Upside Down

this still hold true pala.....

Stuck By Disco Lightning

Lalalalala
... is the title of the latest song that Clara made up.  It's the first of only two lines, the second being 'Yeah, yeah'.  It comes with complete choreography that involves hand waving and hip shaking.  Seeing her sing and dance to it is the best part of my day.  (I catch myself singing it as I walk down the office halls sometimes. Sheesh.  I'm not only the accountant - I'm also the resident loony.)

I don't know where  she gets all her crazy ideas.  I am pretty normal, even kind of boring, I think.

A typical phone call between Clara and me goes like this.

Me:  How are you, baby?
Clara:  I just met Julian Francisco!
Me:  Who is Julian Francisco?
Clara:  He's my stepfather!

Sheesh.  Last time I checked, I have not married anybody haha!!!.

Clara and I were Internet surfing at dusk when Ate Princess came into the room so I turned the light on.

Clara:  Why did you turn the light on?
Me:  The better to see Ate Princess and her lovely face and bright smile!
Clara:  And her long, smooth legs!

Whaddawhack?!  She is all of five years old.

Me, before we flew to Bali:  Clara, you're not going to be so sad and miss us too much, right?
Clara:  Actually, Mom, to be honest, I miss only Mommy Aba.

Ouch.  Gee, thanks, Clara.  I love you, too, man.

Clara:  Papaya si Ate Coleen sa swimming!
Me:  Huh?  Why papaya?
Clara:  If she's not good, then she's papaya, right?
Me (after 60 million hours trying to figure it out):  Oh, you mean kamote!

Hahaha.

If only all her comments are that funny and harmless, tho.

Clara, asking Mommy's eldest sister:  Lola, until when are you in London?
Lola Ninay:  For 6 months, until my visa expires.
Clara:  6 months!  Buhay ka pa ba non?!

Aaargh.  It's one of those moments when  I can't do much else but shake our heads and mumble:  no, no, no, Im are not her Mommy :)) !

Love and Other Dramas

(Somehow friends always come to me with their love woes.  While I love that they open up to me, I don't really know why they do.  Last time I checked, I have not done anything spectacular to qualify me as The Love Guru or something.  It also bothers me that they seem to get all the juicy romance dramas while all I'm stuck with are my same old stupid work-related problems.  Not fair!  Hahaha.  I recently dug this beauty up for one such love struck friend.  It's by Neil Gaiman, one of my all-time favorite writers, and who's in My List of Men I'm Allowed To Have Extra-Marital Relations With.  This is for you G, K, E, A, T, and R - amor vincit omnia.)        

"Have you ever been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up a whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life.  You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' or 'how very perceptive' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. Nothing should be able to do that. Especially not love. I hate love."

- By the character Rose Walker in The Sandman #65, written by Neil Gaiman

Happy Birthday Momsy :)

It’s Inay’s birthday today and I couldn’t just let the day pass without writing something about it. I called her the minute Clara and I woke up and Clara sang happy birthday to her and said I love you even. I also texted her that I will always love her enormously, long after all her teeth fall out.

She’s not exactly the ideal mother. She swears way too much for a toddler’s impressionable ears. She also acts like an overgrown bully - or a thug, more like – easily losing his temper at our maids and pets and neighbors, and getting into frightening  rages even before the term was invented. But for all her imperfections, she never made me feel anything other than unquestionably and unfailingly loved, and sometimes that’s all you need from a mother.

One of my favorite childhood memories is going to the market with her, mainly for the part where she buys me gulaman at sago and bibingka, and when we get home would whip up chopsuey or sinigang na spare ribs or pinakbet or tortang dilis. I don’t know why she chose to take me over Ehye and Idad. Maybe bcoz I’ve always been a good girl and can be counted on not to throw a tantrum while she haggled over some fish or the other. (Yes, believe it or not, I was a good girl. I transformed into a maldita only much, much later.) There was also the time when the entire country was having all these blackouts, so at night she’d take this lounge chair that we had just outside the gate and tell me stories about her childhood and youth.

What amazes me most about Mom is that I learn new things from her everyday. It could be something completely useless to me like a historical fact or medical data or whatever, or something really practical and wise like where to buy export overrun ceramics or the best Chinese take-out.  I never saw her sit down with a book but she has talked to me about classic lit like Doctor Zhivago and stuff by W. Somerset Maugham. We could also enjoy together the no-brainer antics of Indiana Jones and Luke Skywalker. She’s always up-to-date with current events, including showbiz matters. Just when I thought she couldn’t possibly be hiding anything else up her sleeve, she learned how to text, more than six months from the time she started using a cellfone. I almost fainted when I got my first SMS from her.

What I love best about her is that she’d always made me feel that she was happy with me just as I was - even back when I was just a little girl holding on to her hand while we went to market – and that I didn’t have to be anything to please her. She never made me feel like I failed her even when I was never really the achiever type. I even overheard her talking to her friends about how I gave up in the name of motherhood my high-profile  overseas career to a low-paying job as if  it was something that made her proud. Sometimes you need a parent to validate the choices you make, and to reassure you that, hey, you’re not doing too badly.

What I really admire about her is her simplicity. I don’t think being rich or powerful has ever been in her agenda. In fact, the one retirement dream she keeps mulling about involves a hut in the middle of a farm in Batangas and spending the rest of her days on earth caring for the orchids.

She need never read this blog to know that I love her back, that I would kill tigers for her.

Give

All I know is that when you badly need something, the best way to get it is to give it away first.

I didn't realize how selfish I was until I came to a point that I had been doling out things, time, resources that I would otherwise keep to myself. I always thought that everything I had in me were things I badly needed to keep because I was always dearth of so and so. This might sound a little pompous but I've always been selfish that generosity is something new to me. Until that time that I had nothing else to lose that I started giving most away that I have been receiving more than what I believe I deserved. It was when I eliminated the automatic response in my head of "What about me? I need that, too" that I started to receive everything I asked for. Truth is, a lot of it are thoughts placed upon me during worship. I remember Pastor Paolo saying God knows what you need so always trust. And trust I did. I remember that visiting Pastor. It was the time of the earthquake and the church he was discipling was in need of a car so he gave them his. Two weeks later, he received one that he had been dreaming of for so long. Of course, this is more than just asking God for material things, as I learned, even peace of mind and heart can be attained if it is freely given to those who need it.

It's too good a realization not to share.

The four day weekend gave me some time to think and for once they were nice thoughts. They were thoughts that were finally on the positive side, how everything in life has finally been coming my way again. For weeks, maybe months, all those weekends I didn't write about things I loved or things I knew for sure, I stayed away from the compose window because I was afraid my negativity would seep through the keyboards and infect anyone who read this blog. I tried limiting myself to product reviews, makeup looks and event reports because they were impersonal and I didn't need to link it to myself. But here I am now, I am finally once again energized, refreshed, happy, generous {I hope so!}, calm, rational and thinking with clarity. Thank you for this, Lord!

So over the week, I'd been thinking and here are my realizations that I hope would be of use to you too, my dearest reader someday.

1. You can get whatever you want in your life if you pray for it and put your mind into it. My friend J warned me of negative things I said when I'm annoyed. He always said that things have a way of being self-fulfilling prophecies and the Universe will not be able to determine if that's what you want or don't want so always fill your mind and lips with things you actually want. I know I've read about it from Rhonda Byrne's The Secret and whether there's a scientific explanation to it or not, it can't hurt to try! After all, yes we need to be realistic but I don't see any point in trying to dwell on what's not making us happy.

There were some things I asked for months ago and I asked God for a sign. It took me and everything else more than a month and when it finally came, it was like a lightning that went down on me while I was at an intersection waiting for a green light. It wasn't what I asked for per se but it couldn't be any clearer than what it was and for that I am beyond grateful.


 Remember this sign, now and always.

2. You can get whatever you want with the right tone and pitch of voice. That said, and especially if you're talking to a member of the male species, talk in a neutral tone, don't nag, sound as if you're in a business meeting and don't go up eight octaves.

3. Perception Management is key to anywhere. And probably one of the hardest things to work on. And while it's true that what other people think of you is none of your business, well --- let's just say it will always follow you like a shadow.

4. There will be always some bad decision that you made in the past that will haunt you. But my dearest, the only way out of it is to forgive yourself.

5. It's really hard to be kind, but harder not to be. I always tell myself that I will try to be kind every single day but it is hard, even when there are days that I literally bite my lip so that the moment will just pass me by and I will forget whatever mean thing that I was going today but there are times that it escapes and well, there's always tomorrow. A good friend once said kindness is a struggle. I believe that but there is nothing in the world that's unachievable.

6. You are not your past, you are not your father who left you and you are not your issues. Give yourself a break and breathe and let go.

7. Take cues from the little things. I tried about three times today to book a vacation that has been on my mind lately and by some twist of fate, it wouldn't go through. And then I realized that I had one up in front of me, waiting to be worked on and the one I'd asked for more times than I did the one I tried to book. I took it as a sign.

8. The more you know what you want, the lesser things you don't want upset you. - Bill Murray / Bob Harris | Lost in Translation

9. Surprise yourself. I had the biggest {good} surprise of my life this week. Hopefully it stays this way for a long, long time.

10. There's more to life than our personal woes. And as I found out, the cure for that is to busy oneself with helping others. Really.

11. Make friends with yourself. Best idea ever.

Twenty Priceless Things

1. surviving a 12-hour long road trip from QC to Ilocos Norte with the entire Castillo  family that includes an 8-month old princess and a 3 ½ year old tyrant

2. singing with Jewel at the top of our lungs as we pass the familiar highways of Bulacan, Pampanga and Tarlac, to the tune of anything in my celfone’s playlist, from Beatles to Blue Jeans, Unfaithful to Under the Sea, O Sole Mio to My Immortal

3. finding out that there are still certain things married people don’t know about each other even after they’ve been married 35 long years, as they swap childhood stories throughout the ride

4. the inviting waves of the beaches in La Union that look close enough to touch all the way from the car

5. a friend who lives two minutes away from Paoay Church

6. Paoay Church. Unesco Heritage Site. Built in the 1500s. Perfect from every angle.

7. the picture that I take of Jewel against the backdrop of the Paoay church entrance, lovely and tragic at the same time

8. the sound of bagnet crunching in your mouth, in there with tomatoes, onions and bagoong, and Yoshi pleading for more of the “white” and “crispy” (meaning the taba and balat)

9. gobbling up Vigan empanada dripping in sukang Iloko while getting a kick out of the many production numbers in the Paoay Lake National High School JS Prom

10. the serenity and myth of the Paoay Lake as viewed from the balcony of the Malacanang of the North

11. calesa ride all around Laoag City with Yoshi dearly clutching on to his The Promise DVD that he buys from a Moslem woman who sells pirated discs right beside all the chichacorn and native delicacies

12. the myriad of colors of euphorbia blooms in Auntie Claire’s and Auntie Azon’s gardens

13. having my picture taken with Jewel in a hallway draped with a million tivoli lights in Fort Ilocandia

14. the view of the coastline on the drive to Pagudpud, with Christian pointing to the exact spot on a big rock where the Wow Philippines commercial was shot

15. the giant windmills of Bangui (and Popsy regrets not stopping at the look-out point that he sees on cable tv weeks after)

16. screaming in total abandon as the big, strong waves of Pagudpud kick you onto the shore, with Yosh, Teody, Ches and myself never wanting to leave the water, and the absolute lack of crowds and stunning beauty of the place

17. Cape Bojeador. Built in the 1500s and still guiding ships till the present. Offers a panoramic view of the South China Sea. Makes you forget you’re supposed to be acrophobic.

18. the cobblestones and brick houses of Vigan that take you back to another era

19. a funeral band that gamely poses for pix with Jewel and later on play Cueshe’s Borrowed Time as the coffins are brought out of the Vigan Cathedral

20. Jewel’s big fight and long extemporaneous speech directed at the Chow King-Luisita manager whose staff made the fatal mistake of not putting the right number of sago and beans in her halo-halo. Classic and priceless both.

Muder Like No Other

...dear Inay,

I love you. Naks! I like that you allow me to be who I want to be....noisy, messy and bu-ang! You dont seen me as a princess in the pea. You dont want me to be one i know. You want me to be a warrior princess instead, because you are the warrior queen. It is mother's day. It is just a special as everyday that i am living becasue, come on...i am because you are.

You just didnt know. I didnt show you. I didnt know that the chance to show you would pass that fast. And it did - just like that - wasted! I never had anyone else applaud me like you did. Dote on me like you did, been proud of me like you did. You are irreplaceable. What i would not trade is hearing you say that you are mighty proud of the woman i have become, then of course you and itay will simply followed it with "anak ka kc namin".

Oh! tears, why cant you freeze inside my eyes and not flow out.

Happy Mother's Day! Excuses for the uhog :P sniff! sniff!

Lost in Translation

I have the most unusual friendship with a former client from my previous office. I was still single (im still am i know) when I started to work on his account, mainly involving the registration of a landholding company to own a beachfront property in Batangas. I hardly did any other work for the account after that, but he still set up these meetings with me whenever he and his Pinay girlfriend visited the country around Christmas. He always brought me chocolates and wine, too, and toys for Clara even, after I gave birth. To justify these meetings in the office, he'd usually have some non-urgent legal request like for me to draft his will (which he never executed) or help him with further land acquisition in the south (which never materialized).

He kept in touch even after I left the  office. He'd take me out to dinner in places like Paseo Uno and Spices. The lobby of the Manila Pen is his favorite. He says it's his kind of place, quiet and not too crowded, not too cold and with live music besides. To keep up the pretext of an accountant-client relationship, he'd have a checklist of little legal matters for me to handle, like check up on his bank accounts, advise him on the requirements for a lending company that he plans to set up here. I never bill him for these things and he's never offered to pay. Altho, I must admit, I was kind of hoping he would already after I drafted this agreement where I will act as trustee for the beachfront thing (which agreement he has approved but hasn't signed by the way). Sigh. Well, there's still Christmas. And he did hint about inviting me and Clara to Spain someday. Hope springs eternal.

He's really more of a friend to me than a client. He fascinates me bcoz he's the only one of his kind among my friends. He's truly ancient, at 66, a full 10 years older than my own parents. He was born in Ireland, raised in London and now based in Spain. He was married first to a Brit then to an American and then he had the Pinay girlfriend. He has an estate in Malaga portions of which he sold to friends who are like British royalty or something. He gossips about Lord Smith who's having an affair with Lady something-or-the-other. What I love about him is he talks about these things like they're all a matter of fact, no hint of bragging, like he just happened to be extremely wealthy and these people just happened to be his neighbors. I also love that he's so well-read and well-traveled. So I can talk to him about inane stuff like Da Vinci Code and Maeve Binchy. And he tells me amazing stuff like this tribe in Namibia that's still a hunter-gatherer society, or his lawyer-nephew who developed an allergy to gluten. He has a sense of humor, too. Last time we were having beef mignon in the lobby of the Pen, and the band played The Music of the Night, and I just had to touch his arm to tell him this is one of my favorite songs of all time, and he promptly stopped chewing and solemnly asked, "Should we stop eating?" Oh, of course in the middle of his story about buying this 300-year old building in Dublin I almost snap and stand and point a finger at him and yell, if you're so rich why don't you write me a check for all these crazy little legal things you ask me to handle. If only this were a movie. Sigh.

But my heart goes out to him, too. His Pinay girlfriend has broken up with him, so now he just comes here to visit their two kids, and take his elder daughter to Disneyland or for a vacation with him in Spain or something. I told Malk, this guy must be an immensely lonely person if he has the time to email me regularly and take me out on these long dinners whenever he's here. I mean, if he had a better life, why would he waste his time being friends with a nobody like me? I don't think it's to avail of my free legal services, bcoz he never really needs it anyway. Rommel has a theory tho. According to him, this guy must have the hots for me. Rommel has an amazing and endless supply of crazy ideas, I swear. How can a man as old as Abraham even feel any hots for anyone? It's not allowed.

No matter. My friendship with him makes me feel like we're  Lost in Translation, and if this is the only way I can get to play Scarlett Johansson, I'm happy.

Mighthier than the Sword

I recently listened to Katrina Legarda speak about grammar and punctuation and writing styles in class. It’s one topic I can thankfully relate to, unlike the trial techniques and arbitration proceedings and stuff in the past classes, things as alien to me as rocket science.

I know that some people are as averse to writing as I am to, say, math. I know that addition and multiplication and basic stuff like those are important, but algebra, geometry and trigo? I almost did not make it thru high school bcoz of these devils. My philosophy is, if X wants to know what Y equates, positive A can run along and help him. So there. I even wrote something about hating math. Too bad I didn’t keep a copy. It would’ve made for a nice blog.

I have always enjoyed writing. I remember in grade school and high school we’d be given like the whole of English or Filipino class to write a composition, and while most everyone would groan and whine I’d be humming. I’ve always looked at it as a form of expressing myself in a way that is concrete and lasting. I mean, you can tell a story and make people laugh or cry, but after that, you can relive it only in your memory. Yeah, you can always re-tell the story, but the second time may not quite convey the same emotions anymore, or maybe you said it all wrong the first time. But if it’s written, you can edit it, and keep going back to it whenever you feel like it, and it stays exactly the same unless you touch it.

I write essentially for myself alone. I don’t need to be published or read by other people. And when I manage to write something I am completely satisfied with, then it’s a different kind of high for me. It’s inexplicable. Of course, it doesn’t hurt when other people say nice things about your writings. It’s something more profound than, say, a compliment about how you look, bcoz there you have to think, is it really you or your outfit from Theme or Kamiseta or wherever. But when it’s your writing that people like, it’s as if they approve of you as a person, your way of looking at things, your sentiments.

Anything at all can inspire me to write. I can compose an entire story out of the title of a poem or a line in a song, or write on and on about something as silly as wildflowers or a toddler’s antics. When Malk and I are in the middle of a discussion and I’d suddenly get quiet, he’d say, “You’re blogging, aren’t you?” And I’d giggle bcoz it’s true, I’m forming an idea for a blog in my head. (This is what you need a good friend for. To find you doing something utterly selfish and completely useless – like shopping, too – and lets you do it, anyway.)

I would’ve taken Journalism in college if Uncle Ben didn’t dissuade me from it. He’s a prolific writer. He wrote for magazines and comics before his family migrated to the States, and even there he wrote all these poems that won awards and cash prizes. He would read Neruda on his vacations here. He advised me to take up a practical course so I could land a good job coz he said I could always write on the side, anyway. (Of course, I think what he had in mind was something other than what I do now, i.e., blogging during working hours.) He passed away a few years ago, but his legacy lives on, if only thru his runaway bestseller, the tragically lovely poem, If You’re Ever Going to Love Me.

To my sisters, Jewel and Malk and his friends and all my friends who read my blogs and who, even if they are too shy to post their comments on this site but text and email and say nice things about what I write, thanks. You inspire me to keep writing week after week. I’m not about to compel you to keep reading, but, hey, it wouldn’t really be my loss, would it :)

My Heroes

1. People who are nice to you when they don’t have to. The villain in MI3 says something like, you can judge a person’s character by how well he treats other people whom he doesn’t have to treat well at all. Which is why I love this boss that I have who’s always so warm and affectionate, always putting a personal touch to his emails and texts like, take care or I hope you have a pleasant day ahead or have a good weekend or something like that. It’s like he’s really concerned about my well-being and is not just communicating with me to give me work. And he doesn’t have to do that at all. He doesn’t even have to say hi to me. (Of course it helps that this particular boss is a hottie. Old and married and a daddy but a hottie notheless.)

2. People with strength and principle. I happened to meet up with a batchmate who is from  law school in my MPLE classes. I learned that she has left her law office and has filed a complaint against the partners who were making her do something illegal not to mention unethical involving a labor arbiter. The firm has offered her like one million to get her to withdraw the case and she has declined (so far). I don’t know how it’s going to end but for now I really admire this girl for being so brave going up against an entire law office, against a whole way of doing things in the legal profession. It’s people like her who make me believe maybe there’s hope for lawyers, after all.

3. Blooper girls. I rode the MRT to Ayala Triangle one office day and sat across this girl who looked perfectly put-together, make-up and all. She was wearing a skirt with some strings and when she stood up the strings got stuck on the leg of her seatmate and her skirt came falling down like halfway thru her leg, exposing everything including her beige panties. I know it’s mean to rejoice over other people’s misfortunes, but I’m sorry, things like these really make feel better about myself and reassure me that I don’t have a monopoly on bloopers (even if it seems like that 6 out 7 days in a week).

4. The people who planted the flame trees all over the office compound. I counted nine on the facade alone. At this time of the year you can hardly see any leaves, everywhere it’s just red and orange, on the trees and the ground below, so vibrant and all for free. It’s like an unexpected gift from God, these flame trees, as if he’s reminding you, you’re alive, life is beautiful, smile.

5. Characters. I don’t mean those who dress weird and talk loud to grab everyone’s attention. Just people who are happy to be different, not scared to go against the norm, in terms of how they look at things, how they express themselves. Colorful people you meet and won’t soon forget bcoz they stand out and do not just blend in. Nico once said that a non-conformist is not necessarily one who’s unlike everyone else; it’s more of someone who doesn’t really care what everyone else thinks. (This was during one of Nico’s few lucid intervals.)

In my former  office, we had an accountant who was otherwise normal and staid the whole year, but who really went out of her way to dress up in our themed Christmas parties. One year she came as a Millennium Lady Bug, and another year she was Cruella de Ville. Rhoel surmised that it was her one time in the year to let loose and get wild. People were practically lining up to have pictures taken beside her, as tho she were some Disney attraction. She became then, in that one time of the year, figuratively and literally, A Character.

6. People who are contented with what they have and are happy where they are. I know this guy who operates the elevator in the SEC. At every stop he’d say, “Ikatlong palapag na po” or “Unang palapag na po. Salamat po.” I admire his grace and good humor (not to mention his eloquence in Filipino). I’m sure it’s not his lifelong dream to be an elevator operator but the fact that he is doesn’t make him bitter or cranky as I’m sure the rest of us would be if we have to spend our days going up and down the same building and never really getting anywhere.

7. Mothers’ Day bcoz of a Hubbies who are startlingly sweet and endlessly patient. When we brought Yosh to the Mt. E ER on persistent fever, there was an old lady who was sick on a nearby bed. Her husband was lovingly brushing her hair away from her face and whispering to her. I couldn’t quite hear what he was saying but I could make out that he was telling her to hold on and that he’s there for her. It was really touching.

Really, PC would be perfect if only he had the charms, accent and income of Hugh Grant. Ooops. This could be the final straw for him to make good his long-standing threat of putting up his own blog site.:P

Feisty Female

My friend found out early Friday that she was going to have a baby girl. It made for great news to kick off the weekend, quite the extreme of the coup threat and state of emergency of the past week. I'm sure it'll be so much different from raising a baby boy. I can just see myself being such a hands-on tita (to the point of being atribida, another favorite adjective used by Rhoel and Jon to describe me).

But then when I got to the office I had an email from a friend whose dad was dying of cancer. She said it was just a matter of time now. She has a toddler too and she was explaining to him that Lolo was going away on a field trip. But he asked, how can he go on a field trip with his dextrose? And he said he would lock the door so Lolo won't be able to leave. And he was getting upset bcoz everyone was crying. It was heartbreaking. It's agonizing enough to have to deal with the death of your father, much more to have to explain it to a toddler. There should be a rule somewhere that would disallow children below 12 to experience the death of a loved one.

That night I had dinner with a friend who was leaving our former law office for a job that will pay her twice as much but will require her to be on call 24/7. She had all these apprehensions, like whether she'll still be able to see her daughter, or whether she'll get along with her boss, or how long she can endure the demands of her new job. She's a single mother and one of the smartest, bravest women I know.

My worries were along different lines when I moved to a new job last year. I knew that I was going to be less stressed and would be able to spend more time with my family, but I was worried whether we'd be able to manage with my drastic paycut, whether I'd get properly appreciated (not to mention compensated) by my new bosses and generally whether it was the right career move for me.

We have another friend who left the law office and stopped working altogether to be a full-time mom. This girl graduated at the top of her class and even topped the Bar so you can imagine that she had one bright future ahead of her in the legal profession. But I remember that one of her reasons for taking the plunge was that she wanted to spend more time with her son, who was lagging behind in pre-school (he was still in “A” while his classmates have moved on to “E”). Her son is ok now (perhaps even reading faster than the rest of them) and my friend seems happier than ever.

And you think girls are just these flighty creatures who would shop from dusk till dawn if that's how long the stores are open, and fragile beings who shamelessly cry in theaters over movies like Brokeback Mountain. Well, we are all those things alright, but we also have strength and endurance in the face of death, and self-denial and resilience in the name of motherhood. And we have the grace and tenacity to deal with life's blows on a daily basis.

Ballet Dream

My mom says that I have always wanted to be a ballerina, even as a little girl. I guess I just love how they can go around the whole day wearing their pink tutus and dainty little pointes. And ballerinas all seem to embody grace and elegance and everything beautiful that I want to be in my life. They’re just like fairies. I never did anything about my passion for ballet tho, never did more than hoard all the ballerina trinkets I can get a hold of – picture frames, posters, notepads. They’re all over my house.

So here I am, not up on a stage performing a classic art and being thin and lithesome and wearing pink all the time, but instead working as an accountant who cries over some guy who owes my client a huge sum of money. It’s actually his company’s debt, but his business partners have all abandoned him and he doesn’t expect that they’d help out so he’s taking it upon himself to settle the debt the best he can. So he can start out anew, he said, and so that he can rebuild his reputation and approach banks to finance his new business venture. He related how he even mortgaged his family home already and how he has to deal with an estafa case filed by another creditor. At the end of the meeting he even had the balls to apologize to my client for the way things have worked out. That guy broke my heart, sitting there all dignified and earnest, despite the blows that life has dealt him with.

And my friggin job is to milk the most out of him. I should never have been a here at all. I’m not cut out for these things, I swear. And we’re not even talking about defending a child molester or something.

It’s times like this that makes me wish I had studied ballet seriously, or that I could migrate to the States and flip burgers at McDo or be a cashier in some posh shop and get first dibs on season-ender sales. Or be anything at all. Anything other than a friggin accountant.

Forever Jeans

I’ll be a much happier person and a better one over-all if I could just wear jeans everyday. I’ll strut around confidently, sit anywhere and anyhow I like without having to worry about exposing my womanhood to the whole world, and just be more relaxed and contented with my life. I just know it.

My love affair with jeans started in college. Oh, I wore them as early as grade school, but it was in college that I wouldn’t wear anything else. I had the odd dress and skirt for weddings and stuff, but if I had any shopping money I rushed to the nearest Levi’s store. Now I’ve branched out to jeans from Kamiseta, Bayo and Plains and Prints. (I try to patronize these brands. Lovely clothes of good quality. And proudly Pinoy, best of all.)

I remember my interview in the SCAA. It has got to be one of the shortest ever – I think less than 10 minutes, and half the time I was grilled on an issue completely unrelated to the legal profession: why I was wearing jeans. I made up some excuse about coming to the interview straight from a summer vacation in the province, but the truth was, it just didn’t occur to me to dress up coz all the law students and even some of the professors wore jeans to class anyway. Duh? I did wear my prettiest floral top. What more could they ask for?

When I was pregnant, the one thing I missed most was wearing jeans. Oh, I had those jeans for preggies with adjustable buttons to fit all trimesters and all, but it’s not just the same wearing jeans when you have a grossly distended belly. I would’ve worn jeans going home from the hospital right after I gave birth, except that my episiotomy was still so raw and sore. Ouch.

The book The Five People You Meet in Heaven talks about a certain moment which will stand out over all the others in memory when you think of your true love. It could be the first time you met, or your wedding day as your bride walks down the aisle, or whatever. I asked PC what his one-true-love memory of me was, and he said it was when I’d wait for him in the SICC Gallery in between putt, wearing my jeans and a big smile like I was the happiest girl on earth.

For once, my he knows just the right answer to my question, exactly what I wanted to hear. Wonders will never cease.

...we're so over

 ...We have to invent a new word for ‘over’”. So goes my favorite line in Sex and the City (so ester, spoken by Carrie Bradshaw to Mr. Big. I thought about it now coz I just realized it is actually possible to get over someone you love greatly. Someone you obsess about, and who defines what you wear in the morning and how you spend the rest of the day, someone you want so badly you make a fool of yourself over and over just to be with him, no matter how many times and how casually he dumps you. 

Maybe you just get exhausted to the bone. Maybe you realize the futility of it all. Maybe you find someone who treats you way better. It is even possible to fall out of love. And when it is over, you’re just relived to be out of your misery. (Come to think of it, loving someone is one great misery. You open yourself up to the absolute power and mercy of another person. You’re at your most vulnerable, most fragile.) Maybe you’re angry, for having invested so much drama and emotion to this guy who just treats you like dirt and leaves you with nothing but crumbs. But a part of you is also sad, because it didn’t work out, and somewhere in the secret places of your soul you will always wonder what could have been.


It’s comforting to know that it is possible to get over someone. 

Brokenhearted Leave

You caught your boyfriend lying. Ouch! You're betrayed. You're alone. Back to zero then you're single again! You cried til you lose yourself. It's morning and you cant report to work. Well, you dont have to... That's what HEARTACHE LEAVE is for.

A cosmetics marketing company in Tokyo believes that employees need time to cry and come back to work refreshed when heartbroken. How cool is that huh?!

Upon hearing this news, a smile cracked on my face. Nde lang pala sa Pinas uso ang EMO. Even in TOKYO- one of the busiest business cities in the world, has time to anticipate a heartache.

Well, heartache is human. Para siyang pagkakasakit. Most of the time you are not ready when it comes. And true enough, how can you be efficient if it will affect your system? So a Heartache Leave lets you go anywhere and do anything you want to shake the aches away! But make sure that there'll be no more pagdradrama at pagtulala sa harap ng PC mo the following day. Wala ka na karapatan!

Now, if your boyfriend has left you for another girl, then you wont be needing a Heartache Leave..

Why not file a Bereavement for him instead? wink wink ;)