this one's into my head now

EL DEBARGE lyrics

chick's baseball and my pen.

They call a short stay in baseball "a cup of coffee," and that's what I had, but it was a cup of coffee at the best table in the best joint in town.
--- Chick Benetto, for one more day (mitch albom)

mitch albom's newest piece is my current read.
actually, the impulsive buyer in me trampled all over my senses that before i had an idea of what's going on, i believe i have marched to the counter cradling albom's books - for one more day and 5 people you meet in heaven - and have fished the plastic card from my wallet.

promptly paid my purchase. no second thoughts, without looking back.

now, i am thoroughly enjoying every page of the book.

fact is, i have stopped on this particular page in which the preceeding paragraph falls.
it made me pause, think and reflect - on thoughts that i have set aside, but kept on resurfacing. stuff that bubbles inside my head that sometimes won't let me be still.

hmmm...how do i start? might as well let my mind drift and allow my hands to do the typing.

Chick's a baseball player who has crossed the rainbow of the game - the World Series. Chick has played in the Major League and figured in the World Series.
after that, nada.

He blew his knee, was healed, played in the Minor League. but that was as far as he goes.

he ended up being a salesman.

he had the best that life had to offer. but it wasn't enough....

i haven't finished the novel yet, but somehow, the epiphanies are humbling and small spurts of affirmation simply juts out from the pages.

Chick's line is parallel to every mainstream journalist's creed, you're only as good as your last copy.

this line made me work my ass off in every story i submit to my editor when i was still in active duty as a sportswriter. being one of the few female sportswriters added pressure to make good in my chosen profession, prove that i have something in between my ears, was more than just a pretty face and punctuated my article with hardwork and dedication that has earned for me the (then much sought-after) byline and respect of colleagues.

and then i left. worked as an editor in foreign land. came back. enjoyed my brief stint in the academe. and then joined a broadcast network.

i have never turned my back to writing. it has, and will always be my one true love. writing has kept me sane. made me still. allowed me to cry and comforted me best. writing has been my constant source of smiles. and it has never left me wounded.

and so, every now and then i pick up my pen and seek for a story waiting to see print.

sometimes, i'm successful. but there are times, i feel broken-hearted.

i had the best time of my life getting my nails inked. scribbling madly post-game interviews. waking up early for an exclusive. beating deadlines. wracking my brains for the perfect lead. hacking away my story on some beaten typewriter. helping out my editor to put our magazine to bed. receiving fan mails. getting patted on the back by people i thought i would never impress. be praised by people who actually knew i exist.

it was a giddy experience. pretty much like riding on a small boat and admiring the surrounding beauty from the outside. almost surreal. ethereal. and i could still taste the cloudy, heady sensation tingling and tracing the insides of my cheeks, rolling on my tongue, bouncing and bumping into every fiber of my body.

it's that giddy.

it was one of the best chapters in my life.

somehow it defined me.

gave birth to several realizations. unveiled friendships that are meant to be for keeps, and some that could only go too far. it has stripped people off their masks, and taught me that i should know better.

it was one of the best street in my journey and being led into it was like having the best teacher in class.

it was like getting the best seat in a concert, the performer pausing and dedicating that one favorite song of the moment and just cherishing the performance especially for me.

wow.

now, i am in a different field. huddled with an entirely new cast. and as i embrace new challenge to my growth, i am flipping the page of my book so i can write on a fresh leaf now.

no last copies for this girl, only fresh ones to make. >wink!<

it's all because you kissed me goodnight...wish ko lang!

I've been looking for this poem since i heard it from a classmate back in my freshmen year.
whew! college days pa 'yun!

thanks Bro H!!!! You're the Man. ahahahahay


Said My Pajamas and Put on My Prayers

I climbed up the door, and opened the stairs;
I said my pajamas and put on my pray'rs,
I turned off the bed and crawled into the light
And all because you kissed me goodnight.


Next morning I woke and scrambled my shoes;
I shined up an egg, then I toasted the news;
I buttered my tie, and took another bite;
And all because you kissed me goodnight.


By evening I felt normal, so we went out again
You said "Goodnight," and kissed me,
I hurried home and then I climbed up the door, and opened up the stairs;
I said my pajamas and put on my pray'rs;
I turned off the bed, and crawled into the light
And all because you kissed me goodnight.

I powdered my hair, and pinned up my nose;
I hung up the bath, and I turned on my clothes;
I put out the clock, and wound the cat up tight;
And all because you kissed me goodnight.


I ran up the shade and pulled down the stair;
I curled up the rug, and I vacuumed my hair;
I just couldn't tell my left foot from my right;

And all because you kissed me goodnight.

By evening I felt normal, so we went out again
You said, "Goodnight," and kissed me, I hurried home and then
I lifted the preacher and called up the phone;
I spoke to the dog, and I threw your Ma a bone;
'Twas midnight, and yet the sun was shining bright,
And all because you kissed me goodnight.

goodmorning Sunshine!!!

this email made me smile.
i love how this week started and how each morning is punctuated with a shared guffaw.
a hearty laugh. and underlined with an abundance of smile.

and i'm sooooo loving it. =)

special thanks to my handsome bro, Haeroldous. i hope i spelled your name right. hahaha


After A While

after a while you learn the subtle difference
between holding a hand and chaining a soul,

and you learn that love doesn't mean leaning
and company doesn't mean security,

and you begin to learn that kisses aren't contracts
and presents aren't promises,

and you begin to accept your defeats with your head up and your eyes open,
with the grace of an adult, not the grief of a child.

and you learn to build all your roads on today
because tomorrow's ground is too uncertain for plans,
and futures have a way of falling down in mid-flight.

after a while you learn that even sunshine burns if you get too much.
so plant your own garden and decorate your own soul,
instead of waiting for someone to bring you flowers.

and you learn that you really can endure...
that you really are strong, and you really do have worth.
and you learn and learn...with every goodbye, you learn.

(by Veronica Shoffstoll - 1971)

hmmm..

i don't like fat. pork fat. beef fat. lamb fat. chicken fat.
perhaps, the only fat that i could tolerate are the ones attached to my body...and sinigang na bangus belly.

two days ago, we had nilagang baka for lunch.

i have scooped the veggies - cabbage, lettuce, squash, beans - and was stoking the serving bowl with my fork, looking for the beef. with no fat, of course. finding none, i asked Nanay how come it's all fat. of course, that's not entirely true. there are beef chunks in the broth, but the cut parts are not exactly to my liking..so i went to scoop some from the casserole.

but i have finished the beef with gusto and i was in want of some more.

i wandered again if there's still some more beef.
you know what my Nanay did?
hiniwa niya ang karne na nasa plato niya. inilagay niya ang lahat ng laman sa plato ko, at tuloy ang kaniyang pagkain habang kami'y nagkukuwentuhan.

I JUST LOVE MY MOM.

sleepless and surfing.

it's two minutes past one in the morning. and i should really be sleeping right now.
but then again, i am too hooked-up with the net, surfing - people from the past, friends, colleagues, high school crushes - that i've been waving off sleep's incessant call.

and now i'm blogging.

i met up with my very good friend yesterday - DJ.

though i'd rather stay home and run my CSI DVD Marathon, there's something with the way her SMS sounded that i felt i should meet her.
and so we met, lunched, went to the supermarket and gabbed.

cradling coffee cups in our hands, taking itsy bites of the New York Cheesecake that idly sits on the marble top between us. gabbing about life. on the two high school friends we saw with their respective girlfriends. past loves. her kids. high school. her siblings. her mom. my work. my being a workaholic. my lovelife - or lack of it (hahahahaha).

DJ asked if i'm okay. i smiled. i gave her a reassuring smile.
of course. i'm loving life, and i guess it's pretty obvious with the way how things are going right now.

one's happiness need not be anchored on someone.
one has to be happy by herself, before she could find happiness by being with another.

i am happy. not exactly contentd, but i feel blessed.

i know, one day soon, i'll be happier and would be feeling more blessed.

and when that day comes, i know, more people will be happy for me.

my bad, it's Emily.

it was just the affirmation i needed.
the title of the previous post was also the title of Emily Dickinson's poem, and not Frost.
my loud musing paid off as Tel (who keeps tab of my wanderings via this blog by the way, hehehehe) SMSed me.

the past week was exhausting. but it was the kind of exhaustion that you get to appreciate come weekend....it was a productive week as well.

after hieing off to Iloilo for the Pinoy Pop Superstar Roadshow in Iloilo, wherein i was reunited anew with these very beautiful palanggas...


at heto pa....

i had to pack my bags again for the two-day team-building seminar that my Corp.Comm. Family had cooked-up in Subic held last Thursday and Friday.
lahat ng gurls sa Family, magaganda!


it was a blast! especially, when my group won the overall games....

the PATA Team. hahahaha

this is my new FAMILY now...


and my 'mumsie' and 'pops' ....
i am sooooo blessed to have all of them...and was blessed more to share a day and a half with them with no PC to harass me. hahahahaha


and i've never felt more energized and inspired to start working again.
hahahahaha
talk about being a sucker for work.

that's me.

was it Frost?

After great Pains, a Formal feeling comes.
(sabi ko nga sa shoutout ko sa Friendster) it's not just me waxing romantic. it's me being thankful that i have lived and loved with the kind of passion that have driven me to an ecstatic bliss and abysymal lows, with enough passion that had me fragmented and made me whole again.

while the process of being shattered is something that i wouldn't wish even to my enemies (wala naman 'ata akong enemy...not that i'm a saint) I believe, it's the ultimate test of one's strength and character.

one could only be thankful that it's over.

i was talking to J (chatting was more like it) yesterday.
and i was recounting an Iloilo trip. i was conjuring the imagery with the best words that my mind could spit. and i was smiling the entire time.
i was sharing a story of two wonderful persons who stamped the nose-shaped province with their spirit but did not end up together.

the story was beautifully sad.
and the lips (well, the hands actually did the typing...so there.) that carried the tale could only spell enough melancholy.

J said it was sad. i agree. but the beauty there, i guess, is the capacity to remember and actually tell the story by being sad no more.

so, it's me. hahaha

i'm just happy sharing that thought 'coz i'm back in the same place, walking the walks and inhaling the throbbing spirit of the city.

sabi ko nga kay J, the spirit of the moment is gone. only the memories remain.

why am i writing it?

so that those who are hurting (are you listening JR? hahaha) will know that it's alright to feel sorry for themselves, to mourn, to grieve, to feel depress, to own their pain, and then start living again and then move one.

we are all entitled to feel the anguish that every separation brings.
to feel helpless. to feel unloved. uncared. unwanted. inadequate.

and after indulging in the pain, once must know that it's time to live and move on.

sometimes kasi, we need affirmations that it's okay to cry. to actually let the aggrieved person cry rather than stifle the hurt that's wrestling and wracking one's very core.

it is in crying (wail if you must) that we find the perfect way to exhaust every intangible and fractured piece of spirit that is bottled in our core. kundi, mabu-buang lang tayo.

to cry is to exhale; to unburden our spirit with numbing blows; to cry is to purge ourselves with crippling abstracts that may forever leave us dented.

tough as how some people see me, i cry.

because it is in crying that i find my strength. knowing that i have shed tears and wiped away the last of my sobs, i can look forward to being whole again. finding my smile. welcoming sunshine back into my life.

something that i am now.

After Great Pains, Formal Feeling Comes.

iloilo musings.

i started my week by hopping on to Cebu Pac's second morning flight bound for Iloilo.
it's me, at work.
in the midst of the frentic and exciting press meet i've mounted last night, my Big Boss texted me about the DEparttment's out-of-town team-building by the middle of this week.

i'm Subic-bound as soon as i hit Manila tomorrow.

i smiled...well, i actually bit my lip from laughing.

literally, i am living my life in a suitcase...at least for the month of May!

i just have barely enough time to unload my soiled clothing to make room for fresh ones; just having enough allowance to let my suitcase breathe for a few hours before i lug it to our new destination.

cool no? it's not me bragging. it's me, just feeling awesome and blessed at the same time to go around and meet real nice people....and i know, it's in mingling and meeting these new faces and making new friends and whiling time and conversing with them that i grow.

and it's this facet of my work that i really enjoy the most.

true that i get tired. i feel worn-out.
but the sense of fulfillment that i get is something that refreshes me at the same time.

hmmmm.

incurable.

i am a hopeless romantic. an incurable Bora junkie.
yes. this is another entry on Bora.


it's been a week since i bathed in its golden sunset and drank the vermillion from its sun.
it's been a week since i dipped into its calming waters and walked barefoot on its powdery sands.



but i guess, one can't get enough of Boracay....its endless supply of bronze goddesses..hehehehe

adventure....really, really nice people...and sights like this that would make you feel like a kid all over again!


see, i've got a school of Nemo behind me!


cramps did little to prevent me from conquering my fear. fact is, it got me reconciled with the adventurer in me.


rockin' Bora has never been this good!

(know something? for a nanosecond i was thinking of retracing my steps to Manila...
i was only too glad to shake the nega feeling off me.
i can't afford to allow an atom of tentativeness spoil my homecoming of sorts...
and now, i am only too glad i just let things be.
it was the best THREE DAYS of Summer for me, this Bora experience, i mean.
i know, another surprise is bound to unfold...and i can't wait for it to happen...am all tight-lipped about it, for now...)



i'm glad i brought a piece of it with me home...

on a high still.

pardon the lack of visuals. photobucket is not exactly cooperating and Mr.Friendster has decided to jilt me anew as my attempt to upload fresh Bora photos proved to be futile.

i am itching to read my friends' messages and comments on my Bora adventure. and i really am going to barge into a net shop tomorrow just to browse over my Friendster missive.

i know. i know. i am starting to sound like a crackhead - blabbering about Bora and nothing else.
i can't help it. really. i'm Bora intoxicated. and i am on a high still.

actually, i could still feel the warmth of the Bora sun on my skin.
hehehehe
it's coz i got it tattoed on my back. really...i'll upload it here, as soon as the cyber geniuses find means and ways to make the traffic a tad bearable.

imagine? Friendster's down for two days now?
humpht.

and for the wonderful people silently following my adventures...
standby.

the month of flowers is just starting...and there's a lot of exciting things bound to happen and wonderful people to meet.

ciao.

Bora! Bora! Bora!

it was my first trip in four years..in summation, it was my seventh.
Boracay, as i have always claimed, has become some sort of my second home.
it did not disappoint me when i traced my steps to this island that nestles one of the most beautiful sunset that has unfolded before my eyes....

words escape me now as i nurture a hangover that might take a few more days before it finally wear off...i don't mind. really...i wish, it won't go away.

i guess i'll just let these pictures show how much i enjoyed Bora.


Bora silhouette.


let's do the Bora Silhouette Jump!


Bes Joey and his trademark smirk..or is it smile? sheesh. sa lahat ata ng picture namin, ganito ang ngiti niya. i know this guy enjoyed Bora. hehehehe
bakit kaya? =P
basta happy 'tong mamang 'to, kahit naiiwan ako sa ere minsan....=P


there you go...ang ganda ng view hano?!! shempre!
a Bora visit is not complete without having your pic taken against the mountain silhouette at sunset. Papa Jonas took our pic. may makulit sa likod eh.


Boracay Bronze Goddesses! 'wag nang umangal.


well, ain't that sweet. ;)

threesome ;)

this guy's one of the smartest and wittiest i've met on the island.

and this guy's one of the coolest. and i'm so glad he's there. ;)

Tin and I kayaked from Station 1 to Station 3 and back..something na hindi kinaya ni Jonas! hahahaha

because, we GIRLS ROCK! hahahahhahaa

all geared up for the WALL CLIMBING event of TRIBU X TOUR.

Kuya GIl's one of the most patient and coolest person i've met. siya ang nag-belay sa'kin.

last look at the cam before THE CLIMB.

let's get it on!

this is me, getting the cramps! shayt.

the yabang factor! YES! I REACHED THE TOP! hahahahhahaa


intoxicated with Bora still!!!

this dude kidnapped me from my Aria dinner! humpht. and it's because of an "emergency". =P

the ARIA 4 CHEESE TRIUMVIRATE! at pinagkaguluhan talaga kami!!! Tin, kwento mo nga!

we rocked the hoops! hahahaha

we are BORA's FAB FOUR!

Yes, I am the very definition of Sun-kissed. hahahahhaa

Until my next visit.....sigh....

hopefully with someone who'll watch the sunset with me and wax romantic. ;)

Boracay here I come!

I am going to Bora this weekend...my haven.
and i am going to wear my swimsuit, not the itsy-bitsy kind, silly.

I am going to Bora, and that's it. >wink!<

how much does he love her....?

how much does he love her...?

on a crowded avenue, he made her stop walking.
took off his cap, became lost in her eyes and bent down to kiss her.

***

today i found something i thought i wouldn't have the courage to face, and my heart was lightened. then i was reminded, "Forgive yourself".

flowers can make anyone smile.

i have always harbored a secret tendre with flowers.
they make me smile. they make me feel better. they make me feel appreciated.
they reassure me that when things get pretty awry, good things are bound to come next.

i am so freakin' exhausted. a lot of things are running inside my head.
i'm tired. drained. and there's a dull pain thudding idly inside my head.
it's beyond the physical.
it's the mental exhaustion that has perhaps (heck, it is), taken its toll on me.

i glanced at the Justine and Jessie and i managed to force out a smile.
i envy the pretty miss. she's swamped with flowers.
pink. red. white. yellow.flowers.
in big and small beribboned baskets.

i wish my table's spilling with flowers right now....

si Einstein.si Florence Nightingale. ang soccer at ako, ang manunulat.

When I was a kid, I often indulge in daydreams.

One day, I was this Einstein wannabe.

My greatest dream then – to concoct an expectorant that will snag the tiniest phlegm of stupidity and selfishness that has taken root in every person’s cranium and promptly expel from the polluted system.

I passed through that stage wherein I thought (and with Nanay’s prodding) I’d look good in a crisp, white uniform with that starchy little cap on my head. I thought I’d be the next Pinay Florence Nightingale.

And then, there was a time I thought entering the PMA and donning a Navy uniform would be the coolest thing for me (I ruled out the airforce, ‘coz I fear heights. Army is a bit ordinary, or so I thought.Hehehehe).
I dreamt of entering military school.

When I was in high school, I was drugged with thoughts of excelling in sports. I thought I’d be the next softball sensation - sporting the spanking, smart, pin-striped uniform of my school varsity. But just like my dream of suiting up as a junior basketeer, Tatay quashed the thought.
He wouldn’t want me to become a lesbian.

But then again, I wasn’t to be restrained too simply.
In college, I played soccer for three straight years, and went on to become my Faculty’s team captain on my senior year.
It was fun. True, I was observed to be a tad boyish for some boys’ standards, but I don’t care. I enjoyed the game and was, still is, perfectly in touch with my feminine side.

When I stepped into the university, I know, my calling was to become a communicator. Since elementary, I have developed this love affair with the printed word. Reading is only second to breathing.
And it is in writing that I found my heart.
The first stirrings of love pulsed through me, when I discovered the magic of writing.

I liked seeing my nails getting inked – from jotting down lectures, notes, interviews, quotes, using the typewriter.

There’s a different kind of high in getting facts, chasing people for interview, cramming everything into coherent phrases, shaping sentences, sewing paragraphs for stories that would inform people, make them laugh, tug their hears, shape opinions.

And there’s a different sense of fulfillment in seeing people actually read what you have written, it’s euphoric when an authority in the field actually acknowledge your existence.

And then I almost forgot how it is to dream, much more, indulge in that child-like trance of daydreaming things the adult me would perhaps dismiss as too simple, too naïve.

Almost. Forgotten. Almost forgotten.
But not quite.

I indulge in daydreaming still. Often, coming home from work. I daydream of spending one whole day, resting. Reading a book, snuggled on my banig. Tucked into my own realm. Unbothered. No household chores to think of. No impending bills threatening to nick my salary anew. Sigh. Those kinds of daydreaming.

Sometimes, I confuse it with my what ifs.
But then, that’s another blog entry.

the fear you won't fall....

i was sifting through a gazillion of emails, and i stumbled on this one.
something that will make any true-blue hopeless romantic sigh.
hahahahaha
perfect timing, 'Full House' is on rewind and i'm tickled pink with Jessie and Luigi's market moment.
hahahaha

trust me, flowers never fails to make any girl smile.

enjoy the song.


“The Fear You Won’t Fall”
Joshua Radin

Digging a hole and the walls are caving in
Behind me air’s getting thin but I’m trying
I’m breathing inCome find me

It hasn’t felt like this before
It hasn’t felt like home before you
And I know it’s easy to say but it’s harder to feel
This way


And I miss you more than I should
Than I thought I could
Can’t get my mind off of you


I know you’re scared that I’ll soon be over it
That’s part of it all
Part of the beauty of falling in love with you is the fear you won’t fall

It hasn’t felt like this before
It hasn’t felt like home before you
And I know it’s easy to say but it’s harder to feel
This way

And I miss you more than I should than I thought I could
Can’t get my mind off of you

And I hate the phoneBut I wish you’d call
Thought being alone
Was better than was better than

And I know it’s easy to say but it’s harder to feel this way
And I miss you more than I should
Than I thought I could
Can’t get my mind off of you
Can’t get my mind off of you

And I know it’s easy to say but it’s harder to feel
This way
And I miss you more than I should
Than I thought I could
Can’t get my mind off of you

happiness.

one can never have enough of happiness.
the state of being happy. being in bliss. almost carefree.
as if a thousand smiles rained and the droplets dribbled freely in and around one's mouth...
a tangible, palpable liquid scent - its swirling watery vapors tip-toeing on the lips, ever-so lightly...like dancing butterflies on the petals of a morning rose.

one can never have enough of happiness.
a dose of which can be likened to a cardiac arrest of bubbling emotional goo - sudden lightheartedness, intangible, addictive.

happiness is that rare disease everyone wants to get inflicted of, those who has it, never makes time to seek for a cure.

who would want to be cured from being happy right?
who wouldn't want to be wrapped in a blanket of bliss?
know no pain. relieved of hurt. unscarred. beyond the reach of a scourge.

everyone wants to be happy. you. me. and almost every person in my contact list.

but how does one find it? where does one start the search?

i have learned that being happy starts from within.
and the process is not exactly the very definition of brevity.
finding happiness does not happen in blink of an eye - lasting happiness that is, one that does not fold at the slightest touch nor waver at the faintest blush.

while it is true that happiness may be found in the simplest of things,
it is because one has learned to reconcile certain issues with oneself.

until there was you

sadness never had a face until you came and blanketed its almost ethereal abstraction.
it knew no form, now it is capable of touch.
it occupies no space, now it has a body of its own with fingers capable of tracing the heart's most faint lines and vein the chamber's innermost nerves.

sadness never knew a voice until you came and lend it a sound that has become synonymous with a heartbreak --- a soft cry only that only the heart can hear; a dribbled, stifled wail audible only to the soul.

sadness never knew me, until there was you.
and i have never been happier.

Ash Wednesday ngayon.

today is Ash Wednesday.
a special day of obligation for Catholics worlwide to pause for a moment, contemplate, reflect and call to mind the importance of this day as it bid the start of the 40-day fasting in observance of Lent.

please, if you're not a big fan of the Catholic faith, the least that you can do is bite your tongue - that is if you're parents did not teach you how to respect other people's beliefs...

in this space, i could babble forever on other religion's flaws but i chose not to.
because i was taught how to respect other people's faith.

my circle of friends is an interesting pot of various religions and beliefs, but we got along fine..almost 15 years...because we know how to respect each other's space and the respective faith that we grew up into....

sana, 'yung lahat ng tao..ganun din.

must share.

hear ye, hear ye.
for the married, single, recently un-coupled or single but in troubled relationship.
let me share this with you. something that's worth your while.

Advice for the married, planning to get married, single but not available, single and available, no love life.

Eduardo Calasanz was a student at the Ateneo Manila University, Philippines, where he had Father Ferriols as professor. Father Ferriols, at that time was the Philosophy department head. Currently, he still teaches Philosophy for graduating college students in Ateneo. Father Ferriols has been very popular for his mind opening and enriching classes but is also notorious for the grades he gives. Still people took his classes for the learning and deep insight they take home with them every day (if only they could do something about the grades...)

Anyway, come grade giving time, (Ateneo has letter grading systems, the highest being an A, lowest at D, with F for flunk), Fr. Ferriols had this long discussion with the registrar people because he wanted to give Calasanz an A+. Either that or he doesn't teach at all...Calasanz got his A+.

Read the paper below to find out why.
=================================================

PARTNERS AND MARRIAGE
By Eduardo Jose E. Calasanz


I have never met a man who didn't want to be loved. But I have seldom met a man who didn't fear marriage. Something about the closure seems constricting, not enabling. Marriage seems easier to understand for what it cuts out of our lives than for what it makes possible within our lives.

When I was younger this fear immobilized me. I did not want to make a mistake. I saw my friends get married for reasons of social acceptability, or sexual fever, or just because they thought it was the logical thing to do. Then I watched, as they and their partners became embittered and petty in their dealings with each other. I looked at older couples and saw, at best, mutual toleration of each other. I imagined a lifetime of loveless nights and bickering and could not imagine subjecting myself or someone else to such a fate.

And yet, on rare occasions, I would see old couples who somehow seemed to glow in each other's presence. They seemed really in love, not just dependent upon each other and tolerant of each other's foibles. It was an astounding sight, and it seemed impossible.

How, I asked myself, can they have survived so many years of sameness, so much irritation at the other's habits? What keeps love alive in them, when most of us seem unable to even stay together, much less love each other?

The central secret seems to be in choosing well. There is something to the claim of fundamental compatibility. Good people can create a bad relationship, even though they both dearly want the relationship to succeed. It is important to find someone with whom you can create a good relationship from the outset. Unfortunately, it is hard to see clearly in the early stages.

Sexual hunger draws you to each other and colors the way you see yourselves together. It blinds you to the thousands of little things by which relationships eventually survive or fail. You need to find a way to see beyond this initial overwhelming sexual fascination. Some people choose to involve themselves sexually and ride out the most heated period of sexual attraction in order to see what is on the other side. This can work, but it can also leave a trail of wounded hearts. Others deny the sexual side altogether in an attempt to get to know each other apart from their sexuality. But they cannot see clearly, because the presence of unfulfilled sexual desire looms so large that it keeps them from having any normal perception of what life would be like together.

The truly lucky people are the ones who manage to become long- time friends before they realize they are attracted to each other. They get to know each other's laughs, passions, sadness, and fears. They see each other at their worst and at their best. They share time together before they get swept into the entangling intimacy of their sexuality.

This is the ideal, but not often possible. If you fall under the spell of your sexual attraction immediately, you need to look beyond it for other keys to compatibility.

One of these is laughter. Laughter tells you how much you will enjoy each other's company over the long term. If your laughter together is good and healthy, and not at the expense of others, then you have a healthy relationship to the world. Laughter is the child of surprise.
If you can make each other laugh, you can always surprise each other.
And if you can always surprise each other, you can always keep the world around you new. Beware of a relationship in which there is no laughter. Even the most intimate relationships based only on seriousness have a tendency to turn sour. Over time, sharing a common serious viewpoint on the world tends to turn you against those who do not share the same viewpoint, and your relationship can become based on being critical together.

After laughter, look for a partner who deals with the world in a way you respect. When two people first get together, they tend to see their relationship as existing only in the space between the two of them. They find each other endlessly fascinating, and the overwhelming power of the emotions they are sharing obscures the outside world. As the relationship ages and grows, the outside world becomes important again. If your partner treats people or circumstances in a way you can't accept, you will inevitably come to grief. Look at the way she cares for others and deals with the daily affairs of life. If that makes you love her more, your love will grow. If it does not, be careful. If you do not respect the way you each deal with the world around you, eventually the two of you will not respect each other.

Look also at how your partner confronts the mysteries of life. We live on the cusp of poetry and practicality, and the real life of the heart resides in the poetic. If one of you is deeply affected by the mystery of the unseen in life and relationships, while the other is drawn only to the literal and the practical, you must take care that the distance doesn't become an unbridgeable gap that leaves you each feeling isolated and misunderstood.

There are many other keys, but you must find them by yourself. We all have unchangeable parts of our hearts that we will not betray and private commitments to a vision of life that we will not deny. If you fall in love with someone who cannot nourish those inviolable parts of you, or if you cannot nourish them in her, you will find yourselves growing further apart until you live in separate worlds where you share the business of life, but never touch each other where the heart lives and dreams. From there it is only a small leap to the cataloging of petty hurts and daily failures that leaves so many couples bitter and unsatisfied with their mates.

So choose carefully and well. If you do, you will have chosen a partner with whom you can grow, and then the real miracle of marriage can take place in your hearts. I pick my words carefully when I speak of a miracle. But I think it is not too strong a word. There is a miracle in marriage. It is called transformation. Transformation is one of the most common events of nature. The seed becomes the flower.
The cocoon becomes the butterfly. Winter becomes spring and love becomes a child. We never question these, because we see them around us every day. To us they are not miracles, though if we did not know them they would be impossible to believe. Marriage is a transformation we choose to make.

Our love is planted like a seed, and in time it begins to flower. We cannot know the flower that will blossom, but we can be sure that a bloom will come. If you have chosen carefully and wisely, the bloom will be good. If you have chosen poorly or for the wrong reason, the bloom will be flawed. We are quite willing to accept the reality of negative transformation in a marriage. It was negative transformation that always had me terrified of the bitter marriages that I feared when I was younger.

It never occurred to me to question the dark miracle that transformed love into harshness and bitterness. Yet I was unable to accept the possibility that the first heat of love could be transformed into something positive that was actually deeper and more meaningful than the heat of fresh passion. All I could believe in was the power of this passion and the fear that when it cooled I would be left with something lesser and bitter. But there is positive transformation as well. Like negative transformation, it results from a slow accretion of little things. But instead of death by a thousand blows, it is growth by a thousand touches of love. Two histories intermingle. Two separate beings, two separate presence, two separate consciousnesses come together and share a view of life that passes before them. They remain separate, but they also become one.

There is an expansion of awareness, not a closure and a constriction, as I had once feared. This is not to say that there is not tension and there are not traps. Tension and traps are part of every choice of life, from celibate to monogamous to having multiple lovers. Each choice contains within it the lingering doubt that the road not taken somehow more fruitful and exciting, and each becomes dulled to the richness that it alone contains.

But only marriage allows life to deepen and expand and be leavened by the knowledge that two have chosen, against all odds, to become one.
Those who live together without marriage can know the pleasure of shared company, but there is a specific gravity in the marriage commitment that deepens that experience into something richer and more complex. So do not fear marriage, just as you should not rush into it for the wrong reasons. It is an act of faith and it contains within it the power of transformation.

If you believe in your heart that you have found someone with whom you are able to grow, if you have sufficient faith that you can resist the endless attraction of the road not taken and the partner not chosen, if you have the strength of heart to embrace the cycles and seasons that your love will experience, then you may be ready to seek the miracle that marriage offers. If not, then wait. The easy grace of a marriage well made is worth your patience. When the time comes, a thousand flowers will bloom... endlessly.

Princess Hours

koreanovelas make me smile. make me sigh.make me wish that the reel is real.
make me laugh. it tickles my heart. strokes my fancy and makes me fall in love without failure.

blame it on my sister.
if addiction to koreanovelas is dangerous, then K and i are full-blown cases that is beyond de-contamination.

but i'm more choosy.
i go for the ones that tread the romantic-comedy pathways.

Kim Sam Soon. My Girl. Full House. Attic Cat. Love Story In Harvard...
and now, Princess Hours.

the storyline is really simple.
girl and boy hates each other's guts.
moves in different circles. fancies different taste. poles apart in society's hierarchy.
but Fate butts in, pulls Destiny by the hair. and Love is towed behind.

simple. really. but we just don't care. >wink!<

crashing to sleep beyond the normal hours (please, define normal to us)...defiant to part with our blankets when the clock screams 7am...that when the hands of time strikes the quarter pose, we're the very picture of chaos - running around to stomp the last of our stuff in our bags and planting our dear uncle a hurried mano in an effort to beat the office's grace period.

all because of staying late.
all because of Princess Hours.

are we complaining? not a bit. hehehehe


p.s.
am going to Davao this March...and J said he's going to introduce me to a Prince Gian look-a-like...please pray that i won't do something foolish, like give the guy a hug? hahahahaha

post Valentine musings.

I have never observed commercialism at its peak, until this year’s Valentine’s Day.
Sure I’ve been one of those faithfuls who once made that pilgrimage to Dangwa – Manila’s flower mecca – to buy my mom her fave blooms (this year, I bought her a box of Quaker Oats granola bar, same saccharine dosage but half the calories), but this year’s spell of the V-Day surely had everyone frenzied, double time.

Costs of flowers skyrocketed to eye-popping figures. Premium seats to concerts were sold out. Hotels, motels and inns enjoyed brisk bookings and romantic movies surely kept the box office tills banging and ringing. Radio airwaves played a heavy traffic of tunes – ranging from the sentimental to bubblegum pop to achingly alternative. Heck, even the newspapers are thickly inked with everything that is Valentine’s…but I did enjoy that pull-out on love quotes and lines from the movie. Hehehehe
What can I say? I’m a romantic through and through.


I woke up to 15 SMS eager to be popped open and read, all containing greetings and love thoughts – whether it was an original composition or another forwarded snippet, I could only care less. The thing is a lot of people wanted to make me feel special and thought of on the day wherein the “uncoupled” (plain talk:SINGLEs) are either grossly ignored or simply pitied.

I swear, the mad rush (before and) during Valentine’s is starting to give me the creeps.
And it’s not envy, I’ve had my fair share of special V-Day episodes.
It’s just that I’ve noticed that the meaning of “valentine” has been grossly blighted and one’s barometer of “love” is reduced to envious shrills and thrills after receiving a flower bouquet or a box of sweets.

Personally, I think flowers are ultimately romantic…receiving them has always given me the shivers, almost ethereal. Chocolates or whatever sweets that comes with it are welcome bonuses. Both have been muted symbols of affection that is rampantly displayed especially on the love month of February.

Personally, I think, men should not only give flowers and chocolates to their loves during V-Day. Each time spent with their girl friends and important female figures in their lives should be V-Day. Women, I think, should not limit their partner’s affection to perfumed blooms, cute teddies or sweets, maybe it’s high time to acknowledge the small things that guys do but frequently overlooked.

But then, that’s just me.

***000***

It has been said that love transcends all; that the abstraction of this powerful emotion knows no time and is bordered by no boundaries; that love even challenges what is unconventional; that love, which rests in a lover’s heart has a language of its own, and only heart understands it best; that love, for all of its brazen simplicity remains a mystery; that love conquers all.

While some might scoff at the seemingly string of mush, I beg no apologies. You have to agree, there is an undercurrent of truth streaming from it.

Fate? Destiny? Hmmm..it’s time to get up and stop smelling the roses.
Best to acknowledge that the pretty blooms have thorns that pricks the flesh and paves the way for a bloody bleeding.

Hahaha

I saw this item in one of the major dailies on Heart’s Day itself.
One study showed that a good percentage of the population believes in the adage love is blind.
True.

Another sidebar revealed that the torpe guys gets the girls.
True.

That the quiet guy who at times act as the bridge in a courtship (that is yet to bloom, but already has the makings of a disaster) often ends up with the girl in target.

Why? Because individuals are drawn to the needy, the helpless, the seemingly harmless, hapless creature (who would rather be perpetually veiled in the cloud of angst and worries, becoming the emotional vampires that we should really be wary of…unless the ‘torpe’ guy shakes off his constant neediness and grow eggs for a change, but then that’s me) that is the torpe guy.

Why? Because Pinoys are an emotional lot, especially the women.

But Bo Sanchez has the answer, a most beautiful answer in his book How to Find Your One True Love…in a gist, he shared that finding that special someone meant exerting effort in doing so.

Unlike manna from heaven, “my guy” simply won’t fall from the sky.

We should not be looking for the one who’s our exact opposite, because the fleeting fanciness of finding something we do not have in us might cost a heartbreak that knows an unnamed hurt and throbs beyond what is painful.

So, will I fall for a torpe guy? Possible. Especially if it’s Michael Scoffield in line.
Hahahahaha

Nah, seriously?
Tulad nga ng palagi naming pinag-uusapan ni Mamushka, pagkatapos ng mga kanta at tula, kailangan mo ng makakasama, makakausap, makakatawanan at iintindihin ka lalong-lalo na ‘pag dumating ang puntong maski sarili mo ay ‘di mo na maintindihan.

Besides, we should know better, ayt, Chelot?
=)

sandalan.

Kanina pa kitang pinagmamasdan
Mukha mo’y di maipinta
Malungkot ka na naman
Kanina pa kitang inaalok nang
Kuwentuhang masaya
Parang sa’yo’y balewala

Sandali nga
Teka lang
May nakalimutan ka
Di ba’t pwede mo akong iyakan

Sige lang
Sandali ka na
At wag mong pipigilan
Iiyak mo na ang lahat sa langit
Iiyak mo lang ang lahat sa akin

Andito lang ako naghihintay
Lagi mong tatandaan
Di ka naman nag-iisa
Andito lang ako makikinig sayo
Sa buong magdamag
Sa’kin di ka balewala
Sige lang
Sige lang
sige lang

iloilo dinagyang!

i was back in the nose-shaped island of Iloilo for the GMA's pre-Dinagyang celebration event of which the Kapuso artists were a part of.
once more, i was reconciled with Iloilo's beautiful people and the very warm members of its local press...

the pictures are better left to speak for itself.


with SunStar Iloilo's editor Ms. Kathy Villalon-SIngco and Kapatid na Mon Salvilla who was kind enough to tour me to Jaro's beautiful Cathedral, the now-famous Capitol and Museo ng Iloilo.


here with the various writers and editors of the local papers.


night out!


on the streets of Iloilo! hahahahaha

more island-adventures, i hope. minus the workload soon!

si kuya cois.

this is a post that has been long overdued....

two days (i think) before Christmas Day when i happened to drop by the media center...the hub for reporters covering the poc-psc beat..i was brimming with enough smiles that would put the Baywalk's lamposts to shame.
when i opened MC's well-badgered door, i saw kuya Cois inside.
i found myself beyond smiling.

he was sweaty and flushed, the perfect picture of a basketball tourney aftermath.

i went on tiptoe to give him a beso, but he gave me a big hug,
"how are you?are you okay?"...

i swear. i tried not to cry.

somewhere between the then of the 12 months that have past and the now when i was locked in this man-child's embrace, sudden rush of thoughts and images flooded me all at once. threatening to knock the wind out of me. and i felt warm.

it was that kind of hug that offers solace. security.
it was the kind of embrace that underlines a silent promise - that at times of piercing melancholy, one is not alone.

it was a tangible affirmation of better things to come.
and somehow, being with two of the best guy buds in the calling i once practiced,
i felt a sliver of peace and bliss settled in my core.

i'm good. i'm okay, i told him. and he looked me straight into my eyes. and i smiled. and i found my voice. much stronger. coming in a fluid blast.

"i'm okay kuya."
"fyi, i'm now dating," i winked at him.
furiously trying to hid my embarassment. given a fraction more, i would have cried....happily though. but it was good that i was able to blink back the tears.

it felt great to be with them...even if only for a while.

i've always had this tough facade. nothing could make me blink. no one could make me cry. i could take care of myself. i'm the best person to vent one's frustrations with. the most reliable shoulder to cry on. i have this rather fascinating ability to shut down on my personal issues and attend to other person's needs first. lend time to others, rather than confront my own concerns.

maybe, that's why when i've had my fill of everyone's shit, some are shock to know that i am capable of crying.

well, newsflash!!! I'm also human.
i breathe. i feel. i laugh. i get hurt. i smile. i get disappointed.
i fall in love.
i cuss. i curse.

while some thinks i'm a mutant, well i have my weakness too.
even Superman has his Kryptonite moments right?

si Kuya Cois idol ng lahat. kuya ng lahat. gustong i-please ng halos lahat ng bagitong kilala ko.
madalas siyang busy. madalas siyang maraming kausap. marami siyang kaibigan. marami siyang ka-jam. marami siyang drinking buddy. coffee body.
pero nung time na hinug niya ako, naramdaman ko, 'yung sincere concern niya...

i felt a rekindled bond.
something that must've been blurred by the daily grind perhaps, the infrequency of our meetings, the sparse test messages/emails/calls.

but it was just great to see him again.

i think i've fallen....

i think i've fallen, fallen in love with you...

i have fallen for her charms.
the warmth of her smile that seems to echo in every soul that litters her glittery street...the way her face lits up with the yawning of a new day...the softness of her voice that comes in singsong fluidity speaks of home.

i have fallen for her charms.
indeed, i am Cebu lovesick.

this is me, on top of RGMA station wherein i enjoyed an overview of the city and the immediate lush greenery that borders the station's mountainside.

the weekend that has just passed, was my first on the Queen City of the South.
and i believe i haven't paid enough homage to its colorful, culture-rich court.

it was the first time i have stepped on its charming shores but in less than five minutes i have breathed its air, i silently made i pact with myself.
i shall come back for a visit that will know no time, no deadline, no pressure, no re-booking hassles.

i am intensely enamored.
the city pulsates with so much life. and yet, it dictates an almost laidback pace.
it quietly speaks of its history, and proudly parades its religion.
and yet, it has embraced so much advancement and has become the very picture of progress in the South.

sigh. what is Cebu without experiencing Sinulog?
i know. it's a regret i'm bound to nurse in the coming days. but my hands are tied and my time is not mine to ticky by. in my heart of hearts, i know i shall be back in this beautiful city which i have yet to explore, and yet the thrill of re-discovering on my next visit is enough to send a thousand sliver of pleasure running up and down my spine.

as i was walking down the ramp towards the boarding area, soft splinters of the morning light damped a welcome warmth on my cheeks. and i simply smiled. i think, it's Cebu's way of comforting me...that it's just a plane ride away, if i feel like visiting it again.

i felt a tender aching, as i remembered i was not able to visit not even one of the city's beautiful churches. i sighed. one day, i shall be back on this island of a thousand smiles. where beautiful people abound and sampling great food comes as a bonus.

in less than a minute, my plane has roared to life.
bound for Manila, i can't sleep. Cebu flits in and out of my head. unmindful of the plane's hum and the stream of chatter wafting in and out my consciousness, i'm already planning of my next trip to the island.

i know, i have tattooed Cebu in my mind.





the beautiful Cebu Press with Angel Locsin.

guilty.

it's the second week of the first month of the year.
and i am already guilty of breaking some promises i've made to myself.
that i should be straying away - as in with a 10-foot-pole , from junk foods. but what do i do?

yesterday while deciphering graphs and figures for a report (that's long overdue, not my fault really) i decided to take a break and make a beeline for the elevator.
i took a quick trip to our grocery where the cashiers greeted me with the kind of smile and casual chit-chat that's bred by my frequent sojourn in that comfy junkie paradise.

bought myself several packs of that darn, yummy, crunchy Bread Pans, tossed a bag of all-time cheesy Mr. Chips and that all-too-familiar fire-engine colored bag of Chippy.
sigh. heaven.

one guilt pleasure that i've promise to deny myself of, beginning Sunday of this week.
not until i've earned it of course.

sheesh.
i could feel the brunt of my unhealthy options when i started my gym class.
sheesh.
i'm not exactly a pro when it comes to dancing, but i know and was confident that i could hold my ground when it comes to storming the dancefloor.
last night, i was beyond disbelief! punyeta.
i couldn't believe that i couldn't make a decent body wave. well, i tried. but i must've looked like Marshmallow Man in his pitiful execution of the slide.
after the session, i huddled with Mommy B - a senior semi-regular gym bud and C who's about my age and JC our dance instructor.
there we were a quartet of whining jammers who are cursing to high heavens the loads of carbs, sweets and junk food we've stuffed ourselves with - but of course, it was with a good laugh.

and a round of good laugh we had even as the combat started.
the instructor was really nice.
with every jab that i've unleashed comes a muttered oath and curse that i should really listen to my body anew. why, i couldn't even do those muay thai jumps and kicks with the kind of fury that i used to execute!!!!

arrrrghhhh!!!!!!
did i mention that i'm guilty of promises broken? yes, you've read it all.
it's piggin' out twice over.
so there.

Paris.

while skimming through the mountain of newspaper back issues, i came across this piece on Paris. see, i have this habit of detaching the Sports and Life section of the Business Mirror as i find its foreign feature pieces a worthy read....and so came this material about Paris, written by a Pinay journalist.

scanning the prose, i cannot help but sigh.
for even before my mind could comprehend swirl of images and flavor that the author is trying to feed me, my mind and heart is racing towards that City of Lights, also dubbed by not a few couple as City of Romance --- Paris.

there's something with Paris that i cannot quite put my finger on.

while there are a lot of beautiful and breathtaking places i have yet to set on my beautiful Philippines, i crave for that moment wherein i'd be taking in Paris' magic - perhaps, next to Spain ( my boss, R, has promised to get that Real Madrid jersey with BECKHAM's name emblazoned on it when he comes back!) and Italy's enchantment....

maybe it has something to do with these country's old world charm and the soulful nostalgia it is capable of waxing...all powerfully reverberating, even at the mere mention of its name....the arts, the lights, the feeble throbbing that tickles the romantic in me even at the slightest, briefest moment of conjuring it inside my head.

Paris.

one day soon i shall be taking a stroll on its avenues...sipping cappuccino on its cafe al fresco...taking that Musee Louvre pilgrimage, inhaling the art works of the Rennaisance Geniuses and the masters of art that the country has produced...sigh....

'till that day....i'll always have Paris in my head...and on my DVD. >wink!<