WEB-of-THOUGHTS

The congestion, the homeless, the encounter

2011-10-28T23:56:00.000-07:00

I resent traffic jams especially when I’m on my way to work in the mornings which is why I am not so fond of passing this 1.5 miles City driving route I take to enter the freeways. There is a newly opened school and a road construction that seemed to be taking forever to complete. Both contributes negatively to the time spent cruising this direction. But this blog is not just about the street congestion, it’s about an encounter while being stocked in the jam.

On this same obstructed street, you would often see homeless people begging drivers for money, which is common in Los Angeles, being the homeless capital of the United States. There’s this aged couple, the man dressed in Hawaiian shirt and the woman in Pink Sweater over a flowery printed dress and jeans. From their outfit and placard which says “Aloha!” you can assume they’re from Hawaii or at least that is what they are trying to convey, and I chose to believe. There’s also one or two middle-aged men dressed ruggedly carrying placards, one wrote “Hungry and Homeless…Please Help!”

So many helpless people depending to live by little cash each day but the one that makes my heart ache for pity whenever I see her on the street is a teen-aged looking woman with a backpack and carries a tote and a bunch of palm leaves on her hand. She makes flowers out of the palm leaves and offers it to drivers when the light turns red. Incidentally, the palm leaves and the flowers she makes remind me of Palm Sunday in the Philippines, a tradition I missed so much.

Usually, I see this girl in the afternoons, on my way home from work standing at the gas station. Last Monday, I saw her in the morning by the intersection. What hurts me most seeing her in the street is she is young, and she is a girl. I have two teen-aged sons, and it breaks my heart to see young people roam the streets because of homelessness. They are our future, they will pay the debts of the country, and they deserve to be in school, to be sheltered, to be cared of. And even if sometimes their teen logic is unacceptable and they rebel, we as older people should have stretched patience in dealing with our young.

I wonder if this girl ran away from home, is she an orphan? Did she eloped with a man and broke up with him later ashamed to go back home to her parents accepting she was wrong? Where is she spending the night? Where did she learn to make flowers of palm leaves? Did her parents taught her? her siblings maybe? Where are they? Why is she in the street? So many questions flash my mind as she walks towards my direction. This time, she doesn’t have palm leaves flowers , she just smiled so sweetly as I handed her the small bill, she said “God Bless You,” I responded “take care” but in my heart and mind, I whispered, “May God have you in His keeping.”

I continued to drive. I didn’t mind the traffic jam that much anymore.

I haven’t seen her since Monday and even if I want to see her again I hope not in the streets again.

attack of the mental block

2011-09-08T21:29:00.000-07:00

SIGN OF TIMES

As a kid, my friends and I would walk to the beach, ride our neighbors’ small fishing boats and dive into the waters realizing drowning is possible if you can’t swim. That’s how I learned how to swim, to survive drowning. My youngest son didn’t risk drowning, he learned to swim from You Tube.

My husband learned to do his tie from his father. My eldest son watched from You Tube.

I wanted to learn to make authentic Curry. My husband said, “I’ll get you a Cook Book!” To which the children reacted and said, the two of them at the same time, “Mommy, just check You Tube!”

Before, if you looked good in pictures, people will say you’re photogenic. Now, if you looked good in photos, people would say, “OMG, you looked Photoshopped!”

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I WRITE BECAUSE...

J.K. Rowling’s career is impressive. I secretly dreamed of becoming a writer too. But even if J.K. and I share the same birthday there is no way I could own a piece of her fortune from writing. She got fertile imagination that creates a magical world; she introduced flying brooms as public transport and dragons as pets.

J.K. is to fascination as I am to real world - the real challenging world where my written words are not really spectacular. J.K.’s words are translated in different languages and read all over the world, mine is on WWW with only 5 loyal readers. People pay to get hold of J.K.’s books; I bet not one person would pay a penny to read my musings. J.K. earned honors and awards for writing, the only recognition I receive are comments from affinities.

Why I write?

I write to connect my voice in this noisy world. It expresses me as a person and stimulates my being. Writing preserves my present and relives my past, a bridge to my still yet to be defined future...

a certain longing

2011-04-04T00:09:00.000-07:00

Two days ago I dreamt of her. This morning as I woke up, I prayed to God to let her know how much I miss her and that I love her very much, my grandmother whom I loved to call Mang. It’s her birthday today. Mang was the biggest influence in my life. I might have inherited her sweetness, her compassion, her love for cooking, and how she valued education, but I could never copy even an ounce of her patience. She was the epitome of a great mother, someone who sacrificed a lot for the sake of her children, and grandchildren, as in my case.

When I was younger, I lay my head on her lap and would easily fall asleep as she stroke my hair with her tender hands. I grew up with her stories which were my entertainment as a child, something I would love my children to experience but never experienced. Mang prayed day and night and lived with so much hope and perseverance. Something very difficult for me to emulate, even if I do pray a lot.

Time heals loneliness but it didn’t fill the emptiness. Something in me remained a child and I don’t know when it will stop longing for that certain comfort only Mang could fill. Two decades and a half since she was gone and I still want to sleep on her lap and feel her fingers run through my hair.

true nourishment (Part 2)

2011-03-09T22:18:00.000-08:00

Last week I told Abraham that they might not be able to attend Ash Wednesday services because I can’t take them to church, being so new at my job, I can’t miss work. But since he said he wanted to go, Brack shortened his hours and attended the mass with the boys while I went to St. Monica’s Church during my lunch break. As a mother, I felt good that, Abraham, being 17 at that, is not only enthusiastic about going to church, he is also interested in learning more about the Catholic practices. The other night, he asked about the relevance of Ash Wednesday, and at today’s service, the three of them, father and sons, served ushers.

I’m blessed I don’t need to force my children to go church, or have faith in God. Some parents are having a hard time doing it. Some children, as they grow and acquire more knowledge, tend to drift away from their faith. As soon as they start achieving, they develop the mind frame that they can do anything, or everything, by themselves and no intercession is needed. It’s good to be independent, but keep the faith.

I wonder how life is for people who do not have faith. When they are troubled what do they do? When they are down, or someone they love is sick, or when they need to accomplish something big, whom do they call?

Ash Wednesday reminds us, from dust we came, to dust we will return, but in between there is life. Imagine what peace it will bring us if we live life right.

true nourishment (Part I)

2011-02-27T17:46:00.000-08:00

When missionaries knock to evangelize their faith, I open my doors to them. This is because I respect other people’s beliefs, but more so, because I admire them for making the effort to reach out to as many people and persuade them to convert to their religion, notwithstanding, not being paid for doing so. My usual greeting would include a statement that mine is a Catholic household but they are welcome and if they leave me reading materials, they can be assured I would read it. Yes, I do read publications from different religions, I find those informative and enlightening, some writings even inspired me.

Keeping an open mind about worship and other religions though, makes me more attached and inspired to stick to mine. I love being Catholic, despite the intrigues, some true, most were not, other people throw on the church, I would still be faithful to the practice of the faith.

I was baptized and confirmed a Catholic, got my bachelor’s degree from a Catholic College, and moved on further to a Catholic University for graduate studies. When I was younger, I joined the Block Rosary group in my community and for a short time had served in the mass as lector. I did well in my theology classes, made sure I attended mass every Sunday and days of obligations, tried to be good the best I can, but that was it. I never really understood my faith deeply, nor had the desire to nourish or defend it until recent challenges had me searching for more than just complying with the routines.

When I gave up Facebook I had more time to build up knowledge of my faith and what matters most in life. The fruitful readings, the quiet moments, and the EWTN broadcast aided the realization.

back to work

2011-02-06T21:28:00.000-08:00

In between my on and off allergies which I don’t know where I got from, I survived my first week back to work. I must say the adjustment is not easy after being away from the corporate world for a long time. I am no longer used to waking up, taking a shower, and fixing myself early for work. I even felt a slight separation anxiety leaving home and not being able to pick up my boys from school. I think the brothers adjusted faster to taking a bus ride home than me driving and hustling with the traffic in 10 freeways, which is my daily route from Los Angeles to Santa Monica.

These difficulties though are not the highlight of my back to work experience because deep in my heart and mind, what I wanted to write is my appreciation for having a job. I twitted last week, “who needs recruiters when you have friends?” It is so hard to find a job this time, in fact competition is so stiff, getting an interview is even harder than auditioning for American Idol. As for me, thanks to my friend, Linda, she hooked me up.

In the midst of learning new skills, I have access to the awesome view of Santa Monica from our 20th floor office. At lunch, I even get the chance to enjoy the soothing cold breeze of air coming from the ocean. I am back walking the famous 3rd Street Promenade and if I’m luckier, I could even get a glance of movie stars, those dropping-off their kids at this posh daycare opposite our parking structure.

Once I acquired complete knowledge of the job, I’ll be relocated to Los Angeles’ Financial District which means my drive to work will only be 3 miles as compared to the current’s 18 miles plus traffic each way. How cool is that? I always loved working in Downtown LA; this is where I had most of my corporate experience. How fortunate am I given the chance to work in a place I wanted to be? Or rather, how blessed am I that the good Lord had always been arranging where I should be?

To the lady standing at the corner of our office building holding a carton sign that said “I’d rather work,” I pray that you will find something for you soon.

To everybody else, refrain from FaceBooking while at work and start loving your job more.

I love LA!

2011-01-21T17:58:00.000-08:00

According to LA Times, visitors ranked Los Angeles the rudest city in the US. The question is do you agree? Do I agree?

I browsed the comments from readers and I could say that most negative reactions posted bear truthness to it, specifically the car culture and the lack of common courtesy among drivers. I had a couple of first hand experiences of this lack of civility and even wrote about it in this old blog. What makes matters worst is, LA also has many uninsured drivers in the streets. My car was hit by one of them.

I have resided in Los Angeles for nine years now and despite the not-so-good things people said about this place and its indwellers, my fondness for this place grows more and more as the years go by. Infact, I could no longer imagine living anyplace else. The true beauty of LA lies in its fullness of life. It’s a buffet of everything you are looking for, starting with the weather, the beaches, the mountains, the forests, the entertainment, the food, and the shops. Dull moments? no such thing here. The place boasts of history, of melted cultures, and just enough noise that tranquility is still possible to find. Not to mention, my favorite basketball team is headquartered here, the Lakers.

I could go on enumerating the best of Los Angeles which I have seen and experienced as a resident which unfortunately the visitors who responded to the survey was not able to experience during their visit or short stay here. I cannot blame them. During my first visit here in 2000, I am not impressed as well. All I remember is the coldness of the tired employees at the shops, in restaurants, and the long lines of irritated people at theme parks.

LA's transport system is inferior compared to the commuter-friendly New York, the streets are definitely not as clean as Japan's, my favorite place of all, but because you are in the heart of everything, work and fun combined, I find Los Angeles a nice place to live.

There was a time I favored Orlando after my first visit there in 2006. I was impressed by the friendliness of the people, the clean environs, and the simplicity of living, I asked my children if they would want to move there. To which they responded, "Mommy, LA is where things happen, we are here, there is no reason to leave." There you go!

Come; live with us…in the city that is a world in itself. Here, I am sharing you the view from my bedroom window in the afternoon. In the mornings, it's even better :-)

Better yet, here’s another picture from a billboard in Nokia Plaza.

Jobs' reliever is a Job's reliever

2011-01-18T11:37:00.000-08:00

When Steve Jobs announced yesterday he is taking a medical leave to focus on his health, the stock market went ballistic and shaky. It’s so strong an impact; it stole attention from the massive flood that hit Australia. To holders of Apple stocks and those technology driven individuals, the earth somehow misaligned with its axis and won’t revolve properly until Jobs has a definite announcement of when he is returning to Apple. Why because, Jobs is not only a CEO but a doer, someone who makes things happen, right in this modern world we live in.

A lot of people, me included, are so amazed by the gadgets introduced by Apple, although, I do not own any of their product because of the cost to buy and cost to own factors, I still follow their launchings and new developments.

This morning, as I do my regular browsing of what’s going on with the world, I came across this video of Pranav Mistry, a student from MIT who developed a wearable computing system that turns any surface into an interactive display screen. As I watch the video, I said to myself, Steve Jobs should just hire this guy and concentrate on his health.

Shhhh...

2011-01-02T21:35:00.000-08:00

The sun shone brightly on the first day of 2011. It was inviting to drive to Pasadena and view the floats of roses which Brack and I initially planned to do. However, we decided, finishing Brack’s online course would be better than struggling to find a clean portable restroom in Pasadena, like what happened last year. I snuggled in bed and tuned-in to EWTN. The low volume of the TV lulled me to sleep and woke me up again about an hour later when the silent documentary movie called "Into Great Silence" was being played. Even without commentaries or sound effects, the solitude of the Carthusian Monks enriched me spiritually.

I know I could not live in great solitude like the Carthusian monks and nuns but recently, even before seeing this movie, I attempted to be quiet. In my silence, I read, listened, observed, and prayed more which made me more aware of those that matters most in life. I know this quietness is nothing compared to those of the monks, but somehow I felt serenity.

I told a friend I am enjoying the remoteness, when she asked why I’m no longer on Facebook. It is a breeze sometimes to take a break from the noise and chaos of this "chase the wind world" we live in, just don’t forget to go back to reality soon.

So for 2011, why not start it quiet?

TIME and LAUGHTER

2010-12-18T23:46:00.000-08:00

In tonight’s mass, our Pastor, in his homily, asked the congregation what they think is the best Christmas gift people can give one another. A girl said shelter. Indeed, is a really very good gift this season, considering a lot of people lost their homes to foreclosure, not counting those who are already homeless in the first place. Another said love is the best gift, to which our Pastor agreed and expounded on.

They are right, I think so too. Love is the best gift people can give one another. It is the beginning of everything good, but best as it is, I’d rather give it as a gift for Christmas, and I, receive the gift of time as a present. I’d be very grateful if the good Lord, on His birthday would bestow me the gift of time, a healthy long time to spend with family and friends.

The gift of laughter is another best gift for me. I want it for myself, for my loved ones, and for all the people in this world. When was the last time you laughed so hard it made you cry? It feels so good. I want more of those.

Okay, it’s your turn…

‘love my hair! (hope u love yours too!!!)

2010-12-07T22:49:00.000-08:00

I should be blogging about “Christmas” my most favorite occasion of all and how amazingly excited and calm I am, just listening to Christmas songs on the radio, but I can’t pretend to write happy when deep inside I am sad.

Last weekend, I attended a memorial service for my friend’s husband who lost his battle with leukemia. Today, Elizabeth Edwards succumbed to cancer. Although I have very limited emotional attachment to my friend’s husband and none at all to Elizabeth, I am saddened by their passing and at the same time, scared for myself. Being cancer-free for two years doesn’t give me any guarantee that the dreadful disease won’t come back. In effect, I am more paranoid than sad, when I hear people dying of cancer. But like every other person in this world, with or without cancer, our lives must go on, and we must not stop existing until called to rest.

Mrs. Edwards spoke of her struggles fighting the disease, including the depressing feelings she had when she lost her hair. Two years ago, I was a lonely bald woman receiving treatments too. It was December when I pretended to be well and went shopping like other people do. It was windy and the cold moist air messed up my wig, strands stacked in chunks, and impossible to fix. Without a brush, which I forgot at home, I told my husband to follow me to the door of the women’s restroom, and with onlookers, we separated the strands slowly, very careful not to pull-off the wig from my head. It was embarrassing. In the store, I can’t try-on the clothes I selected; scared of scrambling my wig again, I ended up leaving the clothes behind. It was doubly depressing to watch the other women shoppers who can fit as many clothes they want and enjoy the wind outside. I don’t regret they are well and I’m not, I envy they have hair and I don’t.

Hair? It’s just cosmetics. But when you are already sick and don’t look good at the same time, it’s major. This is just one of the many challenges of cancer patients. Something well people wouldn’t understand.

My hair is back, it is long, thick and wavy as it was before and I appreciate it more than ever. It’s bizarre; I am so thankful to God and so happy just having hair.

Cooking for the heart

2010-11-19T20:24:00.000-08:00

After dinner last night, my younger son saw me in front of the PC and teased me that I’m blogging about my latest kitchen gadget, the Pizza Oven. Actually I was about to, but lost the desire since he forestalled my idea so I just went downstairs and reran one of my favorite movies on the DVD player. I said I’ll just blog tomorrow when the kids are in school.

Tomorrow is today. I watched the morning news as usual then switched channels to EWTN for the Daily Mass. As soon as the mass started, I got a call from my friend Kristine. Kris was in tears as she told me Jeff, her husband passed away. She is the second friend who lost a husband this year. My other friend, Lori, lost Tommy in July. Kristine found a best friend in Jeff. Lori found a great companion in Tommy. They hurt deeply. I feel their pain.

I cried with Kristine on the phone but soon after we hanged-up, I said my rosaries for Jeff and head to the kitchen. I am not really planning to cook anything as I have stocked-up pizzas in the fridge because of my excitement with the Pizza Oven, but felt I have to. I must do something I love doing to brighten up my mood. I need to stay positive. So I went through the vegetable bin, the overhead cabinet, and started to create a meal.

I ended up making ham fried rice and vermicelli tomato chicken and clam soup. A soup that is not on any cook book, it is a recipe I created, today. I realized cooking not only brings-out creativeness but also lightens up a heavy heart.

'been there

2010-11-14T20:48:00.000-08:00

A foreign body in my eye took me to the Ophthalmologist at Kaiser. The eye doctor is in the same building, only one level below the Oncology Department which is in the 8th floor. There is only one hallway that served passage to four elevators so you’ll get to stand in this hallway or ride the elevators with patients going to oncology or to the other floors in the building.

Oncology patients are easy to spot, they usually wear hats, nice earrings, as in the case of female patients, looked pale, and had this sadness in their eyes. Sadness, that only those in the same situation or had experience the same, could decipher. The people who were getting chemotherapy in the 8th floor, I rode the elevator with them last Thursday. A ride that took me back in time. I’ve been there…

That 8th floor had been an important part of my life. I am in mixed emotions whenever I recall the years I spent there as an out-patient. I’m happy recalling the friendships I made with the nurses, the staff, and my doctor, who then reached time for retirement and transferred my care to a younger colleague, but there was also a pinch of pain I feel in my arms and hands whenever the needle pokes of the treatment and the blood works, comes to my mind.

Visiting this floor for two years allowed me to experience how holidays were observed (I used observed because it is more appropriate than “celebrate,” at least when you are in this floor) in a fragile environment filled with people in pain or suffering. I saw them change decors from Halloween, to Thanksgiving, then to Christmas, occasions which healthy people look forward to, but is just an ordinary day, perhaps another lonely day, for people hooked to chemo machines and tied in bed. I was once one of them and this experience is stacked in my head, but it was temporary.

I wanted to reach-out to the people I rode the elevator with last Thursday and tell them that better days are coming their way soon. I wanted to erase and clear the sadness in their eyes, just like how the eye drops cleared the foreign body in my eye.

The Children's Books (guilt of a working mother)

2010-11-09T18:39:00.000-08:00

The problem with cleaning our “dead stock” cabinet (this is the open rack of paper materials from our past) is that it sparks guilty feelings in me. Why because, the stock were mostly children’s books I bought when we just migrated to Los Angeles and had no time to read to the kids because I spent more time on overtime works, or studying courses in line with my job.

Those fine books could have enriched my children’s knowledge or attached them more to reading than being hooked with the computer. Had I known then what I knew now, I wouldn’t be overly concerned of providing for my children’s material needs. I could have spent longer time reading books to them and they’ll have more stories from me to remember.

Now I have the time and know what is more important, I long to read to my children, but they won’t let me, they think it's lame. They are now teens starting to evolve in their own worlds. And because I couldn’t turn back the hands of time, I’ll just hold on to the books, until the time my children have their own children and I’ll volunteer to read to them.

Cooking and my Grandparents

2010-11-06T13:48:00.000-07:00

I started to cook at fourteen. Back then, my mother, my two siblings and I, live at my grandfather’s house together with my mother’s younger siblings. My grandmother was a very good cook. She doesn’t follow any recipes, she just knew it. In the afternoons, coming home from school, I would catch her make dinner. Instead of doing my homework, I would seat by the kitchen table and watch her sauté, mix, pour, and every other thing which makes a good meal. I come close near the stove so fascinated at how the raw ingredients turn into delicious dishes.

My grandma doesn’t taste what she cooks, so she would ask me to taste it for her and tell her what I think so even if I don’t know a thing about mixtures, I just give her my feedback based on my taste buds, and excellent buds I have, I could tell her if it lacks salt, pepper, etc. Later I realized, my grandmother brought out the natural cook in me through this very good exercise, tasting the meals as it is being prepared. So, not long enough, I told my grandma, I’d like to cook and our roles were reversed she is now tasting the food I make. But like what I said, she was a very good cook, so it is harder to please her, than please me when I was the critic. Thanks to my grandfather who encouraged me to continue and would argue with my grandma on my behalf to be just thankful that someone is taking over her chore. True enough, if not for my taking over, my grandma would keep on cooking for up to forever because no one in the family did, not my mother, or her other siblings who can’t even fry a fish.

So then, beginning at my sophomore year in high school, and up to the time I turned 21, the year my grandmother passed away, also the year we moved out of my grandfather’s house, I was designated the official cook of the family.

I am passionate about cooking; it brings out my creativity, weird that I find it entertaining. I am so grateful for having such wonderful grandparents who awakened the love for cooking in me. One taught me, one encouraged me.

Carly and Meg

2010-11-03T20:13:00.000-07:00

Both are business leaders, both have money, and both have lost in yesterday’s election. I am not really a politics watcher or a politics expert. I am just a common person who thinks that Carly and Meg could have won using common sense.

The country is plagued with debt; the economy is in life support. People don’t have jobs; have lost their homes, and having a hard time to survive the day to day living. How in the world could they relate to the two billionaires? People knew Carly and Meg have money, tremendous amount of money. Something that people don’t have or couldn’t have in this dimmed reality called recession. Why would they vote for them?

Carly’s predetermined success during the early race for the Senate seat against Barbara went to trash when the democrat’s advertisement hit the tubes in the last three weeks. The one which showed Carly laid-off 30,000 HP employees and shipped California jobs to Asia. This killed her senate dream. This made a very strong impact to people considering the current 14% unemployment rate in California.

As a common people applying common sense, I think Carly could have responded to the same negative advertisement and use it to her own advantage. She should have emphasized that she was a very loyal and dedicated CEO who at that time was only thinking of the welfare of HP, the company she served. That had she not done so, HP would not thrive and continue to remain one of the money-earning companies in the US. But people don’t know this, kudos to the democrats who thought of this commercial, people only knew about the lay-off and the outsourcing of jobs.

Carly’s reply-to advertisement should contain that her tested loyalty and dedication are now geared for the benefit of California, the State she would serve, and that Californians would emerge successful and strong, like HP, in the end. She might have a senatorial seat by now.

As to Meg, the undocumented maid she fired cost her $142 million. Whew!!!

Ready, Set, Go!!!

2010-06-23T22:40:00.000-07:00

This is not a picture from a bike store. These are our bikes, and we're ready for summer! I love LA!!!

Back to basics

2010-06-13T22:43:00.000-07:00

Catching up with technology is like catching the wind, which is why I opted to go back to basics for my anniversary gift. I passed on the iPad for a little more pricey Dahon Mariner. This one doesn't need apps, works without electricity, and lets me enjoy the wind :-)

on and on...

2010-05-04T15:48:00.000-07:00

enjoying ALL IS FAIR...the sound that fills my car and my house...climbing on top of itunes at 1st day of release...How nice!!!

Pieces of me

2010-03-31T22:29:00.000-07:00

Its spring break again and like most mothers I enjoy this calm week, even if my boys are so focused with their laptops and can’t talk to them that much, I’m okay. I don’t blame the boys when they laughed-it-off as I told them I am more relaxed when they are at home, with me, than when they are at school or someplace else. They wouldn’t understand. It is a feeling only parents, particularly mothers, experience.

If you have children, pieces of you are scattered. Your heart and mind are divided equally to each child and parts go with them wherever they might be. Like pieces of me attends Middle School while some goes to High School. Wherever my boys are, they bring parts of me with them. My heart and mind comes to wholeness only when they are back, with me.

That’s why I like this spring break, short as it is, it anchored me. I’m whole, even if temporary. Until they find their own homes in the future which I hope not sooner :-)

the promises we made

2010-03-11T23:14:00.000-08:00

How time flies…it seemed only yesterday when our kids are taking their first communion. Now both are teenagers and the eldest will soon receive the sacrament of confirmation. Two years in the religious education program, Abraham developed friendship with his fellow students and enjoyed serving in hospitality on Sundays at Church. Last week, he attended a 3-day retreat up in Pali Mountains in preparation for his confirmation; we wrote him this letter…

March 5, 2010

Dear Abraham,

Sixteen years ago, you were born to us on Christmas Day. From then on, we have always been thankful to God for your love, care, and your wisdom as a child.

You were baptized as a baby and have no understanding of the sacrament you received. This time, as you prepare to receive the sacrament of Confirmation, we pray that God’s love be present in your heart and mind to strengthen you as you move towards life.

Now, you have the capacity to understand that upon your confirmation, you will make your own promises before God about living as a Christian. Nobody’s perfect, but still try, to the best you can do, to be a good follower of Jesus Christ, and a good model of Christian faith in everything you do and in every decision you make.

May God Bless you and grant you enlightenment on your retreat.

Loving you always,

Daddy, Mommy, and Lemuel

In the spirit of lent, why not recall our own commitments and promises to God. Let’s walk towards the path to conversion.

This is indeed the time for fruitful sadness, for us to grieve
over the condition of our mortality, over temptations sweeping over us, sins
creeping up on us, greed of all sorts lining up against us, lusts always
quarreling and agitating against good thoughts; these are the things we should
be sad about.--Sermon 254, 4

BSA Adventure Base 100

2010-01-09T21:57:00.000-08:00

One afternoon at the Boy Scouts of America's Adventure Base 100

up close and personal

2010-01-03T22:47:00.000-08:00

Our longest walk (yet) for 2010 is not at all tiring with the 44 floats of the Tournament of Roses. Cameras were cross-firing amongst exhibits and spectators until we're called to hold our fires...the park is closed. You've seen it on TV but it's more amazing up close and personal.

Welcome 2010!!!

2010-01-01T16:14:00.000-08:00

From our home to yours...

2009-12-26T19:01:00.001-08:00

Glitter Graphics

it gives back

2009-12-23T20:03:00.000-08:00

It takes away your ease, sucks-out your energy, pulls-down your spirit, and hurts your pockets, but despite the many agonizing and unpleasant stories you might have heard or read from cancer survivors, cancer also gives back. The experience of cancer is a tormenting adversity to those who have encountered it. Hence, most testimonies, stories, and written words of the survivors highlight the rudeness of the treatments. Of how chemotherapy ruined their self esteem when the hair had fallen-out, the constant nausea, headaches, and other discomforts which aggravate the fear of developing another disease as a side effect of the treatment. A man I knew whose wife was recently diagnosed with breast cancer said, the disease robbed them of their time. I cannot impugn.

I’ve been through all of the above. By through I meant, the worst part is over. God forbid, a recurrence is not welcome. I remember the distress; in fact I have almost forgotten how to live with ease, at least temporarily. But behind this undesirable experience, an illuminative realization kicked-in. Cancer gives back. It is an admonition to consider death. It may sound morbid but hey, who would not die? Everyone in his own time will. Everyday of our lives, we live with uncertainties. Someone young and healthy could die all of a sudden, caught off guard and unprepared. Cancer survivors had advance notices. Conscious, thus, are able to shift or change their priorities in life, endowed with time to acknowledge what is really important, to appreciate the blessings around them, and to ameliorate the wrongdoings and shortcomings they have done somewhere in their past. Survivors are able to do all these things before their time to finally leave comes. Cancer is a reminder, it does not only take, it gives back.

Have you felt it yet?

2009-12-16T23:47:00.000-08:00

Thanksgiving like Halloween is a very popular and endeared occasion in the US. After living in this country for almost eight years, I have learned to embrace Thanksgiving, although Christmas remains inimitable and will forever be the holiday dearest to my heart.

A week ago, a friend posted on Face Book, “is it Christmas yet?” A couple of friends commented, “Not soon enough.” I said, “It could be, seek you heart.” Christmas exists in the heart and manifests outside. This is my belief. It could be months and months ahead of time but a person may have felt Christmas already. Or it could be Christmas everyday for some people. Depending on whether our hearts and minds feel PEACE and LOVE, the spirit of Christmas.

When people go through pain, sickness, or hardships, it may already be Christmas Day but it’s hard for them to feel it. The year that passed, I was among those people. Bald, lonely, and weak, I couldn’t feel peace and love. I was empty even if surrounded by loved ones and material things that once excite me. But thank God, times passes so quickly and I felt Christmas early again this year. Love always comes down for me on Christmas. My older son was born on Christmas. I guess I shouldn’t have to remind myself that love is always here every time.

How ‘bout you? Have you felt Christmas yet? I mean, as in Christmas, Christmas?

Radio's fine

2009-12-15T00:04:00.000-08:00

Years ago when I was much younger and Walkman was not yet out in the market (please don’t spend time figuring out how long ago was it) sleep became my problem. Those days, it was not pills that cured the condition, but music. Music from a pocket-sized AM/FM transistor radio lulled me to sleep. For all the comfort that I experienced, the radio was worth the numerous canisters of double A batteries I consumed, and unlike sleeping pills, the radio dosed me off without harmful side effects. Just when I learned to adjust and live with the hassles of insomnia, it disappeared. I slept soundly at night and never used the transistor again.

At present, I am playing tags with sleep again and I know the remedy. If it worked before, there is no way it will not work again. And I was right, all I need is music. Not those coming from high-tech MP3s because earplugs bother me, music from the old-fashioned radio. I may not find a classic pocket transistor like that my mother gave me but the boom box will do.

So now at my bedside, in the quiet of the night, while the rest of Los Angeles sleeps, there’s the box turned-on so low. I could barely decipher the lyrics of the song played, but enough for me to enjoy the melodies of familiar tunes. So soft, so calming, it takes me there – to precious sleep.

Radio’s fine.

If I should write again...

2009-12-15T00:02:00.000-08:00

Treatments had taken ease away and it became harder for me to write. Except for links to Anoop’s music, my blog was empty for the longest time ever. When I lay in bed at night, thoughts fills my head but I just can’t transcribe it. I said to myself, if I should write again, I triumphed at getting back, despite the ease that’s here today and gone tomorrow. I am writing again…Believe.

Happy Christmas Everyone!!!

2009-11-30T20:34:00.001-08:00

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

Look alike

2009-11-16T17:20:00.000-08:00

Getting ready to cook Sinigang, a local filipino dish, I asked my younger son to grab a tomato from the fridge, he handed me a Persimmon, instead. I told him it's not tomato it's Persimmon, to which he replied..."Mommy you can't blame me, they look alike." He got a point so I just smiled.

Now comes my older son...holding the Persimmon in my hand, I told him..."I asked your brother to grab a tomato and he gave me this," to which he replied..."Oh he gave you a small Pumpkin?!"

I need Aspirin :-)

L.U.V.R. Another Anoop original

2009-11-09T10:50:00.000-08:00

'Lovin this song :-)

THIS IS IT!

2009-11-01T18:30:00.000-08:00

MJ was phenomenal. I'm forever a fan.

The reason I want to fly to Raleigh yesterday

2009-10-23T17:00:00.000-07:00

a quiet, sweet, and wonderful day

2009-07-15T22:46:00.000-07:00

...am thankful for another year

I heart Anoop!!!

2009-04-15T20:15:00.001-07:00

whether he stays or not...he is my Idol. Sorry Simon, I have a reliable blackberry and home phone, I will keep on voting till you eat your words...again!!!

I'm wearing this shirt to the tour :-)

16th anniversary

2009-03-27T21:39:00.000-07:00

...is yet in June, but the theme shirt is already on the way :-)

In and Out

2008-12-01T18:05:00.000-08:00

I went to Costco today and while having lunch at the food court I observed the women passing by, focusing on their hair. Some had really nice hair, some, worst than just a bad hair day, yet hair, they have. I missed mine.

One dose of chemo and mine is all over the place, on the bed, on the floor, in the trash. Loosing your hair other than how Britney Spears lost hers is appalling and disheartening, even if already expected. A wig is still a wig, no matter how stylish it is. People pay for wigs, they are happy. I got mine for free, I am not quite happy.

At the end of the day, I consoled myself… “Outside, I am getting ugly, inside, something beautiful is happening, the slipping hair affirms it.”

under refinement

2008-11-22T10:52:00.000-08:00

“What keeps you busy these days aside from medical stuff?” This email from a friend made me smile. The humor is so right on target and timing is perfect. No, I don’t have chemo brain, that is not the reason I was absent on the blogosphere for months. I have been reading, in fact, overwhelmed with information. Downside of cancer patients, lots of home works.

Before that Stage 2 IDC diagnosis in September, I thought I did a good job cruising through the challenges and joys of life. I was making concrete plans for near and distant future, not just for myself but for the family, and execute them one by one in accordance with the time table, which I also created, with approval of the entire household. It’s like everything is under control and since I am good at it, I was tasked with this “control” responsibility, which I do not regret. I maintained the balance until this lump in my breast turned-out to be invasive and behaviorally very aggressive.

The holiday trips or the vacations that I used to plan many months ahead of time were now replaced with regular trips to Kaiser for treatment or other related appointments. My hair will be replaced by wigs and the hours I spent ironing my hair to get a perfect straight will soon be over. Abraham resents this, he likes my real hair, but it’s okay. It is just a small share of suffering compared to the other patients I met at the chemo salon who had severe cases.

Cancer is a strange gift, said a breast cancer survivor, it is indeed. I think only God can take this gift back. When I was diagnosed, I know I needed help to pray. I believe, I have faith… but I am not sure my prayers would be enough, so I solicited prayers. The emails, text messages, and phone calls kept coming. I feel loved. Friends are like God’s angels, they give me strength, and they give me happiness. On my first chemo, Linda missed work to be with me. Despite the time difference in US Mainland and Guam, Buh prayed for me that hour, the giant strawberry juice (my description of Adriamycin, the vesicant that kills active cells, one of my 3 chemo drugs) syringes was hooked into my IV. My friends from work in the Philippines were there to support me from start, families, co-workers; I know they are behind me. So many acts of kindness from people past and present helps me in this journey of refinement.

On movies...

2008-07-23T22:32:00.000-07:00

15 Scripts

A former businessman-officemate said Hollywood has only 15 scripts ---

Hmmm…so similarities are not coincidental; it is a product of recycling or reissue. And why 15 not 20 or more, or less?

***
Alternate-endings

There are movies I wished had alternate endings, one is Message in a Bottle – a story of love lost and found and lost again, and Bridge to Terabithia- a movie about the power of imagination and friendship. Not that I didn’t liked these films, in fact I think both were awesome, except that it made me cry too much, that part I didn’t like. I have seen Message in a Bottle more than five times but finished it just once, and all four other times I watched it, I clicked stop on the remote control at the scene I wanted the movie to end.

***
Memorized screen play

Call me whatever, but I am not the only one. I had a guy (?) officemate who loved Drew Barrymore’s Ever After like crazy. Like me, he had seen the movie more than a 100 times, like me, he has the VHS and the DVD, and like me, he memorized the lines of the characters in the film. What’s in this flick? A lot of things that reminded me of my childhood. The manor and the furniture, the way they did their laundry, the portable urinals and how they disposed of its waste, the wood-fuelled stove, I’ve seen it all before – the setting in the movie is like a picture of my treasured past, plus ---the romance, the prince most importantly.

Soon to memorize: The Phantom of the Opera, watched 20ish times, Enchanted viewed 10ish times.

***

First week showing

The first ever movie we watched on first week showing ---The Dark Knight. The family is fan of the Knight's Tale - Heath Ledger. Other people in the long lines were just curious but definitely not disappointed after watching.

More on the Dark Knight --- Officemate #1 asked, "What's a good movie to see this weekend?" Officemate #2 replied, "The Dark Knight." Officemate #1 asked again, "Is it a Horror Film?"

:-)

***
Migrant blooper

When I joined the company I thought our office building was showbiz enough because it is situated right in front of the Westwood Village Memorial Park Cemetery were Marilyn Monroe and a list of many other actors, actresses, and musicians were entomb. But this was nothing compared to where our office was relocated, in the heart of downtown Los Angeles, where film making is very much alive. That time, I have been in the US only for 9 months and although I know English since grade school in the Philippines, I was not accustomed to how they call some things here.

Anytime of the day, it is common to witness actual filming and sometimes be included in the movie by accident, like when you’re crossing the street or standing by the ATM machine, like my boss did. In fact, a couple of popular movies were filmed right at our office building, Spiderman, The Italian Job, and Fast and the Furious.

One day, an Eddie Murphy movie was being shot downstairs. I got excited I called my officemates and our CFO, “there’s a shooting downstairs, come have a look!” They hurriedly went by the window, sneaked their heads out and asked, “Where’s the shooting? Were there cops?” I told them, “there are no cops; it’s a comedy, an Eddie Murphy movie.” To which they altogether replied, “Oh you meant a filming, not a shooting.” And they all went back to their station holding their laughs. No wonder they all looked anxious-scared instead of anxious-excited when I called them. Embarrassing situation ---priceless!

Why I've given up mussels

2008-07-15T23:47:00.000-07:00

One good thing about proof reading Lemuel’s Science Reports is learning. A lot of times I realized how nescient I am of Science, like it took me several readings to understand the what abouts of global warming. Now that Lemuel is on summer break, I’m free of proof readings but before classes was over, he reported on water pollution and the latest methods used to control it.

Until this report I didn’t know that mussels are easily contaminated by heavy metals and persistent organic pollutants that it is used by scientists to measure the water pollution level.

I have always been pleased eating this seashell since I was a teen, it is abundant in our province therefore it is sold cheap. When I was pregnant with Abraham, I consume a gallon-full of mussels just by myself. I liked it ginataan (with coconut milk) with veggies, oven-baked with tomato sauce and ketchup, or simply steamed.

At Seafood City here in Los Angeles, prices of Mussels from New Zealand (my preferred brand) and China had increased, but that wouldn’t stop me from patronizing my favorite molluscs. But after learning the facts above, my partiality with mussels has ended. In fact I managed to skip it on 2 recent buffet trips. Thanks Science!

P.S. Thanks to all my friends who remembered my birthday :-)
P.S.2 Advance Happy Birthday Bu!

the first fight

2008-07-07T21:21:00.000-07:00

I’m a big fan of weddings that’s why I zealously looked forward to last Saturday’s garden sunset wedding of my friends from work. The occasion turned out just as I expected it to be, blooming, sweet, and romantic. One lady, as the bride steps down staircase, can’t help but utter, “I want to get married again.” I think she meant, “I want to wear that gown!” I do too.

One thing about women on weddings is that they can’t help but reminisce and compare the occasion with their own. Secretly hoping for a rewind, not necessarily getting married with another person, but just different gowns, hairstyle, venue, give aways, and so forth - if they can turn time around.

Standing beside the bride by the door of the main ballroom, we both were anxiously excited for the ceremonies to start. The sweetness and romance were playing in my mind taking me back the time I was wearing my own wedding dress when the bride introduced me her florist, who that time was about to collect the check for her flowers and her services. An incident suddenly coruscated my memory…

Sometime in the past, a florist took advantage of the bride’s pre-occupation with the pressures and vanities of the wedding and overcharged for the cost of the blooms and the services, like 30 or 40% more than what she quoted. She knew her way, the florist, instead of approaching the bride or the mother of the bride went straight to the groom to collect. The groom, without confirmation with the bride, who that time was just standing at the opposite corner of the church, handed the florist his cash.

The bride, after learning the groom had paid for more than what they are supposed to pay, was upset and blamed the groom. With a total frowned face, she clutched the trail of her ecru organza gown, hurriedly walked to the car, got in and loudly slammed the door closed, leaving behind the groom who stopped arguing to quiet his spouse. Good thing the bride knew about the incident after the reception when all the guests were gone.

They drove home and slept on different beds on their wedding night.

Each and every June of the years that followed, the couple were reminded they were deprived of a romantic wedding night by a florist, so they made sure each anniversary is sweet and fight-free…working on their 16^thyear now.

By the ways, the upset bride was me; it was our first fight as a couple.

Summer and my youth

2008-06-26T22:11:00.000-07:00

Summer when I was young was long days and long nights. In the City where I grew up, it meant extended playing times with my neighbor friends in the ample yard of my great grandparent’s brick house. The youngsters, me included, would start to assemble at around 4 PM, right after the afternoon siesta forced to us by our parents to take, and start to play in groups, the girls together, and the boys, their own group. Before 6 PM, mothers would yell supper to their kids and everybody would wash themselves with water from my grandparents' well, the deepest, well-maintained and has the cleanest water of all wells in the entire neighborhood. Some neighbors would even do their laundry or take their baths there. Shortly after an express dinner, kids are back again and gather for the final game of the night, this time girls and boys altogether, which could be either tags or hide and seek, sometimes both, until everybody gets tired and retires to seat at my grandparents' staircase and talk about everything, each takes his or her turn to tell a story, but there were kids who had a lot to share. Most of the topics don’t make sense at all but kids as we are, were very much entertained to the facts and fiction combo and would laugh and scream in horror depending on what story was told. Tales of ghosts, giants, and vampires were favorites that time.

Summer is a time to be holy. The heat kicks off in time with the holy week. As early as Holy Wednesday, radio and TV stations stopped airing regular shows, thus, all you hear or watch are those relating to the holy season. The solemnity of the week is felt deeper by the 24 -7 reading, or singing, of the passion of the Christ until Easter, by the elderly women in the vicinity. The Holy Week starts and ends with a procession followed by a whole week of flower offerings to the Church, usually by the cutest girls dressed in white. Summer is also the time to espy the loveliest girls and handsomest boys through endless Flores de Mayo or Santa Cruzan. The Reina Elena is the most prestigious title and is usually the loveliest of them all, until in the later years when the sponsors of the Flores de Mayo designates their daughters as the Elena but even if the later is the case, the Santa Cruzan always draws crowds to the streets.

Summer is reconnecting, a time to see the people you haven’t seen in a year because they stay in Manila or Olongapo because of their parent’s work. Summer is also associating with bakasyonistas from other cities in Luzon. Summer is so full of lovely memories for me that it became my favorite season of the year, well, growing up in the Philippines you don’t have much choice of seasons, there are only 2 and I am not fond of the other- rain. I miss all these summer experiences to the point I wish my own kids to experience them themselves, like playing groups games with children their age, under the moonlight and starry nights, instead of the virtual games they play with computer terminals. I wish for them to have a chance to fetch water from the well and wash there, if there are any wells left out there. I’d like for them to experience a Holy Week surrounded by silence and hearing only the singing of the passion, children were more patient and calmer then. Summer then and there --- how I miss it.

Summer now and here? ---- heat!!!

...i cannot go back... (why i want to write Oprah)

2008-06-04T21:47:00.000-07:00

A week before leaving my last job, a former co-employee whom I developed friendship through emails and telephone conversations called for a work related issue. After addressing her concern, we shifted the talk to each other’s lives as we haven’t spoken in a while. The last we had was almost a year ago when her husband who also worked with us as branch manager passed away of a disease, not the big “C” he battled with for sometime.

The husband was smart, a jolly man, and speaks so fondly of Asia; it’s one of the favorite topics of our conversation when they visit our office in Los Angeles. The wife is equally smart, nice and proper. I admire that she has a Master’s Degree in Divinity. Together, they are a perfect pair, for they complement each other’s traits. They raised two fine young boys, and used to have a comfortable home in one of Texas’ prime cities. Life seemed good until the husband died, followed by the death of her mother, and the mortgage turmoil that left her jobless making it difficult for her to pay the bills that keep coming, aside from those accumulated when her husband was then struggling with cancer.

I uttered, after listening to her sad story ---“I really admire your courage and strength for moving on and going back to where your husband left-off.” It pinched my heart as she said, “No Lady, I wasn’t able to go back. When he died (referring to her husband) I tried to move on and live life like we used to but I realized the life that we lived all the time when he was still alive, was the life he created for us, and now that he is gone, that life is also gone. I pretended I can, but I cannot go back.”

We were still exchanging our good lucks and good byes on the phone but my mind had already drifted away, emphatically imagining her situation. Without a job, unable to pay the mortgage, she lost the house, the boys moved-out into an apartment in the city when the younger one found a job, she switched into care giving and relocated to one of Texas’ remotest suburbs and lived in a small congregation unable to rent her own place. I could imagine how hard it is for her to survive with just over $180 for a few hours work in two weeks. Her only wish is to save some money to buy a trailer she could live in and drive to the city when she visits her boys.

My friend is a very strong woman, no doubt about it. But right now she needs a person with a big heart, someone with ways and means to put her back in track, to the road that will lead her home, together with her boys--- back to the life her deceased husband created for them.

I have a heart full of compassion, but I don’t have the means and ways to provide the help she needs….And this is why I want to write Oprah…

gone up to breathe

2008-05-27T22:03:00.000-07:00

Five years in downtown Los Angeles’ Financial District and I finally said goodbye to say hello to the calming classy breeze of Santa Monica. Goodbye to my comfort zone, submerged to newness was my current status for the last 30 days. New job, a lot of learning, new associations, communications, and on and on and on.

I didn’t take a break when I changed jobs. I thought, I’ll always have the time to take a breather later, what’s most important is to keep myself employed in this not so good economy, rest will come to me easily when my bills are taken care of --- I said to myself. And so this last 3-day weekend, I took advantage, up the hills, to the cold mountains.

Hmmm…no pollution…so refreshing…so relaxing…till my next blog!

Starting over

2008-05-12T21:43:00.000-07:00

After having been to each and every other theme park in California, I thought Magic Mountain was the period to the loop, but it isn’t, for the recent visit to Disney and our neighbor, Universal Studios, brought us back right where we started. It made me conclude that living in the US, particularly in Southern California ---enough is never enough---for theme parks will be part of your life for as long as you can walk or make it in wheelchair, as in the case of the 80ish looking lady who took the high speed “Mummy Ride” with us.

There are a handful reasons why people go back to theme parks over and over ---it could be the new rides, new shows, bonding with families, or touring relatives and guests from out of state or out of the country. From my many visits, I observed, theme parks, though built with different themes, were alike in many ways, each makes visitors feel you are in a magical world escaping the bustles of the real world even for just a few hours. I observed too that time don’t change what goes on in theme parks, those parents indulging their kids with toys and souvenir items that will gather dust as they reach home are still there, the unhealthy pricey menus don’t change, the long lines are still there, even longer---it changes one ride’s name to “Indiana Jones and the Temple of 3 Hours Wait.” Theme parks, even if they add, delete, or modify shows, rides, and attractions will be the same – it’s very good at ripping-off our wallets :-)

The experience of theme parks used to be the same for me, but not recently- things were the same, but inside me was different. Where has the gut to try the daring rides come from? Why am I suddenly not afraid anymore? I took the fast rides, the high vertical drops, with my two boys and sometimes would even initiate it. What is going on? I am passing a different cycle of my life and it required revisiting theme parks all over again for me to realize that I’ve changed, that I have grown, that living in the US made me a stronger person, maybe not that strong compared to others, but strong enough to conquer pre-conceived fears.

A different person now…hmmm…the magic of theme parks.

the heart won't write

2008-04-06T22:25:00.000-07:00

Many times I opened my site hoping to post an entry but closed again disappointed. I took the yellow paper and the pencil and tried writing the old traditional way but words are still hard to find. There are so many challenging, fast-paced, and surprising events happening all around me but I’m still lost for words.

I wanted to write Oprah, serious! Maybe her show could help a friend who is in dire need of financial help, but I can’t find a way to transform my friend's very emotional situation and express my friend's thoughts the way she conveyed them to me into a letter that will merit the help I so wanted for her.

I wanted to write about the depressing moments of loosing a job, its devastating effects on families and relationships. I wanted to write about the thrills of finding a new job, the ego-boosting complements from job interviews, the joy of receiving job offers, the tricks of evaluating options and choosing which one suits best.

I wanted to write about the nice homilies at church this Easter season. I wanted to write about my favorite reality shows which are now at its height. I wanted to write about my new gadgets and recent interests. I wanted to write about letting go of something and wanting it back. I wanted to write about how Abraham and Lemuel are growing up to be totally different but very much alike.

I wanted to write... if only I can do so with my brain. But I write with my heart and as of yet, my heart is tired of too much excitements, of too much emotions, of too much sensitivity, that I struggle for words.

what's going on?

2008-03-16T22:20:00.000-07:00

BREAKING UP A HABIT

I love leisure driving or driving without planned destination. Whenever we have the chance I would tell Brack to drive wherever to refresh, the kids enjoyed the trips too. It’s like we developed a habit which seemed hard to break because it pleases every member of the family…until gas prices went up…$3.69 per gallon killed it.

ADAPTATIONS

After church last Saturday evening, the family stopped by Seafood City, a Filipino supermarket, for meat, fish, veggies, fruits, seasonings, and rice. Along the cashier’s counter I glanced at the different sweet delicacies which are guaranteed tasty but I tried my best to avoid because of the high calorie and sugar contents. I pointed the suman ( rice cake wrapped in coconut leaves) to Abraham, I told him those are his favorite when he was much younger, back in the Philippines. He candidly replied, “Really? Well now it’s all about tamales Mommy.”

Are we in Los Angeles or Mexico?

PLEASE BUY

Unemployment is at record high, stagflation is worst than recession. People had stopped buying so the government is releasing tax rebates in May for people to spend and infuse cash back into the economy. Everybody, the working class especially, feared being homeless…I don’t think the ordinary taxpayers would spend their rebates checks just for the sake of keeping the economy rolling. I just wish for the rich people to open up their wallets a little wider…please buy…please keep on buying.

a picture paints a thousand words...(2nd edition)

2008-03-01T22:35:00.000-08:00

beyond human attachments (for Spice)

2008-02-25T22:06:00.000-08:00

I was multi tasking in the kitchen yesterday between cooking and cleaning the mini beta fish aquarium. In the past, I struggle to transfer the fish from its container to the other bowl, it would swim fast away from the net and oftentimes would jump in strong resistance. But since a few weeks from yesterday, the fish had been calm and cooperative. My guesstimate is age – the fish has been with us for more than two years now. I wonder how long it is in fish life. I wonder too, how old it is when we bought it from Petco, maybe not that old. This fish survived more than a dozen of goldfishes, another beta, and two turtles. But this fish is not the longest we had, Crabbie was, an active hermit crab, which stayed with us for more than three years and died the middle of last year.

Although not initially my pets, I ended up being the caretaker of these tiny marine animals when the kids lost their enthusiasm a long-long time ago. Though I sometimes make them guilty of neglecting their container-based pets, both Abraham and Lemuel are still dreaming of having a dog. Now this is where I become emo. I told them they can have a dog when they are old and have their own family but never will I get a dog for them again.

I would never want to own another dog. Why? Because I had a great one and I feel no dog can ever replace my charming Spice. At first I thought she was babyish and a picky eater but when Brack left for the US, I started to notice how a responsible family member she was. Spice became unusually sensitive and would bark even at nothing to protect us. There was this incident during my grandfather’s wake that we went back home at dawn and were so surprised to find Spice sitting by the gate waiting for us. She must have walked out as I am closing the gate and unknowingly locked her out. Yet she stayed and guarded her territory responsibly. Imagine my guilt leaving her outside.

Spice got the most expressive eyes and looks at me without criticisms. My heart aches every time I would recall the dawn we left the Philippines for the US; it was my last sight of Spice. I didn’t think she would pass away soon enough for our next reunion. What I’m imagining before is, if she can still recognize Lemuel whom she loved to lick on the cheeks when we return. Apparently, no get together of that sort is happening anymore.

I fed and cared for our tiny water-based pets, I never even bathed Spice before; it was always Brack and my nephews, Aaron and Mikko who bathed her. I may not have a picture of Spice but her image is crystal clear stacked in my heart and mind and my attachment to this canine is heaven bound.

The day of hearts

2008-02-13T13:51:00.000-08:00

It's Valentine's Day tomorrow and I'm too sick to write an entry. This link leads to an archived historical entry :-)

LOVE AND BE LOVED - my dear readers!

sick and amazed

2008-02-13T13:28:00.000-08:00

Your spirit is willing but your body is weak...it is very hard to have fun when you are sick. You wanted to eat but the food isn't just as appetizing. You wanted to read but your head is heavy. You end up infront of the tube watching the morning news for a few hours until you fall asleep and wake up to watch some more.

But today I had fun being sick because I had the time to explore this. Awesome! Go grab one, you'll never know when flu catches you!

My new creativity software!

...of beliefs and practices

2008-02-06T22:36:00.000-08:00

On the way to drop-off Abraham to his school yesterday morning, we heard the DJ of our favorite radio station greeting his callers with “Happy Ash Wednesday!” I may not be a devout Catholic but I reacted with, “Hello, it’s not a happy occasion you know?”

My comment lead to a short and meaty conversation between me and Abraham with his little brother seated at the backseat quietly absorbing our discussion. He started asking about Ash Wednesday and what it meant to us. With simplest knowledge I explained, this is a practice to remind people to repent, and that we came from ashes and unto ashes we will return. Further I said, Ash Wednesday is not a day of obligation; however it starts the holiest season in a Catholic’s life. Thus Abraham commented, he has friends who doesn’t believe in the creation and only believed in science. Friends who do not have any religion at all. Having heard that and for fear that he might be influenced later, my motherly guts tried to find an excuse not obvious enough, to discourage Abraham in associating with these group of friends. But Abraham whom I guess is smarter than I am, already knows what runs in my mind, said, “That’s why I know they are real friends Mommy. Even though they do not belong to any religion, they respect my religion.” I held-off my tongue and in my mind I thought, the younglings know about respect and acceptance of other beliefs, then who am I to discriminate.

I remembered, I, myself, have a close friend who doesn’t have a religion too. When she was born, she said, her mother registered her name through the hospital and straight home they went. No baptism followed, no confirmation or anything when she reached teenhood. She never attended any church but grew up to be a fine and respectable person, perhaps better than many who have religion but don't practice the deeds of their belief. I recalled when we watched the movie The Passion of the Christ; she paid serious attention to the film. It was nice of her to be open-minded.

In the afternoon, we rushed to take our dinner and went to church to have our forehead marked with ashes and to pray for my mother-in-law who passed away this day last year. We had this mass offered for her and the timing coincided with the marking of ashes. Before we stood in line, Abraham asked, “Mommy what will I say after the priest put the ash?” I said, “Amen.” And he asked again, "What do the priest say when they put ashes?" I told him to listen to what the priest is saying.

In the car, on our way back home, he repeated what the priest said when he had his forehead signed with a cross…”Turn away from sin and believe in the gospel.” I remembered the DJ on the radio…I wish he will be blessed with knowledge and hope that by next year he won’t greet his callers Happy Ash Wednesday again.

mini thoughts

2008-01-31T21:09:00.000-08:00

2 Baby Sitters

Lemuel attended a babysitting class last Saturday in Pasadena, the same training Abraham attended four years ago. Both brothers are now Red Cross-trained sitters, sitting themselves. Both can offer their services to outside parties as well…nice.

Switching bags – not a good idea

I enjoy seeing ladies who matches their bags with their clothes or accessories. I know someone who does, as frequent as every other day. I tried once to switch bags, I forgot my building pass. I tried the second time – I forgot my parking pass. I don’t want to try the third time.

Super awake

It’s hard to get up in the mornings especially when it rains. I tend to be so slow and sleepy even at breakfast table.

Abraham suggested I take my coffee from this huge bowl – so I’ll be super awake. The teen makes sense.

Pay per view

Living in the City has its pros and cons. One biggest disadvantage is the high cost of rent. But then, you get to see this everyday…

From my bedroom window, the Hollywood sign (center) and the Griffith observatory (right).

From the children's bedroom window, the heights of Downtown Los Angeles, sorry no picture, pay per view :-)

Living in the center of the city meant my everyday route include...

The Walt Disney Concert Hall at Grand Street.

Living in the city meant being close to work.

hmmm...

'till next entry!

Magellan is a blessing

2008-01-18T22:29:00.000-08:00

I’m not referring to Ferdinand Magellan, the first circumnavigator who discovered the Philippines in 1521, but rather, I am writing about a by-product of his career – four hundred eighty-seven years later…

This is what I’m talking about…my first ever GPS. Magellan – proudly Philippine made. This product was made in the same export zone I worked for more than a decade when I was still in the country. The same export processing zone Brack and I met...see the connection? whatever...

I know that I am a big late to own one, I mean for someone who’s crazy about tech gadgets, but I’m also an advocate of practicality. If a product won’t have a use for me, I won’t buy it; it doesn’t matter if it’s the cutest, inexpensive or latest tech gadget out there.

When the portable version of the GPS hit the market big two years ago, I didn’t even bother to know what it can do, nor didn’t even bother to inspect the display units despite my frequent visits to Circuit City or Best Buy. I said to myself “what for?” there is map quest. My drive is a routine and roads in Los Angeles were paralleled. I guess, I don't really know my roads that well, for in 2 or 3 occasions, I would get lost and needed to call Brack in the midst of his meetings or heavy workload for driving directions to get home. On those occasions, we ended up irritated with each other, and he would end up saying I should get one of those portable GPS or do not drive at all if I don’t know where I’m going.

Submitting to Brack, (who would not? if you're asked to do something you really wanted to do anyways), I got me the most reliable driving companion. So for two months now, I’ve been driving with more confidence that I can surely find my way home, day or night. Just so happy with this one. By the ways, my boss got one of this too before me, the higher end model. He influenced me with this brand actually. Get one, you’ll gonna love it, the features were awesome. I hope Magellan will reward me for this blog with a unit upgrade later :-)

In the end, the two Magellans, first the person, second my driving companion, were both blessings. For the second won't exist without the first.

time...precious time

2008-01-01T22:40:00.000-08:00

So long I have waited to catch up on my sleep; at last this holiday season gave me the sleep-all-you-can I wanted. It feels good to be in hibernation mode and finally watched the six episodes of Star Wars, that’s twelve hours seating, cuddling, or snuggling on the couch or on the bed. Awesome! Good that I’m finally awakened from the Anakin Skywalker slumber, he’s so cute, just can’t flush him out that fast.

The celebration of Christmas and New Year brought with it much food to feast on, plenty of talking and laughing with families and friends, chatting via IM or PC to PC talking cum webcam. A lot of catching up on everyone’s lives. It was a time for connecting and for some, reconnecting. As for me, the days-off work didn’t just gave me time to watch Star Wars and do all of the above but gave me some extra time to surf the www and look at pictures of classmates, batch mates, and long lost friends. And while I find pleasure seeing how everybody looked now, it also gave me a pinch of sadness to see everybody aged and realized that I aged too, and for how long my night cream and moisturizers will hide it, I don’t know…Hmmm…time is really something you cannot bring back, replay, or rewind. Don’t you wish you have a time remote…at your control?

For 2008 I’m skipping the New Year’s resolution, for one I observed, it is very easy to make the list but so difficult to stick to it, and based on my compliance success rate from last year’s I decided to just let the New Year be. No pressures…just a fresh mind set of positive expectations that this year will be better than the last. Is it midlife crisis telling me to take it easy and not be hard on myself? Well, I noticed I’m more toned-down, have longer patience, and more appreciative of the present. Okay…I do need that time remote :-)

Have a good year everybody and thanks for following my blogs.

Re-living

2007-12-21T22:20:00.001-08:00

The challenge of the busy and crowded streets leading to the schools had me counting the days for the winter break to start, and today is the day that I am temporarily relieved of the morning left turn struggles to make sure Lemuel makes it to class on time, bring Abraham to his, then finally me – to work.

Its going to be a relaxing short drive to work starting the 26^th but me acting “emo” (this is how they brand emotional teenagers at middle school) is having a pinch of missing the youth atmosphere already. I am going to miss that group of long-haired pretty lass mirroring me when I was young (uggh! Indulge me) standing by the gate. I am going to miss those boys greeting with Hey Bro! or the formal handshakes of the geeks (I bet they are in Magnet class like Lemuel) when they meet in the morning. I’m going to miss the elites, those who arrive in cool rides, and clad in branded outfits from head to toe. I am going to miss the look of youth.

You may wonder, how long do I park on the street to witness all these? Twenty seconds maybe, or just enough that Lemuel and Abraham can get off the car. But as I approach the school gate and as I leave, my eyes wander around a lot, looking for similarities of the youth back in my time and now. I am re-living my own youth in my mind. Maybe I am really getting old because I delight in the long gone memories of my happy carefree days.

************

WISDOM OF THE YOUTH (a while driving scene - Brack took an alternate route to our destination…)

Me: Why did you pass this way? It’s going to take a lot of time…
Brack: It’s the same distance.
Abraham: Yes Mommy, it’s the same and you get to see beautiful houses (while cruising Windsor Square). You loved to look at beautiful houses right?
Me: I do, but nothing will happen because I am not buying.
Abraham: And why do you enjoy window shopping? It’s the same thing, you look, spend time, but don’t buy.
Me: (quiet)

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THIS WITTY TEEN!

************

MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ALL AND A GOOD AND HEALTHY NEW YEAR!

what's the upside?

2007-12-04T22:36:00.000-08:00

There are times when your nerves make it hard for you to remember to be thankful for having children especially when your little dragons at home start to breathe-out fire. However, under normal circumstances, I still think being a parent is priceless. It has its payoffs that compensates for the pains and heartaches of child-rearing.

Children bring certain happiness to their parents even without trying or exerting extra effort. Parents are crazy about their kids - just seeing them having fun and enjoying life, or thinking about what will they become as they grow older. It doesn’t matter if their children resents it, parents delight in being overly involved with their children’s life, and even if they macro manage at work, they practice 100 % micromanagement when it comes to their children’s affairs.

What do children give their parents? For me the biggest upside of being a parent when the kids are at their tender age is the experience of innocent love, it is also the time you feel their total surrender. This stage brings extra happiness to control-freak parents (I’m not!), unfortunately, this doesn’t last long. There is also the experience of innocent wisdom, the time when you savor the words and opinions of your youngsters as precious treasure, like everything that comes out of their mouth clicks.

I have two boys at their puberties. I heard from other parents who have children passed this stage that this is the most challenging period for them. They talked about their difficult times, their complaints when their kids were teenagers, but didn’t mention a single moment of the joys of parenthood during the time. I guessed, a case of overlook, parents were overwhelmed with the downside, they forgot the good times.

It might be premature for me to speak about the rewards of parenthood at this stage when children are at their teens, but so far from experience, it is positively rewarding. This is the stage that I am learning from them about everything, a million things, from their perspective. Interestingly enough, some of them, I never encountered or heard of in my whole existence. Being a tech person, this is also the time that I am starting to rely on my kids, they have natural gift in running electronics without reading the manuals. This is the time they begin to express themselves and on certain occasions, challenge your viewpoints and tests your authority. It takes a stretch of patience and an open mind to deal with but once managed, adds up to the fulfilling moments of parenthood.

The joys and pains, the color and the drama, you'll find altogether in one package called CHILDREN.

(I got inspired to write this entry because of a recent scenario which I'm writing about next. Till next blog!)

electric shock

2007-11-26T22:22:00.000-08:00

I’m highly static -- to the point that you can see a spark, or in some instances, even hear a sound, when my finger touches metal objects. I have developed static paranoia and I am not happy. I’m scared to touch metal door handles; I avoid doing so, unless I have no choice. I look like a complete fool using tissue paper, heavy duty pens, or my foot (in case of lower drawers) to open the metal filing cabinets at the office. I don’t like that it scratches my shoes. I get tired explaining to people why I need tissue paper to pull out my files. I hate that I kick the door of my car instead of grabbing it by the handle to close it. I hope my neighbors are not looking or they will see me opening the gate with my foot and kicking it sideways to close. (Sigh…)

Being static is not funny, it is painful, and it is draining my energy. Imagine how much mental agony it brings when you anticipate a shock and to calm yourself after it actually happens? How come some people are more static than others? Is there a cure? I wonder how many out there are like me. I will Google more about it.

Piece of thought (Part 2)

2007-11-08T22:59:00.000-08:00

Fast learner
I’m a fast learner. After spending a couple of hours on my new job last Monday, I already picked it up ---I learned it’s not the job for me. The following day, I did an express exit – first person in the HR room, surrendered my badge, parking pass, and grabbed my flower vase.

Pick-up line - Scene 1

Passing by Starbucks at 7th and Fig with a co-worker, a guy approached and said, “Can you bring the sunshine back?” I can't ignore such a good looking creature so I quickly replied, “Sure, why not? I’ll wish on my wedding ring!”
(A guy sitting nearby having coffee was laughing quietly)

Men!!! His ice breaker might work ---if said fifteen years ago :-)

Pick-up line - Scene 2

I stood in line behind a man waiting to order some pies at Marie Callender’s. He glanced one, he glanced twice, he smiled…and finally spoke.

He said: I love ‘em all (referring to the pies). What about you? Which one do you like?
I said: Hmmm…I like most of them too. In fact the family couldn’t agree on one or two flavors alone so I’m getting one for my husband, one each for my 2 kids, and one for myself.
He said: Oh…

(The smile disappeared, glanced no more)

Total insecurity

Incidents like the above I tell Brack. I’m such an attention-seeker I enjoy making him jealous, but he doesn’t. In the end, I get more insecure…usually ends up asking...”Dad, do you still love me?”

Hands on the wheel, eyes on the road

I’m getting paranoid with people on their cell phones while driving. I almost got into a head-on collision with a man who took almost half my side of the lane because he got his cell on one hand, and obviously, all his attention on his cell talk, while making a left turn. I’m sure his insurance company won’t be happy if they knew.

A dose of caffeine

I was never a coffee drinker, not until late last year, which is not normal in a coffee-drinking country like the

. Now, the stainless coffee mug is a regular on my desk. I hope my dentist won’t mind :-)

*****************
This is what happens when my brain is not fertile enough to produce a sensible entry…

‘Till I’m no longer lost in my thoughts…

Lost in transition

2007-11-01T22:02:00.000-07:00

On Monday I’ll be starting with my new job.

This morning I received my “goodbye” paperwork from our HR Director.

Tomorrow I’ll get my final paycheck.

This hour I wanted to blog about a lot of things but the keyboard won’t type by itself.

This time is not easy…I poured a lot of me into my current job.

I need to recharge…’till next entry.

what happens in transition...

2007-10-21T21:54:00.000-07:00

Two of my friends from way back changed jobs, rather, changed employers or moved to different industries, but does the same things they did for their entire career. Brack had the same experience last month when he left his job of six years but is now adjusted to his new environ. I hopped into the bandwagon and come Monday of next month will breakaway from the boundaries that kept me sober and firm for the last five and a half years. I am stepping-out of my comfort zone.

My lawyer-boss, whom I will still continue to work with as a contractor once I start my full time job at the other company, said I’ll be fine. A former boss who is my biggest fan when it comes to work said, I shouldn’t worry as I am good with everything. He said, I am like a Genie who gives him what he needs in a stroke of a lamp. I’d like to fill my head with their complements but I’ll be doing something I haven’t done in many years, despite it being my Bachelor’s. I’ll be learning (and need to catch up fast), two accounting application software.

Right now my subconscious is integrating my new position into the system. I’m having vivid dreams of invoices and financial statements.

piece of thought...

2007-10-07T22:18:00.000-07:00

New York shoes

Last Tuesday I got off work 15 minutes later than usual, I rushed-out the elevator and my heels went tak tak tak tak as it touches the marble floors of Figueroa Tower’s famous Sky Lobby. I passed by a man and a woman both in power clothes, the guy turned his head towards me and said “Hmmm…New York Shoes.” I smiled and continued walking with the echo of my heels’ tak tak…I wanted to tell the guy my Kenneth Cole are not New York shoes, they are mother’s shoes (rushing home).

Power Dressing

Speaking of the man and the woman above, I admire men and women who power dress. I'd like to dress like them but my income restricts me…sad. I just dress within the confines of my salary level.

Power Eater

Speaking of power, I am a power eater. At home and at work, I eat fast. All you can eat buffet don’t count.

Tail-gaiters

I don’t like them. One afternoon as I approach the freeway entrance, a truck in front of me suddenly stopped, thanks to my courtesy, I was able to manage a smooth stop. The man behind stepped on his breaks, screeched his tires so loud, and left only a hair-thin space between my bumper and his. We were both stunned for a few seconds…then he maintained his distance.

desperate comment

2007-10-03T23:27:00.000-07:00

I’m one of the 51, 830 people who signed the petition and I am one of the millions who think the one-paragraph apology by ABC is not enough to erase the impact of the unfounded derogatory remarks by Teri Hatcher’s character in one of Desperate Housewives’ episode. ABC claimed they are committed to present sensitive and respectful images of all communities in its programs. Obviously they don't practice their creed.

seasons change...people change

2007-09-20T22:04:00.000-07:00

Fall kicks-off today; as the day gets shorter and the air gets cooler, a reflection crossed my mind, hence, borrowed these lines...

Que sera, sera, what ever will be, will be
The future’s not ours to see
Que sera, sera, what will be, will be

I have grown older, in fact much older, that by this time, should have some certainties as to what my (remaining) future will be and what's in store for me. But as I age and acquire more experiences in life, my attitude had changed from being focused with the future to living by the moment and leaving the rest to fate. With this mindset, I get satisfaction in the offerings of the present, enjoyed slowing-down and appreciating what is here now. It is a relief to give up worrying on what the future might bring.

Seasons change, people change, attitudes change, values change…for the better I hope.

new look

2007-09-17T22:49:00.000-07:00

Some kind of virus forced me to give my blog a new look...some kind of agony pushed me to cut my hair short...

I'm enjoying the new look.

my sutures' gift

2007-09-05T22:25:00.000-07:00

I had 2 C-Section deliveries and my last suture was more than a decade ago. I bear a permanent scar which is neither ugly nor lovely to look at, but since then I have learned to love.

In the past eight years or so that I am consciously observing the effects of the sutures, I confirmed I acquired the ability to predict shifts in temperature at least three days in advance through the experience of mild and bearable uteral suture pains. If it is hot today and it’s going to be colder in the coming 3 days, expect that I can sense it.

With the weather channel and the internet providing us with 10-day weather predictions, there is nothing spectacular with my acquired “ability,” but to me, this anatomical weather gauge comes really handy and useful. And although it doesn’t really register a reading, the prediction is always accurate.

In for C-Section ladies?

the impact of a goodbye

2007-08-16T22:55:00.000-07:00

If you’re not a politician nor a movie star, just an ordinary person, the day you are lowered beneath the green grass, you will know if you have served your purpose in life and how much you’re loved depending on the number of people who showed up for your service and based on what they say about you. If the number is great and the comments are positive, then you rest in peace even happier. Sad if it is otherwise, at least you are gone anyways.

A relative passed away recently. The visitation chapel was full; the church for the final service was nearly full as well. People of different races were there, Catholics and Non-Catholics alike, united solemnly, paying their last respects. How did the departed managed to make all these people appreciate his existence so much? What was his formula for living life in successful harmony with those he came in contact with? He was a genius, smart and capable of doing a lot of things, yet exceptionally humble. He is quiet and private yet approachable and always ready to help. Never a complainer or a critic, he lived simply and honestly. People burst in tears, me included, upon hearing his favorite song played last.

When I find myself in times of trouble, mother Mary comes to me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

And in my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be, let it be, let it be.

Whisper words of wisdom, let it be.

And when the broken hearted people living in the world agree,

there will be an answer, let it be.

For though they may be parted there is still a chance that they will see,

there will be an answer. let it be. Let it be, let it be…

And when the night is cloudy, there is still a light, that shines on me,

shine until tomorrow, let it be.

I wake up to the sound of music, mother Mary comes to me,

speaking words of wisdom, let it be.

Let it be, let it be.

The departed left the family with too much crying, he left me with important lessons in life to work on until my final hour. I thought to myself, if only half of the number of people there will show up in mine, if only half of the number of people who will show up truly appreciated my existence, if only half of the number of people who will show up will say I have impacted their lives in a good way, then it will be the happiest passing.

(In honor of Ike...we'll remember)

...not that I like Homer

2007-07-31T23:44:00.001-07:00

Just want to laugh my worries away! I love Lisa though!

The Children's Bedroom

2007-07-19T00:20:00.000-07:00

If you are a parent, have you ever tried sleeping or napping in your children’s bedroom? I did. Once or twice too many, in the afternoon for siesta, or at night when I’m exhausted. Although, I don’t really sleep there overnight, the few hours or even minutes that I spend lying on any of my children’s bed is truly restful and savvy. I don’t know what magnetic appeal the room has but my mind and body drifts away to sleep instantly upon closing my eyes, a far cry from tossing and turning, trips to the restroom, looking at the clock, flipping and tapping my pillows, and all the difficulties I experience trying to make a sleep when I’m in our matrimonial bedroom. A few years back I mentioned this observation to Abraham and he articulated that I am so restful in their bedroom because it is a children’s room, children doesn’t worry, parents like me worry a lot, so parent's room are full of worries, that is why it’s hard for me to get sleep in my own bedroom. Makes sense…

Last night I came home late from work. On the way to our bedroom I had a glimpse of the children’s bedroom and was delighted to see the room tidy. The books, notebooks, and other things which mess up the small working table were neatly filed. The DVDs, vhs tapes, video games, electronic hardware and other paraphernalia were stocked in their proper places. I commended the two for this cool sight. I think I’m going to hang out there the more.

fogged

2007-07-12T22:02:00.000-07:00

I believe in balance, life is a juggle and maintaining balance is a challenge. To have balance in every aspect of your life is pure success. Family, career, friends, social, spiritual - dividing my energy, time, and effort, making sure not one lacks my attention. This is where I work very hard at. This is how my life evolves. I am plus and minus to get the equal.

I am not famous as Harrison Ford, nor a genius like John Jacob Astor IV, certainly not a founder like Father Flanagan, I am nothing compared to these successful July 13 people, but I believe that fate has a way of rewarding me for maintaining balance in my life, regardless of temporary setbacks, trials and obstacles.

Am I still the same person I am two years ago when I quoted the statements above?

Why is the frustration of things not happening the way I wanted them to be dragging me down? Why are my laughs so limited and territorial? Where is the strong-willed woman I used to call “me” a few years back? Why can’t I even write a meaty entry?

Ah...birthday blues…I’m still the old me…just fogged.

We heart this boy!

2007-06-20T19:45:00.001-07:00

Monday afternoon, the three of us, Abraham, Lemuel, and I went to Ralph’s with the purpose of buying Lemuel an anagram balloon. The cart was almost filled with everyday essentials when Lemuel said, "Mommy I thought it's about me!" And so we went to the balloon counter. Abraham eyed the biggest "Congrats Grad!" floater and wanted it for his younger brother. After a couple of minutes checking and rechecking, Lemuel said, "I don't need a balloon anyways, just get me Ice Cream!"

We went home with cookies and cream.

Tuesday, Brack and I missed work to attend Lemuel's school affair. He culminated from Elementary with an Academic Excellence Award. After the ceremonies and an important errand, we bought him a McNuggets meal from McDonalds and went home. He is happy.

Lemuel and friends
(Christopher, MM, Bryan, Salvador - he likes peanut butter)

Learning HTML (untold story of a half-hearted programmer)

2007-06-07T22:26:00.000-07:00

On the record, Brack and I are now married for 14 years. I should have written an anniversary blog but fatigue had me wanting to sleep than writing about our romantic memoirs. Besides, I thought to myself, too much confessions of love on the web is boring my readers. So this time, let’s forget about me once being a June bride and focus our discussion on my failed aspirations. I dreamed to be a lawyer, a teacher, and a programmer. I pre-qualified at Concord Law School but do not have the $7,500 per semester tuition fee. I wanted to educate children but I got scared…and I wouldn’t like to elaborate further why.

In 2001, when Brack left for the US, with me and the kids left behind, I got so hooked up with the internet even with the dial up modem frustratingly slow (I can still hear the sound of my modem when it connects to my service provider). I was fascinated with the web sites, and even then would want to have one, my own. During that time push button publishing or blogger was not in the blogosphere yet, or they were I just don’t know (but yeah, thanks to blogger, my dream is now a reality).

My employer that time was generous to provide me with a cell phone plan with so many minutes like T-Mobile’s family plan now. But yet, on top of exhausting the minutes of my official talk time, I would still spend around 15% of my bi-monthly salary for phone bills. I call Brack in the morning, at lunch, at night, any day of the week, anytime of the day and night, Philippines or US time, I don’t care. Then one day, I woke up with the bill in my hand, and started thinking of the economics, that time I decided I need to divert my attention to a cheaper alternative which I would also enjoy doing. As I was driving along the CEPZ main road one day, I saw the STI Ad on Web Design, perfect!

I encouraged one of my younger staff and friend Tetchie to join me, initially she doesn’t want to but she eventually did. In class, our instructor would address me as Ma’m, because I’m obviously older than him. I complain a lot and immediately requests for assistance when after typing a ton of codes and tags my browser wouldn’t display what needs to be displayed. Needless to say, Tetchie, who doesn’t have interest in the course learned faster and was able to view her firsts web sites in no time, while I sit there so frustrated and asked our instructor to correct my codes and tags in order that I can move on. Towards the end of the course, we used Front page editor, insultingly I asked why we even bothered to do manual codes in the first place, and the instructor was so irritated with me.

Haphazardly, I learned a programing language, moved to the US in 2002, and after a year of working with my current employer, was sent to a week of intensive training and became an edgariser, among my many functions.

Summing up my story, learning HTML was a passing, my way of curing my lovesickness, of Brack then miles away.

Hmmm. Why does it sound like an anniversary entry after all?

STOP!!! (Imagine this…)

2007-05-23T22:50:00.000-07:00

She got out of work fifteen minutes earlier than usual. Drove her SUV to the unusually clear roads to CA-2 Freeway. Dialed on her Motorola soon as she parked inside the Washington Irving compound. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, or eight failed attempts, still can’t reached the person. Grabbed her purse, locked the car, beep beep, walked by the pathway along the benches, straight to LACER room. “Do not use this door, use the main entrance” said the post. Went around, clicked on the door knob, the door was locked. Where are the LACER people?

There was a lady on the field, “Do you see that two tourist buses on the road?” (Pointing by the side street outside the school fence), “they are going to the Dodger game; they are the LACER people going on a field trip.” Wearing her blue green Hawaiian dress, black and blue blazer, bloody red ballet shoes, and green and gray Ralph sunglasses…(to the Madagascar theme) Dan Dan da na nan dan….Dan dan da na nan dan…Dan dan da na nan…She ran across the Olympic sized field, straight to the buses about to leave. With her arms raised up high…she shouted…”Stop!!!” but he is not there, she walked back to her car more worried and irritated. Taking one last shot, walked towards the main building. A lady came out…”who are you looking for?” she asked her. Her cell phone rang…”Mommy, I’m right by the car, I helped Miss Camille at the office, and I didn’t hear my cell phone ring.”

Yes, that was me, looking for Abraham yesterday, he got a hot scolding afterwards.

At night while watching the finale of Dancing with the Stars, I sat on the sofa, with Abraham beside me. I asked, “How can you let Mommy run across that huge football field?” “Oh, that’s exercise; you need to do it sometime.” “How can you let Mommy make a scene like stopping a bus to look for you?” “Oh, just like a love movie, you know when she ran to stop the guy from leaving?”

My boy! My boy!

(this is a 2-year old picture, but Abraham's naughty smile is still as is)

MAXED-OUT!!!

2007-05-16T23:53:00.000-07:00

Like a credit card that reached its ceiling limit,

Like tires of a car from a NASCAR race,

Like an athlete who just finished a triathlon,

I’m MAXED OUT! Totally tired

Are you a slave of your site counter?

2007-05-13T22:51:00.000-07:00

On a lecture I attended last Saturday, I bumped into a professional web developer and had a short talk on site optimization and site counters.

He asked me what my purpose was in setting up a counter in my blog site. I told him I wanted to know how many people visit my site and I wanted to know basic information about my readers, like where they come from, and sometimes to visit their referring URLs. Aside from that, I also told him, it gives me motivation to write when I see the number on my counter rises.

He asked further how much time I spent reviewing the details of my site meter. I told him not a lot, like one to two minutes (of course I didn’t tell him I only spent few minutes because only a few people visit my site). He told me I’m okay, ‘just making sure I won’t be a slave of my site counter.

He said he know a couple of people who spends longer time analyzing their site counter reports as if doing a statistics project than updating their entries. Further, he said, slowly these people loose their readership because they cannot keep up with the demands of their readers. According to him, regular visitors to a site expect something new each time they drop by, so I should update often, preferably on a schedule, to please my visitors. Furthermore, he said, your site meter will follow to rise.

Hmmm…why does it sound familiar?

The Observatory

2007-05-10T22:55:00.000-07:00

The day the kids and I first arrived in Los Angeles one of our first stops was Toy R Us in Los Feliz. On the way there, Brack pointed to that dome-shaped structure on top of the Griffith Mountain and told us, “that is the observatory; we will visit it once it reopens.” The wait took us four long years, a year more and it’s the same wait time as becoming a naturalized American.

Cut the story short, the first weekend it reopened in August last year, we were among the firsts visitors of the place. After the hassle of catching the shuttle bus for visitors, the trip was worth it, at least for Brack and the kids, being Science fanatics. While they tried some equipment and stopped for exhibits, I just walked and took pictures. In fifteen minutes my tour was over, rushed to the top of the building and enjoyed an aerial view of Los Angeles in totality.

The observatory, like the Hollywood sign, is visible from our bedroom window, we see it lighted at night, and it’s a delight to look at. However, I never before took a picture of this nice sight until yesterday. Griffith Park was on fire. I prayed for the fire to be controlled, and it was, the observatory is intact.

Jargons

2007-04-25T22:55:00.000-07:00

I once had a boss who is so fond of using jargons in his reports and on meetings that only he can digest. T’was around the 90’s and internet was not yet in bloom so I just relied on my Webster and whenever I don’t find his terminologies in there, I just pretended I understood everything, kept quiet and refrained myself from asking questions.

Later in the same decade, I started my MBA at De La Salle. I didn't enjoy hearing pretentious words. I never imagined myself using jargons until one of my firsts professors in the program told us, one of the things that distinct graduate students from undergraduate students is the use of jargons. He encouraged us to incorporate specialized and technical language from the sophisticated world of business in our presentations, written reports, and class discussions.

Not long after, everybody, myself included, started to use convoluted phrases in class, trying hard to impress one another. My mind boggled with synergies, matrices, strategies, and other terminologies that added complexity to the program. But that was the challenge, and I like being challenged, so I embraced the situation and… Voila! before that first trimester ended, I became like my former boss, jargons became part of my used to be, simple vocabulary.

But those days are gone; I survived the program. I am back to my old me, living with the principle that works in every situation, whenever, wherever… I KISS...(Keep It Simple! - the word for the last letter S is up to you.)

why i'm too tired to post...

2007-04-22T12:59:00.000-07:00

Center of my cube - Welcome to my world!

Right side of my cube - awww!!!

Center left - oh please...

Believe me, you wouldn't like to see the leftmost part. Papers, more papers...this is an everyday scenario at my cubicle. When will I hit the lotto jackpot?

What about me?

2007-04-09T22:31:00.000-07:00

“What about me?” he asked after reading my birthday blog for Abraham. Even before I responded, Lemuel started browsing my entries in April last year hoping to find a birthday entry for him. Left with nothing to say, I told him I just started writing birthday blogs and will come up with one for his coming birthday.

Lemuel turned eleven a few days ago. I know I should have written this entry earlier had my workload did not consume all my energies and left my ideas dry due to fatigue. Tardy as it is, I’ll make up…the kid deserves a blog and he is looking forward to it.

Abraham was born on a Christmas day; Lemuel came out on a Holy Thursday, forty-four minutes to Good Friday. My OB-Gyne said I always choose the perfect timing. Her husband drove her all the way from Villa Escudero where they are having their Holy Week vacation to slice-up my belly.

Lemuel is not expressive or malambing but he has his own way of showing his affection and concern for us. In fact, he is Abraham’s facilitator. He was delegated all the asking tasks, especially when they wanted new toys or games because Abraham knows it’s hard for us turn down Lemuel. Why because, he asks so nicely and so naive you will feel bad if you deny him outright.

For his first communion preparation retreat three years ago, I wrote Lemuel a letter expressing how we love him and how he made our family happier by just being there. In the letter, I mentioned two incidents where he displayed extra ordinary caring traits and considerate behaviors, incidents worth retelling.

He was two years old and could barely say his sentences completely and clearly. I was standing on top of the kitchen sink arranging the pots and plates on the shelf overhead when he held my feet and said, “baka huhulog ka Mommy” (you might fall Mommy), as if he can hold my weight or prevent my fall.

When he was around four, Brack and I twice argued when we left the keys inside the house and had us locked-outside in the middle of the night for quite sometime. It didn’t happen until a few weeks later for the third time. Just before I started to nag Brack about leaving the keys again, Lemuel reached for his jumper’s chest pocket and handed me the house keys. He said he has been bringing the keys (the spare that stays on top of the fridge) in his pocket each week so we (Brack and I) won’t have to quarrel when we forgot the keys again. A gesture from a kid of four...and we never ever forgot the keys again.

Two years ago, he brought pride to the family when he was certified intellectually gifted by the LAUSD (Los Angeles Unified School District). He will be going to magnet school this fall when he starts middle school. "He excels in Math and very good in Arts, a course combining the two, like Architecture will suit him best," his teacher said.

Lemuel's "No Smoking" slogan poster was best for 2nd graders

His "Happy and Sad" faces in yellow and 3D was one of the best for 5th graders.

His first (of many) Fluency in Math Award

Lemuel wants to be a design engineer someday but he also makes good omelets. He made me a proud mother but there are times his challenge intimidates me. Like one evening he didn’t get my explanation and asked me, to explain again, in scientific way, why onions make us cry.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MM!!! (Keep it up baby, all the way to USC!)

Follow up news: We've got a champion! Today 4/13/2007 Lemuel went home with a ribbon, a framed certificate, a huge dictionary, and a Toys R Us gift card as best speller for 5th graders.

early mornings in earlier times

2007-03-15T23:35:00.000-07:00

It was still dark yesterday morning when the chirping birds from the big old tree by our bedroom window woke me up so I decided to stay in bed a few more minutes. While I enjoyed nature’s soothing and calming sound, I instantly became nostalgic and my mind drew back in time reminiscing my early morning experiences in my grandparent’s house many, many, years ago. I realized, I’m so far away from the Philippines. I started to miss the country, our home, the time when I was still a little girl living with my grandparents.

I miss our neighbor’s roosters, our chickens and ducks, the sound they make which wakes me up in the morning. I miss the smoke from Aling Tasing’s wood-fuelled stove every time she prepares sweet stuffs and different varieties of kakanin to sell to the market, her transistor radio tuned into the local news with volume loud enough to reach four houses, including ours.

I miss the “Oinks” of Aling Rosy’s pigs as she feed them and clean their pens before daylight. I miss Lola Kikang inspecting her burong labanos contained in giant clay jars. And although the smell that comes out of the jar each time she opens one is horrible, people were crazy with her buro, me included.

I miss the lady vendors selling pansit, suman, and other native treats. Some were selling fish, crabs, and other fresh seafood catches of the early fishermen. Others has smoked and dried fish, both my favorites, and some vegetables. These ladies amuses me with their incredible strength walking along many streets of the city carrying the huge bilao full of goodies above their heads and announcing aloud to everybody what they have for the day. I usually save money for Pansit Malabon, and ask my Lola to wake me up as soon as she hears the pansit lady coming.

Flowers are lovelier in the mornings, and the enticing and romantic scents of Ylang-Ylang, Sampaguita, and Rosal enchants me. The best garden in the neighborhood belongs to Lola Mitang which happened to be on the other side of our fence, however their side of the fence had that thorny bougainvillea in its entirety. But I loved flowers and the colorful butterflies, there's a ton of roses, cactus and exotic plants and trees in their yard and I loved seeing Lola Mitang work on her garden, so each morning, I step on some old bench, stick out my head to take a peek at this lovely sight and risk a pinch or two of bougainvillea thorns.

Soon as the sun shines brighter, I would ran my way up the bahay na tisa, our ancestral home. Entering from the bodega, a cold, and dark storage where piles of clay water jars like those used by Lola Kikang for her burong labanos were buried underneath the soil with lids and covers protruding. The bodega is where my Lolo Ado’s family stores old and wrecked furniture, and other stuff which may have sentimental but no commercial value. On one corner there’s this old metal Spanish Flagpole which adds up my horror, so I would ran as fast as I can straight to the grand staircase and wait for my Lola Goreng, my great grandmother, to walk out of the bedroom with her native wooden cane and watch her sit at the narra rocking chair by the window.

I know I would never again see old women with long hairs in a bun and dressed in baro’t saya, like Lola Kikang, Lola Mitang, and Lola Goreng, nor smell the freshest air the morning.

Great mornings…then.

I was so carried away with the memories and my mind is ready to wander a lot more when Brack entered our room, I noticed he had already taken his shower. It’s time to get up; the hustle and bustle of downtown Los Angeles awaits me.

Foreign words used:

Ale or Aling – a polite word used/placed before the name of older women
Kakanin – varieties of native treat, usually taken during breakfast or snack
Burong labanos – preserved radish in white liquid juice
Pansit – Philippine noodles

Pansit Malabon - noodles prepared as in style of people from Malabon, a town in Cavite
Suman – rice cake rolled and wrapped in banana or coconut leaves
Bilao - a huge and deep round or oval tray made of thick bamboo skins

Lola – tagalog word for grandmother
Lolo – tagalog word for grandfather

Bodega - storage
Rosal – a white Philippine version of rose
Bahay na tisa – house of clay-tile roof
Baro’t saya – Philippine National Costume for women

she lives on...

2007-02-24T12:20:00.000-08:00

Not every married woman in the world were blessed with good in-laws or has good relations with their in-laws. Why do you think jokes about in-laws hating each other were all over the place anyways? This is because society had adapted the norm that in-laws don’t get along well with one another and although I heard from people that this is a common situation, my experience is otherwise. I have good relations with mine especially with my mother in-law.

Mommy and I developed this closeness and openness the night we first talked to each other on the phone thirteen years ago. Brack then was living at their house in BF Homes by himself for five years. It was an awkward scenario at first when I picked up the phone and heard her so surprised that a woman was on the other line when she was expecting no one but Brack to pick up the call. Shocked or upset, she cried and hurriedly hunged up, only to call again and requested to speak with me after talking to Brack for a while. She tried to hide it but I felt the disappointment in her voice that Brack may not be able to follow them to the US because of me. But that instance I also sensed her quick acceptance (maybe because she was left with no other choice...just kidding Mommy!), she told me things that made me feel I’m part of the family already. It was the start of many overseas conversations until we moved to California in 2002.

I/we, spent time with Daddy and Mommy only three times since we came to the US. Aside from they lived in Jersey City, work schedules and budget didn’t give us liberty to visit them often, however, the wires were very much open for us and kept us connected. Mommy loved TFC and since we don’t have that subscription, she is more updated with filipino showbiz than I am. This is a regular topic of us, on top of family happenings. We usually talk on weekends but once in a while she would call on weekdays when she said she dreamt of Brack or when she needs to ask me something, usually about the Philippines or some documents. She often reminded us to love each other, to be humble, and to be thankful for the blessings we experience in life.

Last summer we visited them at their new house in Florida, and since it is also our first time in the sunny state, we had a full-schedule going to the attractions in the area. Mommy made sure we won't miss our schedules, she would knock on our door each morning to wake us up with breakfast ready. She tried to please us despite her failing health and poor vision, with Daddy’s help, she cooked good meals.

Mommy’s been sick for a while. She’s been in and out of the hospital the last three months due to complications. Three Sundays ago she asked Daddy to call us but we weren’t able to pick up because we got up late, she wanted to talk to us. We returned the call but Mommy was asleep. Then Monday was a busy working day…I/Brack didn’t call her. Tuesday at dawn, we were shocked to hear Mommy passed away. I regret not being able to speak to her one last time. I wonder what’s she’s going to tell me. I owe Mommy a lot…she was a good parent…I owe her Brack, she raised him well. She made my married life special. I love her more for this. Now I have these moments that I wanted to call her and hear her voice, her laughs, her showbiz updates, but she's gone far away. I just miss her so bad.

MOMMY

Today is the day we celebrate you
For all the love, care, and prayers
The special way you touched our hearts
No woman could have done more

Though you're not here to hear us say
We're truly blessed that we had you
And though it's hard to let you go...
We wish you joy in your new home.

(Zarah 02/08/07)

Her breath I breathe...

2007-02-04T20:53:00.000-08:00

She had me when she was 18; I can’t imagine what pain I caused her even before I breathe my first air outside her womb, delivered normally in a breach position…whew! I wouldn’t elaborate on the pains I caused her after my birth; I guess I also gave her happiness all those years. After all, Mama thinks I am loving and compassionate despite being authoritative and sometimes a nagger.

Today, Mama turned 60 and I sang “Happy Birthday” to her on the phone. I can’t well enough summarize how she meant to me so I just borrowed this quote from Washington Irving…this is exactly how she is to me...I love you Mama, for all that you are.

A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine desert us; when trouble thickens around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts.

You know it's true love when...

2007-01-29T21:16:00.000-08:00

A young adult and his father on true love.

Son: Dad, I’d like to marry my girlfriend. I love her very much and I want to spend the rest of my life with her as my wife.
Father: How do you know it’s true love?
Son: Well, it’s true love because when I was kissing her goodbye last night their dog bit my leg and I didn’t know about it until I get home. (this was part of last Sunday’s homily….)

February is commercialists month, the time of year when affection translates to many material things. Every year the same…dinners, flowers, diamonds, and...iphones…(upps not yet! Brack are you reading this? ‘just a heads up).

I don’t understand why men choose to express their feelings on Valentines day where everywhere is crowded, when prices are all jacked-up, flowers especially. Love can be expressed 365 days a year, I prefer it that way. I’m sure there are lots of women out there who prefer to be appreciated and loved every day of the year, not just on Valentines. Yet still, women are women…that’s why commerce rejoices…women loved getting gifts and flowers anytime of the year, specially Valentines, me included.

I remember last year Brack got me tulips. I kept asking how much it was and when he wouldn’t tell me, I told him he should have just given me the money instead. He was irritated and told me he will never again give me flowers. A few days ago while walking on the street with lovely roses sold at the sidewalks, I asked if he’s giving me flowers on Valentines, he said….”if there’s a good deal!” Hahaha!!! I truly love this man!

By the ways, February 2nd is National Wear Red Day. The day when Americans nationwide will wear read to show their support for women’s heart disease awareness. I’d like to wear read this day.

tech geeks' vigil

2007-01-13T10:37:00.000-08:00

Christmas is my favorite holiday, it's not only for kids, it's also for moms, for everyone, for tech geeks like me. It is the time to receive (or buy - worst case, LOL) our dreamt electronic products. Fortunately for me, I got 3 of the items in my secret wish list (existed only in my mind - although obvious to Brack and the kids - yet they didn't get for me) as a gift. I got Discovery 655, the ultimate (so far as of this writing - soon passé I know) bluetooth headset . I got this wristlet the only non-electronic item I wished for...and dyarannnn! the bestbuy giftcards. What's so good about the bestbuy gift cards? I can use it for...the Wii, the cool Wii softwares...and this "life in your pocket" gadget that makes tech geeks vigilant until June - the iphone.

The proper artistic response to digital technology is to embrace it as a new window on everything that’s eternally human, and to use it with passion, wisdom, fearlessness and joy. Ralph Lombreglia

What a coincidence, I'm so tech every January...see my last year's January 4 entry :-)

what's in a name?

2007-01-08T20:43:00.000-08:00

Baptized Maria Elizarah, I learned I am also Elizabeth when I’m asked to turn-in my birth certificate as a college-graduation requirement. From grade school to high school to college, it was a big adjustment to change names, even if it’s just the first name. To reconcile the records, I turned to older relatives for an affidavit under oath that I am the same person and distributed copies to those concerned.

But despite the switch of first names, I opted to keep my nickname personally and professionally. Even my firsts and last sets of business cards in the Philippines was “Zarah.” When I came to the US everybody was calling me Elizabeth, others Liz, and a few others Lizzie despite my repetitive requests to call me by my nickname. So my old nickname is now history.

I have been “Sweetheart” since Brack and I started going out for until I had Abraham, it was replaced by “Mommy.” Not that I don’t want to be called one, trust me, it’s always a pleasure to hear the kids call me Mommy. Brack calls me Zarah on very limited occasions, one is when he is mad or irritated with me, but believe it or not, it’s still music to hear even if he’s in a bad mood. I don’t know, but I desperately love it when someone calls me by the name I grew up with, it is intimate. I could feel it’s me, just me and my own real person.

why i prefer Mcdonald's cookies

2007-01-08T19:32:00.000-08:00

Yesterday, with the kids help, I baked my own chocolate chips cookies...

It was a disaster!

How to start the New Year right (my version)

2007-01-04T22:20:00.000-08:00

I’m not really a New Year’s Resolution advocate but this year, hoping 2007 will be better, I have listed down my agendas. Although these are “me-specific”, who knows, one or two might be applicable to you.

A quiet welcome – for the past five years we celebrated the New Year at a relative’s house with everybody. This year, we initially planned to do the same but changed our minds the last minute. Instead, we bid goodbye to 2006 quietly with hugs, grapes, and a toss of sparkling cider, just the four of us. Such change is nice.
My eyes on the calendars – unlike the past years when I delayed the disposal of previous year's calendars, this time, I stashed the old ones promptly and hang the new ones right away. I’m not really superstitious but I heard from somewhere that doing so, you are giving the New Year an easy access and thereby things will come to you light and easy too.
I opted to simplify – simplification to me means removing the clutters and the excesses. The files, magazines, old clothes, accessories, and things I don’t use but still keep, need to go. I realized being sentimental takes up a lot of closet space. I’m sure Brack will appreciate this move.
I’m not perfect – and since I’m not, this year I promise to forgive people who intentionally or unintentionally hurt me in the past. I maybe one of the most understanding and caring women you’ll ever know but I hold grudges. And now I have decided to move on and let go of these negative emotions I’ve been keeping inside. Whether or not I’ll succeed in flushing it all out completely, at least, I'll try, and I’ll start.
I’ll stretch – which means two things: (a) physical stretch which I really need after feasting on the holiday menus, and (b) exercise more patience and tolerance. I commit to be more resilient. I’ll learn to accept things and people as it is/they are and not how I wanted it/them to be. Will definitely try to be more calm and grateful and not comparing.

So, these plus a couple more tiny things I will embrace starting immediately. Wish me luck!

Cheers to a new year and another chance for us to get it right.~Oprah Winfrey

why we don't have time machines

2006-12-26T22:55:00.000-08:00

If I had gotten hold of a time machine three weeks ago, I would have traveled back in time and did a rewind. This is because I have been frustrated and depressed at how some things didn’t turn out the way I expected it to be. I’m generally good at keeping myself calm and composed, but recent circumstances and cosmic coincidences required more than Brack’s TLC and support. Thank God for mothers who come in really handy. So there I was, with tears and matching sobs, I vented out to my mother on the phone, overseas, for almost three hours. By the time we finished the line-burning talk, the heavy heart was gone replaced by swollen eyes.

That was three weeks ago…

Now, if I ever get lucky to bump into a time machine, I’d like to travel through time and do a fast forward. But I guess, even if physics would agree to the possibility of time machines, I don't think these machines will see daylight.

Imagine this equation:
Women (a fickle-minded creature) + Time Travel = ???

Imagine what a world it would be...

Ha!ha!ha! HAPPY NEW YEAR EVERYONE!!!

Time hasn’t stopped for any troubles, heartaches, or any other malfunctions of this world, so please don’t tell me it will stop for you. C.S.Lewis

From our home to yours

2006-12-20T22:52:00.000-08:00

The spirit of the Lord
bless you and yours
with the present of peace
this holiday season.

americangreetings

the best gift of all!

a teen is born...

2006-12-07T22:16:00.000-08:00

A few days more and it’s exactly thirteen years now when my neighbors gone frantic upon learning my placenta had broken the morning before Christmas. Everybody seemed to be involved, everyone was rushing me to go to the hospital while I’m still enjoying my bath. “I’m having goose bumps, you’re having a baby boy for Christmas,” said our teary-eyed family friend.

Twenty-six hours of labor and my OB-Gynecologist decided for me to undergo what my mother completely dread, the C-Section. She is so terrified of the procedure that she often reminded me to control my food intake while infanticipating so that the baby won’t grow much bigger and that I’ll have no difficulties to deliver normally. Little did my mother know I am more frightened of having a normal birth than CS, scared enough that my cervix, despite regular contraction won't dilate to the last minute, thus had me lying at the operation table instead of the delivery bed.

18 minutes after opening, the baby was out.

A boy was born on Christmas day, with skin as bright as the sun and lovely gray eyes awed by his visitors. For a while we thought he was lucky to inherit the genes of his great, great, British Spanish grandfather who had not gray eyes but blue, until his fourth month, his eyes turned light brown. Gray or light brown it doesn't matter, we're still captivated.

The baby now a teen had grown taller than us but still a baby in many ways. He still loved to hear my stories of him when he was just learning to talk and walk. He recently attended an eight-day sex education seminar in school and when asked how it was, responded, “It’s weird!”

Still very much into his Yugi-oh cards, Abraham is fond of Simpson, Naruto, and video games. He is thoughtful and sweet but sometimes rough and irritable, willful in some instances but manageable. He is kind of jovial which is sometimes irritating especially when he transforms a serious conversion into a joke, but we since have learned to tolerate and enjoy because it’s his comfortable way of expressing himself.

Nevertheless, you cannot discount his care and concern for us, and for his brother. He would see me through the window until I drove-off to make sure I’m safe. He worries when his Dad is not home by 8 pm. One thing he most love to do is pat Lemuel's hair which he said he will continue doing until they grow old. Baam amuses us at how fast he assembles toys or installs/operates eletronic gadgets even without the manual. He loves to run. He loves the subject i hated most, Mathematics.

I could go on and on but I guess what I wanted to say really is, I am blessed to experience all these.

Happy Birthday to you Abraham! More power to our Fact Wizard! We hope you'll be as you dreamed of, making your in-flight announcement as - "This is your Captain speaking..."

Before you were conceived, I wanted you
Before you were born, I loved you
Before you were here an hour, I would die for you
This is the miracle of life. Maureen Hawkin

third in a row...but shall return

2006-11-30T22:19:00.000-08:00

Two of my closest friends at work said goodbye a few months ago. Another one is going, the Princess from Ivory Coast whom I loved to call daughter, is bound for Madrid, today.

Frieda introduced me to the books of Shel Silverstein. Whenever the poem “The Prayer of a Selfish Child” comes my mind, it is her I remember. She came to the company as a fresh graduate from UCLA. She is multi-literate in several languages, English, French, German, their native language (which I kept forgetting what it’s called), and soon Spanish, which is the reason she’s flying to Spain, to study.

Frieda is almost two decades my junior but we get along really well. I guess because we’re on the same wavelength despite the big age gap. Like me, she is also a tech-gadget geek, maybe more than I am. She changes her IPOD as frequent as Apple releases their newest model. Her digital camera? Conservatively twice a year, or so…

We spent quite a lot of time together in the office but the ones I remember most are the fun we had during our few gigs.

Watching a movie or a stage play is more fun when you go with Frieda. She’s got so much life in her and you could feel the genuineness of her laughs. I love the way she laughed, very much.

Driving and getting lost on your way can be fun too, but only when you’re with Frieda. When someone’s being rude to her, she would ask me to be rude with that person too, ha!ha!ha! No one’s more natural than her.

There were times I would email her in French trying to impress her but I gave up, languages are not for me, only for Frieda.

When she called an hour before her flight departs for Spain, I began to miss her badly…then I wrote this blog.

P.S. She is coming back next summer so the fun continues :-)

With true friends...even water drunk together is sweet enough. Chinese Proverb

sleepless nights...(surviving insomnia)

2006-11-16T20:59:00.000-08:00

For as long as I remember, I have been suffering from insomnia since the final three months of senior high school. I recall going to bed with a small AM/FM radio beside my pillow hoping that music will put me to sleep, but to no avail. Most of the times I would stay awake browsing through different frequencies as the radio programs goes-off the air one by one. The time I hear the Philippine National Anthem played by the early morning radio programs, is the time I start to drowse and eventually fall asleep.

The incident that I didn’t sleep for two consecutive nights prompted my grandmother to bring me to the family doctor. I was prescribed a non-habit forming sleeping pill that I would take only whenever I am finding it hard to find that precious sleep (evidently every night, during that time). Because of fear of not waking up, or sleeping directly to eternal rest, the pills ended up expiring in the cabinet while I struggled to live with the discomfort.

Insomnia to me is a disaster and a semi-serious disorder although most would claim; it is not a disorder in its own right. So, for years, I remained awake up to wee hours in the morning and would force myself to sleep when I hear the neighbor’s rooster crow. It’s like I descended from Dracula’s line that I am so terrified of sunlight making sure I’m asleep before the sun peeps out the sky. Fortunately, there were afternoon sessions in my college, I was able to carry-on with my studies without much hardships. I start at 2:30 and finish at 8:30 pm everyday. I wake up at 10:00 everyday, except for Sundays when we go to church, my aunt would literally pull me out of bed at 6:30 am to be able to attend the 8:30 mass.

I managed to move on with this sleeping habit for years, not having to feel the side effect until I worked with HEPC, a Japanese manufacturing company at the Cavite Export Processing Zone. Japanese people are so disciplined you can expect them to be at work early all the time despite a long goodtime the night before, or lack of sleep for that matter. My good friend Debbie (well she is not yet a good friend that time, LOL, I love you Debbie! Miss you too!), then our HR manager, put me on a one-week suspension without pay because of habitual tardiness. This was after serving me with two written warnings, and who knows how many, verbal warnings. After this budget-wrecking punishment, I tried my very best to get up and swipe my badge at 8 am despite the lack of sleep.

Not only did I suffer from insomnia, I also have an unpleasant habit of sleeping with my eyes only half-closed. My mother and Brack observed. Gross or scary? It’s like you would want to put two big coins on my eyes in an effort to shut them. Sounds familiar? It’s what they do to people who died with their eyes open, hahahaha!!! But time passes; people change intrinsically and react environmentally. While I still at times have problem remaining asleep for the duration of the night, I think insomnia (after living within for two decades) finally said goodbye to me for the last ten years at least, thanks to child rearing, I guess.

Now, I can make sleep without extra effort, my eyes shut and my mind drifts to quietness as soon as my back touches the bed. Thus this morning’s conversation:

Husband: You were sleeping soundly last night.
Wife: Am I really? How did you know?
Husband: I watched you sleep.
Wife: Aren’t you scared?
Husband: Why should I?
Wife: To see me sleeping with my eyes only half-closed.
Husband: Oh no. I haven’t seen that happen to you anymore. Your eyes were totally shut-off. Like the other night I woke up at dawn and watched you sleep, I just forgot to mention that yesterday morning. You looked so beautiful in your sleep, just like sleeping beauty.
Wife: Smiled at husband :-) (awww! It must be love)

No soda on weekdays

2006-11-05T22:22:00.000-08:00

Roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, mac and cheese, and french fries, perfect match for soda! But when I asked, “Who wants soda?” Lemuel replied, “I can’t have soda on weekdays.” “What? Why can’t you have soda on weekdays?” I asked back. “Because Daddy said so,” was Abraham’s quick response. “Oh, I didn’t know that. Since when did he tell you that?” After which, I kept my words to myself and smiled secretly in admiration of Brack’s effective implementation of a rule I never even noticed was observed in the house for a long time now.

I also laid-out some rules but I feel like I have to remind the kids time and again about the rules for them to abide. How come Brack’s were carried-on even when he’s not around to implement it?

I lived with rules too, hundreds of it, when I was growing up. I may have not appreciated most of it then but I treasured it deeply as I transformed into adulthood. As a matter of fact, I feel fortunate that I grew up under the care of a very strict grandfather, for his rules made me see life deeper and differently than most young people do. And while I have yet to discover the secret beneath his’ and Brack’s apt parenting style, I am satisfied that the kids are adjusted to following rules without rebelling. It feels good they are developing one of life’s most important virtues – RESPECT.

Even if they say you miss the fun by obeying rules, I still believe rules are essential to men. Zarah Dizon

pouring-out sentiments

2006-10-31T19:02:00.000-08:00

There are times in our lives when we experience conflicting emotions...

This simple eight-liner poem is a semi-finalist in the 2006 International Poetry Contest. A spur of my moment...

Conflicting situations

There are times I miss you

Other times I abhor you

What I feel is so confusing

Taxing my mind and body

Hang on or let go

Forward or backward

In the middle I remain

Won't dare to know

...originality, creativity, imagination, characterization, artistic quality, adherence to line limits, or universal appeal? whatever the judges thought the written words above might have, for me it's just one thing...a releeeassssse....

(grabbed the editor's choice award for unique perspective and original creativity 11/28/2006)

a picture paints a thousand words...

2006-10-18T20:35:00.000-07:00

While strolling the fascinating shores of La Jolla last Saturday, my attention was caught by these two couples, appealed more interesting to me than the graceful seals by the children's pool. Two pairs with their backs fronting the camera, left me with questions, what are they thinking? What are they talking about?

I flashbacked 14 years when Brack and I, because of a set-up by our friends at work, spent a day at the very comely Caylabne Bay Resort just by ourselves instead of being with a group of six. We sat infront of the beach just like these two couples below and watched the school of fishes enjoyed their swim up and down the wavy waters. We talked the whole day, took pictures, and basically lazed until the sun came down. We were not even involved with each other that time, Brack haven't even displayed any intention of courting me. But blame it on this intensely captivating paradise, after sunset, by the time we reached flatlands, we were already so much in love. So shy that we're not supposed to be falling in-love on our first supposedly group date, we just bid each other a casual goodbye. Of course my nights have never been the same after that day, and like a whirlwind, we were committed to each other the following month. What a marvelous feeling it is to relive unforgettable memories like this. All because of an afternoon stroll at La Jolla.

How immeasurably nature bind people, match their feelings and make them one...so peculiar, so special. Zarah Dizon

TWO much goodbyes

2006-10-08T18:35:00.000-07:00

I don’t exactly remember how we started to be close but there’s one incident that made me see how considerate my blonde officemate is.

Three years ago, marketing and licensing share the same room at our old office in Roosevelt. Mariah is from marketing and I do licensing. One day she approached me, “are you scared of cockroaches?” “Yes I am. In fact I am scared of everything that crawls.” What I didn’t know that time was, a big roach was there beneath my desk, around my leg area and Mariah noticed it and told everybody in the room about it except me. No wonder they were all laughing as Mariah asked me that question. She waited until I got-off my desk and left the room before getting rid of that big roach. There were lots of them in that old building (the same building where most of the shots in Spiderman 2 were filmed) because the tenants at the lowest level were either cafés or convenient stores. When I returned, she told me about the roach and I asked why she didn’t tell me at once, and she said she doesn’t want to freak me out. What a nice gesture! I mean nowadays such is rare. Even friends and family would put you up into something for a laugh…I mean not in bad way but…yes.

From then on, Mariah and I became good friends at work. She is a very good listener and adviser; this is despite the fact that I am much older than her. She’s got patience listening to my stories and experiences. Most of all, she’s an excellent movie critic. We both have Netflix and regularly I would ask her for good movies and I liked her recommendations, she usually classifies them as: this is what’s good for you and your husband; good for you; good for your husband; and of course, those good for the kids. She’s a graphics designer and a couple of times I would ask her help with my picture layouts, company stationery (she custom made one for me), colors for my EDGAR tables (HTML files), and many other extras.

Mariah is so easy to be with, straight, and simple. She is most lovely when she is blushing red. She is one of the few full-blooded whites who loved Filipino food, even her preference of spaghetti sauce had switched from the American-Italian style to the sweet tasting Pinoy sauce with hotdogs. I told her, she crossed over, and I appreciate her more for it. Last week, she moved to the clean air of Portland…

Almost a year ago today, my boss told me someone’s going to help me with my department’s load. He said this person’s sort of not challenged with her present duties and looks for more interesting tasks, like those in licensing. Perfect timing, I said to myself, as that time, upcoming projects and current ones were pushing for the same deadlines.

Fera is a natural beauty, young, ambitious, and willing to learn. Step by step I taught her the expectation and routines of the department. Some she got fast, some took time. Work wise, there were times we had friction, but beyond work, we became the closest of co-workers, sharing each other’s daily happenings, worries (we both are worriers and she is my younger version), sentiments about life, politics, our countries of birth, marriage, careers, money, and almost every other topic under the sun. Fera, like Mariah, is so accommodating and treat her friends well.

She saved the last hugs for me…my make-up washed with tears. She relocated to Flagstaff with her fiancée…a month before Mariah left.

Don’t be dismayed at goodbyes. A farewell is necessary before you can meet again. And meeting again, after moments or lifetimes is certain for those who are friends. Richard Bach

friends and birthdays

2006-09-24T21:53:00.000-07:00

To Norman and Mariah...

Fly free and happy beyond birthdays and across forever, and we’ll meet now and then when we wish, in the midst of the one celebration that never can end. Richard Bach

To Debbie...

The more things change, the more they remain the same. Alphonse Karr

To Kristine...

A birthday is just the first day of another 365-day journey around the sun. Enjoy the trip. ~Author Unknown

To Lorie...

"You're not getting older, you're getting better."
-- Unknown

IN SUMMARY, TO ALL:

Believing hear, what you deserve to hear: Your birthday as my own to me is dear...But yours gives most; for mine did only lend Me to the world; yours gave to me a friend.~Martial

Days of gloves and apron (a mother's back to school experience)

2006-09-11T21:13:00.000-07:00

The kids have just started a new school year, Abraham is now a 7^th grader and Lemuel is in 5^th grade. So far, both enjoyed being back in school after a 3-month break. They had to change from a year round track to a traditional track that is why they had an extra month of rest. For them, it was a long summer filled with long and short trips, lots of e-games, DVD, and TV hours. We let them enjoy their vacation to the fullest but from time to time reminded them of the house rules once they go back to school. A typical school week in our household is:

No TV, video, or computer games from Monday to Thursday. Leisure activities start Friday night to end on Saturday night.

Bed time strictly at 10 PM, up time is exactly 6:15 AM, without extension.

Home works are priorities and free hours will be spent on advance readings of class lessons or reading a book from the California Reading List of their level.

Aside from $5 for every “A” mark at quarter's reporting period, we recently implemented a new incentive for reading. A dollar for every book finished with at least ten vocabulary words and its meanings written on a sheet of paper after reading. As of this writing, Lemuel, the more enthusiastic reader, had finished four books for the week. He earned $4 plus lots of hugs and kisses from Mommy.

Abraham showed a big improvement too, aside from his 3.667 GPA last semester, he showed more enthusiasm doing his home works, he is also more obedient and inquisitive in a good sense.

Maybe this is because they/we had a very good summer that they/we can still savor every moment of it, it was exciting and relaxing at the same time. We treasure the experience and somehow made an agreement that we will try our best to keep the momentum and maintain a peaceful and harmonious atmosphere at home despite them being back to school. The children promised to cooperate. So for over a week now, both Abraham and Lemuel keep up with the family schedule and sticked to the rules. A far cry from the scenario we had last school year, and the neighbors are enjoying it most. And although they missed hearing my voice in the mornings and at night, I’m sure they still prefer silence. I/we hope this set up stays for until the end of the school year – forever is better.

What is really “Back to School” for a working mom like? These are the days when my electronic gadgets are replaced by the phenomenal gloves and apron. As soon as I park the car, no time to change clothes, I hit the kitchen and prepare food for the following day, for today’s breakfast and dinner were prepared the other day. Dinner is served shortly, pans, plates, glasses washed afterwards.

Back to school means getting up at 5 AM to reach the office the earliest possible time and leave the soonest possible time too. Back to school is mothering on a tight schedule, as I put it. It also means not having to worry about putting-on weight despite overeating because the carbs will be burned naturally by running to the office parking lot each afternoon, which is two blocks from the building by the ways, because Abraham is already waiting at his school’s parking lot. And I should be there sooner, for my cell phone will keep on ringing every five minutes. Challenging, yes, but mothers are made to endure anyways, I enjoy school days actually, and I love being of service to my children. Back to school is challenging for fathers too – I’m sure they have their own story to tell…

By and large, mothers and housewives are the only workers who do not have regular time off. They are the great vacation less class. Anne Morrow Lindbergh

if we had a girl...

2006-09-07T19:48:00.000-07:00

we should have named her MARIA VERONICA, her nickname will be Nikk...just maybe she will look like this baby... adorable...but then, two is enough for us, and we're too much happy having two boys :-)

Suri Cruise