crosswordbebop

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...

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...

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...

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...

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.

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...

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 ...