I Just Need To October 22, 2009

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Stop for a while and take a few deep breaths. This whirlwind existence is interesting, but pretty exhausting.  I miss my lazy weekends, movie and DVD marathons, books and hot chocolate, leisurely me-time, and some belly dancing classes in the evenings. I miss having unplanned dates with someone who loves to hold my hand and smell my hair. I miss taking my dog to the beach. Heck, I even miss doing the laundry during quiet Sunday afternoons.

And even with all these chaos, I still plan to take up some Web Design and Dreamweaver courses and an English writing-related diploma course next semester. What am I thinking? It’s almost November. As if all the holiday rush, year-end parties, and gift hunting deadlines are not crazy enough. As if I am not stressed enough.

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Well, breathing is enough for now.

090909 September 9, 2009

I should be doing a post about this day, September 9, 2009, which happens only once in a century. But I still have some articles to write, so my blog post needs to be on hold for a while. Will get back to this blog soon.

— Fast forward two days later —

District 9

So the date was 090909. The 9th of September two-thousand nine. I’m not a big fan of numerology, although I have researched into the topic and have written a few articles about it, but something about the date struck me. Some of the cynics I knew cautioned me about going out that day, the number was supposed to translate to 666, the devil’s number, when turned upside down. Nonetheless, others saw the date as an extremely lucky one, and one of my bestfriends even planned  to purchase a lottery ticket that day. However I saw no big deal about it, until two of my gradeschool friends invited me out for a movie, dinner, and cocktails that night. Indeed, why not celebrate the day with friends, chitchat, and cocktails? Why not create a specific memory for a specific date, and look back one day and think “Ah, the 9th of September 2009, I went out with a few friends and had fun!”

However, however, the cocktail night did not push through. One my friends backed out from the plan, saying she’s not feeling well, so it was just Amor and myself. It looked kind of lonely, yes, but we decided to go with an altered plan: watch a movie, grabe a bite to eat, skip cocktails, and talk about anything. At the very least, I was not sitting at home on September 9, 2009, which was a Wednesday. Both Amor and I agreed that we should do something on that day, anything other than work,  so she skipped work (she works as a nurse in some private hospital) and I left my PC to brew for a while.

The movie was phenomenal, and I was expecting so. District 9 (District 9 in 999, i like to say ) got a 90% rating from Rotten Tomatoes, which is about the meanest movie review website you can ever imagine. I was pretty much blown away by the film and by the time we left the cinemas, we were already famished. I wanted to eat at some fancy cafe, but after a few minutes of rumination we decided on McDonald’s. We were famished, we wanted instant gratification, and we got it not five minutes after entering the restaurant.

Dinner was filled with nonstop talk. Amor and I went to the same primary school together, our parents were close acquaintances, and we knew each other’s siblings. However we lost contact all through highschool and college, and it was only just this year that we reconnected again, after meeting up for our grade school reunion last July. Next time we plan to have a cocktail night, and hopefully, a few friends could join us.

Well, my 090909 was not really that incredible, no booze or dancing whatsoever, but I’m glad I spent one working day of the week quite differently. It was not really a celebration, but I had fun — watching a really good movie does that to you, and when you have a great girlfriend you can really talk to and share some caramel sundae and fries with, all the better.

Looking forward to October 10, 2010, November 11, 2011, and December 12, 2012.

The Attorney’s 27th August 22, 2009

with the sexy attorney

:)

One of my best girlfriends in the whole wide universe is celebrating her 27th birthday on the 25th of August, so she treated us to an early birthday dinner tonight, before her flight back to Manila on Monday. Had a cozy, intimate dinner at beautiful Bistro Mercedes, then headed for a nightcap at Bo’s Cafe, where we ordered cappucinos, hot chocolate, and the sinful Oreo cookie dessert.

Happy birthday dear! Have a good one!

Me Time August 14, 2009

A week ago today, on a Friday, I treated myself to some ME time. Of course, I get to have a lot of alone time when working, especially since research and writing is basically a solitary profession. I also love my home and my bedroom, and I spend a lot of time during the evenings tinkering on anything I fancy- from a new novel to an old charm bracelet that needs a bit of polish. For anyone, these little things take up enough solitary time, devoted primarily to the fancies of the self.

But I realized, it has been quite a long time, years maybe, since I gave myself some alone time out of the house. I was constantly with friends, the boyfriend, and family every time I would sample a new resto or cafe, when I’m out hunting for sales and bargains at malls and flea markets, or during my trips out of the city. Lately, I was always out with a bunch of people: grade school friends, bubbly girlfriends, my noisy family, etcetera, etcetera. The busy-ness of late has left me with very few indulgences, especially those which I get to do alone. I am a social creature, and I do crave the company of good friends almost all the time, but there are times when I just want to get away from everything and to witness life through my own lens.

Suddenly I found myself missing the slow days and chilly nights in Malaybalay, where I would read for hours in a quiet cafe or order my usual beef teriyaki dinner at some roadside restaurant during 8 o’clock evenings. I suddenly missed the heady, giddy thoughts of meeting that special someone at the bus stop after a few hours, and get to walk the silent streets at night while holding hands.Those have been the sweetest of times.

Pushing those romantic memories aside though, what I missed the most was my independence and anonymity. In that small provincial city, I knew only a few people. It was kind of lonely yes, but those were the most indulgent times of my life. And now that I’m back for more than a year in the city where I grew up in, I found myself missing being alone, if only for a while.

So. It was last Friday when I ventured out of the house at past 3 in the afternoon, and settled  into some neat cafe downtown, bringing along two books, one a short story compilation and the other, a cheesy, schmaltzy romantic novel. I ordered a tall glass of blended lemon iced tea and linguine pesto with lots of olive oil. I ate without hurry, read my books slowly, and paused every now and then to look at the busy streets outside the cafe glass walls. I also allowed myself  a few thoughts and daydreams every now and then, and to smile occasionally at the people who would walk in and out of the cafe.

It was already dusk when my phone rang. It was Carla, asking for directions. She was heading to my dentist’s clinic, where she had a late afternoon appointment. After answering her call, I left the cafe, walked a bit,  and did some shopping at the nearest mall. Then my phone rang again. I told Carla I was at the mall, and would she like to join me? She was happy to; my brother who is her boyfriend had some exclusive all-boys party to attend to. So we spent the rest of the hours hunting for bargains, eating fastfood, and chatting.

That ME time really did me good, and although my good friend soon joined me after a few hours, it did not really matter. There are still so many late afternoons to look forward to. Whenever I feel the sudden need to just be by myself, I can always pack with me some new books, get holed up in a fragrant cafe, and pretend for a while that I’m visiting some far off city where I don’t know anyone.

The Crazies February 5, 2009

Meet the crazies. A riot broke when the four of us met up again for dinner, dessert, and lots of spontaneous discussion on the 30th of January. For some reason, we just could not stop laughing, every single time. When you’re with girlfriends you practically grew up with, the stories seem to go on forever.

We could discuss love lives one minute and funny high school prom bloopers the next. Then we would switch to fashion, something we all want to talk about, and then, just as quickly, be steered into topics concerning the recent global financial crunch that has Obama’s hands full, not one minute into his official inauguration.

Because Sora is a lawyer who works in the Senate, she dishes out stories on politicians and their little predilections, and offers us opinions as to who among the senators look better in person than in print ads or TV. She may be the only lawyer among us, but all of us love debates, so we always end up arguing over the most inane things, soap opera stars and Pinoy love teams included.

Marshie makes me roll over with laughter even as she utters the simplest of remarks. She treats everything you say as a joke moreover, so you end up giggling over something or other. She’s overly conscious with her weight, even when she’s already lost a lot of pounds in recent years and has never looked better. And she’s baring a bit of cleavage now! Case in point:

That’s a bra cup right there, or at least a part of it. Haha. She was thrilled to have this picture taken of her, and she insisted I send it to her after having stored it in my trusty digicam. She’s leaving for New Zealand on the 17th and I think more than anything, I shall miss her laughter. She’s the one person who laughs the laugh that makes me want to laugh. Really, it’s that contagious. To describe her as a ray of sunshine would be an understatement.

Okay, all of us are crazy about our weight. And crazy about photos. No, we are not obese, far from that actually, but we know that the camera adds ten pounds, so we practically fight for the best angles, every time.

The only skinny person among us is Estee, who I deduce, weighs only about 90 pounds. She eats a lot and never gets fat. Some people are just blessed with skyrocketing metabolism, and this girl can’t complain.

We were entering the resto just when we spotted this lovely table for four. Nobody wanted to sit with Estee, because we (Sora, Marshie, and I) knew that we would all look corpulent in comparison. The dialogue went like this:

Me (dashing to the table): Marsh, sit with me, quick!

Sora (literally pulling Marsh by the arm): No, I’m not sitting with Estee! Marsh, puhlease!

Estee (laughing): Ouch, you’re hurting my feelings!

Me: Marsh, sit.

After a while Sora gave up, and we all ended up laughing like drunken hyenas. Then we realized the waiter was standing by the table all along. No, he wasn’t smiling. He actually looked pretty mean. If I wasn’t feeling light-headed after the hyena-laughing, I could have told him to go get a life.

Well, maybe the sight of four twenty-somethings acting like crazy schoolgirls was more than he could take.

Click on the Link! December 11, 2008

Bag Shopping Fashion Tips for Every Working Girl

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With the right kind of bag, any working girl is sure to look both smart and fashionable. This article offers helpful tips in finding the right bags for the right occasions, whether for office conferences or for parties.

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http://www.associatedcontent.com/article/1265442/bag_shopping_fashion_tips_for_every.html

Sleepy and Curious August 13, 2008

It’s past twelve midnight and I’m sleepy. Yet I am kept awake by my thoughts, on things I shouldn’t be thinking about, but are just too monumental to pass up. For the past weeks, I have been in conversations with friends who were stuck deep in the love-shit. Don’t get me wrong, I am crazily in love and I can’t imagine how dreadful life would be without my better half. But I still don’t think that you ought to trade self-respect for the sake of having a particular someone in your life. These women I know, whom I have always deeply respected, were no longer keeping something for themselves. I don’t know if its dependence, or security, or pride. I don’t know if they fear losing the person or fear losing the oh-so-perfect front that they have thrown on and paraded to the world. All I know is that ever since they proclaimed they fell in love, they are no longer the girls, the women, that I have always recognized.

Why should you stay in a relationship when the man you supposedly love throws you out of the house a million times? Why settle with someone who does not allow you freedom? Why do you dedicate your strength in rebuilding something that was meant to break down anyway? Why in the whole damn world would you stay with a man who, for all his education and all his degrees, could not even afford to respect his own woman?

Yes, I’m sleepy and I’m curious. I hope we all wake up and discover that my thoughts were just part of a perfectly orchestrated nightmare, and that these women I am talking about are actually women who know that love is simply one shady piece of an intricate puzzle.

So-called lessons from Sex and the City June 29, 2008

So, I finally saw the movie every fashionista has been raving about. The famed TV series where handbags, stilettos, and froufrou skirts share the same spotlight as its leading actresses. The fiery, unadulterated show of obsession over bejeweled Manolo Blahniks and monogram-crammed Louis Vuittons.

Well, you get the picture. I was not expecting to get blown away, just entertained. The good news is, I got what I wanted — entertainment in the most colorful, glittery, and paltry sense.

Surprisingly, I did get a few half-serious lessons from the movie,and (drum roll…) here they are:

1. For girls, never, never get too carried away when you’re planning your wedding. Otherwise, you’ll risk getting jilted at the altar.

2. When you’re married, and your husband cheats on you, ask yourself, “Are we having enough sex?”

3. 40 is the new 30. Marriage-wise.

4. Never accept a marriage proposal that’s thrown at you casually. The guy may just be half-serious.

5. Love your girlfriends. There’s nothing like great buddies and Saturday night margaritas.

6. Work is not everything. Get a life. Love your Hubby.

7. Sushi is supposed to be eaten by chopsticks or by hand. Not to be scattered over your naked body, while you’re lying on the dinner table. On Valentine’s day.

8. Communicate with your man. Don’t over-assume.

9. It’s perfectly fine to wear high heels at home.

10. Wearing too much color is okay. As long as you can afford Blahniks and Vuittons.

11. Apparently, sticking bird feathers through your wedding veil brings bad luck. Ask Carrie Bradshaw.

12. Don’t force your guy to write love letters. Or poetry. Or personalized wedding vows. It’s too much pressure for him, poor thing.

13. It’s decent to get married in front of a judge. Especially when you’re over forty and the guy has had two before you. Reasonable, too.

14. Go easy on packaged puddings. You might poop in your pants. Ooops…

Well, at least the movie was an eye candy from beginning to end. The dresses were enviable, the bags were fabulous, and the shoes were killer. And oh, it preaches the proverbial lesson that love can come at any age– and that it needs sex and lots of drama for sheer survival.

If there’s something that the movie dwells on other than fashion, its the L thing. L-O-V-E. Bradshaw’s book title. A key chain. A computer password. Love letters from poets of another century. Break-ups and make-ups. Typical chick flick.

Now that I think about it, I still like The Devil Wears Prada much better. Now that’s fashion eye candy with a lot more punch.

Notes on a Sultry February February 7, 2008

These days, I find that I am always contradicting myself. I do not want to get married yet, that is an unconditional fact, but I already have my entire wedding exquisitely planned out in my mind. Some nights I would lie awake in bed thinking if marriage is really a blissful thing – and then I think of the life my mother had with my beloved father, and I am instantly assured that it actually is. However brief it was, and however painful towards the end, I knew that love existed, that love in marriages is not the stuff of fiction. They called each other cheesy names like sweetheart and darling, always had their occasional fights in silence, and had faith built on solid ground. When father died, mother wailed like a child even though she kept telling us she was prepared for anything. It was enough that she tended to him like a baby during his last days, and kept the rest of the family in cheerful spirits when our souls were already splintered to smithereens. But then again it wasn’t enough, theirs was a marriage envied by their friends but in the end one lost the other, and at such an ill-fated time.

They were wed in Cebu, a beautiful church wedding with photos I love to scan over and over again. Mother wore a svelte white gown and carried a chrysanthemum bouquet; Papa wore his signature moustache and eye-disappearing laughter with his formal barong. They were lovely. Even when I was young, I always wanted a beautiful wedding for myself, and these days I am both comforted and bothered by the fact that thoughts on matrimony keep me awake on late nights and early dawns.

Perhaps I fear that weddings may always be beautiful, but marriages aren’t always meant to be that way. My mom had a blissful one, yet it wasn’t very blissful towards the end. I watched her grieve her heart out on the first Valentine’s Day without Papa. Perhaps I fear the possibility of solitude after having dedicated my life to someone I was prepared to grow old with. Besides, marriages can never be too ideal, if it were so lawyers would be losing almost half their income on marriage lawsuits and divorces.

Yet my wedding gown is clearly mapped out in my mind- a simple strapless number, or a Grecian style flowing dress with a plunging neckline meant to show just a decent amount of cleavage. My invitations should have tiny rhinestones pasted on them, and if my mind does not change three years from now, I’ll have midnight blue and champagne yellow as my wedding’s color motif.

For all it’s worth, I do hope to get married someday. I know it’s not going to happen soon, nor do I expect a proposal with rose petals and fancy fireworks. I wish to get married, and to survive the days after the lovely pictures are compiled inside the albums. Love exists, I know, but in guises the human heart oftentimes finds too hard to handle. Marriage is every girl’s dream and it’s something all women deserve.

And if I’m not being selfish, the honeymoon’s definitely going to be where there are blazing sunsets, and kisses under yellow moonlight.

 

Woman Scorned December 20, 2007

Wednesday
I arrived on a cold morning, and he was nowhere near where my bus stopped. He called me later saying he fell asleep after calling me without getting good connection. Stupid mobile network, he said. Then he asked me where I was. Of course I wanted to tell him I’m already in my room, freezing from the early morning chill, and sleepy as a cat. That I wanted a nice cup of coffee and some blueberry jam-and-butter sandwich for breakfast. Instead I told him I was trapped in a landslide in the middle of the mountains. C’mon, really, where? , he replied. Either he was indifferent or I was a lousy liar. So I ended up telling him the truth.

Later in the afternoon he called to say we can’t eat dinner together. The students were to have their Christmas party, and they have an electronics booth to put up. But I was looking forward to dinner, and we haven’t seen each other since Monday, I said. I’ll just bring you dinner okay? , he said. I told him I wanted a lasagna take-out. But he reminded me he will be on a party, and that he can get me some party food for dinner. I okayed, then hung up.

Evening came. He called once to assure me he’d be bringing me dinner at my workplace. We were on a year end rush so everybody was doing overtime. The boss ordered dinner: pork barbecue, steaming rice, and cold Coke. I joined them because I was starving. Then he came with my dinner, packed inside a styro. Stir fried noodles, rice, and fried chicken. He knows I’m allergic to chicken meat. Stir fried bihon noodles are not my thing. Then I realized it was a good thing the boss ordered barbecue, because I didn’t get to mind my clueless guy’s amnesia.

Then he told me he was to leave in a few minutes. The party was just starting, he said. But I thought it’s a students’ party, you don’t have to go. Please stay? , I cajoled. Then he said he’ll just walk me home first, and then he’ll go back to the university. After a goodbye kiss, I walked inside the house.

Later that night, there were no answers to my calls. I sent him a message but received no reply. It was eleven o’clock and I was sleeping when he called and said goodnight. Again I was too sleepy to take mind.

Thursday

He called to say good morning while I was in my bath. At eight, he asked me if I had breakfast; the same old talk. Then silence. His next message was at two in the afternoon, telling me we won’t be traveling home together on Friday. Office Christmas party, he said, changed from the 27th, blah, blah, blah. I felt the steam rising to my ears. And because I loathe it when I’m ignored, especially on occasions more than once, I allowed my fury free reign.

@#$$%^& bastard @#$$%^56767 stupid @#&**(&&(*( idiot!) $%$^*&^*& the nerve! &*((&*&^%&*7*(go to hell%#$@%^%$&&*&…and then I became too tired to even think.

He can’t ignore me just because he brought me expensive slippers last weekend. And my bottled water last night. Just because he ends every phone call with I love yous. Just because his kisses melt my insides. He can’t ignore me just because he left two jobs for me, and because I always tell him he’s my soul mate.

He can’t simply ignore me. Because all this time, all I ever wanted was his hand holding mine.