memories of mia

I wore white today. And I wore it for Mia.

I was not able to go to her wake which began last Monday. And I would no longer write my reasons for not being able to see her before the services this morning. (I scolded myself several times over this but as I have learned, dwelling in regrets would not do any good.)

So I have come to be at peace with myself, believing that Mia knows that she has been a good friend to all of us. My prayers are with her and her family.

Mia was two batches higher from me back in high school (the same age as my Ate Monica) and was once the president of the Math Enrichment Group (MEG) which was composed of students talented in Math who our highschool teachers tapped (I still could not understand how I became a part of it). But it was during my college years when Mia and I somehow got to know each other. Memories of her would come in flashes of white, just fleeting moments filled with her light aura...

...that time back in college when I saw her in UP at the Business Admin building, beside Cami's building in Econ. She was wearing a white polo shirt and a big smile. We just dropped by and said hello but I still remember it distinctly
...there was another time when she dropped by our house because she met with Michelle (I could not remember why) but that was a Sunday and my whole family, relatives included, met Mia. For the first and last time.
...and there was that one time in Manila, three years ago... when we visited her in the hospital because she was diagnosed with cancer. Again, she was just there, happily sitting on her hospital bed. She talked about the chemotherapy that she would undergo a few days after. I couldn't remember what she wore that time but it would probably be white again. Or not. But what I distinctly remember was that she began making beaded necklaces, earrings, bracelets, etc during her free time. And she was cheerfully telling us about what happened to her, her inexplainable persistent colds and sore throat, and how it turned out to be nasophrayngeal cancer. We all thought she would get better because she was so young and so enthusiastic about everything (not to mention preoccupied with her new hobby, selling her artworks on the side). We also knew that a lot of people survive from cancer...

Then I received a text message last Monday. Mia passed away.

All these moments I mentioned above among other things came into my mind, as if they were not so long ago. But then I realized that last memory I had of her was already three years ago...

Memories as we know it are always reconstructed. If my memory has failed me in whatever way, I know that at least it has allowed Mia to remain in my mind as to how I knew her -- light, practical, the math genius, cheerful, and strong in every sense of the word.

Last night, while I was answering my take home finals for one of my subjects, Coco texted about attending a wake and about the regrets of the friends who weren't able to spend time with the one who passed away. Either they were too busy with work or they were too busy with school. And that was their regret -- being too busy with other things and not being able to spend time with the ones they love. So Coco texted all of us to say that she loves us and that she wants to spend more time with everyone. That she's a text away and that we should all spend time together.

She came from Mia's wake.

Our time is short and life is unpredictable.
I've heard this several times but this time it leaves me reflecting deeper.

I was sad for not being able to go to Mia's wake for the same reasons that her friends were not able to see her when she was still alive. But sometimes we could bid goodbye in the most sincere way without physically doing so.

I know that I could not speak of Mia like the way those who truly know her do. But she has left me these good memories as well... little things I would always remember her by.

I know that she has heard all her friends' voices and prayers. She has been and would always be loved by her family and friends. And I believe that she has found peace within herself even before 326.

*In the memory of Mia Quijano*

my saturday special

Today, I cried.

I had an exam that took me 5 1/2 hours to finish. Correction, I didn't finish it. My other classmates used two blue books (probably filled up with answers) while mine had more blank spaces in it than correct statistical derivations. Right now, I'm just frustrated with myself because I could have done better, if only blah blah blah. *sigh* I remember the number of hours I spent trying to derive the different formulae on my own (only to find out they weren't included anywhere in my exam)... Ooh, all those other important stuff that I didn't thoroughly review flashed in front of me... (in bright neon lights... What the?!)

For the longest time, my mind was blank. I stared at my questionnaire. I just didn't know the correct answers, all the summations and rules jumbled in my head. Before I knew it, it was past 6pm. (how could time fly so fast???)

When my classmate, Kathy, hugged me after the exam, I cried. (It's funny when people hug you and make you feel better, that's when you cry...) Mumsy Juliet even gave me chocolates (yummy Flat Tops)... Then I drove Earl, one of my fave Psych friends, who puts up with my quirks to the MRT station.. They all tried to make me feel better with comforting words... but deep inside, I was just disappointed with myself...

Of course this isn't the end of the world or anything (FAR from it!)... but it feels like getting hit on the head with a big THUMP... WAKE UP, LaLa! You're no longer in dreamland... you entered this program and you have the responsibility to study and learn. Majority of the work would come from you, not from your professors or your groupmates. It's gonna be you, your initiative, and your efforts. Dr. David actually said something like this a while ago after the exam --> oftentimes effort is the best predictor of success. (I hope he counts my 5 1/2-hour stay as effort...)

Right after my terrible exam and before meeting up with the canadiagirls for dinner, I swore that I won't use the internet for anything else but research this upcoming week... I was internalizing my faults then... nuninuninuuu...

But during dinner (here comes my justification), we were discussing different things & blogging came up again... (Ahh my mental note then: I just had to write something tonight.)

On our way to Mayen's house for an after-dinner thing, Jill (aka Jillietaaaa) shared how she uses her own blog -- for expressing thoughts and feelings... just like a journal. (So I'm kinda borrowing her idea :p)

When I got home, I told myself... why not write like how I write in my own diary, even just for tonight? Fluid ranting.

And here it is... far from inspiring (sorry Coco dear, I couldn't write inspiring words today; I need one myself... maybe tomorrow after I've rested...)

This one's fresh from the oven...
hot, bittersweet, and as REAL as it could get.
my saturday special.

ngiting pukyutan

My younger sister, Nikki, joined the UP Vocal Ensembles (VE) during her senior year in college. It's the same year she tried out photography. It's the same year she joined a play. It's the same year she decided to enter med school. And the same schoolyear she would graduate magna cum laude (aww, so proud of her!)

I've always believed that all of these were the result of how she handled certain events in her life, both happy and sad. After everything that my lil sis has gone through for the past year/s, she has held her head and heart high. And she truly deserves an article in my blog among other things. :)

"Ngiting pukyutan" was a part of one of their songs for VE. And it was the title Nikki used for her new Multiply account. :p

When I saw it, I just had to ask...

Anong ibig sabihin ng ngiting pukyutan?

"Ngiting pukyutan" when translated in English is "smile like honey".

The English version of honey sounds sweet while the Filipino translation sounds more like another word for coffee than honey. I think the main difference between honey and pukyutan is that the English version sounds familiar while the Filipino term is unfamiliar to many of us. And unfamiliarity could make us base our judgment on the superficial. Let's admit it, pukyutan does not sound sweet.

But just like with the once unfamiliar Filipino words that I learned in high school, I would have to trust that these words are what they are. Bukangliwayway is sunrise. Talipapa is marketplace. Pukyutan is honey.

At ang tanging paraan upang mas matandaan natin ang mga salitang Filipino ay ang paggamit ng mga ito...

Bumili ka ng pukyutan sa talipapa pagsapit ng bukangliwayway.

I'm not sure if I was able to use them correctly. I haven't heard such kind of sentence in any normal conversation. Ever. The truth is we all speak different languages. After all the colonizations that we've gone through and the globalization at present, we have become multilingual.

I speak Filipino. I speak English. I speak teeny weeny Spanish from my basic Spanish class, haha. But I speak mostly in Taglish. It's not the tusok-tusok-the-fishball-kind of Taglish but when you listen carefully, I technically speak Taglish. (listen to yourselves, most of us do)

Writing is just a different story... I could write better in a pure language. Nikki writes in either English or Filipino as well. But what sets her apart is that she speaks mostly in Filipino. And she gets to learn all these words that we would probably only encounter in books inside lola's baul. It's never too late to learn new (actually old) Filipino words!

Pukyutan is honey.

It's doesn't sound sweet but it is.
When one tastes honey and changes its name into pukyutan, it still is sweet. (like Shakespeare's rose)

Nikki is like pukyutan.

At first glance, she can be mistaken as a bit frail. Standing at 5'6" & a little below 100 lbs, she may look all bones beside our ultra-athletic sister, Ling. But going beyond the physical, Nikki is actually one of the strongest women I know. She has strong principles and beliefs. And when she sets her mind into something, she gives it her all. The most focused person I know, she is 100% concentrated honey!

Nikki is currently trying out things that she hasn't done before. She has survived all the bee stings along with the small and big scratches of life. All these allowed her to grow into who she is now. I know that after her graduation this coming April, a lot of good things and persons are waiting for her. Wherever she would find herself, I'm sure she's gonna do just fine. ;-)

Congratulations, Ms. Ngiting Pukyutan! Thanks for making pukyutan sound sweeter than honey :) HUG!

Unifying Diversity

I read an article in the Ateneo website featuring a non-fiction class of Dr. Queena Lee-Chua. She's a professor from ADMU who graduated with a bachelor's degree in math and a doctorate degree in Psychology from the university. (I look up to her! I know a lot of Ateneo Psych students who don't like math much. I was one of them, haha.) A faculty member of the Math and Psychology departments at present, she also writes for the Philippine Daily Inquirer. (I've read some of her articles in her column, Eureka! Some had mathematical equations as puzzles while others had updates on math olympiad results. I also read one dedicated to her mentor who then turned into a good friend). I find her writing style informative and at the same time, able to capture one's interest. In other words, entertaining. It is no surprise then, that in addition to her psychology and math teaching position, Dr. Lee-Chua is currently teaching a non-fiction creative writing class. Her goal? Merging science with creative writing.

I'm quoting the author of the website's article, Martin Villanueva, a 3rd year student of AB Creative Writing... "In her Irwin Chair Lecture on Feb. 21, 2006, Dr. Queena N. Lee-Chua conveyed the significant part she plays to fill a void in Philippine writing today. 'Venturing into science: Creative writing by non-specialists' delved into the art of writing science (a perceived oxymoron within the norms of society".

In that class, science is presented by creative writing means. Jargons are probably lessened, making scientific information easily appreciated by the majority. With such technique, there would be increased number of readers and more effective information dissemination. (I'm curious how these essays sound. I may need to find a copy of some of them soon.)

While reading the article, I couldn't help but look at my own experiences as an undergraduate student :-) My course back then leaned towards science but I've always loved writing and anything that has to do with the arts! (Maybe that's why I jive with the creative people of Comm and other Social Sciences.) I used to ask myself if I were in the right course coz I disliked my two chemistry subjects. (The last one under Dr. Guidote was different. His was enlightening!) I finished BS Psych, nonetheless.

I've always wanted to take creative writing classes in college but never got to do it (I was too busy dissecting sharks&cats, observing my okra plants grow under controlled lighting, and hitting myself with arnis sticks! Or just enjoying tambay hours at the Happy Bench) I had a colorful college life. But I laugh at myself when I remember how grade conscious I was and how much I pretended to hate being called a "nerd" by some of my friends. If being a nerd meant finishing papers on their deadlines and studying for exams, ok then I used to be one! I was a procrastinating nerd though. (We finished our thesis during the night of submission, eeps, praying that we could still have it bound). We still submitted it on time. :-)

Warning: to those who hate conversations about grades, skip this part! Franco used to call me GC for being grade conscious. I think my being less of a GC at present is a sign of how I've grown for the past years. I still am a bit GC now but in a much lesser degree. I've learned to learn in graduate school instead of studying to get an A (or in my case in U.P. now, to get a 1). It's actually liberating to let go of one's GCness. Maybe that's how OC (obsessive compulsive) people feel when they've finally liberated themselves from their OCness. Because of my newfound freedom, I now find time to actually do the things that I've always wanted to do but haven't done much of. That includes writing, traveling, and trying out new things!

Going back to the article, we are not asked to choose between science or creativity. We can have both. We are not asked to choose between math or writing. Dr. Queena Lee-Chua herself is both a "number" and "word" person. All of these are re-affirming one of my mantras: Live a life of diverse interests. In the end, a unifying whole emerges.

Just like what Dr. Lee-Chua envisions, science and arts are one. And just like in the non-fiction creative writing essays her students have written, substantive creativity resides.

(For the entire article, go to www.admu.edu.ph/ and search for 'Science, meet Creativity:' Irwin Chair Lecture or Dr. Queena Lee-Chua.)

quotes i've tumbled upon

I was writing my research paper about active and non-active lifestyles a while ago. And I was looking for a quote to start my paper with. I still haven't found the perfect one but I did come across quotes that struck me.

Read on.

For those who feel that they are in the lowest and saddest moments of their lives, I find this quote inspiring.

When you come to the end of all the light you know, and it's time to step into the darkness of the unknown, faith is knowing that one of two things shall happen: Either you will be given something solid to stand on or you will be taught to fly. -Edward Teller

* * *

I actually keep a copy of this quote inside my wallet. I received a copy of it from Ma'am Mira Ofreneo at the start of one of her classes. It is for all of us who have unanswered questions. Let's live life with wonder!

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves like locked rooms and like books that are written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, and live along some distant day into the answer. -Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

* * *

This last quote is what I actually first saw. It's from an ad for Nike, one of my favorite brands. I think ad writers can move & shake people more than what they're credited for. This one's so Nike-ish, love it!

"All your life you are told the things you cannot do. All your life they will say you're not good enough or strong enough or talented enough; they will say you're the wrong height or the wrong weight or the wrong type to play this or be this or achieve this. THEY WILL TELL YOU NO, a thousand times no, until all the no's become meaningless. All your life they will tell you no, quite firmly and very quickly. AND YOU WILL TELL THEM YES." - Nike ad

YES! YES! YES! :-)

For my Ladies: Tea and Geography (instead of sympathy)

Baang! Chef and Brewer. Old Spaghetti House. Heaven N Eggs. JTs chicken inasal. CPK. Grilla. Burgoo. Chili's. Dimarck's. And Baang again!
These are the places where in one point in time (or more), I had my dose of TEA (not coffee) with the girls...
or where we shared desserts of all kinds and flavors...
where we had our endless discussions about relationships, careers, revelations, or plain updates on each other's lives...
where we learned to hold our weekly get-togethers which eventually turned into bi-monthly then recently into monthly! (this calls for red alert, girls!!! but monthly updates are still good as compared to pre-Canadiagirls times, when we rarely had get-togethers except during birthdays!)

Going back to our favorite spots...

People would look at us and sometimes see:
A long table filled with hyperactivity -- 1,000,000 words per minute, baby!
Or six girls giggling HARD until Coco would have tears welled-up in her eyes (and still laughing her distinct khkhkhkh laugh).
Or three ladies and a gentleman conversing deeply about more serious matters.
Or just two confidantes. Or three. Whispering. Gasping. (sorry, we all swore to keep our secrets.)
As long as there were stories to tell and tea to drink or crepe to share, we were there.


Last night's session in Baang was short noticed. Aenid called for it the afternoon before (It was a spur of the moment kind of thing... "miss nkta, let's have tea!" then there we were). And whoever was game & free could just drop by.

In the end, it was just me and Aenid. Like the one in Chef before. And the one in Heaven N eggs (but Mayen followed that time, yay! :-) sorry partner, we had to go home early last night :t we missed you! And all the girls too!) I'm kinda famous for dating my girlfriends on weekends, haha. (while my official date is still in cebu :p)

And like in all the other get-togethers, there was always one striking event or news to be told.

Aenid's leaving for San Francisco on May 29.
She would be the third in our barkada to move out from the Philippines.
First, Cami.
Then, Jo.
And now it's Aenid's turn.

These girls have been my friends since our grade school years, back when we played patintero or told ghost stories under the acacia trees in school... up until highschool when we learned to include boys in our discussions, preparing and attending soirees, and then college when we eventually swore the guys off our lives (just kiddin'! we love the special ones)

When Cami was about to leave back in 3rd year college, we had the longest preparation for it -- trip to Zambales (where she told us that she was leaving for good), attending all her org's events, sudden visits to U.P. & gaining new friends from EcoSoc, her suprise party, our sleep-over or sleepless-sleep-over, rather... We all cried so hard that time. Yet, we managed to capture all those puffy-eyed moments with our indispensable camera.

After that first despedida, we realized that ALL OF US could have had spent more time together. And we swore to do just that. That was the birth of the CanadiaGirls -- comprised of 14 girls (sometimes ladies, sometimes women, but oftentimes still girls) plus Glenn, our honorary member. And the beginning of our regular get-togethers and our rare but much awaited sleep-overs. Eventually, Jo left for Canada too. Aww.

We've all gone through heartaches & break-ups (the clean & not-so-clean ones), shifting courses, hunting for the perfect job, night outs, vacation trips & updating each other about our adventures (skiing for cami, beach at night for Jo, beach trips for us back here, Mayen in Ausy, me climbing the Great Wall, Aenid in NY, the list goes on), welcoming new persons to the barkada and to our lives (whenever someone had a boyfriend to introduce), and all the ups & downs of people nearing the quarter of a century.

Now that we're in this age, we have learned to accept that we would all eventually live our own lives. Each of us would have that certain corner in the world. But like all the other corners found in any geometrical figure, our corners are only created by connecting lines. In distant places then, those connecting lines for us had been and would always be the lines of open communication.

At this point, I choose to stay here in the Philippines. This is my corner. Among us, I think Sarah, Coco, Julie, Michelle, Mayen, Jill, Kate and Alych opt to do the same. Cami and Jo have left while Aenid, Cheree, and Glenn are planning to leave. These are the choices and the plans at present.

But we have to keep in mind that all our plans have a hint of uncertainty. Because if there's anything I've learned for the past months, it would be these things: sometimes we really can't tell what life holds for us. Sometimes we don't always get what we want. Or sometimes we just change in time. And what we want now may not be the what we want several years after.

Amidst all the possible changes, I remain hopeful for my ladies... that wherever we will be 10 years from now, we would still have our conversations (even without the tea).

And lastly, I wish to contradict myself. I am certain... that if ever we do find ourselves living in different parts of the globe someday, we would have at the very least another day to ourselves. After all, didn't we once swear to watch Oprah live? :p

To all my ladies, HUGS and *Cheers*
Hmm, "Cheers" -- that's another story.... :)

Wonder of the Words

It was mentioned in our Psych 274 class earlier that wisdom stems from one's experiences. It is not so much the experience that matters but what one makes out of it.

I found myself agreeing with the second line, probably because I already wrote something similar to that in my diary a few times in my life. Let's just say it's a kind of consolation for my not-so-good-experiences... that whenever I got hurt or whenever I made mistakes in the past, I wrote about my learning and what I gained from the painful experience (no matter how deep or shallow the pain was). I wrote about rising from my falls. I wrote about what I had to do in the future.

Oh, I know you get the picture. After all, these are the usual lines that we hear or read. But there is a reason why "usual lines" become such. More often than not, they are TRUE.

Difficult challenges do make us stronger.
Mistakes do allow us to learn.
And embarrassments eventually make us laugh at ourselves.
Well, at least hopefully we gain all these from bad experiences.

Going back to the discussion on wisdom, we had an already familiar yet interesting activity in class before the report began.

Creative.
Intelligent.
Expert.
Wise.

We were asked to characterize different well-known personalities by using the four descriptions above.
We were shown pictures of Bill Gates, Buddha, Kuh Ledesma, Dr. David, GMA, Paris Hilton, Tiger Woods, Dan Brown, Garry Kasparov, Mother Teresa, and Manny Pacquiao.

These were the answers (others may overlap):

Creative - Kuh Ledesma for music, Dan Brown for his writing, Paris Hilton (we had a difficult time answering where she would fall under [someone said none of the above, aww, paris isn't that bad]... but we all decided in the end, creative for her fashion!), Dr. David

Intelligent - Bill Gates, Buddha, GMA for her IQ level, Tiger Woods, Dan Brown, Dr. David

Expert - Kasparov for chess, Pacquiao for boxing, Bill Gates for Microsoft, Tiger Woods for golf, Dr. David for everything that he does

Wise - Buddha, Mother Teresa, Dr. David

If I were given a chance, I would have added the Dalai Lama, Imelda, Oprah, Kris Aquino, Johnny Depp, Marcos, Hitler, and Sir Anthony Hopkins in the exercise. And see how each of them would have been characterized.

* * * * *
Before I sleep tonight, I want to do the exercise again.
This time, I'll think of not-so-well-known persons but the ones I know well enough :)

Read on.

Creative - Tita Susan & Tita Perly (my mom's sisters), Kuya Paolo, my lola
Intelligent - Tito Perry, Nikki, Ate Monica, Ling, my dad, my mom, Franco, my lolo
Expert - my dad, my lolo
Wise - my mom, my lolo

I decided to limit it within my own family first because if I start writing down others, I might not be able to finish my list.

That's it for now.
Good night, guys! :)
Zzzzzzzzzz Zzzzzzzzzzz

Proud to be Pinoy

I remember my own highschool friends telling me how nationalistic I am. Am I, really?

Back then, others saw me as nationalistic because I've always been proud of my skin color, because I didn't want to leave the country, and because I spoke good Tagalog. Hindi naman dahil sa malalim ang aking pananalita ng wika. Marahil naaangkop lamang talaga ang paggamit ko ng mga salita dahil hilig ko talaga ang pagsulat.

But it doesn't end there.That doesn't even reach 1/4 of being nationalistic.Nationalism isn't about these superficial things. It's not based on one's skin color nor is it based on one's manner of speaking or one's current location. I can be nationalistic even if I were fair skinned (which I'm not) or even if I were elsewhere in the world or even if I could not speak the language as well as others (but believe me, I do and I'm proud of it!).

It is the love for one's nation.
It is the love for being a Filipino.
And when you love something, you are proud of it.
You want only the best for it.

With all the events happening in our country, I sometimes find myself hiding behind the superficial. I talk about things that directly concern me as if I don't see the other things happening. But they've always been there. And I often stop to think about them. I watch the news. I read the newspaper. And I ask myself, what is it that I can do?

Wowowee stampede. Deaths.
Tragedy in Leyte. Deaths.
Proclamation 1017. Rallies. Charges. Deaths.
Others equate life with freedom. Without freedom, life could not be considered as such.

I give it a thought. And another. Just that, plain thoughts.Such a shame. How many are doing the very same thing? Sometimes silently. Sometimes aloud. But still, just thinking.

It's the system. How do we change a system? If it were like a computer, we could have restarted it a long time ago (or was it reboot? sorry, I'm not much of a techie). Quin had a point when he wrote about how to solve the system's problem if it were a computer. Sadly, it's not.

No matter how small, I have plans to contribute.

Plan 1:
donations for Leyte victims - check!

Plan 2:
join Sarah this coming April to build homes in Leyte - summer

Plan 3:
Ask my friends to do the same - summer

Plan 4:
create my research survey for Psych grad class revolving around the current events and finding out other students' sentiments on the issues - still ongoing

Plan 5:
I'm still thinking what else I could do aside from praying, writing, and persuading...

* * * * *
I still can't say at this point if I truly am nationalistic in every sense of the word, whether my friends have been correct all along or not. But these are the things that I am certain of...

I love our country.
I love the Filipino people.
I'm definitely proud to be one.
And I'm willing to do my share.

Whirls & Sshwirls

Franco came home from Cebu last Friday. And we spent the weekend together attending weddings. One on a Saturday night and the other on a Sunday afternoon.

The first one was Fritz and Denise's (a.k.a. the preschoolers' prom night :p). It's one of the most beautiful weddings I've been to. I love the flowers (white tulips). I love the food (yummy desserts. Desserts are one of the things that bonded me with Den. That and dancing). I love the big yet intimate effect of the entire wedding. And I love its colors! (I wore a pink and apple green ensemble which was coincidentally the wedding's theme. haha!) I know that it will also be one of the happiest and strongest marriages out there. I've seen how close they've become to each other's families and how they've always placed God at the center of their lives. Amen. And cheers! (the perfect combo)

The second wedding was for a family friend (a.k.a. franco & lala amongst the more matured crowd). Take note: we had a great time conversing with the more matured ones. When I say "more matured", that would mean my grandparents' friends in the village who were seated with us. Correction, we were seated with them, in a sort of VIP round table, right across the principal sponsors' long table. We just met the bride and groom that day but I do hope their marriage will be as happy as their wedding. :)

Franco and I have been super busy lately that we couldn't remember spending any "normal dates" for the past months. The last time we had one was in 2005. (A typical-dinner-movie-date falls under our definition of a "normal date". For us, weddings aren't typical.) But the funny thing is, I actually enjoy the change. Let me explain first before this gets misinterpreted. I don't enjoy the fact that we're apart most of the time. Na-ah. But I do appreciate the way we both adjust to each other's wild schedules. We juggle our activities so we could be together even in the most bizarre time of the day. We now have activities that aren't born out of habit. And that's what I love -- the spontaneity.

Sometime in January. Franco was leaving for Isabela after coming home from Pangasinan. I was driving home from a dance class. He was eating lunch alone in World Topps so I surprised him there before his 8-hour trip.
February 1. Franco came home from Isabela but was leaving for Boracay the next day. I came from Palawan the previous month and we still haven't seen each other since then. So we decided to just have dinner after my experimental design class at 9pm.
February 6. Franco woke me up at 4:30 am so he could visit me at home before his 9am flight for Cebu. We had breakfast together and did all our catching up until 7am because he just came home from Boracay and I from Los Baños the previous night.
March 3. (almost a month!) 8:45pm. I went to the airport to welcome him back in Manila!
March 4 and March 5. The wedding dates.
March 6. Departure. Aww.

The thing is I no longer have an erratic schedule. I'm back to my focused student life. Franco, on the other hand, is back to his busy distribution sales stint in Cebu.

We are often asked how we handle our semi-long distance relationship (well, atleast my friends keep on asking). My answer to that is we hold on to our plans -- both short term and long term. Take note: Plans for big things; spontaneity for smaller ones.

One of our short term plans is to spend the summer vacation together. My first summer break after years of having none. His first VL after almost 2 years of working. April is definitely the month of triple celebration for us. Until then, then. As for the long term plans, I'm still hush hush about it. After all, action does speak louder than words.

For now, I'm finally immersing myself in my research papers. They've been on hold for quite a while. And they're screaming out my name, pleading for me to start feeding them with words. Lalaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

My very own ABCs and 123s

After my dance class last Thursday, I had a date with my fellow hiphoppers, Cess and Tita Irene. Although they didn't attend the class (Cess came from work while Tita Irene who is 4 months pregnant couldn't dance as hard as she used to), we all decided to meet for dinner.

Tia Maria's, Katipunan, 6:15 pm.
It felt like I was back in college, meeting up with friends.
At first, it was just me and Cess, eating and blabbing away.

Cess is my ultimate chikahan buddy. She finished her MBA from Ateneo and has been chased by different companies since then. She just recently decided to go back to the corporate world (after focusing on their baby garments business, Blue Parasol, for quite a while). As always, our conversation loomed around different topics --work, career moves, dance, shibashi, surfing, her daily mass, my shirt (Falkirk Falcon), my antics, and other historical events in our lives .

Then Tita Irene came, right on the dot, 7pm.

Tita Irene is my highschool classmate's mom. She's currently pregnant with her 4th child. And as always, she arrived giving us a kiss and a tight hug. Our conversation then moved to her feedbacks about my GamePlanning (she recorded all of them), my Palawan adventure, and how game she is to climb rocks and mountains! She is definitely one of the coolest moms I know. But while she's still pregnant, I think we'll have our swimming sessions first.

I am the youngest among us 3 but I agree with Tita Irene when she said that there seems to be no age difference between us. Both of them are more experienced and knowledgeable about life as compared to me... and I love it coz I learn so much from them. Not only do we dance together, we all cheer and support each other in the different things that we do.

It was my first time to eat in Tia Maria's (Franco & I are not so into Mexican food so we haven't gone there). The food was a bit spicy (ohh yes, red bell peppers & spices et al. I am not into those spicy stuff) but surprisingly, I loved the soft shelled tacos that I ordered. (I wanna try their super burrito next time). The entire dinner was something like how my life has been unfolding before me for the past months -- new experiences, new things that I didn't know I would love, new opportunities, closing doors & opening windows, and the limitless possibilities.

In other words, I am still wondering what the world has to offer or better yet, what I have to offer to the world.

It's a good start.
To re-affirm that the world is not enclosed by walls.
Like Padawan, I'm a living and breathing learner.

Fixed :-)

As you can all see, I finally discovered how to fix the time in my Blog. Yay!
Now I know how children feel when they discover new words and add those words in their ever-growing vocabulary.

I didn't think that something so simple could make me feel like this. I know it's far from Eureka! but somehow it has the same effect on me.

Love it!

Time-out!

Can someone teach me how to adjust the time in my blog?
thanks!
Or I would just have to figure this out by myself...
It's actually 9:34 am on my watch now.
And it's March 2.
nuninuninuninuuu...

Bend. Curve. And straightening it out.

It took me quite a while before getting used to this blog thing... but still, it took me longer to be persuaded to actually start one. And now that I finally did, I think I'm getting a bit addicted.

I spent hours in front of the computer last night, figuring things out for myself. I was equipped with nothing but curiosity and voila! I've finally created my own blog. And with it, I got an upper back pain as well. (Note to self: correct your posture).

It feels like writing in my own diary (which I've been doing since I was in grade 2) but with less privacy. Atleast I am aware that someone might actually read my work. (And it is already implied that I am allowing others to read some of my thoughts). So there. I am now welcoming myself to the world of bloggers!!!

I decided not to post my "Meet Lala Jara" essay yet. It's still saved in the other computer and I'm still having a good time just typing away here...hihi. I'll just post it next time (when I feel like it). :-p

*****

Nikki is about to develop the black and white film that she used last December. Finally!!! Ling and I were her more-than-willing crazy models. haha! I'm excited to see how her pictures would turn out. Nikki's a natural born artist while Ling and I are innately vain, the perfect combination. haha!

If curiosity killed the cat, vanity would definitely kill us.

*****

I'm going... I'm going... :-) I have one of my most challenging classes to face later tonight. And I need to prepare for it. Or else my professor would call me again...

"Miss Jara, is 2 not an abstraction? What is 2?"
"Sir, 2 is a number."

I can't afford to give him another blank face.

*****

Stretch.
Twist.
Turn.
I hope my upper back pain would disappear before 5.

Where to begin...

I've always wanted to be a writer but it was just recently that I considered myself as one.

How does one become a writer? How does one begin? And does it matter if nobody reads what one writes? Technically, somebody always does read what one writes. The writer herself can always read her work. After all, it is writing that is prerequisite to reading and not the other way around. (I read that in one of my books while researching for cognitive psychology). In my opinion, a writer is a writer when he or she writes and enjoys it.

Ever since I was a kid, I used to write fantasy-filled short stories and unfinished childish novels. My two younger sisters used to read them. Nikki, the one after me, even made a book report about one of my stories back in gradeschool. (Whee, I had one of my works undergo an "academic review" at such a young age!) But I never really considered myself a writer, a really real (memories of my Philo class under William Panlilio rush in) writer... not until recently.

I started with my MA classes in U.P. last June 2005. And upon entering a prerequisite class for Psychology, my professor asked us to write a self-introductory essay (of course it was about ourselves). It was the assignment that led me into my realizations of how much I love to write -- making a short storyline that revolves around my name and its evolution though the years, editing this and that, and just enjoying the entire process.

To cut it all short, I made a two and a half page (yellow pad paper) essay about myself. I wasn't really being too self-absorbed or anything (haha, defensive!). But I just found it therapeutic (hence the length) to attempt writing about myself. The more I wrote, the more I discovered things that I never really gave attention to before.

And in answering the question that we've always asked ourselves... who am I? I found myself still elusive from all the words that I could muster in my head. But then again, as persons, we are always beyond the labels and descriptions that we use.

I knew my professor actually read the whole essay (even if it was longer than usual) because in class he sometimes referred to my being a former kindergarten teacher, one of the personal information I wrote. And also because of another thing...

By the end of the semester, I did get a good grade from his class but I'm pretty sure it wasn't because of my writing. (It was a class in Statistics.)

I knew he read everything because he wrote something on my class card (Miss Cristy, our nice personnel in the Dept, who was surprised when she handed me my class card said that he rarely writes remarks). There he scribbled something that lit my face up. The first line he wrote signified that he understood one of my essay's major points. Yet, it was the second line that I would never forget. It was short and simple. "Well done".

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I will post my self introductory essay one of these days.
It's entitled Meet Lala Jara, inspired by my all-time favorite movie, Meet Joe Black.

Now, I want to keep on writing... but more about other places, persons, and events.
I know that I'll be viewing these things from my own lenses and basing them on my own experiences, definitely not free from any biases. I am embracing my subjectivity.

This is where I begin.