THE GOSSIP GIRL

From: http://www.dreamstime.com

Funny how people love a very juicy gossip; how enticing and how good it must feel to just take on other people’s lives and making it one hell of a hobby! 🙂

Before I was employed in an office-based career, I was on a field-work for the last 13 years and it was a semi-solitary confinement. I work on shifts and usually alone during my work hours; there’s technically no one to talk to except when somebody calls on the phone when something has gone wrong in the system. So, it was basically a very unfriendly working environment, the only good thing is – I don’t have the chance to relate with my other co-workers for a longer time, as I exit from work right after the next person-on-duty arrives. So I don’t have the chance to compare myself with others. No comparison means no feeling of superiority or inferiority. Human nature is all that all the time, hence, loving the feeling of pulling other people down to feel powerful.

When I got an office-based job, it was a roller coaster. Everyone is taking a bit of other people’s lives. I was taking bits and pieces of them, too. But most of the time, I cringe when I realize that I already have been doing what I hate doing. I don’t like to do gossip, but when the opportunity knocks, I succumb. It was, I think and feel, that taking part in it is like socializing, you take sides and voila! You become friends with someone who shares the same ideas and you become one with the group. Who wouldn’t love a very juicy gossip? It’s like eating a very sumptuous moist chocolate cake, you feel good right after!

But after sharing a thought or two, I feel guilty. What it does to me most of the time is very exhausting. It was always a realization that my so-called friends might have been doing the same to me. I have no skeletons in my closet, but anybody can put up a very good story. With all the actions and facial expressions during delivery, I dared something unbelievable could be very much be believable.

Every time the girls group during break time, It was always an opportunity for me to test the oath I swear never to gossip. Most of the time, I fail miserably. What’s worse is I am sharing my personal opinion. Me and my big mouth! Oh, how easy it was to become human and and so difficult to remain humane. Words can hurt so deep that not even the most expensive medicine can heal.

I am dealing with it every single day. I am the big fat perpetrator whenever I open my mouth! And for all I know, I might also be the innocent victim when I’m not in the office. Everything comes in full circle, that’s for sure. It’s scary and now I feel so uncomfortable around people in the office. It is a personal struggle. I’m just glad I still have the time to internalize and gather my thoughts and decipher the good from the bad.

The moral of my musings: Don’t do unto others what you don’t want them do unto you.

MY FAVORITE ADDICTION

Yes, I am a self-confessed addict. I tried giving it up years ago.  At some point, I succeeded; but most of the time, I failed. That being said, old habits just don’t ever die. Through time, realizations just come across from nowhere and makes me sit down and write all the things why I succeed and failed in conquering my addiction. Today is one of those days.

Before I throw in my light-bulb moments, please be informed that I am a working mom who wakes up at 5am to prepare every weekdays and goes to work from 8am-5pm, commutes to and from work in a public utility vehicle and a company bus, gets home at around 7pm, only had an hour of lunch break during the day, a home maker, a cook and a babysitter all at the same time, BUT can still squeeze in reading trilogy novels in 3 days. My addiction for reading romance novels sometimes gets out of hand. 🙂

So bad it is. Here goes my list why reading romance novels is a (kind of) bad thing (?):

1.) It takes too much of your free time (including lunch breaks and coffee breaks at work). When I start to read a very good book, I can’t put put it down until it ends. I feel guilty sometimes, thinking I could have made useful the time I spent reading for other productive things like…reading (?) This is really bad. I cannot even think of any other productive things to do other than reading 🙂

2.) It’s no different from a very addictive video game. The more you indulge in it, it just keeps getting better and better. And like playing a video game, you don’t want to be interrupted or else!

3.) It gives you false hopes. 99.99% of all romance novel theme is all about every girl’s ultimate dreams coming true, leaving one a hopeless romantic and a sucker for happy endings. I hope there is a study of women who loves to read romance novels and on how they deal with real-life relationships (if they even have one 🙂 ). I would like to bet that there is high statistics of women who marry late or never marry at all waiting for Mr. Right to come along just like the heroes in the books (dashing debonair, billionaires,CEOs, Christian Grey). Pathetic.

4.) It introduces you to a lot of erotic strategies. It’s not a bad thing, right? Or is it? For minors, yes? 🙂 I, for one, found romance novels very educational in terms of sex education (well, putting it in my most decent comment for conservative readers). 🙂

5.) Before one book ends, you can’t wait to start reading another one. It is a revolution. And an addiction.

6.) It can give you body ailments – stiff neck, poor vision, fat tummy due to lesser burning of calories while sitting the whole time reading.

My list of negative effects can go on forever, but I love my addiction! So, no stopping it anytime. So much for giving everyone points to ponder! haha

 

 

 

FAMILY FEUD

 

Long before I knew time, conflicts with my relatives and family existed. It was, I think, handed down from generations that were too proud and unforgiving. Today, having witnessed a very stunning confrontation between my two aunts, I tried to recollect the same instances in the past as far as my memory can serve me; the same shallow reasons, the same immaturity. To think, they were already in their 60’s. The pain and the grudge were passed on to their children, making the younger generation hate each other again.

The cycle won’t break and I wonder, maybe they are happy of what’s been happening; are these, for them, stress busters or something? I can only laugh at the idea of while they are raising their voices and  fight one another like children lowers their blood pressure. Yes, it’s true that if you let your suppressed feelings go, it will make you feel better and its healthy. But, the truth of the matter is, while you are punching words at your own brother or sister, you are deliberately hurting them in the process. You are creating a much bigger problem. Wounds can heal, but the words that pierced like a knife will be forever remembered. Same way that I don’t believe in the saying, “Forgive and forget”. I might just love the 5SOS song “Amnesia” if it can be done in any situation. 🙂

The experience helped me deal with my own brothers and sister. In my very first personal blog about family, I wrote about my relationship with my younger sister. As an elder sibling, I tend to analyze what goes around my sister’s brainy brain, why we always have conflicting views and opinions and eventually fight over nonsense things. I think I already figured some of them because we fight so rarely now, unlike before; a little friction with little words always generates really large fires that sometimes I would really want to punch her in the face (I’ve never done that, but I think I would love to haha!).

The realizations came when I saw my two aunts fighting. When me and my little sister grows old, I don’t want us to be like my two aunts. Having said that, I just would like to point out some things that siblings fell prey to and fight over. I may or may not have experienced some of these reasons, but I am preparing myself to overcome when the situation sits.

Here are 3 obvious reasons why I think siblings fight and how to overcome them:

1.) Favoritism by parents – I only have a daughter and she has all my attention. I cannot relate to this as a parent, but as a daughter, I think I can manage a few thoughts. I am second from the eldest; I have an older brother that is only a year ahead of me. I remember, way back as a freshman in college, we were required to speak one on one with the University Guidance Counselor. The first question she asked me straight-faced was, “Do you oftentimes feel insecure?” I cannot think of a clear answer so I just smiled and asked her back,”Why?”. She told me about the psychology of a second child, always the second best, always in the shadow of the eldest. Much more that my age gap with my brother is only a little more than a year, she said that the it’s possible that while we were still babies, I might not have gotten the same special attention as the eldest offspring received. True enough, I was raised with a nanny.

The possibility of insecurities in children that can sprung from favoritism of parents is eminent but can be mended. In my case, I was not as insecure as can be perceived from a child that lacked attention because I always think of beautiful things; as I am a woman of all sorts, I always do a lot of diverting fruitful activities. I don’t mind being always the second best, it is good enough for me already. The bottom line is, I have always loved my older brother; no reason to feel hate or anything.

But, in some families, favoritism makes one good reason siblings fight.

2.) Sibling Rivalry – We are four children in the family and this problem can come up any time. I personally don’t like the idea of sibling rivalry; it’s about jealousy, competition, and animosity between brothers and sisters. It’s not a healthy competition. Often times, it is the parents that are hurt in the end. From my personal experience, I cannot cite  a concrete example of a sibling rivalry in our family. From my own point of view, I don’t remember being jealous or being competitive with my other siblings. The secret lies in happy thoughts. Whatever my brothers and sister achieve, I was always happy for them; no sibling rivalry.

3.) Inheritance – Ah, this is one thing I can not relate first hand. Just knew a lot of family problems that rooted from it. I remember this very touching Filipino movie entitled “Tanging Yaman“. It is a story of a very broken family; full of hatred and jealousy of siblings to the point of arguing and scrambling over to inherit the properties of their parents. This problem exists in most families in all races, except for an only child of course. That is the saddest thing; sacrificing relationships over material things.

I just think that one solution to this problem is for the parents to talk to their children about these things early. It might sound so awkward, really; when the parents are still living and they talk about how to divide their properties equally, if there’s anything to divide (haha). That is the most proactive way to stop the problem from ever surfacing.

Well, those are my top three. There may be a lot more reasons for siblings to fight for, but in the end, I would like to believe that for whatever reasons siblings fight, at the end of the day, brothers and sisters should never fail to reconcile. Family will always be family, no matter what.

I hope I made clear why I put the 5SOS Song “Amnesia” on top of this blog (haha). Well, forgetting the cause of pain can make difficult things easier to do, like “forgiving”. 🙂

A FILIPINO TOURIST IN SYDNEY, AUSTRALIA

I had the time of my life when I went for a 2-week vacation to see my husband in Sydney, Australia last month. I was really excited to have a really amazing adventure in the Land Down Under!

Since it’s my first out-of-the country travel and alone, I was not familiar with the process. During my assessment in the Immigration Section at the Philippine Airport, the Officer had no questions, she just looked at me and confirmed my picture in the passport and stamped something on my passport. Instead of me proceeding forward past the Officer, I turned back and walked away. I was so embarrassed when they called my name aloud and asked me where I was going; they instructed, again aloud,  that I was suppose to proceed past the Officer to wait for plane boarding! The people were staring at me and butterflies start to swarm my stomach, I just laughed a little and told them, “Forgive the first timer”. Whew! 🙂

From Manila, Philippines, it took me a tiring 9-hour flight. Just so glad that I had no seatmate in the plane; I pulled the armrest between the seats up and slept on it just like a bed. I stretched and yawn and yawn, but could not get myself to sleep. I had been dreaming of this vacation for a long time, that even the most tiring flight can’t get me to sleep. Maybe my subconscious was telling me not sleep because I might wake up and realize that everything was just a dream (haha). Anyway, it was a fun ride; looking forward to reunite with my hubby who is working in Sydney.

So this is Sydney. One of the places I can only read about in books. It was really a lot different from where I live; crispy cold, clean and a lot of amazingly beautiful people. On top of that, I experienced my first taste of winter! (it’s okey without the snow) 🙂

My husband prepared to buy me winter clothes. While we were shopping, I just could not stop converting the prices to Philippine Peso! It was amazingly stressful (haha). The prices converted to Peso were way too big for me already (I’m a cheap shopper, that’s why. haha!) My husband just kept explaining that the price of the goods are as normal as they can get, “We are in Australia, for heaven sake. What can you expect.” In the end, I had the most expensive shopping spree ever; thank you, hubby. 🙂

We went to downtown Sydney and just walked and walked and walked until sundown. Such a lovely city. We went to Hyde Park, St. Mary’s Cathedral, and The Australian Museum featuring Dinosaurs. Of course, how can I miss the Sydney Opera House and the Sydney Harbour Bridge; we went to it during sunset and I enjoyed it’s beauty in reality. Also went to Darling Harbor and got mesmerized by the amazing city lights at night. I figured hundreds of restaurants, cafes, and bars. And the food, yes the food! I had to taste what’s not in my country. I started with the Fish and Chips with vegetable salad; an introduction to a no-rice diet. Everyone I see were happy and speaking in a very impressive accent (this is just for me 🙂 )   The night is so young in Sydney, and the people looked like they just got started.

My husband bought us a 5-attractions tickets to see Madame Tussauds creations, Sea Life and Wildlife Museums, and the Sydney Tower Eye where we experienced looking the whole of Sydney from the highest point at the breathtaking Skywalk. The Luna Park at Milson’s Point was full of children and those young at heart; the only place I visited crossing the Sydney Harbour Bridge.

I felt the heat of the sun on winter at Watson’s Bay and the world-renowned Bondi Beach. The two sites were quite near to each other, so we swept visiting them in half a day. We also went to Manly Beach and bought souvenirs.

While roaming to and fro the city, the most mesmerizing building I’ve seen was the Queen Victoria Building; such intricately built historical structure turned into a modern Mall.  All of the buildings and houses there were historical and were made of winter-ready and very sturdy materials-bricks. I cannot imagine having homes like those here in my tropical country, aside of course for those who can afford air condition units.

We toured the Taronga Zoological Zoo for one day. It was the biggest zoo I’ve been to. Saw for the first time the Tasmanian Devil; they don’t look devilish after all. 🙂 Also saw kangaroos, but I was a bit disappointed not to have the chance to see a kangaroo with a baby in the pocket.

All in all, my experience was the best so far. I could never have done all these things without my partner-in-crime for life, my ever dearest husband. 🙂

 

 

I GOT “HIT”

Wow, its been a while since I wrote something interesting (at least, for me 🙂 ). But lately, I experienced something interesting and find it too intriguing not to write about.

I am two weeks shy from my scheduled vacation to Sydney, Australia, so I am busy preparing my documents for a smooth passage in the Immigration Office on my flight date. My first ever out-of-the-country travel. One of the documents was the N.B.I. (National Bureau of Investigation) Clearance (Philippines’ NBI is the counterpart of U.S.A’s FBI). To acquire the clearance, I went to the NBI Office last June 16 and applied for it.

My name was called after 5 hours and a half to have my picture and my biometrics taken. Supposedly, after that, if a person doesn’t have criminal or derogatory records, one can immediately get the clearance. The sad thing is, I was advised to come back after 5 days to get my clearance because my name got “hit” when they scanned it against their records of persons with criminal records.

Oh gosh, someone with name same as mine is on the “wanted” list. I told the office,” it’s definitely not me!” 🙂 I don’t have to explain further, I just smiled and walked away thinking that along with the 90 million population of my country, someone shared my name but not my “law-abiding citizen” disposition.

I came back on the 5th day. I waited for roughly 30 minutes, anxious but confident to get the clearance. And my name was called at the releasing area.

With my experience, I can’t help but think and feel for those people whose identity were taken mistakenly as notorious. Sometimes, the worst thing happens, I hear news of persons killed by “riding in tandem vigilantes” but close friends and  relatives of the victim would come shocked and disdainful. They would tell stories of how much of a good man the victim was; swearing that the victim never had a bad trait on every strand of his hair. It’s not fair, right?

The city where I live probably had the most cases of vigilantism in the Philippines. We call them the Davao Death Squad. Our City Mayor Rodrigo Duterte was the alleged mastermind of the summary executions and was even investigated by the Human Rights Group and the Department of Justice, but was never proven. Our City Mayor would just laugh at it and openly agrees to the summary executions, citing that the victims were trashes to the society; drug addicts and drug traffickers.

Sometimes, I think of these things as beneficial for me and my family. Nobody would dare do bad things anymore. I can walk around the city at night time feeling safe and protected from lawless elements. But when I got “hit” during the clearance, I feel that anybody can be a victim, even me or someone from my family. My conscience is clear; I have been a law-abiding citizen since birth. But what if I will be mistaken for somebody with a really, really bad record?

 

THE ROADS LESS TRAVELED BY

Last May 19, 2014, I had the first chance of a lifetime to travel by land one of the most dangerous places in the Philippines, or so they say; the Autonomous Region of Muslim Mindanao.

We departed from Davao City at 1:00 P.M. I was seated on the passenger seat next to the driver. Mr. Driver asked me if I have any issue regarding speed limit, sighting that he intends to drive at an average of 130kph. I immediately asked why and he told me that there are areas along the way that are very critical after sunset; critical because the residents living around that certain area make “kidnapping” a way of living. After hearing his reason, I immediately said “no” (of course 🙂 ). So, the ultimate goal is to arrive to our destination before the sun sets. I had mixed emotions; thrilled and excited, but at the same time, worried. It was my very first road trip to the infamous home of terrorists in the island of Mindanao, Philippines.

During the first hour, I was asleep; I was still confident because we are still within the boundary of the southern part of Davao Region. When we passed by the Municipality of Bansalan, that’s when I was so wide awake and all my senses activated. I want to witness every inch of the road less traveled by. Mr. Driver was very calm and careful at his 130kph speed, but I can see his urgency to come past the noted areas. The roads are well-cemented; a good sign of progress, but the houses along the way are mostly shabby. The people we passed by looked at us with discerning eyes.

I can observe tarpaulin prints and paint posts saying proudly “Congratulations! Bangsamoro Government” pertaining to the newly signed comprehensive peace agreement between the President of the Republic of the Philippines and the Moro Islamic Liberation Front (MILF) last March 27, 2014, that gave them sovereignty over their ancestral lands in exchange for deactivation of rebel forces by the MILF. I can feel tension everywhere, with frequent sightings of War tanks at every AFP (Philippine Army) checkpoints.

When we arrived at our destination, one of the Substations of the company I work for, I still never felt safe because the Security Guards and the Staff were said to be members and relatives of the MILF. We had to be careful of what we say and do around the place. Right in front of the gate of the Substation was said to be the newly built Office Building of the MILFs.

I also got the chance to see where the Maguindanao Massacre took place in November 2009; the municipality of Shariff Aguak. It is also known as the “Ampatuan Massacre” because the alleged mastermind is one of the members of one of the most powerful Muslim Political clans in Mindanao, Andal Ampatuan, Jr. The victims were composed of the wife of the Ampatuans’ political rival, Toto Mangudadato, and her sisters, journalists, lawyers, and civilians mistaken as part of the convoy; a total of 58 casualties, kidnapped, brutally killed and buried in a mass grave.

I also got to see the castle-like residence of the Ampatuans surrounded with small houses made of dilapidated bamboo matting; a very extreme manifestation of uneven distribution of wealth and corruption.  It was said that the small houses are home to the Ampatuans’ personal army and guards.

 

 

On the lighter side, I was so amazed at the beautiful Mosques. It was my first time to see Mosques at almost every kilometer interval since we entered the Muslim Region. There was this particular Mosque somewhere in Datu Saudi Ampatuan, Maguindanao that really caught me; it was like a castle in a Disney movie; so pink and so beautiful. It is situated more or less 500 meters away from the road. I cannot get close enough to take pictures; just a snap from our running vehicle, such a shame I can’t stop over and rejoice in its beauty. The mosque is the one over the shabby hut.

When we got a few more kilometers away from the critical areas, me and my colleagues stopped to breathe fresh air and taste the sweet water melon abundant in the place called “Esperanza”. It was the safest place that we’ve ever came across with; the inhabitants were mostly ilonggos and ilokanos.

Further down south, we passed by the Provincial Capitol of Sultan Kudarat; a very grandiose mosque-like building located at Isulan, North Cotabato. The travel was already relaxing as we were nearing  Tacurong City; a part of North Cotabato with a more liberal Government because majority of the residents are Christians.

My road trip experience was really very interesting. Having had close encounters with members of one of the most notorious rebel groups in the Philippines, and around the World as well, was very amusing for me. I felt happy and fearful all at the same time. The experience could have me broken, but I loved the hype and the risk.

I am home now, safe and sound, writing this experience.

JUST DON’T MIND THE ONE WITH THE BIG NOSE :-)

What’s behind me is the name of the small but elegant culinary school here in Davao City where I participated a 2-day workshop on Basic Cakes and Frosting. The school’s name is so enticing as it can get; Gourmet Bites. It was really a joy when I entered the 10-person capacity baking area; I felt so at home, imagining the smell of baked cakes and the feel of the utensils and wearing the cap and the apron were really, really good. I could have been a Pastry Chef. Could have been. 🙂 But, anyway, it was a very fruitful experience. Learning the basics is just the beginning for me. I felt the want to pursue this long overdue dream but just don’t have the luxury of time. Chef Simone, our mentor, was so indulgent in giving away tips for a successful baking.

Two months ago, I was so into losing weight and stuff, but now I am in my new hype: baking. Such amusing irony of both worlds 🙂 I am always into a lot of things; new flavor of activity every month. The idea was not really new; just in hiatus for several short periods in my lifetime during health consciousness moments. 🙂  I get excited with learning new ideas, so pardon my extreme likes for trying desperately to lose calories today and learning how to gain it back the next day (haha). Either way, it just goes to show that I fancy anything about kitchens; the good and bad about the place. 🙂 And one thing I love about kitchens, everything in it never goes out of style; no new or old technology, so no missing out on good food and fun.

Eventhough I can’t be the pastry chef I wanted to be, I still plan to continue the cake baking modules of the school on my own pace and plans to open a small coffee and pastry shop soon. How’s that for a dream? 🙂

I would like to share one recipe that we made during the work shop. My finished product was not perfect, but already very good enough for me (Pic of my finished product on your right) Our mentor Chef’s demo cake was perfect. So, along with the recipe, I will include the useful tips she gave that I did not execute properly (haha). Here goes the recipe :

MOCCHA CHIFFON CAKE WITH WHIPPED MOCCHA FROSTING

Ingredients:

Cake Flour              1 1/4 cup

Baking Powder      1 1/2 tsp

Salt                             1/2 tsp

White Sugar            1/2 cup

Coffee Powder        1 tbsp

 

Egg yolks                   4 pcs

Vegetable oil           1/4 cup

Vanilla                       1/2 tsp

Water                         1/2 cup

 

For Egg-white Meringue:

Egg whites               4 pcs

Cream of Tartar     1/2 tsp

White sugar             1/4 cup

 

Procedure:

1. Preheat the oven to 350 deg F. Lightly grease the bottom of the pan only.
2. In a bowl, combine the cake flour, baking powder, salt, sugar, and coffee and set aside.
3. Gradually combine the egg yolks, vegetable oil, vanilla, and water. Beat with a whisk until the egg yolk mixture is well-blended and turns light yellow in color. Pour the egg yolk mixture into the flour mixture and combine well.
4. In a clean bowl, whisk the egg whites using an electric mixer until it looks bubbly; add in the cream of tartar until it starts to look foamy, then add in the sugar. Beat at high speed until stiff peak stage is reached (but not dry)
5. Fold in the egg whites into the flour-egg yolk mixture. This is the most tricky part. By folding, means “literally” folding in SLOWLY the foamy egg white meringue to the flour-egg mixture using a rubber spatula or a wire whisk. DO NOT stir or whisk because the air in the egg-white meringue will escape and the mixture will become watery; it will ruin the foamy consistency of the mixture. The aim is to maintain the foamy consistency so that the cake will be soft and fluffy. (This is where I got a little bit off; my finished product was semi-compact because my cake mixture became watery)
6. Pour batter into the prepared pan and bake immediately for 25-30 mins.
7. Remove cake from oven and let cool completely

 

For Whipped Moccha Frosting:

Non-dairy Whipping Cream                      1 cup   (chilled overnight)

Powdered Sugar                                             2/3 cup

Coffee Paste                                                      Combination of 1 tbsp coffee + 1.5 tsp hot water

 

Procedure:

1. Whip the cream until thick and fluffy
2. Add the Powdered Sugar
3. Add in the Coffee Paste
4. Ice over the cake.
5. Sprinkle finished product with favorite topping.
6. Lastly, enjoy! 🙂

I personally love the coffee-taste of this cake. If you happen to try the recipe, I would like to hear feed backs. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

DP: JUNK THE JUNK

I love chips! But, when I started my healthy meal plan a month ago, I junked them all. It was not an easy journey, though. To go cold turkey on not eating all my favorite unhealthy foods anymore was a real struggle, because the thing is, the most delicious foods are the unhealthy ones. I bet a majority would agree with me on this; burger, chips, nuggets, cakes and pastries.

I lost 10.6 pounds by not eating junk. But I could have lost more had I not been cheating once in a while. 🙂 It is a challenge that I have to face on a daily basis; with everyone around me eating high-calorie foods, I just turn my cheek with eyes closed and imagine a model’s runway (haha). That was my plan, but not anymore. I only want to be healthy, not thin. 🙂

 

MY GREATEST FEAR AS A MOTHER

 

It was 10 o’clock in the evening and I just got home from work. My daughter’s nanny met me at the front door of our home with a sad look. My heart skipped and asked her what’s wrong. She told me my baby Faith has a fever. I immediately went to my daughter who was resting inside a cradle made from a mattress hanging in our living room. My daughter’s eyes were teary; she looked at me with those sad eyes that could me apart. If only I can make her sickness go away or trade places with her. I would really do everything for my daughter.

My greatest fear stemmed from the experiences of my own mother when she almost lost me when I was still a baby. When my daughter gets sick even from mild cough and cold, I always make an appointment with her pediatrician; I am such a hypochindriac when it comes to my daughter and I can’t help it. From the moment I gave birth, I completed all available immunizations for her. And as soon as she became aware of the pain inflicted upon her by the injections, she became latrophobic. Her fear made it difficult for me to make her understand that doctors mean no harm. So every time we meet with her doctor, it was always a struggle; she cries a lot. All she can remember were the needles. I admit, I am partly to blame. But I know she will thank me later.

As a working mother, I experienced receiving calls from home telling me that my daughter is sick. I would immediately ask permission from my boss to skip work and attend to my sick daughter. I really hate receiving those kinds of bad news; gives me anxiety attacks during her early years, but as time goes, I learned to compose. I learned to realize that childhood will never be complete for every children around the world if they don’t get sick. It is a reality that parents should learn to be strong for their children. If the parent breaks, where would their children run to for strength?

My personal experiences allowed me to understand the strength of being a parent, more so being a mother. I became resilient during these trying times, I fought hard not to cry in front of my daughter. She is my sweet first born and I am pressured not to  jeopardize being a mother for the first time.

Motherhood can be the most fulfilling role on earth, but can also be the most challenging. It is a God-given privilege that can make or break a woman, but I prefer to be the former.  When my daughter grows up one day and become a mother herself, I want to leave her the legacy of resilience in everything she does for her family; the strength that is drawn from Faith in God.

 

WWC: FIFTY

I am the green-eyed lady today and I want all my hubby’s time. He is miles away from me working and I can’t do anything much about my mood today. Maybe it’s just the time of the month for me. Hope to get over this and start afresh tomorrow morning.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

MY MOST UNPRODUCTIVE MONTH BLOGGING TURNED OUT TO BE MY MOST PRODUCTIVE MONTH LOSING WEIGHT

Since I started blogging in November 2013, I only had 11 posts for the month of March 2014. In truth, I have so many things up my sleeves to write about, but I was so focused on changing my meal plan and make a complete 180 degrees turn-around to healthy foods. It can’t wait; it’s now or never. It was a real struggle, harder than solving problems in my Board Exams. But—-it paid off. I lost a whooping (?) 10.6 pounds in 30 days!

It was already a very conservative figure, as I was cheating just a (little) bit during the program. I can lose more had I took it seriously. Did I just said I had a complete 180 degrees turn-around? (haha) Ok, I lied. (sorry 🙂 )

My journey was full of hope and determination. It started out with a goal to live healthy, not only for myself but also for my family especially for my daughter. I just realized for myself that getting sick because of being obese is not acceptable; it can always be stopped and reversed anytime. All it took were lots and lots of determination. I could just imagine being a couch potato watching  one whole season of Game of Thrones in one sitting and finishing 2 or 3 packs of chips, I’m brushing off that thought now.

The first week was the most difficult; I stopped eating all the foods I love to eat. Whatever is not in the meal plan should not be eaten. The program was entirely cutting out calories, not food. So, the good thing is, I am losing weight the healthy way by eating healthy foods in moderation. Starving is a no-no. I already started losing weight for the 1st week; it motivated me to strive to lose more.

As the days go, I already understood how my body worked; it is so darn easy for me to gain weight, but I could really die trying to lose weight if not the healthy way. But, my mind set was already made up and it became easier. My taste buds have already adapted to the new set of food tastes. My body was responding well until I lost 10.6 pounds on the 31st day. I have not yet achieved my ideal weight but I am already very pleased with the weight I lost. I still have a long way, but I am not turning back now, not ever.

It was a life-changing moment. I used to be very shy walking from home to just anywhere, so I prefer to just stay home during my day-offs and blog. Not that blogging made me fat, ok? 🙂 But it was a personal choice not to be publicly seen by familiar people. My daily destinations were only work and home. My husband is an overseas worker, so he can only see my face when we chat on skype (haha). I feel shy even in front of my husband 🙂 . But now, I gained back my confidence and I hope to influence other people to start eating right.

We all are what we eat. It will always, always be up to us to change our food or change anything in every aspect in our lives for that matter. We are our own’s worst enemy; nothing can be more liberating than accepting defeat, facing our fears, learning from mistakes and then make strategies on how to win the next time.

Start small by changing the way you think first; it can go a long way. When you think you can’t do it, think that you are doing it for your family who needs you healthy. Think of the wonderful things you can do when you are in your right weight and think of not getting sick. It all starts in mind setting, the rest will follow. It worked for me, it’s impossible not to work on anyone.

Be inspired.

I will post more next time on my weight loss journey. I am not posting any pics of my “before” and “after” just yet until I achieve my ideal physique. 🙂

 

 

 

 

 

THE UNREQUITED LOVE

Is it really noble, heroic, and virtuous to just accept for one’s self an unrequited love?

I have a friend called M who has that plight and I pity her; pitied her because I could not help her even if I wanted to – because she just won’t listen. I could not care less anymore. I stopped talking sense into her since I felt like a nagging love therapist or more like a villain in her imaginary love story. M loves a man who loves another woman – a very uncommon situation, right? 😉 Kidding aside, their situation became more of a spider web trapping because the “other” woman is M’s neighbor and best friend and M does not know of it happening.

“Because what’s worse than knowing you want something, besides knowing you can never have it?” ― James Patterson, The Angel Experiment

 

The guy M loved already told her straight-faced that he does not love her and that he loves another. Is it not enough reason to stay away and stop loving? M knew there is an “other” woman, but amazingly, M did not care and so she keeps on in the hope that someday the guy will love her back – which I doubt. Am I such a bad friend? I knew the closeness of their situation all along but I did not and cannot tell her who the other woman is because I think it will only create too much of a chaos. Because I think that regardless whether the “other” woman is M’s friend or not will not matter anymore; the guy already told her that he does not love M. Period. I think that that is an enough reason already for M to stay away. I could only tell her to just lay low now, stop praising the guy, look for another man, start living and love her own self first and foremost, but as I said, M would not listen.

“I understand it, but I don’t like it. I wish we could all be together like before: best friends, not heartbroken strangers.” ― Amy Plum, If I Should Die

From my own point of view, I think that M’s love for the guy is not love at all; it is more of an obsession, modern day martyrdom at that. M cared much for the guy to the extent of doing things like preparing his things, cooking him food, etc. Every time she does that, she feels happy but the guy – well, would feel awkward all the time. I think he pitied her as well. Most of the time, I can see him very kind to M. Sometimes makes me think that he was just being considerate to the very least out of pity and respect for M’s feelings  of love for him, but – if I were to dissect his kindness to M, I say that it was borne out of guilt. Guilty because the three of them, M and the guy and the “other woman”, would sometimes get together for some laughs and long talks about life and friendships; without M knowing that her best friend is her beloved’s love. And I can only imagine M confiding to her best friend regarding her love problems. Oh Gosh! Can anyone get kinder, please! 😦

“I’d learned that some things are best kept secret.” ― Nicholas Sparks, Dear John

A woman’s instinct is so powerful. M’s instinct should already be working by now; no need to work for knowing if her beloved has an “other” woman because she was already told, but should be working to know who the other woman is. The three of them were drinking buddies, so their bonding moments together never start without drinks and stuffs. I wonder how the guy and the “other” woman manage to never lose themselves in the occasion, because M never mentions anything suspicious. I am such an eavesdropper! (haha) I am just so curious how the story will end for the three of them.

Can M be blamed? Yes. Can the guy be blamed? Yes. Can the “other” woman be blamed? Yes. Can I be blamed for anything at all? No. Such bias (haha). I think that the most proper way of M knowing the whole truth should be from the guy standing up once and for all and tell M that his girlfriend happens to be both their “friend”. I don’t want to judge and take sides; each one of them has their own reasons for loving and keeping secrets. I don’t want to be that first person to break the ugly news. I may sound like a bad friend, but I’ve done my part. I have already talked M through getting over a hopeless love and getting on with a new life, but as she feels before she thinks, she is stubbornly hopeless as well.

“If love be blind, love cannot hit the mark.” ― William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

M is such an ardent lover. Her strength to love and care for someone is her weakness all at the same time. If her love was well-reciprocated, it could have been a very wonderful relationship. Her love has such mystery into it that can’t be helped. At one point, I admired her for selflessly loving a man, but as time goes, it became too much to admire because what blossomed as a love that should be nurturing was now a destructing monster slowly eating her pride until none is left of her. She was all okey when told by the guy that he does not love her; which automatically means it is okey with her to be the “mistress” in the relationship and will still do any kind of chores just for the guy to accept her love even if he can’t give it back.

I am really going to get headaches over-analyzing their situation. Why can’t M just listen and open her mind? Why can’t M just un-deaf and un-blind herself? It’s not love M, it’s definitely not love!

I think I already have the answer to my question. No, it is not noble, heroic, and virtuous.

It is stupidity in all sense of the word. Sorry (shrugging shoulders)

“Stupid as a man, say the women: cowardly as a woman, say the men. Stupidity in a woman is unwomanly” –Friedrich Nietzsche

And I rest my case.

THE CONFUSED LOSER

It’s been days and I can’t think of anything interesting to write.

Actually, there is – but I can’t put them to words. I’m lost in translating. First, I want to write about my staggering weight loss journey, then I want to write about foods I love eating. I also want to write about places I want to go to but I can’t make time to travel; nothing seems to fall into the right places and I hate it.

How else can one write interestingly when the interesting things are beyond touch. Blogging seemed to have taken its toll on me. Everyday I browse the WordPress Daily Prompts and try to come up with something sensible to write but I am struggling. I hope I can get over this.

Is expiration the opposite of inspiration? Because I feel expired, void. Had not had the slightest clue even where I am going while writing this particular stuff (haha). Just so I can write my frustrations and somehow lighten this burden in my heart. Writing (or blogging) is my new found friend, but why can’t blogging just befriend me, please.

“There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” ― Ernest Hemingway

I started this blog with no definite reason, but I kept on writing. I ached for this to happen but when it was happening, the next thing I knew I was back at ground zero. Was it my expectation for myself I did not meet or was it my readers’ expectations I felt I failed to meet, if indeed I had readers. 🙂 All the things I hoped for were now coming back at me and I can’t dodge them; they all strike me head-on and I don’t know what my goals for writing are anymore. Is this where I will stop writing?

I hope not.

“One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.” ― Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bums

Maybe I will start reconciling with myself; maybe only through reconciliation that I can make myself “write” again. I will try not to feel guilty about anything and not think of expectations from anyone most especially with myself. From time to time, I will try to look at the mirror and remind the person looking back at me to never exist just to please everyone around and to love herself most of all. After all, it is always true that “you cannot give what you don’t have” (I John 4:7-19).

So, I will keep writing whether I’m inspired or expired. 🙂

LISTEN WITH YOUR HEART

A tribute to all who helped Tacloban, Leyte stand up in the midst of the aftermath of Typhoon Haiyan.

Thank you so much, world!

Spreading love around the globe from the Philippines! 🙂

 

FIERCE ON FEARS – LUNG LEAVIN’ DAY

My father died almost 2 years ago because of multiple organ failures but his memory lived in me. His last 4 years was a very enduring journey for our family, especially for my mother who became his personal caregiver. My father was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease on August of 2008. Initially, his doctor gave him maintenance medications to slow the progress of the symptoms, but in a year’s time, the symptoms greatly progressed.

Due to desperation, aside from medical treatments, we also opted to consult quack doctors, acupuncturists, herbalists, and everything else related to disease treatment but to no avail. We always go back to his doctor for additional dosage of the same medicines. New symptoms emerged and the doctor kept on adding new medicines, treating one symptom after another. The last doctor we consulted gave us a dead-end; he said that my father acquired the illness through his occupation – he was chemically poisoned. Being a seafarer for 36 years working at a lower deck of an international tanker ship, it was a no-brainer how my father got his disorder. It was not only Parkinson’s Disease, it was a lot, lot more.

During the first 2 years, his motor skills gradually declined; he can barely walk and can not spoon-feed himself anymore. Notwithstanding his 90-kg physique, we had to carry him wherever he needs to go. The most crucial part that happens every single day was  his going to the comfort room when he needs to go; it was a true labor of love that my mother had to go through. My mother is the extension of his body; she did all (as in, all) things for him. My mother bathed him, fed him, scratched all the itch for him, even picked the smallest food particle in his mouth. When my father sleeps, she had to wake up in the middle of the night just to move him in a different position. At times, I find it very scourging and agonizing; my mother’s patience was tested by fire. It was the marriage vows in skin and bones, “in sickness and in health“.

Came the time when the involuntary responses of his body did not function anymore; when my father blinks, his eyes won’t open anymore. His body functions just dropped all together. It tormented me to watch him slowly eaten by his illness. He only communicated with his eyes, nothing else. He looks at me and I see thousands of things he wanted to tell me; that pained me more than anything. I would just cry where he can’t see me.

During these trying times, nothing beats the support that a family can give. My father may not have said anything in his last breath, but deep in my heart I know he wanted to say thank you.

The memory of my father was relived when I came across a very touching story of a family who had gone through the same battling process with chemical poisons, but became successful. The story of Heather Von St. James.

Heather Von St. James was diagnosed with a rare cancer called Mesothelioma in 2005 just after her daughter Lily was born. It is a cancer caused due to her exposure to asbestos when she was a child. After she was diagnosed, she was given only 15 months to live, but she faced all her fears and had her lung removed. Until today she is cancer-free and very active in promoting awareness of the illness. Hers is a very inspiring story of hope, courage, and survival with the love and full support of her family, most especially her husband Cameron.

Her successful surgery was nicknamed “Lung Leavin’ Day” by her sister and they celebrated it every 2nd of February since then. It is now a growing community of what began as a family event in their backyard where they write all their fears in a plate and smash the plates into the fire. I haven’t tried that but I would really love to smash all my fears into something. I salute the couple for a wonderful celebration of life and love.

The “Lung Leavin’ Day” is a very beautiful commemoration to face all our fears and fight them all. To participate in the event, please click this link.

 

 

 

 

 

FROZEN REVIEW

I am watching the Disney animated movie Frozen for the nth time now because of my daughter. It is inspired from Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tale story Snow Queen. The soundtrack is amazingly beautiful and unforgettable; my daughter even memorized bits of the lyrics and the melody of the song. The theme song Let it go keeps on playing in my head over and over and over again. I smile at the thought of Idina Menzel who never got tired singing in my head. (haha)

From my 3-year old daughter’s perspective, it was fantastic, colorful, and musical. Although she does not understood the language, she was drawn to the extraordinarily witty characters; the royal gestures, the beautiful voices. My daughter even imitates the way Elsa and Anna sang, Olaf even. 🙂

From my perspective, it is a very entertaining animated film with a different twist. I love the fact that it is not the usual Disney animated movie that ends in “love that lived happily ever after”. It is the first Disney adaptation fairy tale I’ve seen that defied the meaning of true love; no knight in the shining armor, no fancy kisses from a prince, no love at first sight. It is very good movie that children can learn from – that true unconditional love can be found first and foremost in the family. I highly recommend the youngsters and those young at heart to watch this movie. Really beautiful.

FINDING MR. RIGHT

To want a perfect marriage is a perilous voyage and I know everyone wanted to share the journey with a real keeper. Mr. Right must show at least little signs of the list of should-be(s) below:

1.) Mr. Right should be seriously funny. It would be a journey less of a weight if there are more happy moments than sad. We,women, are more inclined to mood swings; a valid excuse for an intentional tantrum during a monthly agony. 🙂 During these trying times, Mr. Right has to have a full-packed humor to send his girl laughing and change moods from bad to good.

2.) Mr. Right should be unbelievably honest. Women have an extraordinary gift of intuition; we know when our man tells the truth or when he lies. I don’t need to expound on this, but might I tell every women to just follow their instincts. I did it myself. 🙂 Another perspective on this is that your man must tell you truthful comments on things he might find not good on you even if it hurts; for improvement.

3.) Mr. Right should be incredibly patient. We, women, always want to look good all the time and it is a very time-consuming activity. One way to tell a patient man would be during these moments. Men find these things very boring stuffs, but if your man just lets you take your time, then you got yourself a candidate – Unless, unless he’s the one who wants to do your make-up. That’s another thing! haha 🙂

4.) Mr. Right should be voraciously indulging. Oh wow, this one I love to look out for! He has to give anything I want. 🙂 Kidding aside, what I mean with this is that Mr. Right has to be your pillar of strength; he has to be someone who pushes you to give all your best in everything you do – at work, at home. He has to inspire you to do beautiful things. It really feels good to know that someone is always at your back when you need a tap of recognition or when you need someone to fall back on in times of failure and never judges you for it.

5.) Mr. Right should be undeniably faithful. And loyal, and pledges his total allegiance to you. If at any point in your relationship, you find moments where something fishy is going on, never find excuse to discount these moments; just because you love your man, you play blind and deaf to his wrongdoings. You will surely suffer big later. It would really, really hurt if you’ve already invested all your trust and love on an infidel.

6.) Mr. Right should be extremely loving. This should have been on the list first and foremost, but I meant to put this last as it is the summation of the list. Every item above means love. If he makes you laugh, if he is truthful in everything, if he is patient with you, if he inspires you to do good all the time, and if you feel he is totally faithful, then you got yourself a real keeper! 🙂 He loves you in every meaning of the word. 🙂

I might sound like a dependable love adviser and all – but, these are all the descriptions of my husband (haha). As I was going through the list, I was thinking every inch of how I see my other half. I found it so easy to make love advises after all. 🙂

My entry to the Weekly Photo Challenge: Treasure last week inspired me to write something about it on this week’s Weekly Writing Challenge: Object; all about the object on my left hand ring finger, my wedding ring. 🙂

 

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE AWARDS

I am such a rule breaker, but please be it known that I am also very grateful. I just don’t have the luxury of time to go through the rest of the rules of the awards. I am really thankful for my fellow bloggers who inspires me more than I inspired them.

To Normashilpi – Thank you so much for the Sunshine Award. I am really glad you enjoyed reading my posts; it keeps me going to write more inspiring thoughts.

 

 

 

To Swoosieque – Thank you so much for the Liebster Award. I love its English translations and I hope that I really lived up to them. 🙂

 

 

To runningbrook777 – Thank you so much for the Field of Flowers Award. I am really glad you share my thoughts on the conflicts my country is experiencing. 

 

 

 

I am deeply honored to receive these awards. I will get back on the rest of the rules later; I can not promise to perform them ASAP, but I will find time.

Again, my deepest gratitude. Flying kisses to you and you and you! 🙂

LOVE OR HATE MY JOB

I hear some workmates would say,” work should come first before family“; a priority of, more particularly, male workmates; the husbands and heads of the family. I think its true at one point. They have to make a living so that their family will be well-provided.

The start of the process was always for survival. With the rate of unemployment getting higher each year after every graduation month, no reason to complain at all. Whether the pay is good or not is a question not worth-entertaining, more so the question whether you love or hate the job. So long as the family survives is the first priority.

My parents supported me all throughout my College; my diploma was not a guarantee though, but it was a good starting point to land a good high paying job. But my first job 11 years ago was not very fulfilling. I resigned a year after. With only myself to fend for, no pressure at all if I lost my job anytime. My second job is where I spent the longest; 10 years now and counting and the boredom had started.

The job I am in now had a very promising career path in the beginning. Not really my dream job, but already very good enough for me. The first 4 years were just too good to be true, the next 4 were already only as good as it can get, the next years after that were only for survival. The trend of excitement and promise were declining. If not for the good pay, I’d have resigned. There were moments in between where I really loved my job because of some re-assignments, but when I get back to my real assignment, I get depressed. So many factors contribute as to the “why(s)” I started hating the job, but just can’t get vocal about it. It’s a mortal sin to complain. Work is the lifeblood of survival; no questions can ever be asked.

Then came my chance to jump to another station, I was very excited to apply for the position 2 years ago. It is with the same company but with a different environment and different tasks. God was too good to give me the job and this time, I can say, it’s my dream job. I am now waiting for my clearance to transfer to the new station.

All throughout my working years, I have a lot of realizations. I was told about work stages years ago when I started becoming a tax payer. These are as follows;

First stage – I am young and able-bodied but without enough resources; so I shall work with all my strength to earn and save money.

Middle stage – I am at mid-life, still with an able-body but this time, I should have savings and should have started to invest my earnings in business.

Last stage – This last stage can come at any point in life; not necessarily at a retirement age. It is the stage where I am already at a financial freedom – means that I can let go of my work and can still be self-sufficient until retirement; my investments already working for me.

These are simple and precise goals to live by and these can be our gauge to know if we are successful in our career and financial status. But more than wanting to be successful, I also like to point out “fulfillment”. We are surely very lucky if we are both successful and fulfilled because being successful doesn’t always mean that we are fulfilled. That’s what happened to me in my long working years; I was financially successful but found everything with less meaning.

It took me years to understand the joys of working. I have come to realize that if we aim for fulfillment first, success and everything else will follow. Fulfillment equals happiness; it is more than the value of money we get from working.

I DON’T WANT TO BE FRESHLY PRESSED!

So you really think I don’t want to be freshly pressed? No? Of course I do—want to be Freshly Pressed. But sometimes, thinking I could do it is far-fetched.

Everybody wants it; who am I not to want it. So, I googled the “hows” and found tips from the support page of WordPress on how to be featured. But, here are why sometimes I couldn’t care less:

Write unique content that’s free of bad stuff. I think I’m doing this all the time, but my topics may not be unique enough. All my posts are impromptu, so I don’t really hang long to brightly finish my posts. In short, I just write whatever pops anytime of the day; and with errors at that. The photo and writing challenges are really good prompts; makes me feel that I am already freshly pressed when my entries are “liked”, commented on, and linked. It’s a great cover for the real thing. 🙂

Have a point of view. I think I also have my own points of views in my posts, but I know they are not strong enough to stir controversies. I have a lot of provocative topics in mind; but just the thought of possible haters comments swarming in my comments posts makes me not to write about them at all. I don’t think I can stand comments if I rant something about some “foreigners owning Philippine Sea territories” or “Filipinos discriminated overseas”; hot topics. But, I write to make friends; not to make enemies. I know these are just possibilities, but I prefer to stay on the safe side. I made friends and its just the way how I want it to be. So, I say, no controversy for me just yet for today or on any day! 🙂

Don’t be afraid of your voice. I have my own little voice, but I am not always confident. But, yes, I am embracing it. I am always honest that I sometimes, if not most of the time, fall short of English words. haha. Just a trivia about me, when I am writing a post, I thought of it first in my “first” language then translate it in English when I am typing through the keyboard. I am always, always translating. I had to type fast because I might forget my ideas. 🙂

Paint us a picture.  Most of the time, I write on the spot; so I cannot always put visuals. All Freshly Pressed articles I have seen are all depicted. It dawned on me just now that maybe…this is the ultimate reason why until now I was not featured..hmm..hahaha. Just kidding. 🙂

Make it easy on the eyes. Oh my, this one is easy. I cannot write anything that’s too long because as I’ve said, I have limited English. But the sad part is, I could go on slowly translating; such irony. So sometimes I get so overwhelmed and write in long paragraphs and forget to break them down; surely, my post would look lousy. But my site now is so easy on the eyes; I changed the theme in one of the Zero to Hero challenges. I might get lucky this time! 🙂

Add relevant tags. I am doing this all time; I could not go wrong at this. I swear! 🙂

Write a headline we can’t ignore. So what do you think am I doing with this post? Do you really think I don’t want to be Freshly Pressed???? haha. I couldn’t agree more on this tip. I, for one, am always interested on the title before I click to read; it has to be catchy and something that speaks of the whole post. (Getting it from someone who doesn’t practice what she preaches. haha) I suck in making headlines and might be one “because” my post can’t attract attention. I have no hurt feelings, though. Honest. 🙂

Aim for typo-free content. This one I cannot perfect. With my fingers scrambling through the keyboard before I forget my thoughts, I am always typo-full. Sometimes I immediately press the publish button without even proofreading. I am always thankful of the “Edit” button; it is made for me. I am thankful more that editing is limitless; because even days after I publish a post, that’s when I proofread and every time I read my post like a second person, I always always find errors. 🙂

So, that’s it. I am my own critic. Going through this is so liberating. Now, I don’t have anybody telling me why I can’t be Freshly Pressed. haha

The truth is, I really want to. 🙂

GEN X VS. GEN ALPHA

   

Left side: Generation X – Me 🙂 , Right side: Generation Alpha- my daughter 🙂

My good old days were a far cry from the world my daughter was born and introduced. Back then, I only had plain wants of things and toys; playing with dolls, house, Chinese garters, “sungka“, “tumbang preso“, rainbow marbles, rubber bands and all stuffs with simple joys. Electricity was only a privilege; not a necessity, so never in my wildest of imaginations had the thought of ever laying eyes on anything “high-tech” struck me. I have a normal Philippine setting laid back life; I am said to be born a Generation X baby and I don’t even know what that meant until wikipedia. 🙂

As a child, my leisure is spent on playing with friends and communicating firsthand. Sometimes, I get bruises running on rice paddy fields and paint my face with mud when I stumble. Me and my brother would climb cotton trees and collect the seed pods; my grandmother used to make pillows from the fiber of the seed pods. We also climb manzanitas tree and compete with bees and birds to get the ripest cherry-like fruit. Getting wet and wild in the rain and chasing ducks in a muddy pond. We also used to tend to the backyard-raised goats, chicken, and rabbits of my grandfather. I grew up with a vast playground; I could just throw my cares away. My best days ever!

At age 15, I had my first encounter with a desktop computer, not mine though; I would not touch a key for fear I might damage something and I can’t afford it. Society dictates that owning that gadget makes one already an “it” person; a “can afford” – an “uptown” girl. It was already the most advanced technology I’d seen. 🙂

Came the Generation Alpha kids; tech-savvy kids. I am one guilty mom and how can I not introduce her to these gadgets when I am an outright example. It’s been a good 30 years or so for me, I could just imagine the Alpha Kids  20 years more from now, how more “high-tech” can they get.

The turnaround of the century made a massive leap in lifestyle. The internet is the biggest influence. I’m quite sad that my daughter cannot experience anymore the kind of growing up I’d been through; the learning from scratch, literally. There’s no stopping here now because she has got to go with the flow, I too. All I can do is limit her exposure. In anyway I can, I’d teach her the beauty of snail mail instead of e-mails, the long and personal talks instead of communicating through cellphones, and play under the sun with friends instead of being confined in a corner playing computer games.

There is no competition here; no Generation X versus Generation Alpha, only Generation X babies taking good care of the Generation Alpha babies’ future.

DAUGHTER, THANK YOU FOR ACCIDENTALLY DELETING THE CANDY CRUSH APP IN MY TABLET

sweet candy crush

I have no taste for electronic games since the conventional “brick games” 20 years ago. Back then, I got hooked on keeping up until the last level, but later realized what a little fool I had been to be burning candles for such non-sense. It was not an online game then, so my equal opponent is my own self to conquer all levels.

The computer games virtually evolved and its popularity took a quantum leap in the last 20 years, I observe. And now, I get blanked out sometimes when asked about what games I play in my social media account, because everybody is playing and seems to be enjoying it and I don’t. Simply because I don’t know any games and it does not interest me at all.

5 or 6 years ago, I tried playing “Farmtown”. The only good thing I found useful in “Farmtown” is: the re-living of my interactive connections with my childhood friends and classmates. I get to communicate with old and new acquaintances by asking if I could use a little help, or if they can be charitable enough to give me livelihood so I can buy things to cultivate my little virtual farm. But eventually, I got tired of asking help and my farm totally abandoned.

For almost 2 years, I receive incessant notifications in my Facebook account to join and play “The Candy Crush Saga.” Being a busy person of all sorts, I don’t want to buy time anymore just to waste for another “Farmtown-like” game.

I have never opened the application until 3 or 4 months ago. I tried to open it out of curiosity and found the serpent-like pathways in increasing levels and found the faces of my Facebook friends beside the levels they conquered. The background music was like hypnotizing me to try and taste the “candies”. So, I tried level 1. So simple and I’m not challenged at all. The voice behind “Sugar Crush!” at the end of a successful level is so hypnotizing as well, making me jump to level 2, then 3, then 4, and so on. The real battle begins when I already wanted to surpass everyone in the higher levels. I even used “cheats” to prolong my life and not ask “lives” from friends anymore. I became immortal, thus, the never-ending, time-consuming, and heartbreaking addiction of the “Candy Crush Saga”.

I knew a lot of my friends who were equally hooked as me, even research in the internet shows the same stats. Considering that me and my friends were only a speck of the World Statistics, it is so alarming. Not only the Candy Crush in particular but all popular online games applications that are easily downloadable.  

I give credit to the joined forces of portable electronic gadgets, social media, and virtual computer games in giving birth to my so-called “Global Love Crisis” called “indifference”. Such disturbing apathy is widespread at homes and even in workplaces around the globe.

When I am playing hard and focused, I lose track of time and persons around the house.  I sometimes cannot even remember what meal I just ate, “did I just did a breakfast or a lunch?”  My productivity lessened and my personal relationship was affected. I wouldn’t even be blogging now had I not realized how rubbish online games are!

I was in level 137 in the Candy Crush Saga when my daughter was playing with my tablet and accidentally deleted the app. In a heartbeat, I was furious of a cold turkey; I cannot contain the feeling of abruptly letting go of the long and hard earned levels. But I eventually became very thankful to the clouds that the app was accidentally deleted. I broke free from the virtual world and came back to earth. Indeed, a blessing in disguise. 🙂

I GOT AN AWARD!

Thank you Oma’s Heart for this heartwarming award. 🙂

I was already so happy with the number of my blog visits that can only be counted with my fingers, how much more can I take everybody’s “likes”? And now, this award!

The Sunshine Blog Award is: a prize to “bloggers who positively and creatively inspire others in the blogosphere”. Now that’s something. It’s not everyday that I am told that I have inspired someone. My imperfections make me strive everyday to find my purpose; not necessarily to please everyone, but just to affect a feel-good influence on someone who reads my experiences through my writings is already a feat, at least for me. And it is so nice to know that even in this big, big blogosphere, we can find friends!

If this is how this works:

“Any award winner has to follow these few rules. Thank the person who gave this award and write about it, most importantly include the first line above, and what the award means to you. Then, ~Post this award on your blog site. ~Nominate 10 fellow bloggers, and let them know you did so. ~Answer 10 questions about you.”

I have yet to accomplish some of these guidelines.

I will first enjoy the feel of being an inspiration for the time being 🙂

I WANT TO PLAY VOLLEYBALL!

I am such a great volleyball fan. I am watching a live game on TV now of FEU vs. ADU; the UAAP Season 76 League. 

While I am watching with so much tension, I don’t have a preferred team (haha). I am nervous and anxious for either team. That makes me the lone loser; I getting tensed when either team scores. 🙂 Nobody cared for my cheers except for my neighbors who are now curiously peering on me by the window.

I know volleyball that is why I always had weird reactions for anything that goes wrong in the games I watch. I played it in my younger years. I was trained with all the drills and plays, and I was educated with all the technicalities and the rulings; so I think I know a good play when I see one. 

But somehow, it is really different when you are actually playing the game and just watching and cheering from the outside. I say, there is more tension in watching, really. Analyzing it now why, I realize that when I am actually playing the game, I can release all the tension and I am in control. I am hitting the ball and make plays together with my team mates. Whereas, when I am only a spectator, just like now, I cannot contain my nervousness. It makes me want to play!

I stopped playing when I got injured and my parents won’t let me play anymore. But it didn’t stop me from loving the game. 🙂

 

DAY 12: INSPIRATION FROM TRUEBOOTS

I was browsing for featured articles on Freshly Pressed to find interesting posts I can comment on and caught sight of the title “Waiting at Tacloban Airport“. Aside from completing my day 11 Zero to Hero challenge, I was really glad to have found Trueboots’ post; a very heartwarming story of selfless service to humankind.

I felt pride and pity all at the same time.

I was proud of the fact that Trueboots replied to my comment, ” I felt honored to be able to help. So many wonderful people in the Philippines!”

Indeed, we are one of the friendliest races in the world. Being wonderfully friendly is an inherent trait of Filipinos; a trait that resounds to the world famous “Filipino Hospitality“. As the only Catholic country in Asia, it may be because of our strong faith that no matter what situation we may be in, good or bad, we always come out of it strong and fighting and smiling. The story of Trueboots is a testimony of my national pride.

Still, I feel sad. The situation in Tacloban was the worst than any one of us can imagine to happen in our life time. It’s like what we see in award-winning movies with the best cinematography; the total destruction of property, lives, and livelihood. It is a nightmare that we can so likely lose our very own selves in hopelessness and doubt; can make us question what we have done wrong to deserve such harsh unimaginable chastisement.

But because we are Filipinos, we can never lose hope and we will never lose hope. Our self-worth is stronger than any tragedy.

“She thanked me for what we did to help them, and then she bent down to open up her one single bag of possessions to pull out a bag of crackers she had.

“Please take some food,” she said, offering me what she had. I was already floored by her bravery–and her generosity just made me cry. Even though some crackers might’ve been a nice change from my days of eating cold MREs, I couldn’t accept her kind offer. But I gave both her and her husband a hug as I left them in line. And I’ll never forget their kindness and generosity in the midst of such a desperate situation.”

These very words of Trueboots moved me to tears. The bravery and generosity – true enough, because we are Filipinos.

PIECE OF CAKE!

Yesterday I found a Moist Chocolate cake recipe from this site:

http://foodess.com/2011/03/moist-chocolate-cake/

and created my own version. I invented my own butter-less chocolate frosting; it was really delicious. I took a picture of a slice; the most I can do with plating. 🙂

My daughter loved it so much. Her compliments really mean a lot to me. I am one happy mom! 🙂

THREE’S A CROWD

Philippine Jeepney

Yesterday afternoon, I went to a free seminar on Modular Aquaponics and Beekeeping. It was a very educational discussion for someone who is an Organic Farming enthusiast. I will try to discuss them in my upcoming blogs. For the meantime, I would like to share an interesting chat on my way home.

It rained that afternoon and finding a taxi is difficult, so I preferred to ride a jeepney. I was lucky enough to be seated at the front seat beside the driver; if I were at the back seat, it is way too crowded and could get my feet stepped on by other hurrying passengers. I was pushed nearer to the driver because a new passenger seated right next to me.

The new passenger was a short man, brown-skinned, and looked every inch a Filipino. I had no idea he was a foreigner until the driver asked him where he was going using our local dialect.

He looked at me perplexed and asked,”What did he say? What did he say?”

I translated the words to him, “The driver would like to know where you are going”

“Ah, Panacan“. He smiled and thanked me.

The jeepney driver was amused and had me asked the man more where he came from.

The man answered, “South Africa“. It fueled my curiousity, I asked him again, “Where in South Africa particularly?”

“In Cape Town“, the man smiled. He was amused as well, listening intently to my conversation with the driver using our local dialect and laughing a little in between. The South African added that he was living in Davao City for almost 2 years already and is in the process of finishing his thesis to gain his Master’s Degree in Special Education in one of the Universities here. When he finishes the course, he intends to go back to his hometown and practice his profession to help children with special needs.

“Why, of all places, here in Davao City?”, I asked him.

He said, he preferred a peaceful and friendly place so he chose to live and study in Davao City. I told him, “Good choice!”, and he smiled.

Again, the driver wanted to know how his living and school expenses were covered. The man told us that he started out with a Scholarship Grant from a politician in his hometown, but subsequently became self-supporting when the politician lost in a recent election.

Interesting enough, I told him about my father’s journey to Cape Town, Johannesburg, and in other South African cities when he was a seaman. The man felt sorry when I told him my father passed away in 2012.

He reacted when I told him that my husband was previously assigned to work in Khartoum, Sudan, Africa sometime in 2006-2007. “Wow, that place is so messed up! I wouldn’t go there myself”, he said shaking his head in disapproval.

When I arrived at my destination, I asked the South African to move and step down the jeepney so I can get off the front seat. I thanked the driver and thanked the South African for a nice chat.

It was a very interesting communication of three strangers from three different walks of life sharing a ride.

It had me smiling as I walked home.

HOW CROCS AND TIGERS MADE MY DAY!

In Catholic observance, January 6 is the Feast of the Epiphany; commonly known as the “Three Kings’ Day”, but was it supposed to be celebrated the way I did it! 🙂

My brother came to visit us all the way from Manila. He only had a week so we made the most of his first day, January 6th.

It was a very beautiful day to stroll around the city and visit tourist destinations. Together with my mother, we decided to go over to the Davao Crocodile Park.  It was only a 5-minute drive from the airport. The entrance fee was very reasonable at Php 200.00 for adult and Php 100.00 for children aged 2-12 years old. The inclusions are: a tour at the croc breeding areas and other exotic animals, the Tribu K’Mindanawan ( a cultural village where you can find souvenir shops, signature dishes at the restaurant, cultural shows and fire dancing shows only on Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays), and the Butterfly House.

My brothers took a pose with a preserved skeleton of a Saltwater Crocodile at the park’s entrance. 

We walked more around the entrance and found the rabbits; jumping from one place to another. I went closer so I can get a picture, but my daughter with me was scaring them away so I had to tell her to do a-tiptoe when walking and never make a sound, which she did. So, I got a nice picture of the bunny. We also found a little turtle near the pond with full of bright-colored fishes. The water in the pond looked cloudy/dirty but maybe it’s just the way it should be and the fishes liked it.

     

Then we bound for the Snakes area. Yikes, slimy snakes! I don’t have the slightest like for this reptile, but they have beautiful colors. I had observed left over skins from their recent shedding. Fronting the snakes’ haven was the orangutan; a friendly mammal indeed. The orangutan striking a pose!

  

Came the most awaited attraction, the Crocodile cages. I got to pose for a “selfie” pic at the Juvenile Stage Crocodile cage. I could just imagine myself falling over these sea of crocodiles! It gave me goosebumps and had me wondering, will these crocs be as scared as I am if indeed I fell in the water? Will they swim away or towards me? Either way, I don’t want to know! (haha)

Then there’s a crocodile named “Pangil” ( my local term for the English word “fang”) who was known to survive a good 200 million years and counting. The croc was under water; I was not able to take a good shot but I hope the pic will suffice curiosity.

  

“PANGIL”

We also got to meet the 300-kilo Bengal Tiger and the Siberian Tiger. The Bengal Tiger had this huge, huge body and colossal paws that even just the sight of it made us so scared. I remembered the tiger in the movie “Life of Pi“. It looked tame and domesticated, but the caretaker cautioned us never to attempt putting over our fingers on the screen cage. We observed the tigers just within a foot from the cage and, again, my imagination got wild; if not for the 25-mm thick cage, the encounter with the tiger could be as good as a “near-death” experience. With my daughter singing “Roar” by Katy Perry, I brushed off my horrid imagination and asked my family to hurry and go to other friendlier animals. But before we did, I faked a smile with the Siberian Tiger. Then hurried to left. That relieved me.

   

We found the Ostrich Ranch. My daughter shouted “Chicken”! I laughed and corrected her, “they’re Ostrich”. We were lucky enough to get an up close and personal encounter with the Ostrich because they seem to approach us. Look at how they gave the impression that they liked our presence; or maybe they are just curious and expected us to feed them something.

  

Fronting the Ostrich Ranch were the peacocks. My daughter is goofing around the peacock’s cage. We felt lucky to have seen one peacock showing off its beautiful bright-colored feathers. I think they love attracting visitors.

We then proceeded to the “K’ Mindanawan Tribe”. Here we found Ethnic Souvenir Shops, the place where the Fire Dance takes place and the “only in Davao City” aphrodisiac foods. I never tried tasting them so I cannot tell how it tastes. I don’t have the courage to try (haha); my taste buds retreating. But for those who would like to visit Davao City, I would recommend trying these delicacies. Travelling all the way to come here, I bet you would not like it to miss it for the world, yes? Just a little trivia about the Civet coffee: It came from Civet dung.

     

Then we headed to our last destination of the tour: The Butterfly House. A 30-seconds drive from the croc park. There were only a few butterflies in the house. Or maybe, some of them in camouflage like the one in the second picture; it looked just like the flowers around it.

   

We wrapped up our day with a sumptuous dinner at the Jack’s Ridge Restaurant. It is a 15-minute drive from the Croc Park. That short distance we traveled was enough to climb a mountain to see the whole Davao City downtown. From our dining table, we can see the very scenic view of the city. The city lights are very beautiful at night; a really amazing sight.

   

All in all, it was really a fun-filled day. A gift in itself ( from the Three Kings,maybe? ) 🙂

DAY 3: WHAT MOVED ME TO BLOG

a gift of balloons in the dark

I have a very archetypal working mom lifestyle. Busy, busy, busy. My movements in a day were all time bounded. I write to stop and smell the flowers. I feel happy when I write; a breath of fresh air; a gift of balloons in the dark. It made me discover a little more of myself everyday. It’s my new Facebook.

I started out clueless and with a vague purpose. My first blog was a picture of my daughter with the title “This is my joy“. Visiting it now made me realize how cool it was to start a blog; full of joy and inspiration. From there, I collected all the experiences I could get from my imaginary bank and weaved my own little posts from time to time. The moment my posts were “liked” was a turning point; it was very overwhelming.

The next thing I knew, I was writing my personal stories. I had lots and lots of them. I strongly believe that no one in the world walked through my same footprints; I am unique, thus, all the lessons I learned easy or the hard way were all worth-telling. To share them for the world to read is my joy.

I can sometimes be opinionated and emotional. Writing my blogs keep me grounded; when things get blurry sometimes, I close my eyes, shake my hands, and write my views. It gives me freedom; an avenue of my self-expression.

Sometimes I feel patriotic; I always am. My country experienced the worst environmental devastation last year. Seeing the world unite was always a sight to behold; an acknowledgement of a border-less world. The help the Philippines got from countries around the world was enormous and well-received with a grateful heart. One more reason for me to be passionately writing about my country is my attachment to my birthplace, Davao. 

To this day, it is very heartwarming for me to have come a long way from my first blog. I am very pleased with the attention that my little blog was drawing. I have proven that even the littlest of voices can still be heard.

I started blogging with no definite reason, but I was inspired by a lot of the bloggers I followed; I hope I can inspire, at least, “one” someone out there, too.

Special thanks to WordPress.

DAY 1: INTRODUCING MYSELF

“Why would anyone care to read my post?”

My difficulty starts in that very question. I have a lot of qualms and confidence issues with regards to writing posts. But I cannot set aside my need to write. It’s like a dawning of a new day refusing to quit. Inevitable. Having been born and raised in a place which is a melting pot of multiple cultures, I can say that I am neither too sophisticated nor too naive; I have the best of both worlds. So much so that the need to share my thoughts and stories in my own simple English is so liberating. It just took me a really long while to gather my thoughts and realize the only thing I can do about my ideas is to put them in writing, with no intention to pin interest on anyone at all.

I love to read books. As young as 10 years old, I finished reading the first 60 books of “Nancy Drew Mystery Stories” by Carolyn Keene. I even dream of being a detective like Nancy Drew. She was my childhood idol.

I also love arts and crafts. I started making cross stitched designs when I was in High School. Aside from reading books, I burn my free time stitching fairies and angels and little children. Some of my finished projects were displayed as wall decorations in my home. Here are photos of them. I have 4 more designs that were not yet framed and one still unfinished. Making them was so considerably laborious, notwithstanding the back pains and sore eyes. But they are all really worth it. Just seeing them everyday in all corners of my house makes me feel so accomplished.

:        

I am also a frustrated pastry chef. I want to learn how to bake, but I just don’t have the luxury of time. Last Christmas, I indulged myself in a self-explanatory book on how to bake and came up with my first ever Sans Rival Cake. It looked messy (haha). I did not took the recipe seriously; substituting some ingredients when I can’t find them in our local stores. Nonetheless, it was well received and appreciated by my “customers”; my family ( I heed them not to complain, or else 😉 )

I am a lot of things; above are just some of me 🙂 You will know more of me if you care to read my posts 🙂

ARE WE ALL CURSED?

broken homes, broken things

Curse has a very long history. I have heard so many stories how “curse” can inflict broken things and miserable lives passed on from one generation to another. Notwithstanding its spiritual and psychological explanations, I would like to share my personal insights on the modern day “Generational Curse” of broken families in particular.

I would like to discriminate the effect of “curse” and “personal choice” on one dysfunctional family I knew. Well, dysfunctional in a way that the parents separated and found new partners and the children inherited the same plight same as their fore families before them. What bothered me is that nobody in the family even minds to talk sense and uphold what is right and correct what is wrong anymore. Everybody were already used to broken families and bearing children out of wedlock. They have already gotten numb and unconscious of the examples they had set for their children; introducing their new partners to one another and to the children without a hint of guilt. Fueling the vicious cycle of broken hearts and things.

Might be that it is the inherited unbroken generational curse presenting itself in the unending cycle of their broken families. Might be that their curse is to never find a lasting relationship. But, how effective is a curse if it can’t inflict pain anymore? From my personal point of view, the members of that particular family were not sad; they are the same happy persons who don’t looked problematic at all. They had accepted each one and had moved on with their own lives and had not gotten tired of finding happiness despite the failed marriages.

I would also like to point out our power to make personal choices. Given the circumstance of the dysfunctional family above, I believe it is still a big role that each member of the family got to choose for themselves their own path. Might be that everything is coincidental; that everything that had happened was based on each other’s collective decisions and was concluded as a whole to be their family’s “curse” by their viewers like me. They chose to take the risk to love someone, but got hurt in the end and separated. I don’t think its right to take that against them, to say they were cursed at the very least.

We are the guardians of our own decisions, so to speak. And it is our every right as free men and women to want what we want and need what we need whatever the consequence. The only thing with making decision is the influence of things that surround us that we see as a norm. In my example family, they tend to attract similar deciding factors because of what they usually see in their relational environment;  thus, the same end game, the same “cursed” fate. I think the fault lies in the bad decisions; the not learning from mistakes and not making super extra effort to rise above and beyond their usual expected failures we call “curse”.

At some point in our lives, we are all dysfunctional; hypothetically, we are all cursed. We are entitled to our own opinions and we love to comment on other people’s lives just so we could boost our morale from our own mishaps. The moment we brand someone as cursed makes us cursed ourselves. What we say about other people is a reflection of our own personality. Who are we to judge and say they are cursed?

By the definition of “curse”- any expressed wish that some form of adversity or misfortune will befall another person; it is not something that just popped out from nowhere, but it is something man-made and it would seem to me that a “curse” is usually made out of vengeance or retaliation. It is already as bad as it sounds, so is the originator and the people who believed so themselves.

But, whether a curse is true or not, I am entitled to my own opinion. So, spare me the spat. I would still like to believe that we are of our own making. We make our decisions, therefore, we are in control. So, are we all cursed? I say, not at all.

“KUMPYANSA”

My country is a Spanish colony for 300 years. The etymologies of most of the words in our dialect are from Spanish words, but we made them more of “our” words by incorporating our ethnicity in it. I would like to introduce some words in my dialect on this particular blog and my blogs to come, just for the sake of entertainment and a little “education”. I would like to start with this word;

“KUMPYANSA” – From the Spanish word “Confianza” which means “Confidence“. It is pronounced as spelled.

That particular word, although meant to be taken positively by its English translation, connotes a bit more negativity in our dialect. Often, that thin line of difference makes a huge impact as I have witnessed many bad situations gone worse due to this so-called “confidence” resulting from lack of consciousness and awareness of even the littlest things around us and even with ourselves. The word that seeps through the fissure between the words “confidence” and “stupidity” is “kumpyansa” or shall I say, the “stupid confidence”.

One interpretation of it is that it is the summation of a lot of situations where in one person assumes that another person already understands and knows what to do, when to do, or how to do without giving instructions to that person at all, or worse, even telling that person list of instructions, which still were not followed. When the bad thing happens, the first words uttered would be “I wish I knew…“. The second would be “Had I known, I should never have…” Regrets are always at tail-ends. That is how “stupid confidence” always ends up.

I bet every single person on earth at one time in their lives experienced trusting someone to do things for them but failed, some have relied on it for their lives. One perfect example is when a person is crossing the street. The person is very “confident” when the green lights in the form of a walking pedestrian is already a “go” to cross and at same time a circle red light a “stop” for vehicles. And from nowhere, came a driver speeding through under the influence of “whatever” and suddenly hit that person head-on at the pedestrian lane. The person crossing the street couldn’t care less because he is “kumpyansa” that all drivers of the vehicles would halt at red light. Naturally, the driver will be filed a reckless driving case, but the person crossing the street might already be dead. The person died not because he was hit by the car, but because of his “kumpyansa“.

My experiences commonly sprung from my workplace. At some point, I am “kumpyansa” that my workmate already gave my report to our boss weeks before the deadline. Came the due date, I was told to go the office to steer clear of something. I got to the office only to find that my report was nowhere near my boss’ table. I confronted my workmate and she just answered me carelessly,”I thought you just want me to file them for you“. She neatly filed them in a folder and placed inside the cabinet. I recalled that I never gave her instructions; I just gave her the file assuming that she already knew what to do with them. The wide-eyed me felt so frustrated that I just turned my back thinking, “If I only knew…“, No one to blame but me and my “kumpyansa.”

That silent danger called “kumpyansa” can make the worst of everything. It can be life-threatening or can put your job at risk or anything for that matter, but it can be proactively treated. I cannot find its most accurate single English term, but I am trying my best to relay the message one way or another through the example situations. No one had to suffer the consequence and regret, had one been thinking in advance.

To avoid the bait of “kumpyansa“, one must always expect the worst at any time and any place. Be conscious and assess risks on even the trivial things like overhead photo frames. An earthquake might happen anytime, making one a candidate for injury by falling objects. Second, always communicate. Better to be frank than be sorry. Third, a little faith won’t hurt, but never fully trust anyone to do things for you without giving them firm and clear instructions, and always hear out the answer to the question,”Do you get me?”. Always, always second guess. Lastly, pray that after all your proactive actions, nothing can go wrong anymore. If its HIS will, then so be it.

It can be a good thing, though, when taken as a caution. Commonly we would say,”Ayaw kumpyansa“, in which “ayaw” means “no”. The whole of it would literally mean “No confidence”, or in other words, “Be vigilant always because kumpyansa doesn’t have an over-the-counter medicine just yet. 🙂

PARENTS VS. DAUGHTER

From the movie “Meet the Parents”, courtesy of Universal Studios

It is a universal truth that parents always want the best of everything for their children and that includes choosing the best man for a daughter to marry. Nobody can ever be good enough. I despise that thought of being told what to do and what to feel and for whom to feel what, until I became a parent now and already filling the shoes of my parents.

The whole “you and me against the world” thing might sound too theatrical and corny, but it is a serious reality inspiring love stories from poems, movies, book, and so on. I experienced firsthand how awkward it felt to be in the middle of such situation. My ex-boyfriend was not the man my parents wants me to be with. The “Romeo and Juliet” situation was becoming real, only that we did not end up killing ourselves.

“How far should a person go in the name of true love?”   ― Nicholas Sparks, The Choice

It is as far as breaking rules and be dishonored by parents, sometimes. But the real question is, how can one know that it’s all worth fighting for? It need not be that difficult to answer if you already decided for the answer before that question pops. Just to be clear on this, I say, Love is a choice. We both made the decision to be truly in love, so it was not difficult for us to fight for each other and decide to wake up and be beside each other every morning for the rest of our lives. For us, at least, that worked out fine.

Back then, I tried to understand what my parents thought of my love life. Why it was so easy for them to judge my boyfriend and foresee my future with him. Maybe, they were too proud of me that no man can ever be worthy to have me or, maybe, they belittled my capacity to decide for myself and still see me as their little girl. Either way, it hurts.

My ex-boyfriend, now my husband, made extra effort to win my parents over. I need not tell him to do it, but his initiative to do so made my decision more certain. He never said anything bad and never was there a moment he hated them. He was working overseas, so he was not around all the time. That made things easier because my parents thought we broke up.

That chapter of my life are where my life’s most deciding moments are. I am a believer that “Love” itself is above everything else in this world. It is the very reason why we breath, eat, sleep, work, and so on. Everything we live for is rooted in it. Further, when we decide to live it, we make ourselves vulnerable to pain . It can be deceitful and blinding. You have to be in the right frame of mind to welcome a serious relationship and decide to fight for it. That one, I did. I took the risk to have faith in my boyfriend and at the same time prepared to get hurt in the process. Because at the end of the day, I believe that it will always be “better to have loved and lost than not have loved at all” ( Alfred Lord Tennyson’s poem In Memoriam:27, 1850). It was very difficult a decision because it involves hurting the persons closest to me, my parents. Through time, I was glad to have fought for that one thing called “love”. On parents vs. daughter, I think I won. But I don’t want to think of my successful love story as making fools out of my parents, I am just happy to have made the right decision.

Now that I am a parent of an only daughter, I made some realizations. I now feel my parents, but I have lessons learned. I know my parents loved me and I truly understand that they only want the best for me. When my daughter grows up, I still want to be that parent who wants the best of everything for her daughter, but I would like to add that I also want to be respectful of her decisions no matter what. 

3 EARTHQUAKE SURVIVORS DIED IN FIRE

3 Bohol quake survivors find fiery death in Davao Oriental

Now, this is irony. Finding a new life leads to death.  3 earthquake survivors last October 15, 2013 moved in to a new place and died there in fire 50 days after. In short, one cannot cheat death. When it’s written, it has to happen one way or another. A real life “Final Destination”.

WHAT MY SORE TONGUE TAUGHT ME

a not so gore picture of my sore tongue

This last few days I was suffering from a canker sore on my tongue. I bit my tongue and it apparently turned into a canker sore. It was so painful especially every time I eat. The last few days of suffering turned out into something I can be thankful for:

First, my eating portions reduced. This, actually, is a medical advise I was given 2 weeks ago by our company doctor. Very difficult to follow. Accordingly, my Body Mass Index is unfortunately nearing the overweight range. I had to thank my canker sore that I was eating less. 🙂

Second, I had time to reflect. It is so painful to even speak because my sore tongue would brush against my teeth every time my mouth moves. So, I was so silent this whole time. I used to be very open and opinionated and so love telling my tales for the day. But this time, my silence surprised everybody in the house. I can now see things I have not seen even in my own home, some trivial, some really important. I learned to appreciate silence and reflect on things. 🙂

Third, I learned what vitamins and minerals my body lacked. It is not until I am suffering from this plight that I researched preventive measures and became really conscious about foods I eat. I learned that my mouth should have a balanced Ph and acidic foods should be taken in moderation. I have also discovered painful remedies that can be done at home from my researches and from family and friends who have successfully tried their own remedy. 🙂

Fourth, from my third lesson, I literally championed the saying “No pain, no gain”. I tried some of the home remedies and they were very very painful. Would you believe I tried putting some sea salt directly on my sore. I just closed my eyes and let my tears fell. The pain is unimaginable, but I let the pain take its course because I did a personal choice to be healed. 🙂

Lastly, apart from the second lesson I learned, I also knew how it felt to be a “person with disablity”. I now felt the things experienced by a mute person. That moment when you really want to say something and you cannot say it is just so frustrating. The strength to accept the disability by a mute person is just admirable. Having experienced it temporarily made me think and made me very thankful and appreciative that God had made me able to speak. 🙂

I, therefore, thank my very painful and weight reducing canker sore.

DREAMING OF SNOW IN CHRISTMAS

Oh how I love Christmas time! Christmas carols, gifts, fireworks and all, but snow.

If there’s such an award as to a place around the world celebrating the longest Christmas, that would be my country. “September 1st” marks the start of our Christmas Season. I can perfectly remember my fond memories 30 years back.

Inside my head, I can hear children’s carols. The children would jump from one house to another to ask for an advance Christmas treat in exchange for their entertainment. Their accompaniment is called a shaker; a musical instrument made up of flattened bottle crowns stringed through its hole in the middle. These children would risk their lives because they could sometimes run into homes with guard dogs on the loose.

I actually have experienced it once, without my mother knowing. You can just imagine how fast me and my friends ran. It was supposed to be fun because we get to raise funds to buy gifts, but the snarling dogs made the nightmare of it. Remembering it now never fails to put a smile on my face.

And then there’s firecrackers. I have this vague memory of an incident where my older brother lighted a firecracker called “watusi“. The firecracker ran wild and got inside our mother’s right ear. Oh how mad my she got. I used to love seeing my brother getting a scold :-).

In the home town of my mother, selling and playing with firecrackers are permitted by the Local Government when the “ber” months start. But here in Davao City, a local ordinance was passed banning firecrackers of any form since 2001.  And so we go to my mother’s on Christmas and New Year’s Day where there are display of fireworks.

And then there’s the Christmas decors. I just so love looking at beautifully crafted themed decorations at the malls, parks, and private residences. Even in my home, I never fail to put up my mini christmas tree every year. I throw in lots of colored balls and some glitters and lights.  Voila! I got me a very nice Christmas tree. That’s the one in the picture:-) My daughter would want to turn off the fluorescent light so she can appreciate the colored dancing lights on our mini Christmas Tree.

And then there’s gifts. Oh how I love surprises. I could recall how much of a simple mind I have 30 years back. I was so into thinking that Santa Claus really rewards the nice ones. I was told to hang socks at the door because come 12:00 midnight, Santa Claus would come and fill my socks with gifts. I later came to know, it was only my mother who sneaks in at 12:00 midnight. I plan to do the same with my daughter so she’ll behave and not get naughty whole year round 🙂

And then there’s food. Indulgence.

And then there’s hearing mass 9 days before Christmas Day. Here in the Philippines, as a predominantly Catholic country, we have a tradition called the “Nine Mornings“, locally known as “Simbang Gabi“, where all catholic followers hear mass at 5 o’clock in the morning starting December 16 until December 25. It was supposed to be a way of preparing one’s self for the coming of the Saviour; but it became a fad that if you wish for something on the first day, it will come true on the ninth day. I think its just a strategy to lure the followers to complete the tradition. As for me, I never completed the “Nine Mornings“, but still my wishes came true 🙂

And then I dream of snow. It never snow where I live. I can only see it in movies, pictures, and postcards. I just want to feel how cold it can get. I could imagine myself rolling over it.  It was a childhood dream that I have not gotten over with. For me, Christmas will always be synonymous with snow. The child in me will always be “Dreaming of a white Christmas“, from a song.

5.7 tremor hits Davao City | Latest Breaking News | Philippines

5.7 tremor hits Davao City 

Felt this one earlier this morning while still in bed. I thought someone was trying to wake me up. Praying and hoping for zero after shocks. Please be upon us, Lord.

RIP PAUL WALKER

Vin Diesel Posts Touching Tribute to Lost ‘Fast & Furious’ Co-Star Paul Walker | Yahoo Movies – Yahoo Movies.

Such a short, short life. God needed more angels in heaven. God chose you so you will sin no more.

Thank you for sharing your talent. RIP Paul Walker.

MY GRANDFATHER’S SECRET

It was a gloomy day. I was mourning for a very beloved departed, my Grandfather.

His wake was serviced at a local funeral home. Visitors kept coming, some familiar faces I thought I knew, but I could not remember when or how we met. Most of them were friends and relatives. Except for this one middle-aged looking man, crying in a corner. I looked at his direction, seeing his emotions more pained than mine, questions ran through my head. He slowly walked to where my grandfather laid. Covering his misty eyes with a hanky. But I can still see his emotions now more pronounced as he was nearing him. He was comforted by, my guess, his wife.  I can hear him whimpering. Soft sobs of longing.

Looking at him settled now, I can clearly see the resemblance. He was the spitting image of my grandfather.

“He is your mom’s brother,” someone whispered to my ears. I turned to see the one who dropped the bomb, my mother’s cousin. My heart beat fast. I could not believe what I was hearing.

I looked at my mother as she sat, surrounded by whispering relatives with peering glances on that particular man. My mother, emotionless and impassive. Indecisive of what to entertain first, the pain of loss or the shocking disbelief of an “instant” brother.

My mother is an only daughter, or so she thought. All her life, having a sibling never occurred to her. She was never told she had until that one very fateful day. The man was my grandfather’s love child with another woman.

Flashbacks came pouring in. I can recall, my grandfather was the sternest looking man I’ve seen ever. He seldom says anything about everything, but he took care of us when my father was away at work. Having had an only daughter, he looks at us his grandchildren with so much love.

I was trying to recall instances in the past of any passing chance that my grandpa, in any way, told us about his secret. I don’t remember anything except that in his death bed, he confessed to the priest. A confession that has something to do with his weakness as a human being.

Everything sank in perfectly for me and for my mother. We felt betrayed. We felt pain. But we were overwhelmed by the thought of that man, watching him now how he survived life without a father. My grandfather never honored him as a son.

I was told that years back, when the man was still young, he would visit my grandpa at his workplace. He would just watch his father from a distance, afraid that he would hurt himself more if my grandpa dismisses him. I can now understand the man’s whimpers of longing for a father. Only during the wake had the man told grandpa how he loved and honored him as his father when grandpa can dismiss him no more. What can be more painful than the man’s pain.

Grandfather’s secret was well kept for 45 long years until his death bed.

SINGLE WORKING MOM OF BABY TO TODDLER TIPS 101

I am not a single mom per se. It’s just that, my husband is working abroad. Ever since our daughter was born days short three years ago, I was left to attend to her while I still work. Here are some self taught things I learned on how I became a successful-in-my-own-way career-woman and a mother at the same time;

Whether it is imperative or a choice to work, don’t feel guilty. First and foremost, this is the mindset I wish to express to single parents doing a living. In my experience, I have a choice not to work for a living because my husband supports our family but, either way, don’t feel guilty for not having to attend to your child 24/7. It is not setting aside a responsibility and being selfish. It is creating a life of balance. When your child grows up, she will understand self-reliance through you.

Always know the background of the nanny you hire. You can never do things at the same time, unless you decide to quit your job. You have to bring in someone that you and your family knew for already a long time. The nanny can be a distant relative or a family friend. I also suggest you find a nanny older than you. An older nanny is motherly and can love your baby like her own. I was just so lucky to have someone I really trusted.

Never bring your work at home. The only time your mind is set on working should be the moment when you leave home for work and the moment you step out of your office, nothing else. The whole time when you are home, be a “mother”. Spend the whole quality time cuddling and talking to your baby. Tell her you missed her so much the whole day, make her feel safe. Familiar voices keep your baby feel secured and loved. Your baby missed your distinct smell for 8 to 9 hours when you are away, she will surely know that you are already around.

Provide everything your child needs. You work to provide. When you left for work, see that your baby is lavished with all her needs and comfort. Call home from time to time when you’re not very busy.

Be self-indulgent once in a while. So much for trashing the guilt feelings, it won’t hurt to reward yourself to sometimes do things you love. Like me  when I have the time, I get together with some friends and play badminton or have dinner . I sometimes bring my baby to the venue and have her socialize as well.

These are just some of the things I find effective. My daughter never had a moment when she doubted my love and affection. She even says goodbye every time I left home for work. At her age, she understands why her parents have to work. That to me is sweet success as a single parent.

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE “LIKES”

Wow! This is serious stuff for me. 🙂 I have never been “Liked” with my writings until I decided to really blog 2 weeks ago. I don’t even have a background in creative writing, much less that I don’t speak the language I use in. My only purpose to start making posts was to have an outlet of my inner self; my thoughts and my stories worth-telling. I won’t even mind if nobody reads my posts, since I know that there are millions more better ones out there.  Some might not find my pages attractive and some might get bored reading my posts. Please also notice that I have not even linked my WP account with my Facebook Account. I am close to shy that my closest friends would find me ranting about with my erroneous English grammar 🙂 Nonetheless, I am happy and proud of myself. I have such shallow happiness.

When I decided to start my blog, I don’t have the faintest idea how to start. But, thanks to the very user-friendly features of WP. I have initially set-up my blog. Right now, I am still learning how to go about beautifying my blog and I think, I still have not done much out of it.

As I browse through the pages of the bloggers who liked my posts, I am in awe. They have such wonderful websites, great writers. I will always be overwhelmed and grateful. I still have much to learn, but your “likes” gave me the push to keep writing. It feels really, really good. Thank you for making my day! Cheers!

REMEMBERING MY GREAT PAPA

I would like to share a short story of how great my father was.

I always knew that he lives with the saying “Time and tide wait for no one”, and that he loved his family so much. I could cry whenever the thought crosses my mind. I could even cry now, writing this. He was a seafarer through and through for 36 long years. His primary goal was to keep his family well provided, at the expense of his loneliness.

It was days before Martial Law was declared in the Philippines in 1972 that he was deployed as a neophyte seafarer.  He was then only twenty years old, a fresh College graduate with only his hopes and dreams in his pocket. He had a long distance love affair with my mother. My mother used to tell us that my father would send her lavish gifts from places he’d been to. Happy memories would keep coming, more particularly on the day when they took marriage vows in a simple courtroom ceremony. All the times that my mother brought us into the world, my father was never there. He was always sailing. I had not asked him what he thought of during those times, but I know he regretted for missing to witness our first breath of air.

My siblings and I grew up seeing our father just a month or two in a year.  A month more, if we got lucky. We barely knew him all his life. But that short time gave me the longest to earn lessons I can ever learn in my lifetime, the beauty of self-discipline. He was always conscious with time management and wants all work done in perfection. He was the great disciplinarian. I remember when I was around ten years old, he would wake me up at 4 o’clock in the morning and give me tasks, like cleaning the house, and that I should finish them before I go to school. He will get mad if I don’t. I would sometimes hate him for that, but as I grow old I realized all he taught me was all I need to be self-dependent and strong.

On his last sail in 2008, he was diagnosed with a degenerative disease, according to medical practitioners, common to seafarers due to exposure on certain dangerous chemicals aboard the ship.  We never saw it coming because every time he goes to work, he would always pass all medical examinations. He lost control of his motor skills and eventually all systems in his body. When he can still speak, I asked him if he had any regrets all his life. He answered me with a smile, “I have traveled around the world for free than any man in their lifetime, what more can I ask.” True enough, but my heart felt what he really wants to say. I know that if he can only turn back the time and spend all his time with his family, he would. His illness had made his longest stay with us ever, until he died in August of 2012.

The life of my dear father was too narrow that any man wouldn’t dare to go through. His sacrifices too big to contain. Sometimes it pains me to think that my father finds happiness in his sacrifice. He had sent us all, his children, to college and had ourselves degrees. But my father was my biggest teacher. He gave up his life, so we can live.

MY SUCCESSFUL JOB INTERVIEW

I just had a successful job interview. The job I applied for just has a more challenging description than my current job, but I am with the same company. As with any other interviews, I expect it to be grueling to set my mind prepared for the worst of questions and then hope everything will follow smooth as I planned it.

I arrived early at the venue and met all my fellow applicants. We had same nervous and competitive auras, as all of us compete for this one particular job. There were six of us. Each one was given thirty minutes interview time.

In my interview, when the first question was thrown, I answered calmly with all smiles. I was building momentum. And from that first Q, I can feel the worst is over. A lot more questions followed, a test of fire, but I knew I’ve won over my fear and success is an understatement of how I truly felt. The interview was not at all, but a conversation. There were exchanging of ideas and the nervousness was gone. It really helped to pray and pray and pray before everything else.

Come months later, I was told I got the job. Congratulations to me 🙂 And right now, I am just awaiting for the release of the official order of my transfer to the new office. All smiles, all thanks to the One.

HOW MORE UGLY CAN UGLIER GET TO MAKE IT THE UGLIEST?

The levels of ugliness confuse me, as much as the word “ugly” itself. I don’t think ugliness even exists. Each one of us is beautiful inside out. We just have to look for ourselves because sometimes, we are blinded by comparing ourselves with others and by being always conscious of how others see us.

One funny experience I had when I was still in school, I had this group of girl friends. Some of our classmates thought we are pleasant looking (ahem :-)) except for one. One day, a male classmate itched his way to ask me straight faced why we hang out with this “ugly” curly-haired girl. I looked at him dumbfounded for seconds and laughed. When I gained composure, I asked him back, “why do you care so much?” I don’t think his query deserves a very good long answer. Such non-sense. From that time on, I pitied him.

Before me and my ex-boyfriend (now my husband :-)) dated virtually, he used to ask his family back in the Philippines to send him pictures of girls they knew that he might be interested to date. His sister sent him pictures, including mine. His first reaction was to compare the looks and the smile. He chose me. Looking back now, I realize how looks impact on the decision made. Had it been that I was the one who looked ugly in the picture, I would not have a love story to tell now :-). But, through time, my ex-boyfriend realized that I’m not just a pleasant face in the picture, or so he thought :-).

I came across a Classified Ads section of a local newspaper and found bits of ads on Jobs Hiring. One qualification I found common on those ads was “Pleasing Personality”. “Why do they have to need that?”, I thought to myself. If I were the applicant, I’d second guess the rest of the Job responsibilities and before they reject me, I will reject them first!

I had my fair share of experiences and happy to have looks above average (haha! forgive me, its just my husband who thought so :-)). But then again, I find it so unbecoming to consider the looks when making decisions and when making friends. Good looks fade with time, but never the good heart that is under it.

THE STORY OF MY LEFT MIDDLE FINGER AND SPORTSMANSHIP

I was once an athlete. When I was in my third year in high school, I joined my school’s volleyball varsity team. We trained for months and I even skipped classes just to train. I fell prey to the need to excel in the game so I will be chosen to advance in the next regional athletic meet. I felt the need to show off. It was during this one fateful game when I got me injured. I had fever and I was clamoring for the pain in my left middle finger. I went for a check-up at a local hospital and the doctor declared broken ligaments. The first few months were denial months. People ask me why my finger won’t straighten, I told them it will in a few months. But, it was nowhere near straight until now. Everyday I wake up, it reminds me that I was once a sportsman, only injured.

But being a sports enthusiast once gave me lessons in life. The attitude to push the limits and won’t settle for mediocrity are some of these. I trained hard. It gave me confidence and determination later in my life. Way back, I also remember the camaraderie. I learned to be a team player, with friendship forged in trust with team mates.

It also made me a risk taker. In a game, the coach dictates the set-up and strategies, but most of the time, the agreed plan never pans out. So, during the game we take risks, in any way, with the purpose to defeat the opponent. And then we give all up to fate.

I also became prayerful. In every game, we start with a prayer. Our prayers were not always wanting to win, we pray to have the will to win and the courage to accept defeat. That, i think, is the mark of a true sportsman.

WHY MY DAUGHTER ‘S NAME IS “FAITH”

Names have untold stories. One of which is my daughter’s. I look at her and I see the hundreds of years the world have waited to see her. All stories woven to create the loveliest in my eyes on the day she was born. And I called her “Faith”.

My life’s journey for the most part of it was really interesting, like everyone else’s. When I was just around three months old, I contracted an intestinal illness that almost had me. So young as I am, I don’t know how near-death felt. All I heard were stories from my mother. She said that the whole family almost gave up on me, except her. I had the worst condition she’d seen, with needle prints all over my frail body and my head from injections and intravenous fluids to keep me alive. My parents had to transfer me from one hospital to another in the hope of finding remedy from second, third, and so forth opinions from other doctors. Came the last one, who only had a clinic. My mother told me the story of that very day they brought me to this doctor. After a few hours of my confinement, I responded to the medications. The doctor declared that I would be all right and even named me “Miracle Baby”. That was my first encounter of Faith, imprinted in my subconscious.

Then there’s this one time when I was only five years old. I was bumped by a light vehicle. The driver was drunk. I was rushed to the hospital, blood all over my head and face. My mother thought my eyes were taken out during the impact. It was, again, a near-death experience. But I was not conscious about it. As far as I can remember, all I thought of was the blood and the pain. I had a two inches stitch in my forehead. My whole body was checked for any injuries and contusions but they found only that and nothing else. How lucky could I get, right?

When I was with child, everyday I thank the Lord for the gift and privilege of Motherhood. I had prayed hard for a safe delivery. Came the day when I labored for almost seventy two hours, I felt the most excruciating pain I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. When my baby was out and I saw her for the first time, I saw Love. She was Love in person. All I’ve been through was so worth it when I had my baby. Now I understand the strength of a woman, more so the strength of a mother. And more clearly, I can say that my strength was drawn from my Faith.

Looking back now, all my experiences and all the person that I have become is not by chance. God had been very generous to give me the gift of Faith from the beginning and all throughout my life. My life is just a speck in His eyes, but God always has his way of making me feel uniquely special. Everyday I wake up is a miracle of faith, and I don’t have the faintest idea what will surprise me the next day.

When my daughter reaches the age of wisdom, I would so love to tell her the story of her name.

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MY HEART ACHES FOR MY COUNTRYMEN

My daughter’s birthday is fast approaching. As much as I want to give her a lavish party, I tightened on my spending and I intend to donate the same to help my countrymen who were victims of the super typhoon haiyan. I am just as happy to have been spared and sad because while I am sitting comfortably and eating my heart out whatever I want on this side of my country, my fellow Filipinos in Leyte suffered a massive, total devastation, with almost nothing to eat and nothing to sleep on.

I have watched the events from day zero. I have taken heed all the advisories and updates flashed on television days before Super Typhoon Haiyan entered the eastern seaboard of the Philippines, as anytime and at any place, it may divert on its supposed areas for landfall. The region where I live was given the signal number 1. I cannot take that for granted because a year back, we were also hit by a super typhoon. We’ve just started to pick up the pieces.

Watching the news in the last ten days, all I see was pain and suffering. But all the same, happy to have seen people from different walks of life from different countries unite to extend help. The help that poured in was overwhelming. The worst of times really bring out all the goodness in people.

While super typhoon Haiyan was recorded as the strongest typhoon ever recorded in the world history, it was equally put up by the strongest of undaunted Filipino spirit. I want to be proud. I want to tell the world how resilient we have become, but my heart grieves for all the lives lost just to prove that we can still smile, stand up and brush our shoulder amidst the worst, worst loss.

CHAMPIONING A LONG DISTANCE RELATIONSHIP

The saying that goes “Absence makes the heart grow fonder” really worked for me in the last eight years and counting. I had a very unconventional long distance relationship that lasted five long years. Our fifth year ended with marriage vows. We are on our third year of married life now and going strong, but still away from each other.

What made up those eight roller coaster ride years was not easy as difficult. He was working abroad. Thinking of all those years right now, I don’t know how we made it possible to still be counting those years together until now. Every single day, we struggle to fight for our relationship. I can now say that I already mastered the art of patience, trust, and honesty. These three little words added together would mean love.

Proximity was always the issue. As with a normal couple, we also had misundersandings and quarrels, and we deal with it every single time. But unlike couples who can talk things over a cup of coffee, we talk over mobile phones and the internet. It was costly and frustrating.

When we started “dating”, I was used to receiving text messages and emails from him every single day and it really upsets me if I don’t receive one. I lived my life thinking that on the other side of the world, somebody special is thinking of me. The anonymity of that one person, but you talk to him on a very personal level, telling all your hopes and dreams and family life, made it exciting to hope for a fairy tale love story ending.

After one long year, came the day of reckoning. The first time we met was unexplainable. All the drama faded and I welcome reality. The real love story has just begun. This is the moment when I fully assessed my feelings, if it was real or just passion or was is it really love. I decided to call it love. It was a difficult decision because after that first meeting, I know he would still leave me for God only knows how many years again.

After five long years, we decided to settle down. It became easy and I have learned to live with it. I am just so happy that we were blessed with a very wonderful daughter. She completed our whole lives and she is a living testimony that long distance relationships really work. Absence really makes the heart grow fonder, and distance is what makes the longing.

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WHEN SISTERS FIGHT

I have a sister, 10 years my junior. We fight often. When we were much younger than now, we were very close. She was sweet, innocent, and plain. I remember the first time we had a big, big fight, I slapped her hard. I cannot bear being answered back sarcastically when all I was telling her was for her own good, or maybe I don’t. I’m just so mad at being answered back. She changed through the years and I, too. She had new set of friends when she entered her College and she had more influences from other different people. She had grown to become a different person and, maybe, I was not prepared for it . I have always revered that sweet sister I had. We outgrew each other. And I think, that’s where it started.

Our usual fights trigger from just small things like her unintentionally banging a door and it just comes in leaps and bounds because it is always about a lot of things for me and just one thing for her. So many things ran through my head and I know where they come from, that when she tries to explain, I can’t hear her. I think I have these suppressed feelings of longing and wanting to turn back the time when I can still influence her and make her my little sister once more. I just get so frustrated that every time these little triggers happen, I just so love to escalate things and start a war.

What added up to my frustrations is how she treats other people with so much respect and talks about them with so much pride, and I have not heard her appreciate me in a long time. My ears would bleed, so does my heart when she does that. She signed up for this all-girls group and she calls them “sisters”. You can guess it is a Sorority. I once asked her,” Am I, your sister by blood, still not enough for you?” She never answered back. From then, I don’t want to hear what her answer is.

Our wars were always so cold that they run for days, weeks, and even months. I promise I can even do that in years, If she wanted it. I don’t know what went wrong. Was it just me? My frustrations and all? Or was it really her? The walls between us became hard and sturdy through time and I can’t make it crumble already. My pride already had me. I am her older sister and she’s just my little sister.

It is so hard. Thinking and feeling at the same time. We live together under a same roof, so near yet so far. I am really trying to decipher things. I know this can’t go on forever. I know when we fight, we hurt ourselves, and we hurt our family. And I was thinking that maybe, if I treat her more of a friend than a sister, we won’t fight anymore. Just maybe.

THIS IS MY JOY!

This is my daughter. Her name is Faith. All of my joys in my lifetime grouped together, she is all that and a lot, lot more. She is turning 3 years old in December. I would love to give her a fun and memorable birthday party. Any suggestion, please? Thank you!