Takutin ba ang Pinoy?

Me, the bf, the bf's roommate and his girlfriend had planned on going to Markoff's Haunted Forest in MD for around a month now. It was the scariest shayt that I have ever been in!

Ganito kasi ang strategy sa utak ko --- act brave and you will not fear. It worked for my skydiving. Apparently, though, it was no match for people dressed and acting as ghosts.

The forest is seriously a forest. A real one. As in, parang dingding na green na naghihiwalay sa forest at sa waiting area. Wala ka talaga makita sa loob from the outside, pero marami kang maririnig na sigaw ng mga pumapasok. Pala, in groups ang pasok. So lugi ka kung dalawa lang kayo ng boyfriend mo, for example.

Buti na lang apat kami. Ewan ko ba ano nangyari, pero nauna kami ni boypren, at sumunod ang kasama naming couple din. Shempre, kunwari quiet lang ako kasi di ako takot. Deep inside, namumuo na yung mga sigaw sa lalamunan ko. I was getting ready to belt out my blood-curdling screams. Kasi naman, yung mama sa entrance, may huddle effect pa bago kami papasukin. Sabi ba naman 'There is something or someone in there that is not part of our group. So please stay on the path. And don't take any invitations to run off it. If it provokes you, just scream and we'll try to get you as quick as we can. And to the men......if you get scared, just --- leave the women and run for your life!' O di ba, pa-epek. Nadala naman ako.

Pero, tol, iba talaga, kasi naglalakad ka sa loob, tapos gabi, so wala ka masyadong makita, tapos, andaming nakakabulag na ilaw. So madaming shadows. Susme. Pagpoasok pa lang namin sa entrance, makipot ang daan, as in isa-isa kayong dadaan dun, so nauna ang boypren sumunod ako. Paglabas shempre adjust ang paningin sa paligid, biglang BULAGA! Mumu na may tungkod na sumusunod. Sigaw na agad ako. Tapos tatakbo ka, susunod sa direksyon ng ilaw, isa pang mumu, tapos isa pa, tapos dalawa, one from each side, tapos you're dreading the next ones, pero wala kang magawa, kasi di ka naman pwedeng bumalik, dahil may lima ka nang nadaanang mumu, yung isa pa dun, gumagapang na parang aso at ayaw magpadaan, binatukan ko tuloy. Survival instinct ko na yun noh! So no way na dadaan ako ulet sa kanya. Baka kagatin ako nun, magkarabis pa ko, isip-isip ko lang.

Pero eto. May parang maliit na bahay na nakaharang sa daanan. Shyet. Potah. Ayoko dumaan sa loob. Walang ilaw, di ko makita ang kabilang side. Una ka na, boypren, sugod!!!!!!!!!! So dali-dali kaming apat, magkakadikit para walang maiwan. Paglabas sa kabilang side, paglingon ko, may naka-itim na nasa pagitan namin ng kasama ko. Susmaryosep. Napatili tulyo ako. 'Ay, Putaena,' sabi ko. 'Teka lang! Teka lang! Walang gulatang ganyan!! Time out, Time out,' sabi ko, with a matching right hand up, making the V-sign. As if naman alam nyang ganun ang time-out sa Pilipino. Hiningal na ko. Ngumiwi yung mama tuloy, sabay sabi 'I want her first'. Tanghena, ululllll, pakshyet. takboooooo! Shyet, di ko na talaga napigilan magtagalog kasi sunod-sunod na nun yung mga mumu. May white lady, may mamang kahoy, may taong grasa, may mala-I-know-what-you-did-last-summer costume, at kung anu-ano pa. At di lang lilitaw, susundan o sasabayan ka pa maglakad. At tuwing may manggugulat, mapapatagalog na ko sa takot.

Sabi ng roommate ni boypren, ' I don't know what's scarier, that they just jump out at ya, or that A**** starts speaking in tongues once they get close'. Ako? Nakakatakot? Mala-exorcist ba ang dating nyahahaha.

Yung girlpren naman nya, nakakatawa rin, kasi sya ang nasa huli, so pag hinahabol sya at hinihila yung likod ng shirt nya (ewan ko ba naman kasi baket naka-yellow vest, so parang reflector na kitang-kita yung suot nya ng lahat ng mga mumu), titigil sya, lilingon, at sasabihin, 'Hello. (pause) how are you?(pause)' na may sweet tone pa yung pagsabi. Kiber na lang yung mumu. Kunwari di sya kinakausap. Umuungol pa rin. Susmarya, nakakaloka.

Tapos, after ng 15 na mumu, naghahanap na ko ng mga padating na mumu, change in tactic, kumbaga. May isa na nakatago sa tabi ng bridge, sabi ko, 'there she is, she's right there'. Tuloy, lalong ako yung pinag-initan nung babae, so mega-tagalog na naman ako sa sigaw at gulat. Langya, langya, langya talaga!

Anyway, yun lang. Nakalabas naman kami ng maayos after around 20 minutes inside. Pero sooobra, sa dulo, pagod na ko, kahit tumili. Parang na-over-an sa adrenaline rush. A basta, punta pa rin kayo. Alangan ako lang makaexperience nun, at taga-tawa lang kayo. Ano, bale! Chaka pala, paki-sorry na lang ako dun sa nabatukan kong mumu (babae sya actually, so muma(?) ba ang tawag), chaka yung isa pa na naapakan ko paa. Pakisabi kasi naman, haharang-harang sya sa daan.

Lesson para sa english mumu: wag kasi kayong manakot ng pinoy, mag-tongues pa, mala-exorcist, lugi kayo, beh!

Happy Halloween!

Pundit ('Pundit ka din!')

I initially thought 'pundit' was a 'bad' word. Ha. Stupid me.

Anyway, this quiz says about me....

You Are a Pundit Blogger!

Your blog is smart, insightful, and always a quality read. Truly appreciated by many, surpassed by only a few.

What kind of blogger are you?

For those who, like me, are not in the know about what this word is --- according to www.dictionary.com, it means:
A source of opinion; a critic: a political pundit.
A learned person.

Of course, it also means 'a learned man in India', but I don't think that's applicable to me, na-uh.

Anyway, happy halloween to all! Hope you all get the scare of your lives this weekend ;D

PS. Thanks to Lotus, coz I got to the quiz via her blog...

To C3

Note: Somewhere in this huge world-wide web, my sister wrote me an open letter. This letter from someone who saw me at my best and worst (or if she didn’t see me, I told her about it haha). And someone who used to hate being touched or given advice. Now, more than ever, because of where we are in our lives, we are on the same page about most matters. And this is my candid reply to her.

C3,
When we both were young, there was jealousy, I have to admit. You were the favorite, and C1 and I got slapped around like the household-help, with 5 pesos to get us through the school day. I remember many a time when I got scolded because of something you told her I did (which I may or may not have done, memory is weird that way) or something you did but did not ‘fess up to. And so the anger and resentment built up until she finally left and we were ‘mommyless’. You were still with her then, and I could only imagine the pain, physical and emotional, that you went through. Papa, C1, and I formed this alliance in the midst of all our differing sources of pain, and got you and C4 back. And in my naivete, I thanked God that we had gotten our happy ever after.

But I was mistaken.

We were all broken. Papa, C1, me, you, and C4. And it seemed as if there was no energy left in any one of us to stand up, move on, and make our own history. C1, bless her, did her best, at her young age, while I battled my demon ‘insecurity’ that gave way to anger, jealousy, and hatred.
One day, however, a wise man sat me down and told me what no one had told me before. That I was stronger than I had thought I was. And that I was beautiful. Inside and out. I remember I cried because in my whole 15 years in this world, no one had told me that. He also said that hurting others was not going to solve anything. It was papa. And, you know how hard I tried after that.

Thing is, when you’re 16 and forced to save your whole family from drowning, and nurse them back to physical, mental, and emotional help, there no book to help you. There’s only what you see, what you hear, and what experience taught you. I know I’ve said this a million times, but no one taught me that discipline needn’t always come with a blow to the body or mind. She showed me that by example, and I --- eager to fill in for all our sakes’ – I didn’t know top from bottom of it.

And then one day, I woke up, and there was no anger. There was no jealousy. There was no hatred. There was the letting go of all the hurt that had bogged me down. And there was the potential of what kind of people we could be because we had gone through so much. And every time you spoke those words that made my soul cry (‘wala kang karapatan pagsabihan ako kasi hindi kita nanay’), I would just stand firm and dig deep to find that I had heard much stronger words, endured much hurtful punishments, and I survived. I knew not to believe your words because you were angry, and scared, and confused, and traumatized, just like I was.

It was a long and hard wait for me to see you grow up. Every step you took, I watched carefully. I look back now and I think I observed you like a mom would watch her baby take its first steps. I could not let you stray too far away. Rebellion was a part of the healing process, I knew, but I had to make sure you didn’t go ill-advised or you might never return. Sometimes, you would slam the door at me, and I would just get mad. Typical sibling-relationship, people would say. But inside I was hurt, because you were right, after all. I was not, and will never be your mother. I was your older sister, but I knew I had to be PERFECT to gain the respect that was never there for me before because of the past.

When we were younger, I chided you about you not singing good enough, and because of your competitive nature, you strove to be better at it (today, I am so proud of your accomplishments in singing). I realized that because of your upbringing, the way you achieve something is when someone tries to tell you that you can’t do it (I have a theory that’s how it is for most ‘spoiled’ kids, but that’s just me). So every time I knew you were going to get yourself into trouble, I’d double back and tell you the only reason you were doing it was because you couldn’t do any better. And you always proved me wrong, thank God. The singing, the grades, the friends, the college, the relationships --- they were all influenced, in one way or another, by me egging you on the opposite direction.

Four years of incorrect pseudo-parenting in high school, four years of swallowing my pride in college to get you to see things unjaded, 4 years of making sure you fit in with your college friends, them not knowing we were almost wallowing in material poverty.

12 years of my life, 1/3 of the whole time was probably spent nagging you about how your life was going, and giving you the direction you needed. I could say you have to repay me. I could say you need to start treating me better. But I can’t and I won’t. Because now is your time. I see you stand tall and confident in front of the world – no qualms, no insecurities, no baggage. Just the bitchy ol’ capi that I’ve grown used to – minus the no-touch/door-slamming policy. After your tumultuous childhood and upbringing, I am very, very, very proud that you turned out to be this wonderful lady that make people do a double-take once they get to know. There was no motivation for any of us to, you know. But you did it. ‘Normal’ is a novelty word for us young traumatized souls. And though we will never be as ‘normal’ as the average girl, you are turning out exceptionally well in all facets of your life (well, except for the conyotic flair now and then)
Just as an aside, I’ve had people tell me before that I should also think of myself first before you guys, but it just couldn’t be. I was too proud to just let my family stagger along until we all bled out from exhaustion. It was hard to appear normal to others, and battle all our ‘crosses’ at the same time. It was hard to empathize with friends who got mad because their maid didn’t ‘make plantsa’ their clothes right when I went home and faced our struggle to pay our maid and keep the house afloat.

I’ve also had friends who just listened. And friends who treated me no different than the next person, and these kind are great for your holistic formation. You don’t get breaks just because you’ve had a harder life. You grow, and become wiser, and keep all the tools you developed and used.

Haay, c3. I’m so happy to see you flourishing. Juggling our life is not the easiest of crosses, I know, but always realize that some people are worse off. Like, Jeremy, for example. And though, I don’t recommend giving in to every little hand that comes up and tries to take from you, I do recommend looking around and seeing how lucky you are. You are alive & well, got a good education, have better-than-the-average-pinoy’s-health, and blessed with a father who, in his extremity in goodness, will teach you where you need to be in order to walk in his shoes, and be realistic at the same time.

If there’s one thing that I learned from these past 12 or so years, it was that we are all dealt a different hand. But each hand has its merits. Play your merits, and throw those ugly baggage-filled cards that don’t make sense. Get what you can out of life. Love your family and yourself in equal amounts, and be wise enough to know when one NEEDS to take precedence over the other.

There’s still around 50+ years’ worth of breath left in me, so I will still be here, egging you on, holding your hand, and raising the standards for what legacy we need to leave in this world. And you will still be there, being the sungit-kulit person that you are, amazing me each moment with your wit and wisdom. You shuld know that in my head you are still 16 years old. I fear that until I am 40, I will still see you this way. Hahaha. That might be a good thing.

Anyway, as papa always says, ‘Your family is all you’ve got in the end’, and for us, it’s all only just beginning.

PS. Do you remember, we used to belt out Mariah's 'Make It Happen'? That's one of my life anthems hahaha.

Firsts in NC

I headed to North Carolina this past weekend with the boyfriend to meet up with his family to watch the youngest bro's last rugby game this season. It was a 5 1/2-hour road trip, but well worth it. Saturday turned out to be a day of firsts.

It was my first time to see a college campus. I had seen some campuses on the TV, but seeing it with my own eyes was very different. Especially in autumn. Wake Forest has a very nice campus, not to mention that they educate lots of pretty girls. Woohoohoo. The tomboy in me was definitely impressed mwahahahaha. The campus made me feel like I was back in college for a while, especially since I look young enough (to Amerians, mind you) to be one ;D

It was also the first time I watched people play rugby. Nasty (very nasty) game. Now I don't wonder how the bf broke his ribs in a game while he was in college. The youngest brother was co-captain, and seemed popular with everyone. People recognized him when he had the ball, and cheered him on. I guess the orange hair helped too hahaha. Anyway, they won...24-19. Barely. And not without injury. But, hurrah, still. And, if you're wondering, yes it was me, the bf, his other brother, and parents watching. It was actually very cool. I never experienced having my family around for a competition. It impressed me to no end that the whole family was there, cheering him on, and he didn't seem embarrassed (unlike most college boys who detest having their family attend their extra-curricular activities).

The day went on, I took some autumn pictures, formal dinner with all, and then we separated. Me, the bf, and the other brother went with the youngest to hang out in his apartment, while the parents went retired to the hotel. But the youngest had a homecoming dance to go to, and we planned for the three of us to just stay in the apartment after he left with his roommates and date. Drinks were poured, and before we knew it, we were talked into going to their homecoming dance. I was amazed. They felt we were cool enough to hang out with them!?! 28, 25, and 25 were our ages, but we went anyway. And we not only drank there, we danced too. Ha. HA! Never mind that other folks kept looking at us like we were gatecrashers. The youngest introduced us to everyone as (his older brothers and his brother's gf) his guests. His friends also hung out with us, so no one felt uncomfortable. It ranks as one of the best times I've had partying in the US, for sure. So, yeah, I also attended my first homecoming dance.

I felt like I was in my own version of Seventh Heaven with these people. Their parents must have done something right for them to turn out this way. I learned a lesson or two that day about the word 'siblings' and the reality of 'family'.



The trip home was a little surreal just because the whole weekend seemed like a dream over too quickly. But I woke up and the boyfriend was still holding my hand, and all was good. Plus, there's still Thanksgiving.

Wu-tu-tu!

My life in pounds

Note: I’ve been thinking about how to blog this without sounding too confident or overtly insecure. I may be one or both of those, but weight was never something in which they applied. Not even now.

Weight was never an issue for me when I was growing. I was part of the track and field team all throughout my high school life, so maybe that helped. But I ate what I wanted when I wanted to. In college, I retained the figure because I had my running PE class for 1 sem, I had my extra-curricular activities (active in 8 orgs will you believe it haha) for 1 sem, core officer of two organizations in my senior year, and starved myself by ignorance ("Anorexic tendencies? Me? Doc, you must be mistaken.") in exchange for a place in the dean’s list for another year.

Graduation and a tumultuous short-lived love affair kept my appetite low for a few months after graduation.

Then, came Grilla, a restaurant and bar in Antipolo that I was supervisor of, together with one of my now-girlfriends (the girl in the Friend or Friendsters post below). That was six months of around 6 to 7 hours of sleep a day, minimum 10 hours of stay at work (almost always til past midnight), and lost appetite (yeah, that’s what happens when you hang around food all day).
At my heaviest, I was 89 pounds. At my lowest, I was at 72("Anorexic tendencies? Me? Doc, you lie."). Either way, no concern whatsoever for my weight.

Perfect.

But, after 6 months of working non-stop (resto supervisors only get 1 day off a week) for less pay than I could potentially make, I finally listened to my dad and jumped into the corporate world --- manageable workload, established processes, business suits, 8-5, yuppies.
The first bout of instant weight gain was the 2 weeks I spent in company training in Illinois. When I went home, BOOM! Everyone, including myself, noticed the weight gain. I tipped the scales at 93, from a previous weight of 85. Eight lousy pounds, you might think. Nah, those are eight big pounds for a girl who was blessed by God and her parents to not reach the 5 feet mark (almost, but not quite. Oh daddeh!). So 8 pounds on me make my tummy, waist, upper arms, and face bigger. It sucked. So I tried to get my weight back down to what it was before, but it wouldn’t budge even though I ate less. The lowest I got was 89. I attributed it to my bones growing bigger in size ("who you kiddin’?").

So 93-lb me went on with my workaday world, trying to ‘exceed expectations’, per company standards. Then, last year, I was sent to the US for some face-to-face client work for 6 months. I gained a few pounds, went up to 98, and I was starting to get concerned, when WHAM! Then-boyfriend broke up with me. NO appetite for food (or for anything else, for that matter), I went back down to 89. In fact, I got home to Manila after my 6-month stint and a coworker exclaimed "Ang payat mo! Ikaw lang ang napadala dun na bumalik dito ng mas mapayat" (‘You’re so thin. Youre the only one who was sent to the US who came back thinner’). I just laughed it off, but it was one of the very few good things that happened to me due to the breakup. Then, I got all better and started going out again. End of November, I was told that I was going to be assigned to the US again, right after my birthday. I was so glad to get the opportunity that (I guess) I started eating more --- my birthday, despedida, Christmas, and New Year. Right around February, I tipped the scales at a hundred. I went home and went to Boracay, and came back here after being told I looked like was getting bigger. Now, as you know, in September, I again went home briefly for a vaca. This time, everyone (as in EVERY SINGLE ONE) told me I was fat. I didn’t realize I grew so big. But I checked the scales and I was at 115 pounds.

115 lbs.

What!?!

WHAT!?!

But I wasn’t too concerned. Because I still felt that I was healthy, I wasn’t sickly, and my boyfriend loved my body just the way it was. Besides, my retort was "Ang cute ‘di ba?! Ang daming napipisil," with matching bubbly laughter. I felt as good as my laugh. I told people I would lose weight once I got tired of looking fat (same principle as hair coloring or nail decorations).

So now, here I am. I’ve started going to the gym again. Not because I want people to stop telling me I’m fat, but because I want to fit comfortably in my clothes again. I used to fit in a size 0 here. Now, I fit a size 2. Not bad, really, but I could do better. But I’m not starving myself. I’m eating three times a day and going to the gym three times a week now (with David Koz and Miles Davis). I feel like I can relate to obese people who used to be thin. I have crossed the line. The ‘ideal weight’ for my height was 92-98, I once read. And the 113 lbs that I carry now is way above that. My goal is just to get back to 95. Slowly. Surely. And without minding people calling me FAT. I am doing this for myself, not to please other people. Once I feel less sluggish and more fit (six-pack, here we come hahaha), I will stop.

So to people like me out there, love your body, love your mind, and don’t think twice about what other people say about how you look like. It only matters if it affects your health. How you look inside, no matter how overweight you think you look outside, will always, ALWAYS reflect on the outside IN THE END.

Here's to climbing 1,027 feet in a little less than 10 minutes last night (thanks, stairmaster), and the side advantage of bigger boobs care of MORE FAT (go 36-B!) hahaha.

Ayos sa blow-by-blow noh.

Whappppaaaaaaaaaaaaakkkkkkkkkk.

Da Sekan Chapter op Spokening Dollars

BORING
Last night, I chatted with a friend. He’s very good-looking, almost to the point of being mistaken for a model. And he’s nice. And with him, chivalry is not dead. Kaso, eto:
Him: BUZZ
Me: Hey there
Him: how ya?
Me: same old, same old…ikaw?
Him: eto, I’m boring coz the gimik tonight is canceled.

Blagag.

He’s boring? Into what? Okay, okay. He was bored. Because his night out with friends WAS CANCELLED. Susmaryosep.

Why do we murder english? Why? Why??

Pwede naman mag-Tagalog e. Hindi bawal. Sige, kahit nga i-taglish mo na tsong, payag na ‘ko. Pero ‘I’m boring’…’I’M BORING’.

Susmaryosep.

I don’t understand why people murder the english language. Or the tagalog language, for that matter. If you want speak in english, go ahead. If you’re not very good at that, say it in Filipino. Kahit bisaya. Kahit pa nga yung nakasanayang taglish, pwede na e.

Holy Kamote.

Definitely negative pogi points ‘to, tsong.

MUMI-ME
Sometimes, too, friendster is such a nice tool to peep into old friends’ lives. Take for example this guy friend from highschool who apparently saw me on friendster:
Huy ******,
Kamusta? Long time, no see a. Nasa states ka? Astig. Layo na rin ng napuntahan mo a. Me, andito sa Davao ------------------

Okay, okay. Let me not reveal the whole letter. Pero naman, inaykupo, using the word ‘me’ as a sentence subject?!? Pwede ka bang tadyakan pabalik sa grade four? Susme bata. Mamamatay ang english teacher mo sa kunsumisyon siguro pag narinig ka. Unang-una, hindi naman ginagamit na pang-subject ang ‘me’. Pangalawa, ang sagwa talaga pakinggan, kahit sabihin mo pa na ‘Andito me sa Davao’. Holy Guacamoli! Goodness gracious! Nakanangteteng!

PILITIN BA
Okay, sige na, A for A-ffort na, kahit feeling ko nagpapacute ang mga nagfeefeeling mag-taglish, pagbigyan na. Understandable din naman siguro kung puro shortcut sila mag-text…So, ang labas, ‘Hw r u ryt nw? kumain n b u? Me knina p.’ O ‘di ‘ba? Malinaw na malabo. Parang pigil na pigil ang mga salita.

Pero eto ang pinakamalupit sa lahat --- at pinakamapapatawad ko. Na kung sa mga ‘noboboring’ at ‘mumime’ napapangiwi ako at kumukunot ang noo ko, eto natatawa lang ako. Hindi ko kokopyahin yung buo, pero here’s the link to ithinkthereforeiam’s site if you wanna read all of it. It’s by English students, I guess, in a Philippine University….

"i was bored in the middle of death, staying indoors from quite a long time, no i decided to go out to see close the beauty of nature. as i sat below the soft green grass. i looked around and something in the beauties of nature has to offer. everything was beautiful, however something to afound out at, that was the fiery and glorious sun, slowly hiding behind itself in horizon. how beautiful are things around me!being on top of a hill i has hind eye views of the valley, meadows and fields below. what a panoramic view it was!"

Nya-ha-hay.

Josko, patawin po.

'Yun lang.

NB. Yes, I’m very critical of people who speak Taglish or English. And although I’m not perfect at it, at least I know to speak in Filipino when in doubt. Or to go to http://www.dictionary.com/. And, yes, I do have friends who don’t speak perfect english, but don’t you worry, I try and do my part and correct them whenever I can ;D Evil, yes. May K, yes pa rin. Go lang ng go!

Friends or Friendsters?

I sent out this bulletin in Friendster, and asked people to answer and send me the reply. Here's 2 comparable answers to chosen questions by two really good friends --- one a girl(G), another a guy(B) --- and this shows how much they know me, or they don't haha ;D

Where did we meet?
G: in grilla
B: Office syempre… orientation ata first… don sa parang boardroom sa *bldg name*? 5th floor, I think

How well do you know me? In a scale of 1-> 10?
G: 7
ME: Kasi naman, nag-japan with the hubby hahaha
B: Before? Siguro mga 8… now, mga 6 or 7 na lang… and di ba dapat “on a scale of…” hehehe
ME: you're right, B. good. if there's one thing na nahawa ka yata sa akin, it's being overly critical of english grammar hahaha....

When you first saw me, what was your impression?
G: confident and outspoken
B: First thing I noticed was your hair… sobrang weird ng color… kasi di even yung pag color sa kanya, halo-halo… may black, may white, may brown, may bright gold… hahahaha!
ME: bright gold? ala-rainbow brite...jeez hehe..confident, yes...outspoken, korek din!

Hair color?
G: pabago-bago ka ng color eh hindi ko na lam ngayon.
B: Who could ever know? Hahahaha!
ME: and I thought you guys didn't notice mwahahaha

What's one of my favorite things to do?
G: to drink coffee
B: Read. Talk about other people? Hehehe.
ME: DING DING DING DING DING! Currrrrrrrrreeeeeeeeeectttttttttttttt!

Am I a rebel or do I follow all the rules?
G: rebel
B: Rebel through and through
ME: hmmm...consistent a..and I just made a post saying i was 'normal'. fine, rebel na nga kung rebel (chika lang!)

Do you remember one of the 1st things I said to you?
G: you want to have a child at your early 20s.
ME: Obvious ba, wala pa hahaha
B: And I quote “Cute ni Teddy-baddedy ano? “
ME: B, you're such a liar!!!!!!!!!! hahaha. I did not say that! Ewwww! Badeddy is my yosi buddy, and yosi buddy alone :P

Have you ever seen me cry?
G: definitely many times na!!!
B: Nope. I’ve seen you get drunk though. Very drunk. Remember that night in San Francisco? Teka, what am I talking about, of course di mo maaalala! Mwahahahaha!
ME: Hehehe. Not funny, B.

If there was one good nickname for me, what would it be?
G: m' *****
B: Bads talaga. =)
ME: Alam mo, chong, di ko na tlga maalala san galing yang 'BADS' na yan:P

If we're together, are you proud of me?
G: oo naman!!!
ME: lakas ko talaga sayo hahaha
B: It depends… libre mo ba ako? =)
ME: grrrrrrr

When was the last time we spent time together?
G: feb 13, 2004 before you left for the states
ME: Miss ko na kaw, G!!!!!!!!!!!!!
B: Last Monday of September ata… basta it was a Monday… tambay lang sa Megamall… kwentuhan and asaran… hehehe. Couldn’t say spending time with you was ever boring. =)

Am i the type you'd want to marry?
G: nyek!!! hindi noh babae po ako!!!
ME: Okay lang, pede naman ako maging lalake e mwahahaha (kahit sa dancefloor lang, wink wink haha....WHAPPPPAAAAAAAAAKKKKKKK!!!!)
B: You’re the type I’d want as a sister. Honestly. You’d make a great sister… kahit mom…
ME: aww shucks..I'm so flattered..pero tama na yung mga kapatid na pinapalaki, plus tatay ko pa. ayaw ko na ikaw isama, lalo pa't 'nagbibinata' ka these days haha

If, in one hour, I'll be gone forever...what will be your last words for me?
G: God will always be at your side.
B: San yung pasalubong ko? Hahaha! Ummm… seriously, I’d tell you I’m glad I got to know you. You’re one of the best friends I made in *company name* =)

Sigh.

Just another reason I miss being in Manila, hanging out with my friends. The really good ones.

Freefalling

Yep.

Uh-huh.

You're right. I went skydiving.

Yes I did.

I wasn't scared or anxious nor did I have butterflies in the pit of my stomach. But in the very slow nanoseconds when I was freefalling, I suddenly knew what life was about. I suddenly understood how I was able to be bigger than the trauma that caught my childhood offguard. I suddenly felt big and small and high and blessed and I surrendered. To gravity. To God. To life.

It was amazing and truly, truly indescribable. And as my partner released the parachute, a lone tear trickled from each eye. I could reason out that it was the cold and air. But it was really me, awed in the face of 'I am who am'.

I was a humbled 'I' in the face of total and complete surrender.

And right before I stepped out onto the ledge, the bf pressed my hand and mouthed 'I love you, baby'. And in the face of such fear, he loved me. And in the face of such love, I could not fear.

NB: On a much lighter note, we did a night tandem jump. My partner told me this was only the 2nd time in 8 and a half years that they'd done it with amateurs. He congratulated me once we were on the ground. And he apologized for having to make us wait (We were supposed to jump at 130 pm, but the wind did not permit it. We finally boarded the biplane at around 615 and jumped around 645pm.), but it was not needed. It was well worth the wait.

Friday Night Lights

Saw this movie with the boyfriend and was very, very impressed with the whole thing. After the movie, at the parking lot, headed towards the car:
me: wow, that one guy is now a lawyer...so he was totally not a jock...amazing!
the bf: jj was a jock (referring to his roommate who watched the movie with us)
me: really?
the bf: yep. he played at state too..in college..
me: really?
the bf: yep.
me: did he win?
the bf: no.

hahaha.

then, while driving home:
me: so when can someone be called a 'jock', in US terms?
the bf: well, it depends. in high school, if they play sports a lot, then they can be labelled.
me: so you were a jock?
the bf: i guess
me: wow. amazing (pause) so technically, i'm dating a jock?
the bf: umm. i guess so.
me: that's amazing. and weren't you captain of the rugby team too?
the bf: (pause) yep..and wrestling and football in high school
me: (stunned...thinking 'my boyfriend can beat people up'...and internally gawking) that's amazing! (still stunned)
the bf: hmm..now that i think about it, i was captain of all the sports I played in (aside: okay, okay, maybe he didn't exactly say it this way...he said it in a more matter-of-factly tone)
me: OH MY GAWD. That is unbelievably amazing, mr. overachiever...

The boyfriend was also part of the National Sailing Team in Canada, and the #2 skier in Quebec, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera...oh, and he was also president of his fraternity in college.

If I wasn't impressed by this guy when I met him (which I was, mind you), I am now.

Oh boy. Surprise of surprises. My humble, caring, huggable, cute boyfriend is a bad-ass.

HaHaHa.

Now, let's see you mess with this jock's girlfriend mwahahaha.

Chika lang! Pero astig eh noh?

Note: The only thing I accomplished when I was studying was a couple of medals for running in HS and a measly 3-semester dean's list. I was even less than .50 (yes, decimal places, demmit) short of being cum laude. And I thought I was an overachiever. Tawa na lang! Cute pa rin naman e hehe. ;D
Sigh. Buti na lang Friday. Relak na lang.

Cruisin' with Koz, Crooning with Crow

Last night I decided to go to the gym and do some exercisin' (ho-hum, getting back to that trimmer figure, hell yeah!). So I changed from work attire to gym attire and was about to leave when, suddenly, my eyes locked upon the new discman that lovey gave me a few weeks back. I hadn't really broken it in yet. So I grabbed it, and brought it along with me. The cd inside, was David Koz. I guess it's what you call a modern jazz compilation (or maybe not, I don't pretend to be an expert here, so leave me alone, fool!)...But, anyways, I ran around 4 miles on it. An extreme feat, considering I hadn't exercised in like A CENTURY!!! Nah, I'm kidding. But the last time I remember heading to the year, I think, was last year, also when I was here in VA, but for a different client engagement. So, anyway, I ran, and I didn't much feel the stress or the fatigue (i.e. 'di ako agad nawindang mwahaha) until I was on the fourth mile. That's how cool the tracks were. It was very relaxing music indeed. Not 'sleepy' relaxing, but 'cruising' relaxing. And, then, I went back up to my lil ol' apartment and did some stretching, and then some inverted sit-ups and 30 push-ups (rarrrrrr), etc. etc. etc. And then I felt so alive that after that CD was done, I switched to Sheryl Crow's Ultimate(?) Collection. That was cool too.

I guess what made the whole experience much more serene was the fact that I hadn't really listened to music in a long time (i.e. 3 months). And when I say 'listen', I mean to be taken away from the present and be submerged in the magical world of notes and lyrics and emotions.

As Sheryl Crow crooned ---- 'I'm gonna soak up the Sun'.

And, oh, was it ever soaked in such perfection.

My Sistah

For those of you who love(eek, too strong a word, lol) my i-don't-care-what-you-think-but-this-is-me writing, I urge you to check out kofikat's blog. She's also on my links so you might wanna link her up too. She's my sister. IRL. And, gosh, I'm surprised that she writes and kinda thinks like I used to.

I feel a song coming on........no......nO.........NO....NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!

Hey, sister go, sister so, sister go, sister.....

Stop.

ULULLLLLLLLL

Ahem, excuse my french.

Anyway, it's nice to pick the brain of this girl who will forever be 16 years old in my brain. She's gone a long way and has gone through a lot. Like sister, like sister. Haha. She thinks she's one of a kind 'cause she has the JC Saviour syndrome...

Help me tell her, LIFE'S LIKE THAT. Chuuguug!

Nyahaha.

Nah, really. I love this girl who looks like Christina Ricci (oh yes, really...you'll see evidence in friendster), sings like Angelica Church (ahem, nainggit kasi sa ate lol), drinks cofee like a sowzy beettchhhh, but is as enthusiastic about ukay-ukay cheap treasure finds as the next jolog person.

Go na! Now! Let me know kung may wrong grammar, will ya? Pagsasabihan natin..Kakahiya, kadugo pa naman. LOL.

Joke lang, kapatid. To quote Eminem, 'You know I love you.'

Spokening Dollars

The first week I was back here from my vacation in Manila, I got so homesick....

Paumanhin sa iba, pero itatagalog ko na. Mas malutong e. (I apologize to the others, but I will write in Filipino because it sounds "crunchier", *hala, crunchier daw!* er... i mean, juicier haha).

'Di naman dahil sa gusto ko na umuwi (although gusto ko na rin, in a way...pero inuunahan ko sarili ko...teka). Kaya lang, nakakapagod mag-ingles ha! Susmaryosep ginuu, minsan talaga nauubusan na ko ng Ingles. Halimbawa na lang, gusto ko sabihin na 'feeling ko di mo naiintindihan yung nararamdaman ko'....nagiging 'i feel that you don't feel what i feel'. Nyak. Naiiba yung ibig sabihin, di ba. Sowsmeh! Buti na lang may class akong kinuha nung kolehiyo na 'Cross-Cultural Communication'. Nakatulong din naman kahit papano, para medyo maintindihan ko ang pinagsasasabi ng mga onak dito. Mantakin mong tawagin akong 'hoss' ng officemate ko. Shempre, nung una, kiber, as if alam ko ang ibig sabihin. Pagtapos siguro ng isang buwan, finally, inamin ko na rin sa kanya na di ko alam ano ibig sabihin nun. E hinanap ko na rin sa internet, e ni di ko alam anong tamang spelling, susme! 'Hos' ba or 'hoss' or 'hosse' or as in 'kabayo na prinonounce ng british english'!??! Ayan, suko din ako, tinanong ko kay seatmate Steve, shempre pasimple din ang tanong ng lola nyo, para di halatang boklog haha. Colloquial term pala sya. Parang 'bro' o sa 'Pinas naman e 'chong', 'pare', o 'sistaru'.

Pero nakakatawa rin minsan, kasi parang ang normal na nyang dumudulas sa bibig ko. Yung ingles ha, baka kung ano iniisip nyo dyan sus! Ayun, minsan 'pag inaalala ko kung ano yung pinag-usapan namin tungkol sa isang proyektong ginawa namin, ang naaalala ko sa utak ko, false memories na tagalog. Nakakatawa nga, kasi minsan tuloy, nangyayaring mas kaya kong ipaliwanag ang sarili ko sa ingles kesa Pilipino. Baka talaga lumiliit na ang bokabularyong sakop ng utak ko, kasi bihira na ang paggamit. Haaaay.

(time-out...)

Tamo, tamo, pati yung 'haaaay', ang unang pumasok sa isip ko e yung salitang 'sigh'.

Que barbaridad, iba na itow! Ika nga ng kapatid ko, 'relasyon na itow'.

Minsan din tuloy, nung nasa Pinas ako, nag-order ako. Aba, di naintindihan ng barista ang order, kasi naman ako aanga-anga, lumabas ang American english accent, di tuloy ako nagets nung mama. Wawa naman. Muntik na ko matawa mag-isa dun.

Minsan nga, tong kasintahan (naks, kasintahan ka dyan, boypren lang yan ulul haha) ko, pag nagkakaroon kami ng di pagkakaintindihan, bigla ko na lang sinasabi 'Ay nako, bahala ka dyan sa buhay mo, mag-ingles ka dyan mag-isa mo'. Matatawa na lang yun at sasagot ng 'Makahakalakadakasaka'. Tawanan na lang kami. Kasi naman....Korek, sister. Ganyan ang dinig nila sa normal nating pagsasalita. Minsan naman, sinasabi ko 'Magtagalog ka nga!!!!!'...at alam mo ang sagot sa akin??! Korek! 'Makahakalakadakasaka'. Pero, in fairness ha, may alam din naman syang Filipino, kahit konti. Kaya minsan, imbis na yun ang sagot, sasabihin nya 'mabuti', o kaya naman 'salamat'. Hay naku. At least 'A' for A-ffort di ba.

Yun lang naman. Kaya nakakamiss angPilipinas. Hindi lang yung pagtatagalog, pero yung mga kakalokang bading at kolokyal na termino na gamit natin. Diba? Diba?

Kaloka talaga.

O sya, balik spokening dollars na.
Sigh.....

What's so wrong about being normal?

There's a dilemma and I think I know how to fix it.

See, the dilemma is in my head. It started like a tiny air bubble in my brain. Now, there's total chaos as the idea seems to be boiling and overflowing.

It seems everyone nowadays wants to be ABnormal. I mean, some wear the name BITCH with pride. Every other girl's blog I visit has the subtitle with something along the lines of 'crazy','sexy','cool' (yeah, yeah, it's a song, but I wanna use, so lay off). Something that just five years ago would have been hurled as an insult. Now it's common language?!?

Calm down.

Okay, okay, I'm calming down.

It's just weird. When I started acting like the bitch that I was (still am), it was unacceptable. People practically shun you for being so. For thinking liberally. For doing things that, in the Philippine society, 'only men do'. NO, I said. What men can do, women can do (sometimes, even better). Now, there's a ton of people claiming to feel/think/be the same way. Initially, I think that's a good thing. But then, where does that leave me?

It leaves me in the NORMAL category. (disdain the sound of that word, ech!)

It actually makes me feel ....complacent. I mean, there are others who can help change the way society thinks. But, then again, it makes me feel...hmmm...i dunno...NORMAL.

Potah!

I'm normal!
I'm normal?
I'm normal.

You don't know how eerily happy that makes me feel.

So now, I know that there are still a lot of people out there who are not vocal, and who still think in old-fashioned-culture -- i.e. woman stays at home, wait for the man to do all things fun, and then just bear kids -- but then, there are also folks like me (and you, probably, if you are a friend, or are someone who likes reading what I write haha) who think all is fair in love and gender.

So, what's wrong about being normal?

Nothing.

Whew.

Except I need to not be tied down to today's definition of a bitch...or a psycho, or a delusional overanalyzer, or perrenial kontrabida-cun-chuvalu.

Now having a definition for what I am, that would be wrong.

Totally wrong.

But don't think anyone will ever figure that one out.

Good. Whew.

Where Washington Lived

I went to my very first wine-tasting event this past weekend. And, no, I didn't get drunk.

It was a surprise, really. The boyfriend and I had planned to go to Mt. Vernon a while back. And Sunday seemed the perfect day to do it. Right after another surprise --- the boyfriend agreed to go to Church with me. But the latter is another story altogether.

So we checked the website, and found that there was a wine-teasting event going on there on the same day too! Coolness. And so off we went, after mass, to see where George Washington lived.

To say the estate was big is an understatement. It was huge. And very, very 1800's. The main house was separated from the workers' houses. Yes, houses. Apparently, GW had a farm and had lucrative businesses going. He was an entrepreneur. And so they sold paint, linen, and vegetables, among other things. And for these, he had an overseer, clerk, servants, and slaves too. Plus, guess what part of the house was separated from the main house? The kitchen. Yep, the kitchen. Very intriguing. But as we walked in the darkness, I could still imagine the house being a setting for an 1800's movie. Maids walking around in their uniform, GW in his pressed attire, the missus entertaining guests in their backyard (which coincidentally faces the river, oh what a lovely sight!), and the other people dong their own jobs.

I know, I know. Boring. It's really a lot more interesting if you see it for yourself. To go on a virtual tour, click here.

The wine-tasting went on in the gardens, to the left of the main house's backyard. It was fantastic. The boyfriend had fun too, and so did a friend of mine who we brought along. We ended up having dinner while listening to acoustic performers play old folk songs, and bought 3 bottles of wine, all white. Country Blush and Apple. I forget the winery name, but you must try it if you see it around.

Ah, what a lovely day that was. But I sure would hate to live in that era, seeing as how the toilets were separated from the main house.

Na-uh. Not on GW's life.

8th going to 14th

Don't you just love it when you'r just walking along, minding your own business, having let go of the past, being content and moving along, and then something unexpected happens.

The world moves.

No, I don't mean that the world MOVED, but it did, sorta.

Like, one moment you're on 8th street turning the corner to 14th street, you're well aware that everything is as it should be on that corner. You turn, and WHAM! What's in front of you is now behind you and what was 8th street at your back, is now 8th street in front of you.

Quantum Leap, maybe? Or the world just moved in a little quicker pace than you expected it, so you're a little disoriented. Whatever the case, though, you're a little out of step, out of sorts, out of sync.

Say, you finished claiming your passport at the DFA early, and suddenly felt like meeting up with your sister. That in itself is the world moving a little faster because you know you rarely ever make the effort to see her for many many reasons. But, hell, take it in stride. Then, you sit there, sipping you cappucino, waiting for her and reading a book. She arrives, and you chat a bit. Now, it gets weird. Because she and you are on totally different planes, but here and now, everything is just right. And you crack jokes. She laughs. She can see your happiness and you can see her contentedness and you both comment on it. And then....
'Ummm, excuse me,' someone taps you on the shoulder.
You look up, expecting someone to ask for a light, or directions or something. But it isn't. It's Jake.

Ok, I'm coming clean. The girl was me. Hahaha.

Jake was a blockmate in college who people always said looked pretty good despite being very simple. But who was also a "chicker". I never talked to him (except for that one time when we were groupmates for Theology) . Why? Because, I felt by not talking to him, I brought some weird balance to the world. I have this thing about people who I think KNOW that people are after them. People who KNOW that they look good. In my mind, I make the judgement that they are only lesser evil than snobs because they are friendly. But I don't need to be friends with them. Especially becuse they might think I'm one of those people. So I don't. And I didn't with Jake. Ever.

In comes friendster and blogger.

And somehow, we start sending messages. And he calls me suplada. And I laugh it off and say I had my reasons. And I tell him I heard about him being a photographer now and am interested in that myself (I really, really am...just in case you're wondering if this was 'style' haha). He invites me to come with him on shoots, or better yet, go with him when he does his 'Asia Backpacking' tour. I am flattered and honored. But I say thanks, but not this time, I guess, because of two obvious reasons: 1) am in the US, and 2) moolah is not coming in droves. That's where the communication ended. And then, I went home with plans with friends, but none with this ex-blockmate, now-friendster, co-blogger, and idol-photographer.

And then, he tapped me on the shoulder. I felt so exposed to be seen by this photographer (read: scrutinizes visuals) in my gung-ho-DFA-go-go-go attire that I just wanted to disappear into thin air. But as quickly as he appeared, he rushed away to photograph some nice resto and I was left out-of-sorts.

Now, lunch was my okay-that-was-cool-but-get-over-that-coincidental-meeting time. After lunch, I went back to Starbucks to grab a cup of coffee, and sat with my sis on an outside table. Beside our table were girls dressed to kill, with matching make-up to boot, and shades. Sowzy. Pretty.

And they were waiting for Jake.

Now, the world was righted once again. Once again, he was the sought-after, and I had to balance the world. So when I saw him again (yes, same Starbucks...he met the 'models' there), KIBER (for english-spokening-dollars-peoples, that means I ignored him teeheehee).

And I was turning that corner towards 14th street again.
Ah, again, everything is as it should be.

10/08/04 NB: This is not a hate-post against Jake. I'm sure he's a very nice person, amicable, and humble. The proverbial cliche applies here --- "It's not him, it's me." Hahaha. So, Jake, if by any chance you read this (which I'm 99% sure you won't), now you know why I was "suplada" in college. See, I wasn't. :D