was in fifth grade going into sixth. I was in school and as usual, nobody knew it was my birthday. That year will also be the year I will have my first period...it was in August. I remember having this huge red pimple on top of my nose and at one point I got called Rudolph by the mean kids shortly before I had my first period.
When I was 12, I think we had a party at my house but didnt even know it was for me. I graduated from elementary school two months later. I will be a freshmen in highschool in the middle of the year when my worst nightmare (or so I thought) would come to life and would persist for a couple more years.
When I was 13, I was an outcast in my school. So nobody knew. I was a freshmen in highschool but surprisingly two of my friends remembered and gave me a card. One of them was Christine Galarpe, and the other my friend Aina Cunada. From that year on, Aina and I would alwasy exchange birthday cards on our birthdays and that is how I always remember her birthday, even before the internet and social media made everything so easier and automated for you. I also remember my grandma giving me this Jules Jurgensen watch with real diamonds on the side. I was scared to wear it.I also remember her message clearly: You are now a teenager, and you have seven years to enjoy the most amazing years of your life to the fullest. I remember thinking to myself...seven years? That's a long time!
When I was 14, a friend of mine from New York planned a surprise party for me. It was supposed to be a surprise but I kinda had an idea cuz my sister was telling my mom so she'd let us go. I remember her recording it on tape (audio), they set up a "banig" at the back of her house and placed a candle on it. We had pancit canton with hard boiled eggs, which were our favorite food a that time. I think they also bought fish balls from the neighbor.
When I was 15, I was training for CAT so nothing much really happened.
When I was 16, that was my year in highschool. I've had so many experiences that year both good and bad. One thing I will not forget is how my English teacher read a poem to every single one of her classes that I wrote especially for her to express all my angst for her, hoping to get a reaction from her little elite friends and put me on the bad side. Guess what Deus, your plan never worked. Because unlike you, I have real friends like Geng, who as you might have remembered the very first person who came to my defense. Thanks a lot for trying to make me the antagonist of your life. That would also be the year when I will fall in love for the first time and that love will never be reciprocated but sure would last for the next five years of my life.
When I was 17, there was a party at my house but not for me, it's a welcome home party for my grandma who at that time just came back from the US. My grandma gave me a gift as she always does every year until now and that's how the rest of the guest found out it was my birthday. Then they started asking my mom why she didnt even mention it and my mom was just like "oh...you know..."

to be continued...

ano na?

2010-12-11T03:17:00.000-08:00

my mind is constantly cluttered. there are so many things i wish to write about but i dont know where to start. its been a long time since i have written something. dont even know if people are still interested in what i have to spill. but if you are reading this then i'm hoping you're one of those who do not mind what i have to say.
my heads been throbbing everytime i would get up in the morning. orthostatic hypotension, thats what we call it in nursing school. siguro im dehydrated. siguro im stressed. i've never felt so tired this year than when i got to this semester. people are just being straight up cunts and not even bitches. cunts. and speaking of them i just encountered one maybe yesterday, or a couple days ago. i will not elaborate on the whole story but hopefully he's gone for good. i dont have any regards for what he has to say. if he decides to say something then good i'll give him a piece of my mind. but if not, that's even better. that's all.

it's funny how it's so easy to say that people do not have the power to get in your head unless you allow them to, and that eveyrthing you feel and think is all you, but then really is that what happens in real life? they have nothing to do with it. they're just little pricks pushing your limits. hoping to get the best and worst out of you but sometimes you cant help it. your super brain barrier, no matter how impermeable it is to certain assholes that you try to avoid contact with as much as possible, somehow they find a way to mess things up and cause imbalance in your life. if im the one attracting the negativity i dont know. but as the famous mantra says: and this too, shall pass.
and it will. maybe not now but in the next semester. or maybe two semesters from now. whatever it takes and however long it takes it will pass.
i really wish things slow down a bit after this semester...i better get through it. one more week before christmas break which i hate since it's not even a break cuz we have group projects to take care of, then two weeks of finals before i get a 3-day break. this time of the year is when i really wish im back in the philippines. life is much more uncomplicated and holidays are way better over there than here. but what can i say? i'm here now. i'll be home soon but not yet.

A short story

2010-10-20T08:23:00.000-07:00

Once upon a time there was a girl...sailing across the seas of the unknown. She knew what she wanted in life, and has everything she could have ever dreamed of. When she was very young she wished for a fairy tale to happen. And even if everyone tells her fairy tales only happen in daydreams, she believed in it. She believed that one day her prince would come and sweep her off her feet. And he did..only it was too late. For this girl was already engaged to her knight in shining armor whom she feverishly adored with all her heart and soul and mind and whom she promised to spend her life and give her heart entirely to. But the prince with his curly black hair and big brown Cuban eyes took her breath away and there was no turning back. And she was helpless. She melted at the sight of him, wondering how anyone could almost be so perfect in everything he does. She was intensely, inexplicably, irresistably drawn to him like a magnet...and she liked it.

Then she woke up. Suddenly she was not sailing anymore. She is finally home... to the one she truly belonged. She felt a sigh of relief. It was only a dream. Nothing more, nothing less. And although everything she felt in that dream was as real as the sheets she laid on, that tormenting gaze that she had just so sensed was slowly fading away in the vastness of time and space. And out of the blue she was never the same again. She still thought of him yes, from time to time but mainly to relieve that moment she was put under his spell, that emotion she wanted to feel over and over again.

But he is no more than just an illusion. And the girl wanted something real. Fairy tales are nothing but silly stories made for girls to expect more than they could handle, she realized. And what is infinitely real is the man standing (or sleeping, for that matter) right next to her all this time and the promise she made to him. Everything became clear to her now. You see, she would never do anything to hurt him nor jeopardize their commitment. In the end what matters most is waking up into each other's arms no matter how bad the night before had been. What matters is that however constantly they lose their way, only true, flat, and plain pag-ibig would always find them back together. And so the girl and her knight lived happily ever after. The End.

lifelong mantra

2010-07-13T09:48:00.000-07:00

whatever i've gotten myself into, whatever i'm going through right now, all the pain and stress of living and everything to that effect, every word that i ever regret saying...it will all pass. people forgive or forget or do both. But it doesn't matter anymore since it's been said and done. I'm not sorry for the way I think but I am sorry that I said it tactlessly with an air of sarcasm.

Siya

2010-07-05T20:46:00.000-07:00

Tsk tsk tsk...ang facebook nga naman. Ang galing mang-asar..ang galing bumuhay ng mga taong halos ibaon mo na ang mga memories. Lately kasi naalala ko siya. Lately lang nakita ko sya. So sinubukan ko siyang i-add. ang lolo mo inaccept naman ang imbitasyon ko. Kinonfirm naman nya na once, nagkaron kami ng koneksyon. Siya...ang pangalawang lalakeng iniyakan ko. Ang unang lalakeng nagpatibok ng puso ko dito sa Amerika..siya na bumuhay sa mga natatanging makamundong pagnanasa ko na kulang na lang sabihin kong: "nandyan ka pla". Siya...ang lalaking may nakakatunaw na matang kulay hazel lang naman, na nakilala ko nung unang araw ko sa Corps School, dun sa Great Lakes, Illinois kung saan para akong nakawala sa kulungan matapos ang dalawang buwang training, noong panahong hindi pa ko gaanong marunong mag-English. Ang dami kong gustong sabihin o ikwento tungkol sa kanya..bigla kasing bumalik nung nakita ko siya uli. Isang buwan din kaming tumagal nun..sana nga mas tumagal pa kami kaya lang at that time paalis na sya. Tapos un..naalala ko siya...
Kaya lang nag-move on na siya...may mahal na siyang iba. Parang ako..nag-move on na rin. Hindi ko naman alam kung minahal nya ko. Sineryoso, oo. Nirespeto, siyempre naman. Pero minahal? Hindi ko rin masabi kung minahal ko siya. Pero matindi lang naman ang naramdaman ko noon na siguro kung tumagal pa kami dun na rin nauwi un.
Wala lang..minsan kasi parang hindi ko maiwasan na isiping anu kaya kung binigyan nya ako ng chance? Kung nagtiwala siya na pwede mag work ang relasyon kahit pa sampung karagatan ang pagitan nyo? At lately in fairness napansin ko lang na nagiging suki yata sya ng mga daydreams ko. Masaya naman ako para sa kanya. Pitong taon na rin naman ang nakalipas at natural lang na wala na siyang reaksyon pagdating sakin. Although dalawang taon pa bago ako makapag-move on. Pero nakapagmove-on naman ako.
Un lang. Mahal ko ang asawa ko..huwag sanang masamain kung naikwento ko siya. Meron lang kasing mga taong nagiging parte talaga ng buhay mo kahit pa hindi naman kayo nagkasama nang matagal...isa na siya dun.

perfect

2010-06-19T14:35:00.000-07:00

have you ever felt questioning your decisions at times? have you ever felt like there's something missing in your perfectly made life (or so they thought)? Sometimes i feel like i just wanna get out of this place. SOemtimes I feel like leaving but there's nowhere else to go. SOmetimes I just wanna get away. In short, sometimes I'm not happy with my situation, or with what life has brought me. I'm not happy with my marriage. There, I just said it.
I dont know if it's just me and my constant episodes of midlife crisis. I find things that really aggravate me. I know it's not that serious..such as unwashed dishes, unfolded laundry, unfinished papers that is due ASAP or else you wont be able to apply for that officer commissioning thing you wanted, or the dog was never taken out and what were you doing if not sleeping? on the computer, playing your retarded game. is it too much to ask for an initiative that when you see the laundry hasnt been folded that you go ahead and fold it? is it too much to ask to put away your clothes and try as much as possible to clear up the clutter? is it too much to ask for the dishes to be washed because i had a long day at school plus the fact that i have tests and schoolwork to do and deadlines to meet and i really have to study or else our pursuit for financial freedom wil be jeopardized? I probably have no right to say these things as of now since technically I depend on you and your income to meet my basic needs. But I think it's just fair that you share a part of the housework because being a student is not a joke especially if you have five times the responsibility compared to being a student 10+ years ago in the Philippines. Besides, this is your home too. Can you at least be a little more proactive on your belongings? Yes, I go to school, when I come back I have to study but do I study? No because I have to cook, wash the dishes, do the laundry, clean, and clean some more, put away your stuff and by the time I'm done with everything I'm too tired to even do anything for myself. And you, this is what you do: go to work, come back and sleep. Pay the rent and cable every month. Take the dog out sometimes if I get too caught up cooking your food. And then you ask me what is wrong and walk away and act grumpier than I already am. If you do not care how I feel then dont even ask in the first place..oh wait you never ask. FIve mad years and you never asked. Instead, you assumed everything will be better as soon as I sleep it off. Well I tried that didn't I? been taking benadryl for the last 3 nights just to sleep it all off matter of fact. But it can't be fixed. I need your ears. I need you to listen so I can tell you what the hell is wrong with me. I am not going to come up to you and tell you this is what is going on in my mind because you know what? You never listen. I just end up on the bad side. I just end up being the nagger. Because you never ask for that information. Nagmumukha lang akong tanga sitting here talking when your attention is on those damn Kardashians.
But you know something is wrong. You know something needs to be talked about. Don't just sit there and wait for everything to be perfect again. It just won't be.

the art of self-actualization

2010-06-02T11:42:00.000-07:00

In one of my dry readings in nursing school I encountered a theory that really caught my attention. It is a theory by Abraham Maslow. I encountered Maslow in my college years way back when but didn't really pay attention as I was in school mostly to get over the college hype without that longing part of me to learn. Now I have this want to grasp every learning experience that comes to my life not only because I'm in school but because I know it will help me in the long run to become the person I want to be. I am not getting any younger and it is sad that I haven't fully gotten to know myself. I am complicated...but is it how every human being is?
So who is Maslow? Maslow is well known for his needs theory. According to him, there are five levels of needs in a human being. The first and lowest level is our physiological needs. As we all know this is our basic needs which involve food, shelter, clothing, and the like. The second need is our need for security. Self-explanatory. We need to protect ourselves from harm. From murderers, rapists, death, diseases, or even the environment. Whatever we think could harm us in any way, we try to avoid. The third is our need for love and belongingness. As the famous saying goes: "No man is an island". We are social beings whether we like it or not. Even sociopaths need people. We need to be loved and belong because it validates us and our wave of emotions. The fourth need is where people often go wrong: the need for self-esteem. I understand that there are days which are just not quite working for us but I've seen a lot of people with issues. Always degrading themselves to fish for that one tiny compliment their world seems to revolve on. Some I might say will never get passed this stage. With self-esteem comes self-respect. I'm not going to elaborate on this because each one has their own perception of self-respect and I accept that.Totally. The fifth and the highest need a person will ever have is the need for self-actualization. And this is what I want for you to reflect on. Passed the physiological, passed the security, love, and self-esteem is a need that I believe takes a lifetime to fulfill. Some people might not even be able to accomplish it at all. When I look at my own life I admit that I'm afraid that I'd become one of those who will never achieve self-acutalization at its best and it will be such a waste of the years I've lived. I have yet to satisfy my need for self-esteem to be honest let alone my need to develop my maximum potential that I'm still not aware of at this very moment. So to give you an idea of the characteristics and values a self-actualized person exhibits, here is a list taken from Kozier and Erb's Fundamentals of Nursing:

-is realistic, sees life clearly and is objective about his or her observations
-judges people correctly
-has superior perception, is more decisive
-has clear notion of rigt and wrong
-is usually accurate in predicting future events
-understands art, music, politics and philosophy
-possesses humility, listens to others carefully
-is dedicated to some work, task, duty or vocation
-is higly creative, flexible, spontaneous, courageous, and williing to make mistakes
-is open to new ideas
-is self-confident and has self-respect
-has low degree of self conflict; personality is integrated
-respects self, does not need fame, possesses a feeling of self-control
-is highly independent, desires privacy
-can appear remote and detached
-is friendly, loving, and governed more by inner directives than by society
-can make decisions contrary to popular opinion
-is problem centered rather than self-centered
-accepts the world for what it is
(quoted from Berman, Snyder, Kozier and Erb "Kozier & Erb's Fundamentals of Nursing Concepts, Process and Practice 8th Ed p. 274)

I was just thinking..how do you master the art of self-actualization? How do you judge people correctly when we can't help but be personal in our judgments? How do you accept the world for what it is, no more no less when you see the inequality it brings about on its people, on you? How do you predict the future accurately? These are the traits and knowledge that seem impossible to even tap on but are out there for the kill. And yes, it's a journey. But isnt that what we are here for in the first place? Unfortunately I haven't met anyone who I beleive possesses these traits but if you know anyone, or if you yourself believe you can act upon these attributes innately without even trying, then I commend you. As for me, my journey towards self-actualization begins today.

Once upon a time in Okinawa...

2010-05-22T17:07:00.000-07:00

A love story unfolded. I was going through and organizing my old computer files wen I came across a music video I made a couple of years ago about how he and I started. This is actually set in the summer of 2006 when he came back to Okinawa after 11 months of separation, anxiety, and crazy telephone bills. So after venting my frustrations on a family member who is not too crazy of what I've become physically (thanks for all the moral support btw), allow me to have a breath of fresh air and smile at some fond moments created by one simple, plain, flat, unquestionable pag-ibig.

my dear...on your criticisms.

2010-05-18T09:08:00.000-07:00

I'm sorry if I come off a little harsh sometimes. I just thought you do not realize how sharp and tactless your words are especially when it comes to a simple topic like say...these wonderful little acne brewing on my face. Yes I know, what do I expect? It will be the same reaction like you had ten years ago. But I am not a 17-year-old insecure little peasant anymore. I know what I want in life. Lingid sa iyong kaalaman, I've developed my own perception on how the world works as much as how my skin flares up. I am not ignorant to the fact that your skin is better than mine whether or not it should be. So please let me be. Kesyo naaawa ka sa akin dahil sa kinahinatnan ng pagmumukha ko. Kesyo nakikinig ako sa bawat sabihin ng doktor. Kesyo maganda naman ang hubog ng mukha ko hindi nga lang makinis. Punyeta! I do not need your sympathy nor pity. Most of all I do not thrive on your half-meant compliments. Tigilan na ang pagpapalubag-loob pagkatapos mong tiris-tirisin sa inis ang taghiyawat ko because you couldn't bear to look at them. All I need, and this is what I really need is for you to let me be whether or not pinagpipistahan nga ng taghiyawat ang mukha ko. Un lang. Please lang.
The world has forgiven me and accepted me for who I am and how I look...of course it didn't have a choice. I hate to admit it but mothers like you are the reason daughters tend to hate themselves and resort to all sorts of unimaginable physical modification that ever existed in the hopes of satisfying themselves and in the end, pleasing you. Well I am sorry to say that your 27 years of trying to make me look according to your standards failed. I refuse to eat every greasy Filipino food just so I can be to that weight you think is healthy. Maybe I look anorexic most of the time but it is not my choice. Did I mention that all these years I never got sick? Maybe being healthy also means "not being sick" for a long time and not just being 20-30 lbs over your ideal weight. Maybe you failed to see that this is my body type, has been my body type all these years and was never fat at any given point in time except of course, when I was 8 months old. Maybe someday you'll realize that yes, I know and recognize my acne's existence and doing everything, the best that I could in my power to get rid of it and the last thing I need is you bickering about how I do not wash my face more often.
I cannot be who you want me to be. We are two completely different individuals and I am not the mestiza, makinis, maputi ang balat type your side of the family strives to be. I have my imperfections. A lot of them, actually. And yes, I have acne; but I am still a f*n human being apparently. Why can't you just hope for the best for me?

all i ever wanted was to learn how to dance

2010-05-11T07:00:00.001-07:00

Last night I had my first injury (as all athletes do). I figured you gotta get hurt sometime. I am not an athlete but the stunts that I was doing all for the sake of fitness can put me in the category of wanna-be gymnasts. A couple of months ago, 3 months to be exact, I discovered my passion for poles. I don't know why but the moment I held that 2-inch steel in my hand..there was no turning back. I was hooked. There. And my addiction brought me to spend only a couple hundred bucks and left my unemployment fund crying and my jaws hurting all night.
So how did it come to be that my jaws are hurting instead of my shoulders or arms? Simple. I didnt use my jaws to grab that thing...I just assumed that I can scheme through different levels of pole dancing and jump straight to the advanced tricks and before I knew it my head was going down faster than my hands could ever stop me and not wanting to fall flat with my oh-so-pretty face on the carpet (which I'm very thankful it wasn't hardwood floor), I used my jaws as a cushion instead. Don't judge me. My husband was there and I was trying to impress him with my moves like he could care less. But what was I thinking ignoring the proven old mantra you have to walk first before you could run? Isn't that what I did when I started playing the piano? It took me years of practice and longing, literally all my life to be able to play the way I do now..and I know I'm not the best out there.
I just realize that I was in a hurry too much. I want to be up there with K.T. Coates, who by the way, had dyslexia. It's only been three months. This person has been doing this for 20 years or so. Now I'm just slowly realizing all these beginner spins which 3 months before I had no idea how to execute and I'm not even giving myself credit. Instead I decided without a pro's consent that I'm up to doing inverts...and here's my jaw giving me a wake-up call. Letting me know that it's actually the learning experience and interpretation that matters, the journey ika nga to be where I want to be and what tricks I can do or level I'm on.
All I ever wanted was to dance. It makes me happy. I don't care what other people think. I don't care if it paved my way out of that top university and sent me packing some nine years ago. I don't care if people think of this as an explicit act. If you know how to work that pole and you work it good...it's called talent. It is exotic and unique. And it can be learned. It is not only for strippers. That is stereotyping and I hate it when people put a stigma on something beyond their grasp. It is for women who are confident enough to break barriers, let go of their inhibitions and tread through unfamiliar territory. This is what I'm doing at the moment. Follow my journey if you will.

for him

2010-04-13T23:39:00.000-07:00

Eversince you left my days were spent in endless patterns

I tried to convince myself that I'm fine...I'm making it

only to realize that I miss you more than I ever did before

I know this is only temporary.

In fact, I know that you're coming home soon.

Still, I can't help but feel helpless about our situation.

I long for your presence everyday, hoping in my mind that you get the same comfort you would've gotten had you been here with me.

I want you to know that I'm only a phone call or a letter away, wherever you are..

and that I am here, loving you, waiting...

today, tomorrow and always
for that not-so-distant day when you'd be in my arms again.

alone again, naturally

2010-03-30T11:38:00.000-07:00

He left this morning...after two months of waiting..two months of prolonged agony wondering when this deployment will push through just to get it over with. I did not cry at the airport. Natatae pa nga ako eh while waiting for him to go through security. I wanted to make sure that everything is fine and if he needed anything i can go get it for him real quick. Now i'm sitting here waiting for his phone call. The trip to Liberia is not a joke. I don't even know where on Earth that place is. Didn't know such a country existed until he told me that's where he was going. One month lang naman eh. 4 weeks. 30 days. In fact he already has his itinerary on the way back. We've been through the worse. I'm talking 2 years separation and two deployments back to back. But it just feels different coming home to a dog instead of a person. For the first time in a long time I am actually alone, physically. I still feel like he's just at the hospital and that he'll be back this afternoon. His clothes as usual are scattered everywhere in the house but I don't mind. nandun pa rin ung pinagkainan nya and the cup he drank water from last night or this morning.
I guess this is the life of a military wife.It's funny how I always thought that it's hard enough to leave for a couple of months, to be the one actually leaving your loved ones (as I always did the moment I braved NAIA) for a 6-month voyage to the other side of the world. Now I feel like it's harder being the one left behind. When you are leaving, of course you are sad until you can no longer ignore the excitement and curiosity creeping within you as to what these new places have to offer. In short, you have something to look forward to and at the same time something to bring back with you. Whether it's cheap gold from Bahrain or precious rocks you took while scuba diving in Jordan, or "buy-me-drinky-clothes" you bought from Downtown Sydney, even the simplest life lessons you learn from a different culture, it is an experience of a lifetime. Meanwhile, if you are left with nothing except the usual things and errands you tend to day by day, then you are left with a routine. Nothing changes. Now, which one goes by faster?
But I'm happy for him. My sailing days are over and it's time that he get a bittersweet taste of being away from home. This is his moment, his shine, an opportunity to make something better out of his life. A chance to work harder than he probably ever did in his whole navy career. To swallow, scoff and puke as much bullshit as he can from people from all walks of life.
Don't worry about me. I have a whole month to get to know me again. I have classes to attend to. Homework, housework and on top of that, my little Fiona to take care of. We will have a blast.

undecided

2010-03-22T15:04:00.000-07:00

andito na naman ako...undecided. asking myself is it really worth it? is this what i want to become? is this what i want to do? or do i wanna do it simply because everybody is doing it, or it is what is expected of me? perhaps i'm discouraged by this instructor's monotonous voice. but that is how they are i suppose, especially if they're teaching something as uninterestingly objective as anatomy and physiology. now why did i not take this class in college back then? oh wait, i know... i used to major in chemistry, something which was decided for me because that's what was expected of me (or maybe because i just didn't have any balls to decide back then). and that's how i end up spending my college years in patterns. twenty-seven years of my life and i wanted to become a lot of things. from a pianist to a ballet dancer to a freelance writer, trust me; i wanted them all. at one point i even wanted to be a celebrity...a model of some sort...i just don't know how. i still do. i believe i'm capable of endorsing something and making it believable...kahit pa tampon man lang or toilet paper i'm definitely fine with that. after all, we all gotta start somewhere, right?
so un. just thought of giving you guys, whoever you are, my very loyal followers of this blog, a piece of my mind in this slow afternoon hour. don't worry about me though. i have a lot of raging hormones inside me that cause these unsettling emotions. i'm a woman ika nga.

lingo

2010-03-02T10:53:00.000-08:00

Somebody told me that I can't speak English. It's nothing new, actually. I heard that comment so many times all my immigrant years in the U.S. You hear it so many times from people from different walks of life and after a couple years of enduring those mindless, racial comment it just numbs you by the tenth time. But today my buttons were pushed. I had to take action and bombard his face with cockiness. Yes, I am a Filipino girl who sounds Chinese once I start speaking English, so fucking what? If you're not up to hearing a thin, high-pitched Fukien accent, why in the first place, are we having a conversation? You are once an immigrant too just as I was some twenty-something years ago. Please remember that both of us weren't born in this fucking country. The fact that you would still like to talk to me despite my lack of knowledge when it comes to the eminent English language has got to mean something, ain't i right? And unlike you, I am not going to stay in this pathetic country forever. I am just an ordinary person trying to make a living, trying to make my life better because I was given an opportunity to travel and I willingly grasped it. But after I get what I want from your very generous government, I'm packing my shit and going back to where I came from, and where I truly belong like you said so and using what I have learned and earned on the real people who deserve it more than anyone else. Please also take note that despite my rigid tongue I have been in a committed relationship with someone who doesn't speak any other language but English and we are doing just fine. Why? Because he respects but never judges or criticizes me for something as inapplicable to our relationship as my fabulous Filipino accent. Get over it.

things that i'm grateful for

2010-03-01T09:29:00.000-08:00

there are things in my life that i'm grateful for. my life is not perfect, but i live the best way i could, and part of living to the fullest is stopping to reflect on the things that you have instead of complaining for things that you don't have. here are some of mine:
1. my breath...for without it, i won't be here and alive right now.
2. my husband who promised to grow old with me through thick and thin
3. my family...i'm just thankful i have them
4. my very few selected friends here and back home and they are enough. i don't need another acquaintance in my life
5. the fact that i am still going to school and having the government pay for it..it's like going to school for free
6. fiona..she's a brat but i love her.
7. our nice little apartment..it's not something we can call our own but it's nice to go home knowing you have a place to stay
8. my unemployment check..it helps us get by for now
9. being a military veteran has its perks too
10. so does being a military wife.
11. being able to travel and see a part of the world i only could've dreamed of
12. my car. it's a necessity over here. if i were in the philippines i wouldn't have thought of buying one. i do not mind getting pushed and pushing people just to try to get inside jeepneys and buses (may kasama pang mura at dura ng plema na kulay green). matter of fact, i kinda miss the uncomplicated life back there.
13. doing things a normal person can do without being held back by some kind of disability.
14. having been able to live the hard life...makes me appreciate more what i have now
15. being imperfect..making mistakes...getting hurt sometimes but learning to forgive and move on...it gives me room to learn. i don't want to be perfect. i think it's a scary thing. being perfect is not human at all and that is what and who i am..a human being..oh wait i forgot i'm a goddess too. char

love song

2010-02-10T17:35:00.000-08:00

There's a love song that's been lingering on my mind for the last couple of days. Valentine's day is just around the corner so I figured it would be nice to post this song and a couple other songs. I am not really a big Valentine's day fanatic, although I have my significant other now. I don't know...Valentines day is just too cheesy for me even then when my friends were receiving dozens of roses with chocolate and love letter to top it all. They say it's a day for lovers. Well, my lover and I have our own special day to celebrate, not this one. But going back to this special song, I believe this is the best love song I've ever heard in my whole life. It's a 60's song..it's called "Hold me, thrill me, kiss me" by Mel Carter. I've started to appreciate the songs of this era way back before. I think it was during my high school years but I was still in denial during that time. I felt like I had to go with the pop culture and go with the flow and whatever is new to be considered "in". Well I stopped caring as soon as I stepped into college...about the same time I stopped worrying about my looks and my champurado-flavored skin...about the same time my wonderful acne started coming out of the closet landing right on my face like a bull's eye. There's something about the 60's song..the ryhthm, the words, the way these artists portray these songs are just different from the way songs are made now. Nowadays music is all about the beat and curses. And they only talk about the same thing over and over again: bitches, alcohol, sex, drugs, partying, blah, blah, blah. There's this song that I just listened to very closely that talks about how this guy is so attracted to this girl because of her ass and boobs and how he is trying to complement her witout being disrespectful but he couldnt. So there you go. 2010 music. But this song is different. Mel Carter has yet to sing this to me in person, or I have yet to see him perform in person. I was researching about him last night and yes, thank God, at 66 years old he is still alive and kicking and performing! Isn't that great news? That means I still have a chance of seeing him as long as I believe. I love this videho of him because the expression on his face is just beyond words can ever describe. Now, won't you just love for him to serenade you with this song?

hold me, hold me, never let me go until you've told me, told me
what i want to know and then just hold me, hold me
make me tell you i'm in love with you
thrill me, thrill me
walk me down the lane where shadows will be, will be
hiding lovers just the same as we'll be, we'll be
when you make me tell you i love you
they told me be sensible with your new love
don't be fooled thinking this is the last you'll find
but they never stood in the dark with you love
when you take me in your arms and drive me slowly out of my mind
kiss me, kiss me,
and when you do i know that you will miss me, miss me,
if we ever day adieu so kiss me, kiss me
make me tell you i'm in love with you

it's one of those once in a lifetime loves...those that just simply come and go without you knowing until you realize the impact it has left your being. that love which is short-lived, fleeting but otherwise real. that love that you have yet to feel or maybe you have felt already one way or another but just hasn't accepted it yet because of the fact that it's already gone.

This next song is called "Take good care of my baby". This has a lot of versions but I like the Gary Lewis and the Playboys version. However, I couldn't find it online so I settled for the Bobby Vee version which is as close to Gary Lewis as I could get. I especially like this song because it reminds me of a classmate, a friend once, who sort of took away the guy that I (according to her) "supposedly" stole from her. Like I have a choice... the boy wasn't mine and was never mine to begin with. All I could do at that time was to step aside, back off and maybe let her know this:

Finally, this is our song. I don't know or remember how, but it just kind of happened. I guess it was like a mutual agreement...when he heard this song we both knew this was it. I knew he was the one then. I've always known. Thanks Edwin McCain. Need I say more? Happy Valentine's everyone.

conversations with a stranger

2010-01-12T13:48:00.000-08:00

I took my puppy Fiona to the dog park this morning after my husband left for work. I decided to drain her of her energy so I could tend to my errands without her whining every now and then because she wanted some attention. We had just moved in to our new place a while ack, and there are still a lot of fixings that need to be done. An elderly man approached me and asked if he could give my puppy a treat and I said sure. I guess his dog Cassie, a poodle didn't like the attention her owner was giving Fiona and decided to attack her. She was put in her place. Fiona got her treat and she was happy. Needless to say I got into a conversation with this old man, whose name was John. First about dogs and later on about life and marriage and stuff. Just regualr conversation but I admired him for some reason. The dog happened to be a service dog for him. He had some kind of heart surgery and the dog is suposed to alert him or something. He mentioned that today was his birthday. He just turned 70. He had been married for a while with his wife Joyce whom I met shortly after. She brought two other dogs, both were Siberian Huskies. John joked about how her wife still smelled like a new bride after all these years. I laughed heartily. I told him Ive only been married for a year and I have a long way to go. Oh yes I have a lot of catching up to do.
I guess what I'm trying to say is that I do admire their life, and the fact that they are still happily married after all these years. Nowadays mariage is just like a trend. Most people get married for the wrong reasons. I wonder will we ever still be that happy when the time comes? Would we still be together after 30 long years just like John and Joyce? I can only wish for my husband not to get tired of me and for me to be the same. After all, mariage is not about finding the right person. It is about working with the person you choose to be committed to. And I choose him. They say marriage is a risk. But everything you do in life is a risk. If you are not willing to take a risk, then you are not willing to live at all. Nevertheless, as indepedent as I am, I couldn't imagine my life without him. Some people who do not know me that well look at me and doubt my love for him. They doubt my capability to stay committed. They've doubted me from the first day we decided to be a couple. But look where we are at right now.
My husband and I endured a lot of separations in the past. However our love for each other prevails. I intend to keep it that way. Today. Tomorrow..and the years to come.

Paglamig ng Hangin

2009-12-18T15:58:00.000-08:00

Paglamig ng hangin
hatid ng pasko
nananariwa sa 'king gunita
ang mga nagdaan nating Pasko
ang Noche Buena't simbang gabi

Narito na ang Pasko
at nangungulilang puso ko
hanap-hanap, pinapangarap
init ng pagsasalong tigib sa tuwa
ng mag-anak na nagdiwang
sa sabsaban nung unang Pasko

Sa pag-awit muli ng himig Pasko
nagliliyab sa paghahangad
makapiling kayo sa gabi ng pasko
sa alaala'y magkasama tayo.

I remember this song well especially during this time of the year, when Catholic churches in the Philippines celebrate nine dawn masses or simbang gabi, as Filipinos call it, nine days before Christmas. Every year it starts on the 16th of December and ends the day before Christmas. We don't have it here in the US...
I remember this song because it reminds me of my choir days...no I didn't sing (most of the time). I played the piano in our church instead. I played this song everyday for nine days during the communion part of the mass and it had never gotten old to me, not even now. It is said that if you complete those nine dawn masses you can make a wish and it will come true. I did make a wish once as I have mentioned in my previous entries...and it did come true. Was it just a coincidence, or was it truly meant for me? I say it was meant to happen because I believed and worked hard for it. Therefore we should always believe that anything can happen no matter how impossible it may seem for us.
What I'd give to hear this song again...to feel the breath of fresh hanging amihan brushing through my cheeks as I walk to church with my friends wearing sweater, jeans, and sandals on a cool morning (trying hard not to scare each other about getting murdered by some tricycle driver maniac) and then we all do our own little count down: it's seven days before Christmas.

My Christmas/Birthday Wishlist

2009-12-03T15:49:00.000-08:00

My twenty-freakin-seventh birthday is also just around the corner so I decided to create a wishlist. Hopefully some nice, very generous spirit come across this page and maybe grant my wishes..

1. Kindle/Nook bookreader (so I dont have to worry where to store my hundreds of books)
2. Clarisonic (for my acne-friendly face)
3. Beagle/ Jack Russell Terrier (male)
4. Home accents/fragrance (for our new apartment)

I couldn't think of anything else. I guess I have a very satisfying life. I appreciate gifts that are useful. I really don't like receiving clothes/shoes as gifts as most often they do not fit me (I don't know why most people think I wear clothes that are bigger than my size or maybe they just couldn't find my size, or better yet, they expect me to gain the appropriate pounds for me to wear those clothes without looking like a clotheshanger) or the colors/style do not appeal to me. I like to keep it simple and elegant. Too much color and accessories just end up looking like clutter on my already petite body. Most of the clothes I get end up in a donation bin in a couple of months which is a waste. Lotions and perfumes would be a better bet, because even if i don't like the fragrance, I would still use it occassionally. And lotions, lots of lotions I do appreciate! My already dry, dehydrated skin have episodes of psoriasis during winter.
So that's it for now. If I come up with something else, I surely would update my list.

sino ka man

2009-12-02T18:46:00.000-08:00

Huwag mo akong husgahan sa mga sinusulat ko. Hindi ako masamang tao..ito lang ang mga napagmuni-munihan ko sa buhay ko dito sa mundo. Hindi ko kailangang ipaliwanag ang sarili ko kahit kanino pero kung gusto mo ng mas maliwanag na interpretasyon sabihin mo lang. Huwag mong sirain ang buhay ko at ang tiwala ng mga mahal ko sa buhay sa akin.

Christmas in America

2009-12-01T19:23:00.000-08:00

Since 2003, I've missed 5 Christmases in the Philippines already. Four of them was spent here in the U.S. and one was spent in Okinawa. As I listen to Sleigh Ride by the Carpenters, it somehow gives me a nostalgic feeling. These are the Christmas songs I grew up listening to, although I didn't really care much for this song back in the days. It's not like I have a choice either. My father owns the house and therefore decides on what music to listen to or not. We're not even allowed to touch his stereo component system back then which explains my ignorance in technology. But going back to Christmas, is it just me or does every person get that longing feeling of going back to his childhood days especially during this time of the year? I know every Christmas or New Year is different from the other. But it seems to me that the only Christmas lingering in my mind for a long time are those spent with family and friends back in my country. I cannot say that my life here is better than the life I left in the Philippines. It has its pros and cons. A major advantage is that I can afford most things I can only dream of or probably would still be dreaming of if I have stayed in the country. A disadvantage is that it's just you and your family here. And if your family has too much drama going on, good luck! I am not generalizing how all the immigrants feel. Here in the U.S., it is hard to find GOOD friends who you can actually connect with and not have to pretend to be someone else. I only need a few mind you. But even those few are rare. It is not like I'm friends with all the Filipinos in the Philippines either. Christmas in the Philippines is warmer...I like the "at-home" feeling. It's funny how you disregard all these simple things until you realize you can't go back. Then you long to go back just to savor the feeling once again.
And so my simbang gabi days are over where I used to make a wish as I vow to complete those nine dawn masses. It is said that if you finish those nine very early morning masses before Christmas your wish will come true. When I was a sophomore in high school I completed them and a miracle happened. No, I didnt have any manliligaws appear on my doorstep although I would have considered it a miracle back then. I did not wish for that. I wished for something else and it did come true...nine years later.
I would never dream of a White Christmas. I would rather be truly home for Christmas one of these days.

ang mga napagmuni-munihan ko these past few days

2009-10-22T21:03:00.000-07:00

If there is one thing I hate the most, it's the narcissistic people. We live in a blogging era, wherein we can easily flaunt our assets as well as our flaws to the whole damn world, made possible by 2,000 plus and counting networking sites for all types of people. I am one of those people hooked on the net. I don't even remember what my life was like before the internet and even before when we didnt have a phone back then. But going back to those self-absorbed people...if you have one of those networking accounts like facebook or friendster or myspace, have you ever checked out a friend's profile and it just seemed to you that all you see is bragging and some more bragging? although there is really nothing to brag about. Some people would do it in a subtle way but I do notice. Especially the ones who are out of the country. I don't care if you are in Haiti or Tahiti Islands somewhere. all of a sudden they just seem....different. they talk different. they act different. but the worse thing i've ever seen is this person who is so narcissistic she has to published twenty-something photos of her doing almost the same thing in the camera. I am not hating mind you. In fact I love her so much. But creating an album called: "me, myself and the camera" is just too much. Girlfriend, I dont want to see too much of you wearing the same damn thing, in the same background, using your webcam, that it seemed to me that's all you did for the last 8 hours no wonder you managed to upload those pictures (you prolly took 100+ pictures in one sitting). Yun lang.
There is another pet peeve that's been bothering me for the last couple of years eversince it emerged. The use of "po" and "opo" especially for those highschool and college sweethearts who have nothing else better to do. Now this is so damn cheesy. My sister used to do it, some of my friends do it, everyone does it especially in PI where texting is a phenomenon. "Dito na po me..", "Miss no po kita,", "Mahal na mahal po kita", "Ingat ka po", "Nasan na po kayo?", "Ingat po kayo lagi" and the list goes on and on. I know you guys respect each other a lot but using po when you are of the same age is overrated and it is demeaning the real purpose and essence of the word. I am not old. And I dont remember anyone messaging me with those words. I like to keep it that way, because the moment someone older than me leaves me a message with "po" or "opo" I will make sure to correct his ass. All these years I've never used those words unless I'm talking to my grandmother or someone at least 10 years older than me.
Change topic...Nursing school. So near yet so far. To be honest I dont even know if I want this. But who knows, maybe my persistence to get in the program may make me want to love it someday. All I know is that I've always wanted to pursue something..in the medical field. Maybe this is it. I hope this is it.
I'm glad that my husband got his orders finally. Next month he'll be checking in at the Naval Hospital in Balboa. We are looking for a new apartment because we are planning to get a dog. I've always wanted a dog. I miss the company of my askals back in the Philippines. My iguana doesn't really comfort me that much. For one, he is ungrateful and always seem to run away from me and always scratching my hands and whipping its tail at me.
Highschool reunion. I can already smell the people who gained too much weight in the past 10 years. I am realy hoping and praying that I'd be able to go. Lord please help me buy a plane ticket so that once again I'll be entertained by those egotistical people who still live in their own little highschool world bcause that's the only place they are able to rule.

random, scattered what??? (panu na nga ba magsulat?)

2009-10-17T18:57:00.000-07:00

I was just thinking. How do you let go of a friend? I mean, you have a friend...sort of. And this friend of yours happened to do you wrong (of course all the doing happens in your mind so you're not sure if it's intentional) twice, maybe three times in a row. So what do you do? A normal person would likely walk away at the instance. But who is normal, anyway? What constitutes a normal person? See, I like to do things over and over again whether it burns me or not just for the hell of it. Of course I beat myself up after I get burned just to do it again. Not right now though. Because I'm not really acting my normal self. I'm burned and I am trying to heal. So. I walked away. sort of.

couldn't write a thing

2009-09-09T19:40:00.000-07:00

i've been procrastinating. i'm running out of inspirations to write about. my civilian days are becoming more and more monotonous each day, although i try to change them from time to time. i feel like being transported back to navy life, where every day you are subjected to constant to-do-list that goes on and on, only this time i have to beat myself up to do it and there's no one behind my back aggravating me. i love the fact that i own my time. sometimes though there's so much time in my hands. but that's only because i choose not to do anything like write papers.
i have 2 papers left to write and i'm really pushing it. i can smell that piece of parchment paper now. it's been 10 years since i first entered college and when the rest of my friends finally have PhD's and MD's (Marge) and BA (geng) and all those luminous title beside their very names, I am just barely making it.
i have plans. i'm not just gonna sit here and become a bomb collecting unemployment for the rest of my life. but i'm on a break. everything happened so fast; from being an ordinary girl living in the outskirts of Manila to six mad years in the military. i didnt know how different the world is outside my comfort zone. now i'm catching up. what the hell happened to me all this time?
but i've learned a lot...slowly but surely. too bad i never came here when i was younger. but who cares? like i said, the trauma, the pain and excitement of being somewhere new is much more vivd and incomparable regardless.

love your body

2009-09-01T08:12:00.000-07:00

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recollections of a FOB pt 1

2009-08-17T06:41:00.000-07:00

everyone who comes to the u.s. anytime after they were born go through this phase. children, whether they are aware of it or not, are no exceptions. but the memories are more vivid, traumatizing and interesting for grown-ups. Grown-ups like me who spent three quarters of her life in the portals of a semi-provincial, semi-"urbanish" existence. My cousin who is currently in Bahrain once told me: "Here in Bahrian, if you are new, you are nothing." Well, there's not much of a difference between us, is there? And where did that term "Fresh off the boat" or "Filipinos on vacation" come from except from Filipinos themselves? Sabi nga nila, is ka lang kulangot dito (you are just a booger here). I was one of those mini-boogers who came here and had no idea what was about to unfold right before my eyes. I'm not saying that I know everything now. I just think it's funny that this only happens with Pinoys...you know being called a FOB and everything. White people, black people, Latinos and the like do not care less whether you just got here an hour ago. It is also amusing how some pure-bred Filipino kids (some, not all) who were raced in a Filipino "haven" in the U.S. do not want to associate themselves with our kind of people. Except, of course when you're in the Navy of which you don't have much of a choice. I've been called a FOB several times. I don't know, maybe it's the aura I exude. Not surprised. I was a "promdi" in college anyway. It just takes a lot of getting used to.
But my FOB-ness started even before I got to the U.S. It happened when we got denied at the immigration in NAIA. You should have seen our faces at that time. They were priceless. My mom was passing out gas the whole time we were talking to the immigration officer (She has a tendency to do that when she gets nervous). You can tell too, that we're first timers since each of us are carrying poster-size x-ray films. I bet that immigration officer we're having a good time sabotaging our flights. We got denied because of some stupid paperwork that we didn't have at that time. She could have let us go, but she probably felt better sending one, happy, bouncing family back to where they come from. My tito kindly offered his house to us for the meantime. You know how it is in the Philippines when you are leaving the country and the whole village knows about it? I guess he thought we couldn't bear the shame of coming back after the farewell parties have ended and goodbyes have been said. But we did come back..to the astonishment of our neighbors. Their faces too, were priceless as soon as they saw a paintless "tamaraw" pulled up in front of our house and out came us, with ten other luggages. One day, our friend's little sister told her, "Nakita ko sina Ate Lara at Ate Wella kanina (I saw Ate Lara and Ate Wella a while ago)." My friend was shocked. "Ha? Di ba nasa Amerika na yun? (Ha? Aren't they in the U.S. now)" Little sister: "Hindi, nakita ko sila kanina bumili ng tinapay (No, I saw them a while ago, they bought some bread)". Our friend called us right away and she got the geist. We were gonna call her by the way but I guess she did beforehand. Our relatives started calling us asking if we are ok. We were ok. It's not that big of a deal. The only thing my folks were worried about was the ridiculous amount of money they loaned to buy the plane tickets. But of course that, too was resolve. Three days later we were on our way to America.

disturbed

2009-08-08T21:49:00.001-07:00

Eversince the news of my friend's death reached me, I couldn't sleep for several nights now. I keep waking up after maybe dozing off for about an hour or so; but I would suddenly open my eyes and feel my heart throbbing fast, thinking that my time too one day, will come. I'm sure I am not the only one who have thought about their death, or maybe what it is like to die. Of course we'll never know. Once a person gets there, then maybe he knows how it feels but unfortuntely will have no way of imparting to the rest of the living world what it's like out there. Am I simply overreacting? When I was young I used to think that I was invincible. Yes, there were probably times before when I have asked for it but deep inside I knew that it can never overcome me. death cannot touch me. I have heard of people dying. I have been to funerals and wakes. I even had a patient that died...or was close to dying (I mean "brain-dead") at the time I was taking care of him. But I guess you will never know how vulnerable and transient you are until someone close to you have made that so-called "transition". And I guess that's the way I feel right now. I feel helpless because of the fact that I am not immortal. That sooner or later I will find myself grieving for my own death before it even happens..that is, if I ever get the chance. My friend's death made me realize that people like me, like her, will have to go through it one way or another.
and so I wrapped my arms around my husband who was dreaming peacefully at the time. made him promise while he was sleeping that we will grow old together no matter what. I know it's not for sure. Nothing, not even that moment is permanent. But somehow that is my only proof of existence. That was my reality because as of now, I'm not ready yet...

Dear Maolin

2009-07-24T10:16:00.000-07:00

We first met in 4th grade. You were a new student back then. I still remember my first reaction towards you.."finally, someone shorter than me!" Well, I was glad I didn't have to always stand in front of the line from then on. To be honest you were an ordinary person..not one of those who would initially spark an air of interest to another ordinary person like me. But we became friends in highschool. You were a friend to everyone I suppose. I remember you were the only person who would stick up for Mafhel when the rest of the world (us) sort of isolated her for stupid, immature reasons. But she confided in you, accompanying her after class, making sure she's not alone on her way home. We used to go hiking with our friends Geng, Blessie and Jang. Weren't you there on Geng's 18th birthday when we all got drunk with tequila? You were a witness to everyone else who started puking and acting crazy. In college we lost touch. I heard you became a rebel of some sort...fighting for principles I would never understand...trudging your way into the mountains..but later on realized that it is time to come home and live a normal life. Everytime I would go back to the Philippines I will always ask about you. You never heard from me and I never heard from you. Regardless, you were still my friend. and you will always be. Wherever you are right now, I know you are at peace unlike me and the rest of the world who have to deal with the monsters and greed of this Earth life. Thank you for your life, and for giving me the blessing of your friendship. I will see you in time..but not yet.

Maolin Bustamante is my high school friend who passed away a couple days ago after giving birth.

my high school secret admirer

2009-07-22T08:48:00.000-07:00

you might be surprised. even i never thought i'd have one back in my skinny dark-skinned dermatitis infested days. i just remembered when i received an email from my friend, geng, whose blog i'm an avid follower of. It is about a high school reunion set to take place, of course, in the Philippines approximately December 30, 2009-ish. I am not sure if I should go. I don't have enough reasons to go and yet, I can't find enough alibi not to show up. I'm kind of in between. i definitely have no interest in finding out the present conditions of a good 75% of our batch. i despise the thought of rubbing into each other's faces what each of us has become, as you know some people never change. Part of me do not want to get caught being confined again in a ludicrous status or level of some kind as opposed to the person beside you for reasons as shallow as physical attributions. Yes. Mater Carmeli School is just like any other highschool on Earth. Dispute me if i'm wrong but the people goes by the quiet but undeniable obvious principle that beauty is power. money is power. ergo, beauty is money. money is beauty. beauty begets money and vice versa. one goes hand in hand with each other. however, at some point, one can still exist without the other. For the rest of the world who unfortunately were not blessed with such traits, good luck on making your existence known. I was one of those you have to keep wishing well because as thankful as I am, my parents bestowed me a unique kind of beauty. Not the one that would catch a karpintero's or konduktor's eyes at every single construction site you walk by. My thighs were not made to radiate such fluorescent brightness. Their more geared towards the "sunset" shade of light...you have to catch it! People say they like the sunset but only few actually sit down and take time to watch or even look for it. My beauty is not the one you will find in the cover of a local Filipino magazine endorsing chin chin sei. My face knows no trends nor boundaries. It is acne season if it wants to, whether provoked or not. But my highschool secret admirer did not just admire me for my appearance and its cyclic transformations. He (or she) believed I have substance. For a fifteen-year-old girl who spent most of her school life as a pariah, this is like winning the lottery. YES!!! Thank you Lord, someone knows I exist. But anyway, going back about eleven years ago, this is when it all started. In values class one afternoon, Sr. Emy was filling in for Teacher Beth. She told as to get 3 pieces of 1/4 sheet of writing paper. In each paper we would write to a person (so we have to pick 3 different persons to write to) and complete the sentence: Dear name, Mahal Kita kasi (I love you because)...Three days later she has our letters. I wasn't really expecting any for me so I was surprised when I was one of the first ones she called. I realized I actually have quite a few...around seven. I browsed through the papers thinking how sweet my friends were. Then out of nowhere came this letter:

TO: ROWELLA LILES,
Hi! Quite surprised? Anyway, mahal kita kasi I really admire you for your Simplicity and your Beauty. And your brains.
-B.
I never knew who he was. I never found out who that latter came from. It didn't seem like a prank to me. The letter was neatly written. No erasures whatsoever. It was real, and it made my day. Actually, it made every day that I spent in that school. And I still have it somewhere in my room back home.

Maybe I will find out who he or she is. Maybe that person would be proud of who and what have become of me, and realize that sort of admiration he bequeathed me never went to waste. Whatever that letter's intention was, I admit that at the back of my mind he is one of those people I would really love to sit down with and just maybe splatter all my experiences and everything in the open. maybe someday he'd read this. i wonder would that person still be interested in finding out? in listening? in reading all my rantings and ravings in life? of course, he will be. he should be. he was my high school secret admirer after all...

How to not procrastinate

2009-07-06T22:44:00.001-07:00

I have no idea.

hefty foam plate in the background

2009-07-06T11:09:00.000-07:00

nocturne...

the teacher...

New me or new name?

2009-06-24T16:56:00.000-07:00

How do you get used to your new name? It feels like being a different person now. Knowing it's still me, that I'm just having a new role doesn't really comfort me that much. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy that I'm married now and I knew at one point that someday I'm bound to change my name. I thought about it so many times, including those when I was enduring my so-called outcast reputation due to a smelly underarm disposition in school. The point is, whether people thought highly of me or considered me a "timawa" or a "low-class citizen with mediocre appearance", or an "untouchable", as they would describe the pile of social outcasts in India, I know that there's someone way outside my comfort zone, on the other side of the planet who will take my hand and marry me and grow old with me, dermatitis and all.
Now, everything about me is new. I feel like I'm starting all over again, trying to get to know the wife that's deeply embedded in me. The old name is gone, the name that stood by me for 26 years, highlighting my ups and downs. It was that name that accompanied me inside the assistant dean's office of the UST College of Science, begging for her to take me back in their highly overrated, overemphasized, overpriced Celebrity Catholic University of the Philippines full of elitists, both natural-born and wannabees at the same time. That name helped me trudge my way through the streets of Manila; Recto and the University Belt to name, whether I was out walking on leisure (which seldom happens), flooded or not, buying pirated cd's, or just plainly smoking Marlboro lights (Winston if I'm broke) and drinking gin and pineapple juice with my friends in between classes (I love my "kolehiyala" days). That name stood by me on a lot of my first days, including but are not limited to my first day alone in my new school two months after getting kicked out of UST, the first day I saw my first love driving that conceited, red, set-up car, the day I got acquainted with the Internet, seeing what the fuss was all about, and the day I officially became a FOB in the U.S.A. Six years later I married a guy who never cared about my inherent Filipino accent and highly pigmented skin.
So this is me now...Rowella Zina. Wife of Michael Zina, the luckiest guy in the world according to me, of course. The man of my dreams. It does take a lot of getting used to, but it feels so damn good to know that you belong to someone, and you can say that this person is truly, officially yours. And whoever tries to get in between us will regret the day she was born (yup, just like that). And this is why I'm willing to give up my old name...for something real like this. You don't see a man get you very often. I knew from the start that someday, someone will be able to see through my facade. People say marriage is not for everyone. That is definitely true; however, in my case marriage is written in my hands. And so is name-change. But one thing is for sure: I'm still me, my own angel. My own right.

ouch

2009-06-15T11:36:00.000-07:00

My stomach's been hurting lately. It's been hurting for almost 24 hours nonstop now. I am not sure what it is. It starts as a tightening feeling under my ribcage that progressively radiates towards my lower back, my whole reproductive system, my appendix, stones, sometimes even my neck. I can't laugh. I can't breathe deeply. I can't even sneeze. Thankfully it hasn't spread to my extremities for then I would think that i have aortic aneurysm, one of those uncommon life threatening diseases which I don't think I'm at risk for. I'm a clean-living person who recently vowed to eat organic foods if i can afford it. My husband told me to get seen if i don't get better, along with my rashes. I don't know why I am so prone to skin disease. When I was young, I had skin asthma on my thighs and right above my crack. When I was in college I have acute dermatitis on my face which looked like little zits that happen to grow in troops on my face. "Tropa-tropa kung tumubo", according to my family and friends. First on my chin, then at the corners of my mouth and finally on my cheeks. It got so worse that my Physics professor told me, "You need to go see a doctor for your face. It is not just pimples." My college crush used to ask me, "BAkit ganyan ang legs mo? Ang daming bakokang?" (Why do your legs look like that? There's too many keloids) My mom used to tell me, "Tingnan mo nga 'yang mukha mo o! Tingnan mo, tingnan mo. Tumingin ka sa salamin. Hindi mo kasi inaalagaan nang maayos eh. Di mo kasi nililinis eh..di ka kasi marunong maghilamos. Dapat ganito...ganyan..." (Look at your face! Look, look. Look at the mirror. Because you don't take care of your face. You don't clean it. You don't know how to wash your face right. You should do this...do that...). Well sorry for not having a perfectly smooth, youthful, white skin. My skin asthma came back on my twenties for a while. Then I have the occassional skin allergy attacks. Then a cyst...
I'm reading a book called "Through time in healing" by Brian Weiss. It makes me realize that there are other things in this world worth believing that you can't completely ignore. For example, do you believe in past life? Do you believe that you may have been born 89 times and that your "soul" has an ultimate purpose and goal that he needs to achieve and that is why you are reborn over and over again? Do you believe that there are many forms of life in this cosmic universe and this life that everyone tries to embrace is just one form, called "earth-life"? Unfortunately, I am not hte type of person who bases her belief on one book. i grew up Catholic, and there are so many books I've read in school and growing up and I have so many things yet to learn to be able to grasp Catholicism. It takes a lifetime I know. My husband thinks I know a lot when it comes to religion but in reality I just know them because I actually paid attention in Christian Living classes in grade school and high school for the sake of knowing what to write when the exams come. That's it.
I hope my stomach stops hurting. I want to go to ballroom class today because I paid for it. Not having a partner sucks. I end up dancing with a bunch of cigarette-smelling forty-year-olds that I'd have to drag across the dance floor most of the time or they'll end up stepping on my shoes. My husband said he would come home today so i will have a partner and I'm like please do. He'll give me something good to look at. The only reason why I still go there is because I had to pay for it in day one. Also, I actually learn basic ballroom that hopefully I would be able to apply in real life.
Bahamas trip is still hanging on air. It is not like we can't afford it, it's just that once we do, we'll end up broke. My husband is not really particular with money. He prefers experience over money. Well, for someone who does not have to worry about money all his life, as opposed to someone who has to choose between lunch or transportation back home or making photocopies for papers unless you can handle a 3.0 parent reaction, I understand. I don't have a job right now (I love it!!!) but I'm just taking my time. When Bahrain comes I'm pretty sure I will have a job. I better get a job. I'm not gonna sit at home and watch tv all day. That's not just me.

mga utol

2009-06-09T19:02:00.000-07:00

Wella's first time in Mcdonalds LA

2009-06-07T19:54:00.001-07:00

I still remember that day, April something 2003. Freshly emerging from the provincial Filipino lifesyle (I do not consider myself a Manila girl, I'm too dark and burnt for that), with a heavy tongue and little English at hand, my brother and I trudged our way into the golden arch. At that time we were starving since we just came from the gym, Bally to be specific, supposedly to work out and gain some muscles so two weeks from then I would have achieved the minimum weight required to join boot camp: 90 lbs. I was barely 83 lbs, that is, when I'm full. Most of the time, I weigh 81 lbs. Don't pity me though; don't say "aaaaawwwww" for heaven's sake. I am a perfectly healthy creature. As much as I am not gifted with height, I am also "obesity-challenged". I ended up chilling in the sauna and pool section instead.

Now at that time when I think of MickeyDs the first thing that comes to my mind is fried chicken and steam rice. Don't blame me. Every American fastfood in the Philippines has fried chicken and rice value meal. It is the equivalent of burger and fries here, I realize. I'm guessing you already know what happened. I was looking for the fried chicken and gravy but there's none. Instead, they have chicken strips in barbecue sauce. So I ordered one. My brother wanted rice as much as I did and convinced me to order it since he is too shy to speak English, considering that we've only been on US soil for 3 days.

Mcdonalds lady: What would you like for today?

Wella: Uuhhh, ken I hav chicken?

Lady: What kind of chiken?

Wella: Aaaahh..chicken sttrriips.

Vernon (brother): (whispering) hingi ka ng bbq sauce!!! (ask for bbq sauce)

Wella: Also can you put bbq sauce on it?

Lady: Ok..is that it?

Wella: Uumhh..do you have rice?

Mcdonalds lady was very shocked and about to burst out laughing. Instead, she said sarcastically..

Lady: This is not Chinese food.

I tried to reason with the Mcdonalds lady.

Wella: Oh, really? But in the Philippines and everywhere in Asia we have rice in Mcdonalds!

MckeyD lady just smiled, showing all her teeth as if to say yeah ok, but this is the US, honey.

Si Tita Lala o si Batik?

2009-04-22T19:42:00.000-07:00

This video was taken on my sister's 21st (according to her) birthday...

This is Batik. Hehehe

Me, the Burlesque Queen

2009-04-20T13:36:00.000-07:00

I am not a good dancer...charing!! The truth is, I used to be a dancer during my college days in UST. I don't dance like Cheryl Burke, but without training, for my age, at that time, probably around 9 years ago, I believe I was pretty decent. Most people think that's the reason I failed out of class. Well, I usually just let them form their own opinions. Last Thursday I was on You Tube. I was watching Cheryl burke and Drew Lachey do their raunchy rhumba to the song, Total Eclipse of the Heart. That song by the way reminds me so much about my 2008 deployment days. Sasha and I used to sing our hearts out during karaoke session which happens every night. So, I was watching them and suddenly I just felt this urge inside me to do the "total eclipse". I found myself suddenly wanting to revive the feeling I had that day I walked in one of the "educ" rooms in UST to audition as a cheer dancer, for College of Science of course. I've always thought of taking dance classes just for recreational purposes but never got to doing it because of my busy schedule and my broke ass. Now that I am almost out of the military that took out 98% of my time and energy, I figured it won't hurt to try. So off I went to this dance studio right around the block. I have always driven by it but was too shy to register for any class, except for that day when my desire to rhumba was practically bursting out of my kidneys. I went in there and as usual, for the first 2 minutes of the conversation the receptionist would think that I am somebody else's child lost in the city of El Cajon...until I told them specifically, "no,no,no,no, no. ADULT BALLROOM DANCE CLASSES FOR ME AND MY HUSBAND." Unfortunately they are still trying to get more people to sign up for the class so they don't have it. But I'm not about to give up. I wanted to dance at that time no questions asked. I looked at the schedule and there it was beaming at me: Caburlesque, 45 minutes from now. I drove home, changed and drove back to the studio. When I walked in the room they already started some of their routines. I took off my shoes and shook my hips like there's no tomorrow. That routine will eventually turn me into some sort of a prostitute back in the 60's hating life as it is while seducing the BIG SPENDER (song). I love it.
Now, I have a brand new passion. Caburlesque. And I am the Queen. I pay $10 a week for one class so I better get that title, and it better be worth it! When I was a child in the Philippines "Burlesque Queen" was actually the name of an explicit movie. Some might deem it as promiscuous but oh well, I let people form their own opinions.
Maybe one of these days I'll show you my classy burlesque moves. :-)

Monday moments

2009-03-24T18:50:00.000-07:00

I was 18, in college and in love. This so-called love paid me PhP 675 and got my name out in the Young Blood section of the Philippine Daily Inquirer on May 22, 2001. The same love also got me kicked out of school for failing 4 classes, 13 units all in all. Finally, 'twas that love (my very first love) which taught me to get up, get over him and move on with my life. No doubts nor regrets. Now the perks of being a kolehiyala in love...

You squint in the light that messed up the darkness of your room. You sit up, eyes still partly closed as you glance at your logbook and manual left open on your bed and your calculator lying on the floor. You didn't sleep much last night, if only you could just lie down and sleep all day without the fear of missing the lab practical this afternoon. But you have to get up because it's a routine and it's Monday morning. You don't want to be late for Philosophy because one more "late-ness" means one more absence. And one more absence means you're already FA. You get a towel as you hurry drowsily down the stairs to take a bath. The ritual would usually take you 45 minutes, 30 minutes at least to get your dad pissed off. Well, you wouldn't know it until he knocks at your door telling you to get out when you're at the middle of shampooing your hair. Anyway, it would only take you about 3 minutes to dress up, one minute to fix your things and a couple minutes more to eat your breakfast and you're off.

You arrive in school the usual time, if not late, too early in the morning, and since the guards won't let you in unless it's 6:30, you have to stay somewhere else. In your case you'd rather stay in the covered walk and watch people as they, too, go on with their ways. Sometimes you'd wait for that cute guy from pay High or that so-called commercial model airhead from the College of Commerce to pass by. It gives you much pleasure to see them every morning though in reality they don't actually know you exist. A few minutes later you'll hear that familiar sound and without looking you'll realize that it's your so-called classmate (if it's all he means to you), and his conceited red set-up car disquieting the peaceful street. You pretend not to see him by doing something else or looking somewhere else but your peripheral vision tells you that he too, didn't get enough sleep last night. And you watch him, the careless indifferent way he drives, that sluggish look and sleepy eyes...and oh that car you have always longed to ride with him. That same guy who has always been the object of your affection, who makes you look forward to the afternoons when you're supposed to go home together (though that idea now seemed unthinkable), that same guy you have loved inside ever since you entered college, from the minute you saw him at the covered walk until this moment. But all those longings for him would suddenly flash into plain anger when you remember again the way he made you feel like a princess sometime ago then ditched you just because you thought so and he said he didn't want you anymore. Then you realize it's still him and his so-called girl. And you? You're just an electron that circled around his orbit once but took off because of some electron that was, in fact far more electronegative and could attract him better than you. Anyway, you saw classmate Jeff walking towards you and you smile, thank God you're not alone this morning. You ask him if he has the homework in Math and he gladly lets you copy it number for number.

Then you go up, the first one inside the classroom as you wait for the others to arrive.

Not long after, he too enters the classroom and you pretend not to see him or least bit notice him even though in reality you've been anticipating his coming. Then she arrives, and those two are enough to make your day turn from bad to worse, seeing them in front of you.

Philosophy class makes you want to continue your interrupted sleep. Is is you or does this subject finally begin to irritate you? Maybe you're simply not a logical thinker and you find Philosophy either boring or too hard. Math time came and the result of your first quiz in the finals was given. You don't want to look at your paper but you have to. Expectedly, the result says: 14 out of 40. Great. Now you're in tune with numbers more than anything else. This clearly states the truth that math and you can never go together. Fine there's still that Physics which always surprises you with unsurprising quizzes. In a way, you're glad you're coping (or so you thought).

At 12 you hurry upstairs to prepare for the scheduled practical exam dealing with titration whatever with this reagent so and so (Titration is a kind of chemical word that you encounter almost everyday of your life, it might as well be part of your personal dictionary). You don't have time to eat although you manage a bag of chips and a bottle of water. It's all you need to get your mind going the next three hours.

As 1:15, the practical exam would start. First batch in, second batch out. Everybody would cram as the instructor would count from one to 10, and you're out of the lab. Outside, you wait and read and wait, not to mention those few stolen glances, hidden glimpses and the like. Of course it's part of the wait. Inside, he's just a few feet away from you titrating and you don't know whether to focus on him or on on the flasks and reagent bottles and burettes lined in front of you that before you knew it you have already overstepped titration and don't know where to start computing again. When everyone has passed their logbooks and technical reports you'd rush to the sink and wash the glasswares because Gem is waiting for you outside. A few hours ago she texted you and said that you'd go home together. She actually hates people who move slowly so you really got to bear with her or else she'll leave you.

As you crossed the street to Benavides his car stopped in front of you. One look and you continue your walk as if he didn't exist ans he went on driving as if he didn't know you. As if you didn't go home together some time ago. As if nothing really significant happened between the two of you. As if you never fell for him. As if he didn't matter to you. As if it's easy to catch an FX in Espana. If you live in Cubao it's ok. But Fairview? An hour or two will do. As you cross Espana, you realize it's only Monday and you still have a long week to go. You have four whole days left with the inescapable fact that you'll be seeing him, her, the two of them together and, of course, the pain that comes with it, at the same time studying, struggling to survive as you find your way home alone (except now), whether it's raining or not, whether it's seven in the evening or three in the afternoon. Sometimes though, you miss him. You do miss him like crazy if only he knew. You don't know why, you don't know how. All you could figure out is that you have fallen big time for this egotistical, bigheaded yet sweet and gentle guy that charmed you completely and made you totally insane no questions asked. Perhaps he's the only guy who has successfully melted your cold facade before you even knew it. Or maybe it's in the way his eyes stirred the very depths of your being, but you alone felt it. Whatever it is, you know he has won you ever as behind that indifference, under the coldness, between blank faces and meaningless looks, you're in love (if that's what you think it is) and loving him perfectly in silence. Oh what a day! As you board the FX you congratulate yourself...at least you made it through with or without him. That means you'll make it from end to end. Meanwhile you beam as you ponder: what kind of moments will Tuesday bring?

----------------------------------------

Weng, 18, is a (B.S. Chemistry) student of the University of Sto. Tomas.

heaven

2009-03-19T20:18:00.003-07:00

It was in the way your eyes stirred my heart
That made me realize what heaven was
It was in the way your hand rested on that table
That made my palms twist instantly
It was in the way your glass fell into tiny pieces
And my daydreams crumbled down like sand castles
That I became acquainted with heaven . . .

Rotten

2009-03-19T20:14:00.000-07:00

She sits at the porch with serenity
Eternity sems to embrace her as
She waits, and waits for a time like forever
Placid in thought...

And the gentle shadow that would touch her face
Show signs that he's here; oh goodness grace!
Anticipating a presence that would never come
No doubts nor regrets, she just longingly waits

What madness could bring back
A love that's rotten?
Of what use is her heart unaltered
If her soul is forgotten?

In vulnerable solitude she'd close her eyes
Foreseeing that ever comely day
But years won't make her sane again
Till the seasons softly walk away.

Rhapsody

2009-03-19T20:12:00.001-07:00

Tonight I close the line between the moon and me
Remembering the distance between us
The serenades should be the last ones I hear
For I've fallen fast to miss a tear
I look up and all I see is sky
As black as the tricks it played on me
But no! Must this silly heart end in misery
When a fool returns and fail to die?
But I've wept so as to find my way
For reasons I'm too unmindful
Remembering how I've thrown myself
Just to touch you with my finger's tip
Now the moon is dimmed, the doors are closed
As concluded by this night
And not a word your soul shall hear
Sweet dreams... my dear.

One of my first blogs in 2006..angst and everything

2009-03-19T20:02:00.000-07:00

the story of a highschool princess

the main character is plainly fictional..but if somehow you feel offended, oh well.
Let’s see.You were a cute little girl; pampered by your folks for being an only child. You have light skin, therefore you are very pretty in the eyes of cute little bastard boys. In school, most girls want to be friends with you if not envy you. You weren’t smart at all. In fact, you were one of the dumbest in class, although you get away with it. Because, like I say, you are very pretty. You went to a Catholic school since kindergarten and in highschool, you dyed a handful strand of your hair pink-and got away with it. Catholic nuns said something but of course will not reprimand your beautiful ass. On Valentine’s day, you get at least 5 dozens of roses from popular, immature boys. Of course you live in a 10-ft square home; one step will take you to the dining area, one step to your bedroom, one step to the bathroom and one step at last to the living room. But that did not hinder you from smuggling more money from your folks, flaunting your sauciness to equal those naturally rich and talented boys and girls. Yes, these dreamboys would line up to slow dance with you in prom. You never spent five minutes alone in your seat. There was never a rumor of your armpit stinking. You never walked in class in the morning to find two creatures kick the hell out of your chair. The class clown never, not even once told you, "…ang panget mo!!!" (with that gross look on his face). They never insulted you by singing "..kayganda ng Pilipina, ito ay atin, sariling atin" or "Pretty woman" when they see you walking down the hall or just sitting quietly in class. They never told you that you have shit on your face eversince you got that scar from chicken pox. You’ve always have that slave boyfriend waiting on you for almost three or four damn years. And the reason you hooked up with him? You felt bad for his stupid pathetic ass. This is you..or was you. Living the life of a high school princess. Using your sweet charm to gobble your little preys. But unfortunately, you graduated. Now you are in your twenties. The last thing I heard is that you got pregnant…maybe. Possibly. But who cares now that you are not that cute kinda chubby bitch I used to know? And your slave boyfriend resigned maybe a couple of years after graduation and decided to wait on himself at last. So where are you now? Too bad you’re too wasted to even try to use your looks again. Now you gotta face the real world using your brain, or at least try. That is, if you even have one. Growing up with the sight of your pretty face made me always wonder how you’re gonna make it to the jungle out there once people with real essence starts emerging from this mud..

Miss LV

2009-03-10T20:18:00.000-07:00

June 1995, Mater Carmeli School Quezon City, Philippines, freshmen year in highschool

1st day in English class

Teacher LV: Ok, class. I want you to introduce yourselves one by one starting from the back. Tell me a little bit about yourself and show me your books. You should have two of them.

..came my turn.

Rowella: (stood up) My name is Rowella Liles and I am 12 years old. I was born on January 15, 1983. I like to read, watch t.v. and play the piano. I don't have my books right now..I, I just have one book right now because I haven't bought the other one but I will bring it tomorrow.
T. LV: Oh, well very good. Rowella Liles... do you have a sister in sophomore year?
Rowella: Yes, Teacher.
T. LV: That's what I thought. Oh look at you you're so cute.
Rowella: (nods down, shy smile, sat down on her chair)
Class reaction: smirk, mock, ha-ha (in the down low)

2 weeks later, after a spelling test.

T. LV: As I say your name give me your scores......Joy?...Carol?...Aina?...Angelica?...John Ross?...Jeanne?...John?...Rowella?
Rowella: Twenty. (perfect score, by the way)
T. LV: (glanced back) say again?
Rowella: (got up a little bit) Twenty...
T. LV: (after noting her score looked back at her one more time for like 5 seconds, then to the class) I really like the beauty of this girl. It's so unique.
Classmates: eeeeeeeewwwwwwwww!!!! yuck, are you serious? puh-lease!!!..why her? mock, smirk, hahaha, she's kidding, she lost her damn mind, really, her? She's short and ugly...dark skinned.
John: Rowella, Teacher LV said you're beautiful.
Rowella: (looked at him, smiled at her childhood crush, looked down more embarrassed than ever, still wondering why the teacher made that comment out of all the pretty, popular girls in the class)

For the first time in my life that day, I felt beautiful. I couldn't believe at that time that someone actually looked at me that way aside from the occassional affirmation I would get from my parents. But of course, they're my parents. Would you tell your kid she's ugly even if you know deep down that it's true? I know my mom knew then and now that she looked way better than her daughters. That I can tell in a heartbeat. But I am not going to talk about how lowly I felt for myself 14 years ago and how bad my classmates made me feel. Of all the teachers I've known all my life from Nursery until now, Miss LV Contador, or Teacher LV as everyone used to call her, is the one I will never forget. Not only because she was the first person who thought I was exuding some kind of beauty from within my long, very thick unruly hair along with my introverted personality, but because I felt a connection with her everytime she would teach our class. I was scared of her out of respect, but I admired her ways. Every day was a new learning experience for me. Every project, activity, even every test was a journey. There was a time when she made us go up in front of the class one by one to recite a joke, and this joke better make the class laugh. One of the jokes involved me, of course, and the classroom was filled with undulating laughter. Someday they ought to thank me for being in their class; I made the world a happier place to live in. She never really noticed me for a year except for that day, but I would look at her and listen intently to every word she says, from the noun-verb agreement to "ain't" is not a word. She taught us that the word "ain't" is actually a slang word in the U.S. "For example", she says. "I ain't a lady".

For some reason I thought she wanted me to end up together with this boy in my class, my seatmate with a long chin, curly hair, very fair skin, wears glasses and cannot fully say "rrrrr". To myself I said no, something about his tongue that I can't comprehend. Everytime she would ask me a question I would have the runs, I could not speak English in front of her. I get so intimidated. Nobody else can. I've never witnessed anyone who spoke to her in class that did not stammer.

One day it was her birthday. She just turned 23. Only 23. We were asking her when she's gonna get married and she said no. Not yet. "I wanna see you graduate". Sadly she never saw our batch graduate because she left after that year.

Three months before the school year ends we have an open forum in class. And boy was she a straightforward woman. This girl in my class was put on the spot for everyone to say whatever they feel about her and she said: "K*******a, forgive me for being blunt. Naaartehan ako sayo". Damn. Just like that. I never saw her talked to her or anything but she noticed that? Right then I realize that she did observe people from afar. Obviously I was observed for my rare exquisiteness. Hahaha

She made us memorize Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe in one night and recite it the next day in front of the class.
She graded our diction by having us read a newspaper or magazine (of course, in front of the class) until she says stop.
She made us "make up" some kind of Filipino folk dance and perform...in front of the class.
She kicked me out of her class once (along with some of my special classmates) for not having a spelling booklet for two weeks. The next day I had a recycled spelling booklet with a picture of an ocean and everything wrapped in plastic cover.
The last thing I've heard from her was when she graded my final paper with a 92% although it was late. I had written a paper about crime and she made a comment on it: "Broad-but you made it to 'success' ". I was pleased.

After that year she left our school. Some said she went to another country. Some said she just transferred school because it doesn't pay enough. I've heard from some of my teachers in high school but nobody really knew about her. Some of my classmates probably have forgotten about her. But not me. I feel like I'm back in high school just talking about her. Truly, Teacher LV is one of a kind. One of these days, I will sit down and have coffee with her... somewhere in Paris.

Bachata, anyone?

2009-03-02T19:09:00.000-08:00

It all started one night when the ship was rocking so hard and I was bored out of my mind. My friend Marcelino Alvarez promised me and Sasha that he was gonna teach us how to dance the cumbia and bachata the night before. I asked him to teach me how to dance salsa but he said i should learn bachata instead since supposedly it was "the sexiest dance ever". So we went to the BDS, located at the forward part of the ship and danced half the night away. That's when it all happened. I fell in love with Bachata right away. My problem is that I don't have the hips. And I couldn't get the "hip swing" (or whatever you call it) at the 4 count. I didn't have an idea what bachata would really look like once you start dancing to it, but I fell for Aventura's Mi Coranzoncito (while Marcelino of course, translated for us) and No Es Amor. These songs I listen to this day even if I'm clueless of their meaning.

When I got back from deployment I started researching about it. In the process, I came across Te Extrano by Xtreme (That I know; it means "I miss you") and my favorite song for a while now, Come Back to Me by Xtreme. Un Beso by Aventura was incomparable. As a matter of fact, I just had it translated a while ago by a friend of mine.

So this is the start of my pursuit to learn Bachata. And yes, Marcelino was right. It is the sexiest dance that ever existed. I would watch bachata online and secretly wish I am that girl dancing. Did I envy her! When she dances with him, it's just the two of them and nothing else matters, not even the love song playing in the background.

I haven't taken the first step to learning it. I have so many things going on right now (not a good excuse). One of these days I will learn bachata; I will learn like a boy anxious to court a girl, or a girl falling in love for the first time. I will learn it with so much enthusiasm that when I succeed I can say to myself yes, I know bachata. I will dance like I've never dance before in my life. And my life will never be the same again.

Things I want to do with my life

2009-03-01T23:25:00.000-08:00

1. Learn Bachata
2. Learn to speak Spanish
3. Finish reading Gabriel Garcia Marquez's 100 Years of Solitude
4. Finish writing my damn papers
5. Study photography
6. Study cosmetology
7. Go to nursing school
8. Get a dog
9. Buy a land by the beach in PI
10. Write in my journal
11. Write a book
12. Learn to cook other than hotdog and rice.
13. Time management
14. Astral travel
15. Design my own house..I mean, our house.
16. Work out

so..

2009-02-24T00:20:00.000-08:00

It's 12:20 right now, and I'm behind 3 papers. I told myself that i was gonna write 1 paper last weekened and two for today, just as i have started last week. But writing paper is exhausting as you can see. After 1 week of writing papers straight i need a break but i can't because as you can see, I am way behind. In a way i know i deserve this. I'm not good in time management anymore.

pressed for time

2009-02-18T18:13:00.000-08:00

i finished writing two papers last night and i was still up until 2 am. i have to keep in track if i want to pass my class. i am now currently on the second module of one of my three classes. i hope i'll be able to finish two papers again this time. medyo mahirap pero kailangang kayanin. I also can't decide on a hotel for this weekend. my husband wants us to stay in downtown so we don't have to worry about getting home afterwards. i also suggested to stay there instead of getting a hotel somewhere in point loma or national city. at least, when we're there and we can't find a cab then then we can just walk back to the hotel. that's why i'm trying to write as many papers as i could so then to make up for the day where i won't be able to write any paper. hhhhhaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyy. this is what you get when you procrastinate. i don't have time for it right now i have to get to the bottom of my goal so i have to go. i have so much more to say but i'll just try to find time when i'm done. i am so pressed for time and i can't do anything about it.

back to reality after two weeks vacation

2009-02-17T19:09:00.000-08:00

Andito na naman ako...same old apartment complex. same routine. same work every single day. After my 2-week-long vacation, where I almost forgot that I actually have a job, and for once I felt like I didn't have to worry about waking up to morning rush, after two weeks, now there are papers to finish and deadlines to meet. The only good part about ending my vacation is where I get to see my husband again, because you know two weeks is long enough when we're not together. We spent 2 years being seperated initially, when i was still in okinawa and he was in el centro. When I got to San Diego for the first time in a long time, I had to deploy for four months. then when i got back, 3 months after deployment na naman. At least now I finally got my break except that I have to worry about school because I don't want to owe the navy any money when I get out. Moreover, since I failed 4 classes in college and got kicked out of school,, I vowed that would never happen again. Hindi maganda sa record if you have a failed class. What more kung tatlo?

So there's always a light at the end of the tunnel. There's something to look forward to this weekend, yun nga lang, I really have to put effort on my papers. that will be my motivation. Mardigras. It's some kind of Brazilian celebration (or am i right? Please correct me if I'm wrong.) My husband and I have been looking forward to it. Stress reliever at the end of a week-long pattern. So i gotta go and start on my papers..