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!<

new year!

Happy New Year!

boy, am I glad that it's 2007!!!!

methinks i'm the solid, tangible proof of hitting rock-bottom then resurfacing with a fresher perspective on things.stronger.better. constantly evolving to become the best person i could be.

this year, i shall rock the world anew. i shall be bouncin' with renewed vigor.

2006 was something else. while it was not exactly a bad year, it was a period in my existence which I'd promptly and properly tagged as a year of healing...just like what I've predicted to D on Christmas Eve of 2005.

it's like a phase wherein you get to rebuild yourself after a series of tornadoes flatten you out....a period wherein you get to rejuvenate your deflated bearings after carrying a ton of emotional baggage that has almost sucked the very life of you...a period of purging wherein you allow every particle of negative energy, vibes, ill thoughts and feelings be siphoned off your system - from the tips of your toes to the very tip of your hair follicle...'twas a time of self-rediscovery and reconciliation...a time to re-check one's spiritual connections and practice.

wow! 2006 was one heck of an interesting year.

not once have I faltered in my belief that I'd survive it, but it's undergoing that arduous process of recovery that had my patience really stretching into impossible limits.

but i did.
it was a surreal experience.
a catharses that had literally and figuratively grazed my knee.

yes. you read it right. "catharses". plural.

and I survived.

love.life.fate.

love knows no distance
life knows no limist
fate knows no boundaries
...BARCELONA

it's the most wonderful time of the year!

Gloria in excelsis deo.

at kahit hindi Pasko, tayo ay magbigayan....

A Blessed Christmas to you....=)

heraclitus.

it is in changing that we find our purpose....Heraclitus

i have never encountered so many crossroads in my life.
it seems as if i have found myself entangled in a web of pause-and-think, wait-and-see, stop and go.

i have let it slip...close friends and now to you - who have been silently reading my blog, that December is a month of discernment for me....

i have appended something new to this month of merry-making, nippy mornings, lights blinking perpetually until the day's light snatches its very life....it's a month which i must cautiously tread and patiently live...weigh things that have been cramping my head for some months now....

i would be taken aback with the small spurts of affirmation that i'd encounter every now and then..and it's always a warm, vaporous feeling that i'd be awashed with....

and then Gil Grissome would hit me, "it is in changing that we find our purpose".

maybe, i have known my purpose all along...and the surrealness of my current existence only affirms the need to come back to the one thing that has kept me alive....

hangin' out with the boys....

last Friday, i had two parties to attend.
it was Ms. Beth's bday and she was given a bash by Ms. Mia Concio. coolness.

just when i thought i'd spend the rest of my stay counting the leaves of grass, i got sandwiched by these cool guys.



whew. 'steeg.