it's been a year...

I turn one year today. So sue me, this is going to be a long post, read it or not.

I have been tending to my corner for exactly one year now. Friends, family and strangers have sometimes visited. A couple came back for a bit more. A few never left. I never intended to share my thoughts this way. I was never a person who shared life stories, much less personal views and feelings to people who didn't at least know my middle name and REAL name. I bet you don't know my middle name, huh? Don't worry sweetie, most of my friends don't. It's one of 'em little secrets I keep with no real goal but to add some sense of mystery to an already mysterious life.

Keeping up with this corner has left me breathless at times. There were months when all I wanted to do every waking moment was to write for and re-design my blog. Ironically, there were also times when I didn't know kaput on anything to write. I searched oceans and skies, 'til I even looked into cupboards and old boxes just to find something to write about. Believe me, I spent some sleepless nights trying to work out some topics in my head. It took me quite a moment to realize that unlike my non-ending theses from college, I didn't have to do research for this corner. This is one place where I can write without editing. This is one place where no one will grade me for a write up. This is one place where I can let me be.

So okay, for the last 12 months, I let myself be - and you may have been one of the people who was a witness to that. Have you been lurking by my corner from the time when I considered this my own? Or have you just dropped by now to see if you would want to stay longer? I talk, rant, adore, insult, wonder, and write about my life in this blog. People have dropped in and out, reading bits and pieces every now and then. Quite similarly, that's how I live my life too. People come and go in my life. I have had issues with goodbyes before. I never give anything up. Never giving up is one hell of a job to do. I paid the price, but now I think I've learned my lessons. I never give up these days. STILL. But now, I think I've learned to let go. Difference? You tell me.

In the last 12 months, I have loved, and was loved well. I have wanted to leave, but I ended up getting left. Irony of all ironies, I have also felt more loved than ever, when I was left alone to be by my lonesome.

In the last 12 months, I have learned that people need a reason to stay. Going away is not merely wanting to give up and let go, but also to distance one's self in an effort to understand things from another perspective.

In the last 12 months, I have come to realize that losing a grandparent is something that makes a grandchild feel she's no longer a child. And that she has no one to call her such, because that grandchild is now limited to being a daughter, a sister, a niece, a cousin.

In the last 12 months, I have felt that there is never enough time to spend with family and friends. If there was, I am most certain that I have used up each second. Each millisecond. Each nanosecond.

In the last 12 months, I have managed to appreciate local TV listings simply because I find simple pleasure in watching Bulagaan in Eat Bulaga.

In the last 12 months, I knew that some bosses, no matter how high and mighty, can be a real pain in the ass, and that almost the whole world listens to these highs and mighties no matter how stupid they sound.

In the last 12 months, I have come to accept that no matter how I want my brother to stay with me here in the Metro, and finish in the same alma mater where I have, in the end, he just has to follow his own dreams.

In the last 12 months, I have let myself believe that I could quit smoking at will, but all too soon succumb back to the old habit, just because...

In the last 12 months I have come to accept that I, in fact, do snore (very, very softly). I never heard myself go zzzzz, but yes, I have a feeling I do that.

In the last 12 months, I have finally resigned to myself that even if I enjoy bus rides immensely, there's no way I'd sacrifice my own safety by riding the bus when I go to work. Calling for a cab everyday has been burning a hole in my pocket, but sheesh, my money better go to the cab driver than to hold-uppers.

In the last 12 months, I discovered that much as an alcohol drinker I may be or may have been, I am no match to tequilla. Give me a case of beer. Red horse, even. Give me piñacolada. Gin bilog or gin bulag. Lambanog. Siyoktong. Anything, even the devil's piss. But no tequilla for me please.

In the last 12 months, I have found out that while making out in the parking can be extremely exciting, and yes even kinky (ha!ha!-- don't read this mother!), it is nothing but a prelude to a scandal, or worse, disaster.

In the last 12 months, I have known who my real friends from college were. I was such a figure in college (yeah right!) that for a while, I was jaded on what real friendship meant. I'm still jaded these days, but I guess I'm slowly coping. Those who stuck by me - thank you.

In the last 12 months, I have believed in fate, destiny and plain coincidence, not necessarily in that order. But yes, things have happened sometimes for a reason, sometimes because they just have to, or sometimes even when they don't need to.

In the last 12 months, I have made this one choice. It's a very important choice but one which I can't say yet. Time will tell, you'll see. But yes, I have been the master of my fate. The captain of my soul. Needless to say, you'll know it beforeI tell you.

In the last 12 months, I have dreamed. Conquered some. Needing some. Living some. I have made the most of what I have, but that doesn't stop me from wanting just a tad more, one step at a time. Most dreams are still being woven. Most are in order. Most are to watch out for. No rush, not at all. Hey after all, 12 months is just one year. Next year, come by this corner again. Don't forget to smell the flowers.

A Weekend Bliss

I have just come back from one of my best weekends for the summer. It was a blissful 2 days & 1 night spent with good company with good food in a good place. Laiya, Batangas. Aah, what a bliss. It didn't take too much an effort getting to know new people. It was 2 good days of frolic, fun and laughter. The bus ride going to San Juan was way too slow, I must admit, but with great friends on the way with you, the lazy ass-ed bus could take its lousy time for all I care. As ever, I find bus rides cleansing to my soul. I love cruising by SLEX, for it brings old, well-kept memories to the surface. I remember wild days of driving and racing through those highways while being dead drunk to alcohol and other unpleasant substances. I think of anticipated Sunday afternoons when I looked forward to going back to ELBI and to the friends and home I considered making there. I let the old times consume me, if only for a bit, because my mind with this memory is at its most vulnerable, - and yes, dangerous. Now, I feel my story digressing. ELBI life is for another post. I will write about it again, someday. But for now, yes, Laiya Batangas. We got to the beach after about 3 and something hours. For me, that was just on time because lunch has just been served then, and my stomach was just beginning to rumble. After luncheon was games for everyone who felt like getting wet either by saltwater or sweat. I felt more like playing my guitar. Oh yes, BIBI, my dependable new love came with me on this trip. So ignoring the water and the sun and the sand altogether, I got my songbook out and played to my heart's content. Toni and Marj, some of the guys I work with at the office stayed on either side of me and sang with me thru the afternoon. Time flies when you're having fun. All too soon, it was late afternoon and 'twas time to move to the sleep camp where we're staying for the night. After showering the day's heat off, we went to dinner at the pavillion near the beach and stayed behind for the bikini open. Much hoots, dances, claps, games and songs later, some people went back to their own cabins and retired for the night. Some groups opted to have some drinks by their huts, but majority of Boticelli, my new team, wanted to get a shut-eye. Toni, Marj, Joey and I decided otherwise. We trekked the hundred something meters from our suite to the tree houses in search of groups doing some alcohol bingeing. We happened by OM Tito and TL Eugene's group, where Lance, an old friend hung out too. Songs, dances, jokes, food, beer, tequilla, thoughts and secrets were shared amongsts new and old friends that night. Being bosses and subordinates did not matter. During the night, we talked and walked the intricate line of communication - open, frank, real. By the end of 2 cases of beer and a big bottle of tequilla, everyone had a dose of a good conversation. One by one, people dozed off and walked to their own suites. Everyone went except 5 - Toni, Marj, Joey, Fritz and I. We hung by the pavillion, talking. Good talks. Serious talks. Funny talks. We took a dip in the pool. More talks. Intimate talks. By dawn, we were well ahead of having a very good conversation, that we never noticed we haven't swam at all. We were just standing, or half-sitting, or in Fritz's case, splitting, while we talked. We have been staying in the water, soaking and marinating like nice fishes for almost 3 hours. By sunrise, we went to the beach to watch the skies. The water was calm. Fritz said that saltwater equilibrates and neutralizes the body. It supposedly eases tension. It might have been true, for I felt exactly just that while sitting in the shallow waters. That was a quiet moment. I felt relaxed. I felt easy. I felt at peace. The skies had a story for me that morning. It was as if it was talking to me. I felt awed by the colors. I felt more alive, if anything. I wish I had taken more pictures. But no, I left everything in the cabin for fear of losing or damaging anything if I got too rowdy or too drunk. I never got drunk. Tipsy, yes. Tamang amats, yes. It felt so nice to laugh again. You know the kind of laughter that bubbles from within and then bursts out as a hearty one is the kind of laughter that I have been missing most these last couple of months. I had lots of those in Laiya. Yeah, last weekend was lots of fun. I felt that I have been meeting all these new people for a purpose. I don't know what yet, but you'll see, in time, I will know enough to even write about it. For several days now, I have been anticipating for something. It's as if something real good is about to happen. I feel excited about something but I don't know what. I have been waking up with good thoughts lately. I don't know, maybe a surprise is waiting for me somewhere around the corner. I can't wait. Lemme' leave you with sky pictures that I took while going back home to Manila. Again, I don't know why, but I feel like the skies are about to shower me with good things real soon. I don't even ask why anymore. Maybe I just deserve to be happy - again. Yeah, I know I do.

Happy Birthday Mother

It's my mom's 52nd birthday today. For the longest time while I was growing up, mama and I didn't get along very well. We had an eternal love-hate relationship that trancends the closest of bonds between a mother and child to a crazy, spasmosdic argumentative interactions that only enemies can survive. 27 years after, and still counting, we have finally gotten over that. Whew.
My mom is the best person in my world. She has seen me through the worst. She has defended me even when friends and sadly, even family members judged and scorned me. She has fought for me.
And 27 years ago, she has decided to keep me. For that, I am most grateful.
While my father is the main provider and decision-maker in the family, my mama is the strength and the strong-hold. She holds this family together. She may be perceived as the weakest of us, for she is always the first one to shed tears in altercations but her tears give us strength. Sometime in the past, in one of the most trying times my family has ever had to undergo, when all hell seemed to break loose, she was the one who endured it all. My dad gave up physically and succumbed to a minor stroke. My brother and I gave in to our anger and did not speak for 6 whole months. Connie, uncharacteristically became apathetic to the situation. And Meng spent more time with friends outside than at home. My mama was the one who managed to patch everything up for all of us. She was the one who, amidst the tears in her eyes, gave us the reason to smile every once in a while. She took the effort to make sure that life goes on despite the problems. She had to make sure food was still on the table by 7PM every night. She made sure that the kids still did their homework every night. She made it a point that Connie and I received our allowances on time. She saw to it that papa took his medications seriously. My mama, she took charge. It has been 6 years since. She hasn't stopped taking charge still.
These days, my family has endured and survived, and still surviving. We have gone back to the old status quo. My dad is as healthy as a carabao these days. Mac and I patched up our differences. Meng and Con, of course, only had to see that the family has healed and they have come running home. And mama? She's all smiles these days. She divides her time visiting her kids here in the Metro and working as a nurse as she considers it her stress-reliever. During the weekends, when she has to stay in Ilocos, she lovingly tends to her Euphorbias in the garden and gives papa his weekly pedicure. Every now and then, mama complains of minor aches, headaches, athritis or whatnot, and all of us, papa included, give a half-hearted panic as we secretly believe it's just mama making lambing to us. Mama has turned to be somewhat of a health freak lately and she has been dieting. Ironically, all the family members, including moi, are the fattest these days. As ever, mama never forgets to call and text me to watch my diet. She even monitors my sleeping time because she is afraid that I might get a stroke while asleep. Every month, she sends a box of goodies from the province, including fruits and our favorite recipes that only she could cook. These days, life just doesn't get any better with mama continuing to love us.
So there, its May 15 today, and it has been 52 years since God has given us this wonderful person that I call mama.
For you ma, I wish you a more well, and longer-lived life, a continously good health, and hopefully, your children could make you prouder than you already are of them. Happy Birthday Mother!

i am no virgin!

I have 5 girlfriends at the moment. Among us 5, I am the only one who is technically, a...virgin. So, big deal, right? Whatevs.

One of them is a wife. Another is a pseudo-wife. The third has been a pseudo wife. And the fourth will be a wife. And the fifth? Me. So? Nothing.

It is not that big a deal, really. I have had my own share of naughtiness in my own wicked, wicked ways. But I guess I just haven't found the right person to make suko my Bataan yet. Haha, taena, parang dyologs na pakonyo na bazura yung last line na yun ah! So? Whatever.

I guess I got my line of thought geared to this topic as soon as we were done with our pizza bingeing at Park Square. My girlfriends and I love talking. Food, saliva and lotsa others fly from our dental orifices when we have talks over our lunches but it does not infuriate even the OC-OC moi. Ugh, gross, right? So?

Uh, so anyway, we were talking and the topic of the day was the mole on toot-toot's toot toot. And it turned out that "has been pseudo-wife's" former toot-toot also has a mole on his toot-toot. And sure, they began comparing. And while I left my mouth gaping, I sure hell don't know what they were talking about. (Of course I knew, technically, but...you know what I mean right? ). So there.

Now, I just realize that yes, I am indeed the only one left in the group with that little piece of H still intact. Eww. Eww? Har har, I find myself all smiles now as Im writing this part of this post. I'm stumped. I forget what I was going to say.

I guess for me, virginity is a state of mind. It is a perception. A feeling. Something that is just more than that little piece of hymen located in gawd-knows-where part of me. I mean, sir c'mon, I don't want to get too technical about it, because you know what? I sure don't find any freakin' difference between someone who society considers a virgin, and someone they dont. I guess it's not so much of a big deal for me. So?

Now, here is the catch. If virginity is indeed a state of mind, and my mind, as it is, is the mind of a wanderer who jumps at every oppurtunity to indulge in intellectual masturbation, then I can say I am not a virgin anymore. I have always been on the lookout for intellectual fucks and academic teasing. For all intents and purposes, I can say that my mind has been an intellectual prostitute. And for that, I am no virgin, thank you very much.

So. That's my two-cents piece on the matter. I just thought about this after lunch. And it's a good thought. Sporadic thought. Sporadic post. Yeah, just about the thing to blog about. Thanks for reading about my virginity. And yes, in case you misunderstood, I still have my H intact. Sheesh.