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Showing posts from June, 2011

good morning beautiful world

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Woke up at 5:40 am and found out hubby is already on his way to the office. I can't imagine leaving the house this early for work. I used to many years ago, when we had inventory counts for out-of-town clients. I used to hate waking up early. At home, I grew up being 'allowed' to oversleep because mama got tired of trying to rouse us (my siblings and me). These days though, I've been feeling that my whole day is not enough for all the things I want to do in a day. After work and the long commute, my first priority is to spend bonding time with husband and baby. There's nothing much I can do after because my toddler either demands I play with him until he sleeps, which is quite late, or he plays with my pinkpad. I couldn't do anything without my pinkpad because it contains my books, magazines, notepad, etc. I read somewhere that the best way to make time for your passions such as family, hobbies and interests, is to wake up early. That way, you can give your very

20 questions a woman should ask herself (question no. 1)

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Instead of staring into space or willing the traffic to move, I bring my pinkpad with me on my everyday commute and listen to podcasts or read books or magazines. Today, I read the February 2011 edition of O, The Oprah Magazine which was a free download. I especially liked Martha Beck’s column May We Help You? This month’s topic was all about the 20 essential questions every woman should ask herself. Since I’m currently at a ‘confused’ stage, the article caught my attention. Maybe asking the right questions could help me ‘find’ myself and redirect my life appropriately. Knowing which changes are best for you comes, always, from assessing what you feel. Ask yourself every day. Yours for the Asking question number 1 is: “WHAT QUESTIONS SHOULD I BE ASKING MYSELF? ...Without this question, you wouldn’t ask any others, so it gets top billing. It creates an alert, thoughtful mind state, ideal for ferreting out the information you most need in every situation. Ask it frequently." I know

a bit scary experience

Scared myself big time yesterday for almost blacking out while inside the Metro Rail Transit (MRT). I had a bad case of stomach cramps then felt nauseous. My vision became blurry. I was thinking of telling the ladies near me that I was about to faint but I felt I could not trust anybody at that moment, especially because I had pinkpad with me. Haha! The thought of losing consciousness in the company of strangers was not comforting. Good thing I had a piece of chocolate in my bag. I had fainted a number of times when I was pregnant so somehow the feeling was not new to me. Still, it was a bizarre scary experience. I took a quick bite of the chocolate and prayed so heartily that I will not lost consciousness. I did not black out totally but was fast losing it so I decided to call my hubby on the phone. I felt I was being pulled out of consciousness but I tried hard to reach out to hubby. I was also thinking of the best way to deal with my predicament. Good thing the MRT stopped at Shaw S

the promise a cloud holds

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I wrote this 'short story' some time in high school. The Promise A Cloud Holds 1998 Intense heat radiated from the sun yet I felt a spine-chilling breeze envelop my whole being. Today's the 3rd day of the last week of March. Periodical tests were finally over so here I am sitting on a bench under the mahogany tree with mind and body set on some relaxation and idling. Absent-mindedly, I riveted my gaze to the skies up above. My sight lingered there for a moment until it focused on a lone cloud. I was hypnotized by its simple charm and before I knew it, memories of a sweet voice barged in. It was of someone I've spent almost all of my time with two long years ago. It was your voice. "I wish I were a cloud!" was your favorite statement and whenever I gave my negation, you add jokingly, "Don't you want it? I could watch over you." You used to walk me home and we spent some time on top of a hill we claimed our own. Under the sky ablaze with bright ora

the young 'poet' in me

While visiting home briefly for the wake of a dear aunt, I decided to dig up my old journal which contained poems and short stories I conjured in my high school years. I also have one bound collection of my own 'masterpieces' aptly titled 'Thoughts and Memories'. I believe I was a better writer when I was in my teens than I am now. Browsing through my journal, I read a mixture of poignancy and happiness. Here's a sample: Wanderer Flowers smiling in the twilight Brings me pain more intense than night Blissfulness is a strange word to me, I'm as melancholic as could be. Laughter, where can I find you? You left me forever blue. A lonely cloud drifted by the breeze - The rain to pour is my only wish. I must have been good with words then and such a drama queen. I can't imagine myself putting together a poem nowadays.

i am a drama queen (a repost)

For a person like me who has this constant need to reinvent and improve* herself, writing is therapeutic and sharing my thoughts to those who care to read is relieving. I’ve been gone for a while. Way back, I felt a need to keep my thoughts to myself. I was hurting then and seeing my deepest emotions and bitterness translated into words didn’t help. I didn’t want to expose my broken heart for all the world to see when I was in denial myself. Between then and now, a lot of things has transpired. God heeded my prayers. I made big decisions and leaps of faith. I quit my first job, fell in love, moved to Ireland, been to Paris. I bought my Imac, met new friends, got lectured by my South African partner, been to the pub (trying to ignore persistent irishmen - i’m not into foreigners), broke up and got together with my boyfriend, tendered my resignation. All of these in the span of one adventurous and refreshing year. Can’t say life is dull at all. I feel like i’m Alice in wonderland. I’m in

the roller coaster ride called life

I have come a long way. There was a time (seems like a hundred years ago) when I wanted to ask God to stop the ride and let me get off. I fervently wished I would drop dead to end my misery. I’m glad I didn’t. I’m truly grateful that I held on and let the bad phase pass. When I look back, I could see clearly that whatever burden I was carrying then was so petty I should be ashamed for almost giving up. But I was barely a teenager at that time and my idea of what is important was limited. I can’t say that I have truly grown or matured but in a way, I believe that I have gained wisdom through the years. I have not been through catastrophic situations that are ‘Maalala Mo Kaya’ material but I have experienced enough pain and I have scars to show for them. I also know that I have the tendency to be melancholic and make things look a little more dramatic than they truly are. That is the way I cope with life. Anyway, I don’t mean to present a lonely mood in this blog. I just wanted to share

The Journey by Mary Oliver

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As a child, I loved reading and attempting to write poems. Haven't read one in a while until I picked up the February 2011 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine. Here's one great poem by Mary Oliver.

scrap not

Hubby and I are fond of reading magazines and through the 2 years we've been married, we've accumulated a lot, not to count those mags we have brought into the marriage. I'm still thinking of the best way to get rid of the back issues. I would need hubby's approval for that. If it were 10 years ago, i would have happily cutoff the pretty images in the magazines and put them together in a scrapblog. But since that is no longer the rage, i've decided to create a scrap-not blog instead which will serve as a repository of the bits and pieces i've picked up from the magazines (and maybe from books and other sources as well) which i feel are interesting and noteworthy to go back to in the days to come. I also plan to indulge my artistic side and try to put together beautiful images and interesting quotes or bylines. Hopefully i can sustain this site and not give in to my ningas cogon. To future reference and more!

an embarrassing confession

I used to join beauty contests. Please don't laugh. I did! Yes I had guts, back in the days when shame and pressure of societal expectations were not yet part of my vocabulary, when fear of disappointment and failure were still strangers to me. What a fun opportunity it would be to be a kid again! During family gatherings, i would volunteer to sing or declaim or dance. I had no shame even though i could not carry a tune. I was blissfully unaware of my lack of talent back then. My relatives adored me for my bravado, or maybe made fun of me? I'm not sure really. I grew up to be a confident child, what with all those practice and the applause and praises of my family. And then the most embarrassing moment in my life happened - I peed in front of the class! After that unfortunate incident, i was depressed for a while. I would stay awake staring at the ceiling, shedding silent tears, hoping for answers why such an embarrassing experience happened to me. To my young mind, that was th

daydreaming of the beach on a rainy day

I love the sun, sand and sea and how those elements fuel my imagination. My fondest memories of summer are those spent in a beach in La Union with relatives. A few grade school summers were spent frolicking under the sun, almost drowning from the huge waves, and running freely barefoot in the sand. I love those carefree times! Sometimes, i wish i were a child again, picking sea shells by the seashore, unmindful of the time or the sun burning my already bronze skin, and dreaming, dreaming of the good things to come. The beach is still my dream destination. I can't swim but i love sitting on the sand, reading a good book or hanging out quietly with a loved-one, lulled with serenity by the rhythm of the waves and disposed to quiet reflection. Sunsets are the most amazing thing! Looking at their splendor makes one realize that there really is a powerful God who made things so beautiful and wonderful. One my dreams is to go on a vacation in a pristine beach with my hubby and son. I imag

my money mishaps

I was never good with money. I remember when i was a kid, a then-childless aunt would occasionally borrow me. I would sleep over and we’d say the rosary before we go to bed. I knew the rosary by heart then and my auntie would let me lead as we pray for her special intentions. The best part of being with my auntie was the upgrade in my baon. She used to give me P50, which is more than twice the baon i normally got from my parents. The first time that happened, I felt I won a major prize and went on a spending spree on food, mostly ice cream and soft drinks. The rest of the day, I felt rich and powerful and every now and then bought candy and snacks. I had a smirk on my face I couldn’t erase! On the way to the tricycle stand after school, I reached into my pocket for my P1.00 fare but alas! I had nothing in my pocket. Not a centavo. Nothing! Nada! How could that have happened? I started the day rich and then suddenly I was penniless? I felt like crying. I almost did. How the hell was I t

true color

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I love my hubby and his passionate mind, especially his appetite for learning and sharing. Just this morning he tweeted the link on how to find one's passion by zen habits, as a friend and i were discussing about finding our life's passion. Last week, I've been intrigued by the November 2010 issue of O, The Oprah Magazine which had the same theme - "What's your true calling?". Earlier tonight, i started reading "Career Match: Connecting Who You Are With What You'll Love To Do" by Shoya Zichy and Ann Bidou. The purpose of the book is to foster understanding and accepting the dynamics of our own GENUINE style - its unique strengths and weaknesses. It promulgates that it is possible to be the right person doing the right thing in the right place and enjoying it for those who are true to themselves in spite of naysayers, parental expectations and societal pressures. I've finished answering the Color Q Personality Style Self-assessment, a 10-minut

Save our seas!

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ipad thoughts from an average juan (juanita?)

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I'm loving my ipad and i am not predisposed to share it even with hubby and baby. In the first place, i bought it because i never got to use my itouch exclusively. Our toddler claimed it for his own. I fondly call my ipad pinkpad because the smart cover and its alternate cover are both pink. Genius! I use my pinkpad for social networking (aka facebook and twitter), surfing the net, blogging, reading books and magazines, writing notes and random thoughts, organizing my workdays and personal schedule, recording meetings, listing my to-do list, shopping list, menu for the week and drafting an attempt to write a novel. It has become my new best friend. I would love it more if i can watch or rent movies via the Philippine app store. Reminds me to ask hubby regarding that. I'm not a techy, my hubby is, so i don't know anything about the technical specifications of the ipad. He is also more in the know when it comes to best apps, updates, etc. That's why on the rare occasions

gratitude for life's little surprises

Count your blessings My Friday ends on a high note with an unexpected reward for hard work! Life is full of surprises indeed. Positivity I got disheartened for not winning the P356m grand lotto of PCSO. Some very lucky individual did. But as they say, there are more than enough blessings to go around and i did receive my share during the week to add sparkle to my charmed life. Be thankful for the little things To start off, hubby is finally home last sunday after being away for two weeks and of course, as a bonus, i got some pretty nice pasalubong. This alone started the week right. Working from home on Mondays means respite from the hassles of the long commute to work, at least for a day, and extra time to bond with my son. Then there's Johnny Depp in Pirates of the Carribean sequel, who made me laugh hard during a reunion-date-night with hubby. I had a good time watching the movie. Don't take my word for it though as i am easily pleased and not a good critic. Best things in l

the hazards of me cooking

I am nursing a wounded thumb. Somehow i cut my finger instead of the meat i was slicing yesterday. Now it is swollen and hurts when i move it. Ouch! It seems cooking is hazardous to my health, as it always has been. I remember in my early teens, i was cooking sweetened saba when i accidentally dropped the spatula. It landed on my right leg, red hot sugar sticking to my skin. I didn't know first aid and no adult was in the house. I tried to counter the pain with running water but the damage was done and i was scarred. Up to this day, i sport that half-an-inch scar on my leg. No sebo de macho or contractubex was able to erase it although it has faded a bit with time. Through the years, i got more burns and wounds from cooking. Some scars have faded, leaving no trace. Others, it seems are here to stay. And since i cook more regularly now, i expect to have more mishaps every now and then. I guess that's just the way it is with clumsy me. Sometimes, the hazards of cooking is worth t