Love is

Her love for him is so powerful it scares her. Being that close to someone, having that intense feeling during a tight embrace after a separation, the smiles that won't go away while they tell each other what their day has been like, all these mean each day risking rejection, suffering and loss. In her heart she didn't know if she was ready to get scarred again. Then it came to her one night; when uncertainty stared at her face and this time she was brave enough to look right back, she nodded in agreement. She closed her eyes and jumped into the cold, plunging into a ride where everything is exposed, everything is at risk. The winner in this race is the one who dares, and she does just that.

"Love is an end in itself..it can not betray because it has nothing to do with possession. It can not be held prisoner because it is a river and will overflow its banks. Anyone who tries to imprison love will cut off the spring that feeds it, and the trapped water will grow stagnant and rank. The all-devouring flame will always burn everything.

What is love? No definitions. Love and don't ask too many questions. Just love."

- The Witch of Portobello

I want a Starbucks 2008 planner

I want a Starbucks planner.

I like touching good quality paper, running my hands on the smooth, crisp paper. I think it was the Griffin and Sabine book that made me want it, and I have been collecting the Starbucks planner since it first came out, but started missing last year, when I think I wised up and cut down on coffee (I now brew my own blend remember?). But when I saw this year's simple elegant leather cover and green-striped strap bind, I was drooling.
My stickers won't be enough by Jan. 15 to complete the program. And now I want something that with high probability, I won't be getting. Unless..

Anyone?
Someone?

Useless Numbers, Interesting Stories

Working for a convenience store has always elicited interesting questions from friends, family, and new acquaintances. Some of the most popular ones:

1. Saang branch ka nagta-trabaho? (Which branch are you assigned to?) Depending on my mood, I concoct different answers. " Sa Altura, kasi malapit kami dun.." "Store manager ako ng Boni branch.." It's always as interesting to watch their tentative faces as it is to create a spontaneous, quick reply, pulled out of a hat, like I've done this trick many times before.


2. Bakit may padlock pa kayo kung 24 hours na bukas? ( Why do your stores have padlocks if you say you're open 24 hours?) My answer is truly an only in the Philippines one: "Para pag may coup d'etat,o rally, safe ang store personnel.."

An interesting question cropped up today. Saang store pinakamabenta ang condom, some relative of an officemate asked. We had our hypotheses: I said in the Malate area where there are a lot of hotels and tourists, or maybe the one in P.Burgos in Makati. Xtin said the ones near the motels in Pasig, so most likely RFM along Pioneer. Alex said maybe the call center areas, because they are young, stressed and what better way to relieve stress?

We checked our POS (point of sale) data and it was surprising: 3 stores in Cubao, the ones near the many bars and beerhouses, top the list. We sell over 200 pieces of condom a month for each store.

"Ah...yung mga taga call centers kasi magaling sa withdrawal."
To which this was the reply: " So, mga taga Cubao ang pinakamal_b_g.."

Ha-ha-ha. That sums up our lunchtime conversation today.
Alex, Xtn and I are wired of the same generation, make and brand of humor.

So How Did Your 2007 Go?

So how did your 2007 go?

I am tempted to say it was a lousy year for me, highlighted by frustrations, a broken heart, huge expenses and failing at a personal fitness program. On the other hand, 2007 was a most challenging year, bigger and the most exploratory. I've sunk through the depths of despair (and triumphed), traveled across the other side of the world (what a discovery), taunted my religion (went back), pushed my physicality (I can if I really want to)and explored my inner self (the joy of writing, history, creativity), in the end, coming full circle to where I was, and yet the circumference has changed. I am different, playing in a different field, ready for more.

I didn't know if I liked much of 2007, ok I think it was the best of times, and the worst of times, but I have no regrets. What the past year has taught me is that one can crash and burn, but there is always a chance to start over. Always.

Happy New Everything!

My Little Amelie

One of my favorite movies is Amelie; With Audrey Tatou's doe eyes, baby China haircut, a Parisian setting and its dry, wry humour, it is enough reason for me to want to watch this over and over again. I don't know why flawed European characters appeal to me but they do. At this time of the year, as I am about to finish wrapping and buying gifts for my numerous inaanak, cousins, family and friends, I truly miss my nephew Miguel and my little Amelie, Ysa. They would have loved Christmas here in Manila. I would have taken them to Apolinario Street, in the brightly kit and well-decorated shopping malls and Tito L would have taken wonderful photos of them, which I would blow up and have 'em framed.

Now Ysa is able to communicate fluently. She is polite even to insects, whom she would advise, " Excuse me bumblebee, I am watching TV. Go fly!" , and demands the same level of courtesy I and her mother do, shouting, "Quiet!!" or "Lights out!" when she wants to go to sleep and there is noise or light around her. I think these traits are genetic. Tsk Tsk.

Miguel has started schooling and apparently, is now able to draw. This is his rendition of a family picture. He has captured Ysa's hair, and his spiky do is there, too. Ahhh. They're so cute it gives me a tingly sensation and my heart does a little dance.

Coffee Time

Someone texted me today ," I don't see anything wrong if two old friends meet over coffee do you?"
Except it was spelled shortcut:friends becoming frens, meet is mit, see is c.

" Ah, dats y. u r currently comited n torn. Wel, i dont c anything wrong f 2 old frens mit over cofi..do u?"

I think I may be old school but my generation, my friends simply refuse to sacrifice spelling over convenience. Although it may actually be not that convenient. Try deciphering the letters that seem to resemble a word, try and find out what it actually means. Sometimes I get it, sometimes I have to ask.

Friend: "Libre q. Let's play then libre q."
Me: What does this mean? Libre ko, or libre ka? So I ask, "What do you mean I'll treat you or you'll treat me?"
Friend:"Libre q na nga. Kasi birthday mo..."
Me: " So I'll treat you?"
Friend: " No, libre q, kasi nga birthday mo."
Me: "Ahhh..libre mo!"
Friend: "Oo, libre q."

There is a voice inside me that tells me,"You can not go out with someone who texts like that."

My Starbucks Version of Heaven

'Tis the season to be merry, the season of cheers and holly, and... the year-ender review. I look back at the year that has gone by so swiftly; sometimes it seems the year is getting shorter, but that can't be. The day still starts in the morning, the night ends at 12, and there are still 365 of those days. Yet here I am, again just a bit older.

What has the universe taught me this year? What have I given back that allowed me to move forward? Have I? Was I grateful or wasteful? Generous or self-serving? What lessons did I learn? Here are some of my lessons learned in 2007.

Be free. I will pursue my dreams, set my goals and will be driven to achieve them. The universe has its resources available for me. I really do believe in dreams, especially that each individual has a right to be the best he/she can be. This year, when I finally took the courses I wanted, I felt more alive. I had a history and art class, I was really into active sports. I had a very productive, creative and indeed joyful writing class, when years ago, I was just laying on my bed, unable to move on Saturdays, thinking of all the things I wanted to do.

Conversely, I can not force anyone, most of all, the people whom I love dearly, to do things just because I want them to. They have a right to their own happiness, and accepting that is understanding a person's fundamental right to choose. This results to tragedy because in the end, when we choose to ignore other people's right to happiness, and continue to hear nothing other than the sound of our own voice, we will hurt the people whom we love the most, in effect, cutting ourselves deep in pain and sorrow.

To love yourself is to know yourself. To love God is to show an earnest desire to explore our best selves, in order to give back. We can not succeed if we are not authentic. All our colors and shades make us who we are. As long as I desire to persevere and be passionate in my world, I will inspire, and I will succeed. God is pleased when He sees me try. Yes, that's what makes our kind the chosen ones to inherit the world.

To be truly happy, one must be soft and hard, strong and weak. Embrace the wind that whispers something in the ears, take the punches that life throws, be grateful for the lessons that the roads lead to. There must be grace in acceptance, courage to go on in spite the battle-weary heart, body or mind, and yes, hope, that flickering light that may lead to a spark, the spark that will burn doubts to the ground and lead to chasing rainbows, until finally I find myself sipping coffee and smelling yellow carnations, surrounded by soft cushions and jazz music (my Starbucks version of heaven).

Time is an intangible wealth. I can not possess it, and all I can do is to be fully present. Time is my gift to you. When I choose to be with you, you have all of me, and though it is hard to be fully engaged with all the worldly distractions, you deserve it, because I chose to be with you.

Life is best lived with the people around us, surrounding ourselves with love of friends, family, our community, the people who form, formally or informally, our support group. Let us be grateful for the lessons we learn from their lives, the moments they made us laugh,live, love,eat. They make living worthwhile.

To move forward, I must ask what lessons have I learned? Why am I here again? What should I do? How can I be better? I want to do better.

To grow, I will listen to people, hear their stories, listen to their music, read their books, listen, really listen when they speak, and bite my lips, so my spirit can understand, and my heart can remember. There are some real superhumans who can taste words, see colors when they hear music, and draw with blind eyes. My heart can see, when when my mind is open and I choose to feel. I see a vision from music, get pictures and all sorts of feelings from words. With words or music, I am transported somewhere, elsewhere, at a different time, in a different season.

'Tis the season to be merry, the season of cheers and holly. Tonight, it is winter but it is not cold.

Amen

"All lovers, of any sex, are alerted that love, besides being a blessing, is also something extremely dangerous, unpredictable and capable of causing serious damage. Consequently, anyone planning to love should be aware that they are exposing their body and soul to various types of wounds, and that they shall not be able to blame their partner at any moment, since the risk is the same for both."

"Those wounded in love, unlike those wounded in armed conflict, are neither victims nor torturers. They chose something that is part of life, and so they have to accept both the agony and the ecstasy of their choice.

And those who have never been wounded in love will never be able to say: “I have lived”. Because they haven’t."

Paolo Coelho, Convention of Those Wounded in Love

But I'm All Grown Up Now

So i should have been an artist, journalist or actress. All but the latter i knew before i took up engineering because i had the arts inclination, exhibited passion and i certainly had the temperament. I get impatient when the picture is wholly formed in my mind and the others can't see it, and i have to explain. It's like trying to explain a joke, though whereas the act of explaining a joke makes it lose its humour, explaining an end result, what i want accomplished and how it should be done, often just irritates me. It took me years of experience to be better at this, but often I rely on forming a relationship of trust with the team first before they can understand me. My bark is worse than my bite, and now they love me, or at least, love me more than hate me. But imagine if i were an artist, and i'd have to explain why i painted the sun blue or why i chose genre or portrait,over abstract. I reckon i'd get "mad" during the whole process, but then again, i remember how it felt when i used to sketch and draw. When i was in accelerated class during elementary, i used to sketch and i did decent drawings, filling sketch pads of still life, birds and landscapes. I gave away these sketches to dear friends, and now i don't have a single copy. It made me feel relaxed, happy, challenged, but fulfilled after each work. Anyway, as Cielo so aptly captured it, BUT IM ALL GROWN UP NOW, and chose a different path. I could have been a journalist, but i knew I wasn't good enough, certainly not a Palanca awardee material. An actress, maybe I can act (yes, at shoots i do well in memorizing lines and display just the right emotion), but alas, i didnt have the illusion i was bound to be one, certainly not in my destiny. So, gasp, did that mean i chose engineering and chose a life of mediocrity? After all, if i wanted to become a real engineer, i would have chosen the more elite ECE rather than the more management-focused industrial engineering. In fact, the main reason i chose engineering is so i can easily get a job. I figured since i didn't have a famous surname, and my writing is at best sophomoric, what field would have an even playing field? The sciences and math courses would certainly be, as cerebral these courses are. I also felt I can always attempt to write.

Now I question this path: should we, in fact, choose our strengths in pursuing a lifetime career? It sounds simple enough. The better we are at something, the easier it would be to develop our skils, and the faster we gain competency. The more competent we are, the more confident we get, and the less it gets to feel like a job. The more we have fun, the more interest we show in furthering our skills, the less stress we get.

The other tenet is this: Did I dare to be? Did I take enough risk, pursuing my heart's desire?

What if both answers tell us we didn't dare enough?
I should be an artist.
But i'm all grown up now.
Doo shoo ka na? (what then?)

- i create art in my own way. By designing products out of our minds, developing the concept from birth to launch, from raw material to packaging to merchandising materials, the logo, the overall look, all that is art. It takes a vision, a picture in mind, a feel, a taste, a sensory experience to translate that to an actual product and let it fight it out in the market. My industry is the fiercest there is! The customers either buy the product or they don't.
-i get to write business writeups, correspondence, business plans, presentation materials,sales pitch, creative talks on ideation, product planning, researching using local and foreign market travel exposure, as well as sifting through pictures from current trends or marketing breakthroughs. As a distraction, I blog to refresh my right brain and release stress.
-i have my own way. I am told to think outside the box.
-i control my own pace.

eventhough, on hindisght i feel i should have pursued a career based on my strongest interests and should have given myself no limitation or restrictions,i do not regret the accidental path i had. Fate has, in fact, chosen me and has played the biggest role in my choices and where i am at today. I could have been a quality management auditor, an it person (i tried many times but doors would open and then a better one led me to marketing).
Now i'm thinking I would have liked being a web developer (understanding both the technical aspect and content /design management), as well as becoming my own boss, of an internet-based company, offering my own products online, or a service as a mystery shopper of lifestyle products and services. Yep, that would be my dream job, where i will be happily clicking away at my laptop, writing, processing orders out of my own home office, my creativity the only limit to infinite success.

In the meantime, what really frustrates me is when my creativity is curtailed, a superior at one time ordering me not to innovate, or some HR officer asking my opinion about wearing an office uniform (hello, i don't work for a bank wearing a really dull-colored skirt and matching blouse that i have to pay for with my own salary;we're also not a japanese company to be wearing shirt jacks).

I sent this questionnaire to my boss who sent me back his results: he's better off as a mechanic, a colleague can pass as a "subtle" politician, another colleague is better off as a doctor. We all agree the personalities match the results. So when i feel a need for drama, maybe i can use that line now,"but I'm an artist!"

What I'm Up to

You Should Be an Artist

You are incredibly creative, spontaneous, and unique. No one can guess what you're going to do next, but it's usually something amazing. You can't deal with routine, rules, or structure. You're easily bored. As long as you are able to innovate and break the rules, you are extremely successful. You do best when you: - Can work by yourself - Can express your personality in your work You would also be a good journalist or actor.

What Should You Be When You Grow Up?

Kiddie Birthday Parties

4-day Work Week

I don't know if it's age or just the season, the weather, the rain, but whatever it is, every Monday is dreadful. The weekend would pass so swiftly, I haven't had enough sun, or wind on my hair; there are errands to run and people to see, and before you know it, the weekend is over, and I would start counting the hours before I wake up to a Monday morning, stressed by the alarm clock and disoriented from sleep. Tuesday morning is no different, as I wake up later than usual and scurry faster than yesterday. Tuesday, and I start counting the days before it's Friday, when it's a holiday.

A simple joy, a 4-day work week. Except I was in bed Monday and Tuesday recuperating from a flu. I am still looking forward to Friday. Actually, I am looking forward to Thursday when it will almost be a Friday.

Wala Lang

I wake up at 8, buzzed by an alarm clock;wistfully I procrastinate, hoping to put time off, but it can not be stopped. My mind wrestles with each minute, until I realize I have no power over it, and the longer I stay in bed, the faster I have to rush. My goal as of late is no longer to rush, to prevent unnecessary stress. So I finally pull myself up by 8:30 or 9, shower, dress up, retouch my face (uneven skin tone, alas, genetics is not on my side), rouge it up with warm brown tones and add a dash of Burt's Bees mint lip balm. I am done in 30 minutes, and a drive to the office takes 15 minutes, tops. Once I get there I'm swept away, eaten by time, engulfed by a tornado in a frenetic swoosh, rushing off from one meeting to the next, leaving nothing on my desk but a mere sign of temporary inhabitance. Other days it's a razzle dazzle day, where I actually get to use my magical right brain, and say what I want to say. My left brain, the cerebral part, is dragged along, the algorithms and permutations buried underneath the grey matter, the 5 years of engineering subjects, the experience gained from countless oral mathematical exercises swept under the rug, like my operations research textbook, lost in transit. Even for simple additions I now find myself using the calculator, refusing to trigger my brain-I actually wrack it just for the tasks I want, I now realize.

Disconnected

Today I felt guilty about being disconnected with the Philippine society. I RSS Howie Severino and Carlos Celdran's blogposts, also that of Manolo Quezon III, and these are my fill of the news. It is less interruptive, I get it on demand, whenever I want, because these posts talk about our republic state of chaos, politics, pollution and poverty. Carlos Celdran's tours, uplifting the image of Manila and educating local and foreign tourists, sometimes run commentaries that will momentarily jar me from my state of bliss; yesterday I read about his write-up on the suicide of the 11-year old girl because of her poverty, and Carlos is indignant- how dare the bishops blame the entire country for this when the problem of poverty for so many can be minimized with the use of birth control methods.

Today I read Howie Severino's post capturing the silent protest of some Filipinos in Baywalk, backtracked on the death of Rene Saguisag's wife due to reckless driving by trucks in Osmena Highway, and the pro-bono work of Howie's "mother earth's lawyer"-wife, Ipat Luna. She is a lawyer from UP, like my good friend DEP (who's celebrating her birthday today), but unlike many of us, Howie's wife chose to lead an earth-friendly, lake-conserving life, garnering many awards for her work in Taal Lake, and other similar conservation efforts.

I skimmed 3 blogposts: Silent Protest ("sawang-sawa na kami sa gulo sa Pilipinas", so protesters held hands, stretched like the columns of the bay, facing the sunset at Roxas Blvd, saying nothing), Ipat Luna's conservation efforts (preserving forests, lakes, parks), and Dulce Saguisag's death by a reckless truck driver. Howie ends his column about the senseless death of Dulce Saguisag with these lines: "A measure of a government's competence and legitimacy is its ability to protect its citizens. Rather than a Strong Republic, what we have is a failed state. "

How did this statement make me feel? Guilty, as I mentioned, because I am so disconnected with the news that didn't even hear about the bombing at the Sandiganbayan until yesterday (a full day after it happened). (I actually stopped watching the news a year ago). Then it made me think, why did I feel the guilt? This momentary guilt was instantly replaced by anger and indignation. And then I remembered why I chose a life of bliss instead of choosing to dwell on our sorry state of a nation:

1. I chose to stay in this country, even if I have the chance to work and live a better life in another country. It was a conscious decision; I am not proactively applying for a Canada immigration, or chasing an American dream. I chose to live in my home, my country. This is as Filipino as Filipino can get.

2. I am fully immersed in my work, which is also my mission in life: to improve the skills of my people, and increase sales to help our company have more stores, provide more jobs, creating a robust retail industry and contributing to a healthy economy.

3. I am aware that this nation needs discipline; our people can't even drive properly, and they are out there on the streets, with license paid for with cheated exams, driving recklessly, paying corrupt policemen, paying corrupt government agencies or municipalities who ask for money to approve permits and pass regulations; we have fake diplomas, our tourist guides in Pagsanjan Falls regale tourists with their "hindi pa nga ako kumakain, mahirap magsagwan" tales, soliciting more money because of a fixed DOT rate, turning an otherwise uneventful ride of the rapids into a woeful experience, our sidewalk vendors selling crabs pour water over them to make their product weigh more, and so on. I haven't even started about politics, the backstabbing, the funds from school children's chairs and school buildings which have already been spent with the kids crammed in gyms and under the trees. It is as old as a tale, as foul as the stench of the Pasig river. So where is the hope? Why am I here?

It is my home. This is where my family, my friends are. This is where I built and continue to rebuild my dreams. Life can be better. If we finish our schooling, get a job, work hard, excel at our job, we can still get the opportunities. If we think hard enough, and work hard enough, we can own a business, have a home. If we do not aim for material wealth that will buy us a house in Ayala Alabang, or a conglomerate, we can realize our simple dreams. Why am I here? Because I realize I have simple dreams, and my happiness is simple. But I still have goals, and this environment allows me to reach for my goals, challenging myself to aim better. Do I have money problems, sure, but do I believe I can work towards improving my current state? Oh yes. Definitely.

4. While I'm here I realize that in order to thrive, I need to lessen the noise, and focus my energies on doing something that will actually result to something, in order to motivate myself to do better, more.

Disconnected? Not entirely. I remember how I felt when Erap was pardoned swiftly, barely a month after his indictment. We cheered at his indictment;we were at the airport, and we were thinking- there is justice after all, there is hope for our country, after all. And then that chesire cat smile of GMA, granting Erap presidential pardon so quickly. I remember how I wanted a sticker of Erap's face stuck on my toilet bowl, so I can flush him every time I "dropped off some friends at the pool."

Moot and Soot

Let me share with you one of my stupidest moments. It was only recently, this year, when I started using aromatherapy oils for my home. I was instantly addicted when I tried Body Shop's green tea home oil fragrance. In Singapore, L's roomie was into this Bel Air Paris networking thing, and I remember the whiff of the green tea scent, which really made my sleep a lot less anxious than in its normal nature. I loved it. It was no surprise then that green tea would be the best selling scent of The Body Shop, too, given its relaxing effect, thus fulfilling the need of consumers who wanted a relaxing scent at home.
So there I was, enjoying the scent, pouring in more than 8 drops each time on my aromatherapy set from Cagayan de Oro, and my room would be a haven, a real sanctuary for those who seek peace, silence and comfort. I was using it so frequently that my tea light candles, a set of 12 ran out fast. Tempted to use some generic white candles, free samples from the office, I didn't mind that the wax would spill over the floor. They could spill, but I could always crack it from under and not leave a mark on the floor. So I did. Days passed, I was ok except for the cleaning up of the soot which would gather thickly on the surface of the aromatherapy set and my fingers would get dirty. Sometimes the black substance would stick to the floor and I can only remove it with Ariel.
One time, thinking about this inconvenience, I put tissue paper below the aromatherapy set. I didn't want my floor dirtied! And moreover, I didn't want to clean the floor with soot! I totally forgot about the wax spillover. When only the wick was left standing, L told me what did I do, why was there tissue paper on the floor? Afraid of being thought of as stupid, I proceeded to blow off the flame. Lo and behold, the flame from the candle spilled over the tissue paper, and guess what happens to paper when touched by flame? Fire!
I still wasn't about to be thought of as stupid, I used the water on the aromatherapy set to quench the fire. Of course I forgot that the water has the oil drops from the home fragrance. So boom. How does one add fuel to the fire? Add oil!

Can you imagine how big the flame got? I can't tell you how stupid I felt or how my knees felt weak, thinking about the fire, my furniture, my floor. All of these in less than sixty seconds. Good thing, my tempo is quick even if my mind was a little dull, I had enough sense to get my fire extinguisher, which has not been used before, and L had enough alertness to know how to use it. It was over. My floor was dusty from the powder, my couch safe from damage, a little soot and wax on my floor, but my stupidity was unbelievable.

I ended up cleaning more soot than ever before.

Oh, and my aromatherapy set? It's happily ensconced in its new home, the restroom with poutpourri. It's going to take time before I have the courage to bring it into the room again. Maybe when I have enough common sense.

Weekend Drifter

In a galaxy far far away, I was clueless and once, went out on a date watching an Air Supply concert. Looking back, I don't know what's worse

a. that I actually went to an Air Supply concert
b. that I went out with a guy who listens to Air Supply
c. that my date had his uncle drive us to Ultra
d. that I didn't know it was a date.

Like I said, it was in a different lifetime, in a galaxy far, far away. Worst things can happen.

The point is, these are the thoughts of a weekend drifter.

***

I graduated last Saturday with my Joy of Writing classmates- a doctor who's a member of the Medical Board, an advertising guy who wrote the lyrics for the Dawn's hit song Salamat (plus other hit commercials), a teacher, an ex-theatre and TV personality, an 18-year old boy, and a 24-year old writer for the Manila Standard. The long wooden table which was where our journey began became the sole witness to this passage of rite.


Tweetums brought out her ceramic bowls and we had chips with almond and jalapeno, feta cheese and dips, cheese and cold cut platter with grapes, and wine (red and white). We read our graduation piece over low lights, and with this feast upon our table. There were family secrets revealed, there were tears, quavering voices, and insights. There was the usual pagtitimpi from Twee from our 18-year old buy, and the argumentative doctor; there were sharing of stories, and tsismis about Twee's inclusion in the 7 Showbiz Secrets circulating on email (she tells us that mostly it's true), and reveals more about her men and her life. There was laughter, there was sharing, there was communion.

This class, it is not just about writing. It is a revelation of our true selves, naked for each one of us to see. It is coming to terms with who we are, with some of us forced to come face to face with our past only now. The men in particular, were so moved by the writing since they chose to forget, to close the book, to not talk about their past. Bonnie, was visibly moved by my writing, and the feeling is mutual. They clapped at my writing, and Twee tells them it is a beautiful piece. I think theirs, were beautiful too. It is their truth.

More new friends made! We have a yahoo group to be put up soon, with Twee enlisting as a member.

Photoblog

Photos taken by Lou, The Chris
Location: Bag of Beans, Canyon Woods, Tagaytay City

Poker Nights

Spent the long weekend playing cards: tong-its for girls and poker for the guys. Also learned the red dog, and in-between card games. Actually went to sleep sunday at 3 AM with clubs, diamonds, aces, spades and hearts in my mind.

And that is how time fritters away. No longer lost in languid thoughts, but instead, spent in the company of friends, after a good 3-hour game of badminton, a hearty bilao of pansit malabon and sumpia, a bbq dinner and san mig light, plus Uncle Pards' sashimi from lapu lapu and tuna in Mindanao, and some obscure music playing in the background.

I wish life is a series of long vacation. Sigh. Back to the grind.

So nice to be back home.

Swag and Dick

Today I learn about swag and dick's theory, all from men who purposefully tries to mold me into becoming a man, or to at least into thinking that i have one of 'em hanging loosely in between my legs.

Swag is deftly swaying to a matrix move by an opponent, boss, client or colleague, putting you on the spot, while all eyes are on you. This is "scientific wild-ass guess", basically, putting on your best poker face and answering without looking like a petulant child or with the ears turning red in consternation. This is learned from experience, and as such, it is best to learn by observing the most experienced from the room, in meetings, or presentations, and to become a student of psychology. Observe the non verbal gestures, note the tension, the tempo, the speech, the sleight of hand, the rise and fall of the voice. Notice how others react to the swag.

The other guy tells me two new rules in life, love and lust. Leave my brain out of it, he says, and don't get pregnant. He tells me to go with the flow and learn to detach, in order to find a new happiness.