that's it!

That's it!
When you try very hard to say something and yet the other person misinterprets the point. Totally off...That's it.
When you make all efforts to clear the waters from the murk and yet someone still steps on it...That's it.
When you keep on lighting a candle and the wind just blows it... That's it.
When one leaves and stay, leaves and stay, leaves and stay and leaves...That's it.
If the car always gives you a headache, giving you problems of bogging down when needed...That's it.
If the phone line is busy, can't be reached, no reply...That's it.
If the shoes you terribly like doesn't fit you, suits you, and you couldn't match it with any of your clothes...That's it.
If one keeps on visiting a friend and the friend ain't there... That's it.
If you cannot understand people around you, authorities and why they are doing such...that's it.
If you tried to send a message but the phone keeps stating 'message failed'...that's it.
If you have waited for hours, days, months for the package to arrive but it was sent to another...that's it.
If the weather is cold and you are in sleeveless,and when the weather is hot you are in coat, it simply means you have the wrong timing and can't seem to get the weathering right...that's it!
If things don't go the way you intended it... That's it.
If you can't fix it, you just can't fix it... That's it.
If you ordered for a soda and the server gave you milk...That's it.
If you are reading this blog and you think I am pertaining to you... or you feel that you can simply relate....hahahahahaha!...impossible...maybe...that's it!
Take things as it is... simply because that's it.
And taking things as it is makes life simplier because in reality...that's it. whew!

flashback

If I could go back in time and re-live some episodes of my life, I’d go back to the times when…
… I was seven and the only thing people asked me was what I want to be when I grow up, as opposed to now when I get asked all sorts of legal questions, half of which I don’t even want to answer.
… I believed that every thing was possible if only I try harder, as opposed to now when I think that the harder I try, the more elusive my dreams become.
… all it took to make me happy was for my favorite PBA team to win a championship, as opposed to now that the burden of decision are on my hands.
… I can eat what I want and not feel guilty, as opposed to now that the mere thought of buying ice cream consumes me with guilt.
… I cry only because of a movie, as opposed to now that I cry for a host of other reasons, or sometimes, for no reason at all.
… it was still cute to be a hopeless romantic, as opposed to now that being romantic means being hopeless.
… fights with friends were settled easily, as opposed to now where fights could really mean the end of a friendship.
… going to the library simply meant waiting for my crush to appear, as opposed to now when going to the library means looking for a precedent that does not exist.
… I had to wait for the DJ to play my favorite song, or for a particular day to watch my favorite show, as opposed to now when I can listen and watch anytime I want, so there’s nothing more to anticipate.
… financial planning meant budgeting my allowance for one week, as opposed to now when it means being pressured to have substantial savings and investments and learning how to maintain them.
… a broken heart was something that could heal in a few days, as opposed to now when any sort of healing is followed by an even worse relapse.
… getting good grades meant I did something right, as opposed to now when doing something right doesn’t translate to anything good anymore.
… when imagining the future meant looking forward to better days, as opposed to now when imagining the future means not knowing if it will be better.
… an angst-filled sentimental post such as this was age appropriate, as opposed to now when it sounds like another alcohol-induced rambling.
Believe me, the most melodramatic blogs are written on Thursday afternoon when your not busy at work and nothing to do but stare at my monitors (1 desktop, 1 company laptop, and my personal 1 ) . I should keep myself busy. Seriously.

The thing i promised i wont blog.

I told myself I'll never blog about this. But there's something about blogging that puts a stamp of finality to one's issues. So if only for the fact that I want to once and for all put an end to this melodramatic episode of my life, I decided to blog about this issue that's been bothering me for months now.

I'm saying goodbye to "pretty boy". We didn't have a fight; we never had a serious misunderstanding. We simply grew apart.

At first, I was reluctant to let go. I felt it was a friendship worth fighting for. But when it's only you who's interested in fighting for a relationship, you also get tired. And you tell yourself that maybe, you are better off not having this person in your life anymore. This choice, I know, doesn't make me a bad person. If anything, it makes me aware that even beautiful friendships have to come to an end. Especially if that's what it entails for both of us to grow.

We have a long history, my friend and I. We both thought we'd go through some of our life's special moments together and witness one another's joys. The saddest part of putting an end to our friendship is the realization that we won't be part of each other's lives anymore. But as they say, nothing is really permanent in this life. What was good for us a couple of years back may not be good for us now. If only for that, we owe it to ourselves to part ways.

I won't blame anyone for this. I've stopped figuring out what went wrong and how we came to this and why. The most that I can accept is that we have grown apart and at a certain point, we just stopped noticing. And perhaps, in the interest of self-preservation, we both stopped caring.

I wish this person a good life. I wish that the choices we both made will compensate for this loss. As for me, I know I'll get by. Though I never believed that time heals all wounds because I'm sure that the only thing time can do is draw us farther apart, I still believe that time can make me forget. So that's what I will do: forget about this episode and all the pain that it caused. My only regret is that I waited this long to do this. Considering how things ended, I should have done this earlier.

the many facets

I am an officer.

Thriving on self righteousness, uniqueness and simplicity...I earn my badge to act base on freewill. Call me anything that you want, I will still live on my own ideologies. I have mastered the act of taking for granted what people thinks and expect of me,,, because at the end of the day,,nobody will be there to fight for you. So might as well be absolutely liable for my own future, my own happiness and my own keep.

Im a bag person.

Id rather spend my moolah on bags rather than clothes. Bags are theraphy for me.


Im Single. But not available.


Im a sweet person Go and ask Chesnut :)


Im the Director I direct my own life...but still i know God is my Producer (pun)


I am a Fan ... Well heres a list of my idols. will try to complete every now and then 1. My Father - for his kindness and simplicity ( why i didnt inherit that trait?? ) 2. Adonis P. Sulit - a lawyer, educator...my college crush *wink 3. Piolo Pascual - well when i was still young and uncertain 4. OG Mandino - for life's greatest lesson 5. Paulo Coelho - undoubtedly the best author 6. Rosa - for her blog 7. Ehead, PNE, Vertical Horizon, Barry Manilow, Gary V, Martin N, Rey Valera 8. Chiz Escudero - when he was starting on politics and unstained :( 9. Lee Kwan Yew - of his simplicity, prudence and wit 10. Miriam D. Santiago - for her total absence of Simplicity 11. Father Gerry Orbos - his talent to share the Gospel of God in the simplest and most intertaining way 12. Bob Ong - for knowing and defining what a true ordinary Filipino .

I am a child. After all the accomplishments I have painstakingly done (whew) i still haven't outgrown the child in me. I think everyone has his/her creeping inside them, tho mine is more prevalent. What is it for that I allocate part of my keep to all those tiny-cutey stuff Disney characters. And how Im inclined with all things colored and how my make up kit has this Pooh and Friends Design. My pens case was of Pooh and guess what??? my coin bank is that of Eeyore :) Maybe i need to attribute on my lack of means to enjoy those things when i was young,, when the necessity are stapled on food and once a year new dress. i have not been bitter on what i had to go through, rather it made me thankful on what i have now. God is really good. Nobody can ever imagine how omnipotent His kindness is.

Im a Mom ( Not necessarily the best ) I told God once, what have I done to deserve Clara. She is just as perfect. All the ordeal I have to come and face with are nothing compared to all the happiness she's giving to us her family. Hopefully the Best Mom title would suit me,,,when she's grown up and can make her own keep. I am definitely proud of her.... hopefully she can be proud of me too.



The Cow(Girl) being with my guy bestbud for 12 years and counting, im more inept to guy things. on how they fall in love, how they think, how they respond to particular situation, how they give importance to journey rather than the destination....and how cool they are at any given point. or maybe Chesnut is just the one. One of a kind ;) I have been a drinker...and i'll bet my one month salary only if somebody can win over me in a let-drink-until-u-can game. this is not to brag....grrrr (clearly it's not call bragging ,,,,hahaha....lowsy joke )

Moving on...with a unilateral deal

You know you’ve truly moved on when you stop saying you’ve moved on. So obviously, there’s someone here who is far from moving on.

But I’m not denying it. In fact when people ask me how I am with regard to that aspect of my life, I don’t bother to answer anymore. Because there’s really no answer to that question. At best, the only thing I can say is that I’m painstakingly attempting to move on without much success. That’s the truth, anyway.

There’s no one formula for this, I guess. We all move on at our own pace, according to our own terms, and with our own defenses in the event the we backslide from our resolve. A friend told me that moving on is an art, and one that takes a lifetime to perfect. While that may be true, I also think that I deserve someone who will not give me any reason to move on anymore. Maybe that person exists. Or maybe he doesn’t. In any case, I’ve decided to make this the last time I’ll ever move on from someone. I don’t want to spend my life perfecting the art of moving on. Art or not, it’s a vice I need to put an end to. Right now.

In fact,maybe I won’t simply move on. Instead, I will opt to move up. Moving on is for those who want to forget. Moving up is for those who realize that if they remember, they can only get better. I’ve never been the type who forgets. I don’t believe that someone who has made a huge impact in my life can be easily forgotten just like that. But I believe in being transformed by experience because I’m the type who learns from my mistakes especially if I commit them twice over.

So maybe I know better now than just to aspire to move on. I will move up instead. Perhaps that’s the art that I should learn to perfect in this lifetime.

It must have been ( yet another unrequited ) Love

We met in Batangas a few years ago. Since it was some kind of yuo-are-in- heaven-im- on hell situation I didn't expect anything to develop. Besides, I was recovering from a heartache at that time and finding another one was the last thing on my mind. So imagine my surprise when he turned out to be different. For one, he was simple---so unlike all the "others" that I know. For another, he was smart (so i thought). which is now a rare combination, if you ask me.

And so we met and hit it off at once. Our conversations were meaningful but fun; our chemistry palpable yet subtle. Of course, he never admitted that he liked me. He couldn't have. But at that time, it didn't matter. Being together was enough. Besides, I told myself that this is about love. And as Nora Ephron would say: any story about love begins with a certain amount of rationalization. So true to form, I did rationalize that our apparent differences notwithstanding, there was no reason why we couldn't end up together. After all, when it comes to matters of the heart, there is hope even for the most hopeless. And though I happen to know that Nora Ephron also said that unrequited love is such a bore, I was just too giddy to care. Of course, I wasn't bored. I was in love! Never mind if he never texted on special occasions or bothered to update me about his life. It was enough that he was there to make me feel good about myself when it mattered most. I was oblivious to his indifference, confident that in time, he'd find a way to express how he felt towards me.

Until last week.

I got sick and was rushed to the ER due to severe back pains which immobilized me for a couple of days. But when I told him about it, all I got was a perfunctory reply that was even more perfunctory than some of my officemates' reaction when I told them the same thing.

And if only for that, I stopped being in love.

I figured, I couldn't possibly stay in love with someone who doesn't care, never mind if he did care at one point and might eventually care in the future. I couldn't possibly stay in love with someone who doesn't even bother to check on me despite knowing my condition, even though he claims to remember me from time to time. I couldn't possibly stay in love with someone who isn't here now, even if in the future, he could be here again. Who was it who said that "the future and its possibilities provide cold comfort for a tired and broken heart"?

So I therefore conclude that unrequited love is not just a bore. It's worse than that. It's a non-story. In the end, it's just one person trying to make sense of something that's never meant to make any sense in the first place. It's one pathetic heart insisting that it is joined by another, only to discover that such other was never on board. It's what happens when you delude yourself into thinking that a good love story can still happen even when all your past experiences point to the contrary. It's two people who were never on the same page of the same chapter of the same book.

So I'm out of love and as my close friends would say: what's new? I've been out of love for almost a week now and though there had been relapses, I'm pretty proud of how I've carried on. I had coffee alone last night and felt nothing. And though I still palpitate at the sight of a blue uniform that looks exactly like his, I tell myself that even that is understandable. After all, love, though unrequited, takes time to heal. And that remains true even if it's your third unrequited love in the last five years.

No wonder I'm so bored.

Sarap ng Weekend

My weekend was delicious. I know, the literal translation doesn’t sound right. But that’s pretty accurate; I really had a delicious weekend. On Friday, we celebrated a friend’s uncle birthday at Dome, had dinner and wine at Tatiana. On Sunday, we celebrated with the whole family a post birthday late lunch where I got to satisfy my craving for sashimi, prosciutto ham, lamb chops, lobster, and the world’s yummiest paella in this place:

So my weekend only meant one thing: I cheated on my resolve to diet. I know. With barely less than 24 hours since I sort of panicked with the state of my health, there I was stuffing myself silly and making numerous trips to the chocolate fountain. But I did resolve to make last weekend the last time I’d do that. So today I only had cereals for breakfast, seafood pasta for lunch, and oat meal for dinner. I remember an ex-crush who once asked me what was the point of being slim and pretty when you’re cranky all the time because you’re hungry. I wanted to tell him right then that the point was to have him like me, but then I realized, how could he possibly like me if I’m so cranky?

Anyway, I wish I do get a hang of this weight loss project I’ve started. I wish I can find more joy exercising than I do drinking a cup of mocha frap. I wish I can claim, without hypocrisy and with utmost sincerity, that I get it when they say that we should eat to live, and not the other way around. I wish I can honestly say that depriving myself of all the chocolates in the world is worth it because shopping for a nice dress is more gratifying than shopping for sweets at my favorite Candy Corner.

Oh well.

At least I can name one thing that’s worth all the sacrifice, self-control, and deprivation: That look in his eyes when he sees me in my cutest LBD. Yup, no contest there. That’s definitely worth it, baby. ;)

Twing Umuulan...sana kapiling ka

I feel happy when it rains. I even wrote a story (anonymously, of course) entitled “Rain” about how the rain, for all it can do, cannot hide your tears when you’re crying over your male best buddy who sees you as nothing more than a pesky little sister, or some such mushy plot like that. (My friends who had tragic love affairs (or so they claimed) lapped it up.) And my favorite OPM song of all time is Tuwing Umuulan at Kapiling Ka, which beautifully compares a consuming passion for a loved one with the unstoppable power of the rain. I used to barge into Rhoel’s room all the time and play his Basil Valdez CD of the song, and while at it do an impromptu interpretative dance of Kastilyong Buhangin. Which rarely amused him, needless to say. He’d usually just give out this exasperated sigh without even looking up from his PC.

I love the anticipation of something big just before the sky opens up, when everyone scurries around to take down blankets and stuff hanging from the clothesline, shut windows, bring out emergency lamps and batteries for the radio on particularly stormy occasions. And I love how the rain gives you the perfect excuse to be lazy, curled up in front of the TV or with a good, long book, updating your diary, going over old letters or scrapbooks or some other totally useless activity. You can even sleep the whole day, there being nothing much you can do and with the weather being so conducive and all. For me one of life’s greatest pleasures is slurping a steaming bowl of noodles while the rain beats down hard on the roof. It makes me realize how lucky I am to be so cozy while everything outside is being so harsh and unbearable. (Instant noodles are my favorite. They’re not very demanding, just add boiling water, and they taste so good, anyway. Even undomestic goddesses like me cannot possibly mess up instant noodles.)

Oh, but I do realize there are people who have a harder time at it when it rains, especially those who live out on the streets or whose livelihood consists of selling in the streets. My heart goes out to balut vendors who have to go around selling the thing on dripping, howling nights when they should be lying down on a dry bed somewhere, and little kids selling sampaguitas on wet, early mornings when the rest of us cannot even get out of bed. As soon as I get rich I’d buy all their wares and tell them to go to sleep.


I guess for grown-ups the rain evokes not so much happiness as melancholy and even grief. And it really does look like the sky is crying down buckets. But I look it as a sort of cleansing, so that at the end of it, everything looks new and fresh, like you are reborn and can start from scratch.

There’s an immensely sad song in Les Miz that goes, “I don’t feel any pain, a little fall of rain can hardly hurt me now, You’re here and that’s all I need to know … and rain will make the flowers grow”.

Rain makes the flowers grow. What more can you ask from it?

Suddenlythirty

One minute you’re twentysomething, still technically part of the youth, still perfectly qualified to contribute to Youngblood. And then one day you wake up and you are suddenly thirty. Officially old.

I don’t feel any different, tho that next year im going for my big three-oh. I was telling my sis that I still have the same passions and convictions as when I was in college. The only major difference in my life really is Clara. I guess I feel more secure about myself, less shy somehow. I feel fulfilled, too, mainly because I now earn my own keep and can do whatever I want with my life. And what I want to do with my life is not even something really grand like join a nudist beach or something. Just simple stuff that my parents used to frown on when I was still living with them, like eating bottomless potato chips and chocolates in bed while I read a book or watched a movie way into the night. I’m definitely happy, but I still have a lot of dreams – like, to be able to provide Clara all she needs and most of what she wants and for her to grow up kind, happy and bright, to visit Chesnut in Cape Cod, to travel around and outside the country, to get married to my one tru love (sigh) all over again to the same guy on our 25th wedding anniversary… But these dreams can wait.

I have this private thing where I tell him “I feel three” when I feel like being a three-year old or a toddler who does something really silly and couldn’t care less about what anyone else thinks, or when something really stupid happens to me and it’s like being a kid all over again where I’m just so helpless in the face of the strong forces of the universe. I feel three when I hear some jologs song in the mall like Where is the Love or Bring Me to Life and I just want to sing along at the top of my lungs, complete with dancing and movement. I feel three when I’m putting on ketchup in my Twister fries and the whole packet just gracelessly squirts into my brand-new pastel Kamiseta top. Whenever I feel either of these two types of being three Ches would usually make some remark – which he thinks is all very witty – like “very motherly” and roll his eyeballs in varying degrees of annoyance.


Oh, I will put a stop to all this silliness and act my age soon, I promise. One of the things that really gets to me is when I see fortyish types with pencil eyebrows and hair dyed blonde, wearing tank tops and tight jeans, and you can practically hear their bulges begging to be let out of such constricted clothing. Now that’s silly. Not to mention downright annoying.

I’m another ten years away from those bulges. Or so I hope.