Fighting temptations: Thou shall covet thy neighbor’s LV

If you want me to go weak in the knees, say the magic word, baby.

Louis Vuitton.

Fine. They’re burning LV bagaholics at the stake now. Just go to the chismis sites who crucify LV, Chanel and Gucci lovers as perpetrators of grave social sins (but then again, this deserves a separate blog entry).

Last Wednesday, as I was taking a break from a 16-hour stint in the office, I managed to scour through e-bay Philippines sans any purpose.

First keyword in mind: Louis Vuitton.

As I went through the search results page… scroll down, down, down…

Voila!

Darling, what do we have here?

An LV Bel Air sling bag-briefcase!

I’m in luuuuuurv.

This 1997-2000 beauty was being auctioned off quite reasonably.

I only had one apprehension in mind: Is it authentic, considering that I found it in ebay?

I looked at the seller’s online reputation and rating. She is quite stellar – given a 100% positive rating by all her customers.

Immediately, I signed up in the auction site, got in touch with the seller, asked questions, requested for more close-up shots and placed my bid.

Naturally, I won the bid since cosmo Manila is more predisposed to purchasing the Speedy, the bucket and other more popular Vuittons.

This afternoon, as heavy rains drenched Manila, I drove to the mall to meet Cyndi, the fab seller who is also a bag enthusiast like me.

I now have, in my hand, the Bel Air sling bag.

Not one ounce of regret that I made the bid. No, it wasn’t bought on impulse since I thought about it for days. I obsessed over it as manifested by two sleepless nights and by my incessant staring at its photo in my laptop.

La Belle Air and I were meant to be together.

After slaving off in the office the entire week and not sleeping a wink last night getting worried sick of Boyfriend --- I most definitely deserve it.

*huge smile plastered on my face*

Sunday morning: coffee, thesis and a movie

I woke up early today. 8:30 am on a Sunday morning is early in my definition.

Hours and hours of sleep did me a lot of good.

So I am on thesis mode again. With coffee, a cigarette stick… and an HBO movie.

In the middle of lines and lines of words and paragraphs on global warming, I just thought about him. And us.

There’s a line in Taye Diggs’ movie (The Best Man, 1999), spoken by his long-time girlfriend: “Maybe if I meet them then I will know what’s holding you back to me.”

What is holding you back?

Doubts? Fear that I will leave? That I will not stick around?

What about fears of my own? That you will leave? That you will not stick around?

I have them all – in their full darkness and pain.

But I have faith.

And I continue to believe.

I just hope I wake up one Sunday morning finding you in the same walk of faith.

In me, in you.

In us.

Six cycle Cinderella

I spent the entire Saturday in bed on snooze mode. Feeling sick, with the smell of food making me feel like throwing up. With intermittent sleep, though, I’m better now.

Notwithstanding the migraine, it feels good to recharge on a Saturday – stay in, do some errands, nap.

Cheap alcohol = nasty hangover

Last night’s partying caused me a whole day’s worth of hangover. Friends and I have been going to Sidebar for cheap cocktails – imagine getting 3 margaritas and frozen daiquiris for a hundred fifty bucks! It’s a super steal!

Being a cheapskate, though, has a steep price. Since I already did this twice, I can claim that cheap alcohol really brings me the worst migraine of all.

Will I do it again? Maybe. Hahaha.

Grapetinis and flirtinis will always be fabulous at Martinis, Mandarin. No doubt about that!

But there’s also something about cheaply hanging out with friends, waiting in queue to have our own tables for an hour while already getting our margarita fix. Not to mention that the bar’s DJ really plays good hip-hop and trance music!

I definitely won’t do it every week but it’s something fun to do every now and then.

As for the next stop, Gemma and I have been toying with the idea of going back to Jaipur – revisiting an old jaunt of ours after several months of hibernation. Let’s see if I can drag The Boyfriend back in there – all in the spirit of fun.

Deadmatology 101

No. I’m not ignoring you intentionally, dear friend. When you send me messages online, either I’m in meetings or I just logged off.

So I’m not on deadma-mode on purpose.

At the same time, don’t ask me to dish if you can’t take it.

You dish --- a whole lot. Know how to take it when it’s your turn.

Friday etcetera

I didn’t realize it was Friday the 13^th today until I logged in to my notebook and saved my first file for the day. I normally save documents with their corresponding date.

I forget where beliefs about Friday the 13^th originated. I remember reading somewhere that it’s a Wiccan tradition to celebrate the 13^th. It wasn’t supposed to be stigmatized as unlucky. There’s just something mystic about it.

Moving on to my random thoughts this morning…

Sunnydale High

Ka-Birthday is a colleague of mine. From the monicker, yes, we have the same birthday, only that he’s a year older. We are collaborating on a personal project for the past week now and although things are just in its early stages of conception, I’m feeling quite excited about it.

What’s very interesting about this guy is how his sunny disposition can overcome any kind of pressure and misfortune. Not once did I see him get pissed off over something. Well, even if I did, it must be about something with the greatest of magnitude.

While every team member is already in panic-mode days before a project launch, he remains calm and collected. When there are difficult assignments and almost everyone gets discouraged, he’s the only one who will come to me and remark that the project is exciting.

Although magka-birthday kami and I’m generally an optimist, admittedly, I don’t have that kind of temperament. When I’m pissed, it’s hard for me to keep a straight face or not say anything.

I’m just glad he’s in my team. Baka lang that sunny sunshine mode can rub off on me.

Cinema gaga

I’m watching movies again. Yeeey.

Big dill. For someone like me who’s been in hiatus for more than a year in terms of watching movies, this is a milestone. I used to watch 2 movies in a week several years back, until I needed to travel more often.

I managed to watch Sex and the City (how can I miss it?), Kung Fu Panda and Chronicles of Narnia: Prince Caspian.

Planning to watch The Happening next, although it earned bad reviews.


PartEEE

Bakit kailangang pumarty para maging masaya?

Why do you have to snort coke to feel confident about yourself?

Gucci gang isdatchu?

Why can’t just people have fun? Pwede bang classic getting-drunk-as-skunk with friends and suffer a throbbing migraine the following day?

J. is a friend of mine who started popping party pills several years back when he would go to clubs. I heard from a common friend yesterday that last year, he started doing coke and will not go out clubbing without snorting the white powder up his nose.

J., whadafuck are you doing? Why are you doing this to yourself?

Common friend told me that J. now is acting really strange and sometimes gets verbally incoherent. It’s weirding his friends out.

I haven’t seen him for a while and we lost touch. I hope he realizes how stupid it is to get addicted before it’s really too late.

Weather check

The make up and break up mode is not an easy ride. When things are doing well, it’s one heck of a nirvana that you wouldn’t want to get out of. But when the demons overrule reason, it can be overwhelmingly draining.

Yesterday, I did a weather check on us by asking The Boyfriend if we’re okay. I guess he was surprised by the question because it came from nowhere.

I can never anticipate when it’s going to happen again --- feeling scared and losing hope. That’s why I take it to myself now to do a regular check on how we are doing in the relationship.

I hope someday he finds it in himself to trust us and to feel confident on how great we can become… and that although he may feel afraid at times (isn’t it even scarier out there?), may he muster the courage to just keep the faith. And believe.

Happy Friday!

Random Biatchiness

There’s something about this week that makes people rant and rage. N. lost it this morning in the office and nearly screamed at the top of her lungs, what with the workload we all have and the stress that inevitably comes with it.

Me… I’m just peeved. Some things just really caught my ire and I just have to let off some steam.

1. Prima Donnang mukhang Yaya

We have this new officemate who acts like she has her own maid/assistant in the office. I didn’t like the way she “gave orders” to someone to buy her food when in fact, she was just asking for a favor. The one she made “pakisuyo” is neither a secretary nor an assistant. Other people also don’t like the way she looks other officemates from head to toe.

This is one classic case of a feelingera.

Pardon me for saying this. Halleeer… mukha shang mayda ano.

I know. I totally sound like the Royal Biatchiness but this girl really deserves the dishing out. I have a lot against people who don’t know how to say please or those who don’t know how to give orders/ask for things politely.

And what’s with eyeing people up and down?

Girl, ever heard of the word pakisama?

2. Gas prices up in there

Circa 2007, a full tank would cost me P1,300. Now, I’m racking up to P2000! At US $150 a barrel, economic analysts are forecasting fuel to go as high as US $200 in two months, what with the oil cartel and the Israel-Iran conflict.

Inflation has never been this high. We are about to face a worldwide recession.

Gusto ko na lang maglakad. Or magkulong sa bahay. Ayoko na gumastos.

3. Shopping moratorium

Speaking of gastos, well, I have to trim the fat somewhere. With the fuel and rice crises (ever heard of the chismis that there will be a rice cartel soon? Anubayaaan.), something’s gotta give.

For that, I bid shopping and the spa adieu, albeit temporarily.

Disclaimer: Pwera all the items I’ve already ordered and committed to purchase from my favorite Multiply sellers. Plugging for Cat Limson who makes uber fab accessories and Alexandria’s wonderful belts (Sex and the City, isdatchu?).

4. Ho-hum. Bore me some more.

Don’t you get tired of hearing the same old boring de lata stories from other people (by people, I mean, no, they’re not my friends) about pursuing new partners and new loves?

And that’s all they can talk about. Over. And over. And over. Anuver.

Someone has been telling me the same friggin’ crap about finding new love, new karir (no, not pertaining to productive job). Puro temang paglalandi.

Yes, I appreciate stories like this and being a total sucker for romance that I am, I’m sincerely happy for anybody who can find true love, and keep them. Against all odds (violin playing in the background).

Pero naman, naman… hindi ba pwedeng ibang kwento naman? Not because I’m not interested, but because there are other more fascinating stories to tell, lovelier songs to sing.

Whatever happened to telling stories about yourself – who you are now, how have you been or what has changed?

Ifsongco was right, you know. You want someone to love you? Go love yourself first. Make yourself whole. Stop being desperate about finding love. And love, will eventually find you.

5. Preyshur, preyshur.

The overall pressure that everyone feels in the office is just really overwhelming. We all can feel the heat. In times like this, it’s really necessary to do some cheerleading for your one-downs and your colleagues. The greatest challenge is to handle pressure with grace.

Sometimes, I find myself wanting to just rant my head off but I have other people who rely on me to be calm and collected. If I snap, they too, will. So I bit my tongue some more. Until I bleed to death.

Good thing the Big Boss is a fantastic cheerleader herself.

Amidst all this yada-yada, there are a lot of things to be grateful for. Thank God for R.’s clean bill of health (again, I made bargains just to ensure he is physically fit), for the (temporary) peace and solace, for my almost-baby daughter who’s growing smarter each day, and for my wonderful friends who take in the heat with me.

The Universe will always give redemption. Just when we were about to scream, cry, bleed – N., Y. and I were given free movie passes to see Kung Fu Panda. Simple things like this already give me joy. Thank God for the freebies.

What it takes to let go and not worry

I spent almost half my weekend being a lazy couch potato. Apart from running errands and spending some quality time with my (almost) baby daughter, I spent my weekend glued on my TV, watching the series “What About Brian?”

Addicted --- is an understatement. I was already suffering from migraine, what with the 8-hour non-stop marathon. I still can’t peel myself off my couch!

There’s something fascinating with a “lost” man (Brian) who so passionately runs after women he can never have and shuns away equally-fascinating women who likes him. Add to that men’s Peter Pan syndrome of never wanting to grow up and move on.

Actually, I am the girl-type who gravitates more towards Brian’s best friend, Adam – the golden boy – blonde, athlete, lawyer and drop-dead G. I prefer men with foresight and ambition. Being gorgeous --- is merely considered bonus points.

So there I was --- spending my weekend lazily, sans either direction or motivation to do anything productive.

All this, was done, by choice.

My deliberate choice to be hypnotized by the conundrum of complicated, albeit fictional lives of TV series characters was my (pathetic) way of coping… and denying that I am for the most part – worrying to death.

And missing someone terribly.

He travels a lot. That is his way of work and life. Two weeks will not pass by without him flying off to Manila, Taiwan, Bangkok… and now France to meet his clients and to attend conferences. That is just how things are. That is how we met. And this is how the relationship survives.

Call and think of me as paranoid --- but wouldn’t you feel the way I do?

Every time he boards the plane… I cannot help but worry about him. It’s not about him meeting someone else (unless there’s another more fascinating woman who will sit beside him in business class and topple over that animated conversation over wine and steak circa 2006). I’m fortunate and blessed to be with someone who does not possess wandering eyes.

I do worry about his safety. Enormously. When he gets on the plane and gets off. I cannot help but wonder if the Universe will play me this card. Yet I dread its mere thought.

This morning when I awoke, I frantically logged on to Cathay Pacific to check his flight status. He was leaving Paris to come home. My heart skips a beat when I see that his flight is delayed. And I pray, pray, pray. Relentlessly. Bargaining with God on the things I can give up in exchange for his safety.

This is how I feel every time.

And last weekend, the resolution to be catatonic in front of the television for hours and hours on end is my way to survive the weekend without worrying too much.

I realized, this is the first time that I ever talked about this. He doesn’t even know that I feel this way – how this saddens me and how it occasionally brings me to tears, how lunacy can win over logic. All because I care for someone, and the thought of losing them frightens the living daylights out of me.

He will travel. Again and again.

That should explain why I have Will and Grace’s Seasons 1 to 8, Chuck’s Season 1 and how I am starting to hoard CSI New York.

Better than Prozac.

Higher Learning: On. Nerd mode.

Over the weekend, I vowed to once again plunge into writing my thesis draft. Seriously, this time. I figured, I can’t stall this forever. Neither will it get done on its own.

From Sunday until today, I have been relentless. I would stop working at 6:30pm only to do more research and thesis writing. So far, I have been a good girl. I’m on my fourteenth page.

When I feel tired or feel a momentary relapse on my writing, I rest for a while --- read something for leisure to refresh. What’s weirding my friends and colleagues out is what I read for pleasure.

Make a wild guess.

Shopaholic series? Any Candace Bushnell novel?

Nah.

‘Love the chic lit but I don’t know why I have been fancying biographies lately. Right now, I’m reading on Carl Jung – his memoirs and almost everything about the Jungian psychology movement, the marriage of spirituality and psychology and his friendship with and eventual estrangement from Sigmund Freud.

Wow, dude, lalim.

I know.

But I can’t stop reading about it. I can’t stop trying to figure out how and why the people of his time are so brilliant and so wise. The chismis in their lives are colorful, too – what with Freud’s affair with his wife’s sister, Jung’s being declared as persona non grata from the Freud’s psychoanalysis movement because of diverging theories (hindi pa uso ‘non ang agreeing to disagree).

Ang galing lang. Very inspiring.

I wish I had the same brilliance and drive for erudition.

Perhaps in their time there was no Embassy or Alchemy to distract them just yet.

Or Nintendo Wii or PSP for that matter.

Hahaha.

As for me --- it’s good that I am on this mode by choice. It’s really hard to zone in on schoolwork by compulsion.

So on to writing more pages for my first draft – which I intend to finish by August.

From all this hard work, a reward awaits.

If I finish my thesis by September… Angkor Wat, here I come!

Here, finally

I have to make this note quickly since Doji will be here any minute now.

Armed with my Kohji (yes, proud to be an owner of one), I am sitting here inside Apartment 1B, about to have breakfast.

I have been trying to go to this restaurant for a year now (yes, a year!), but nobody seems to want to go with me!

‘Heard their eggs benedict is fantabulous so I can’t wait to order.

This is one of those mundane things that I miss doing, ever since I got caught up in the ebb of complicated things.

I miss early breakfast by myself in a cozy café – lazily sitting with yet a more mundane beauty and make-up magazine or the profound philosophical writings of Paulo Coelho about the Universe.

I have also missed out on the early breakfast tête-à-têtes with Doji – he is my lone breakfast companion since he is the only person in my circle who considers breakfast at 8am some sort of social event.

Amidst the emotional turmoil inflicted on me by the Universe and Him (albeit unintentionally – or is it?), I am just happy… and comforted to be here.

I wish I can describe my feelings more aptly.

Comfortable bliss.

You are missed.

[May 17 - 8:45am]

Johari Window – theirs and mine

1. You speak of pain and trauma like I was the only one who inflicted them on you. You were a slave to another Goddess for almost a decade of your life yet you found a flicker of understanding and an iota of forgiveness for her. That, despite her manipulation and deception.

I hope you can look back and recount how many times you threatened me with pain and loss to get what you want, how you almost rammed my car out of anger and how much emotional abuse you inflicted on me by your reckless words.

Despite all these, I never even felt the slightest anger or hatred for you. Sometimes, I wonder whether you are worth forgiving, if you can’t do the same for me.

2. You want me to like you. And you want me to do that when you are openly questioning my choice of partner? I chose him because of my history with him, my love and his vindication. He chose me because he felt it was worth the risk.

He earned it. We both suffered and shed blood tears for what we are now. Your perceptions of him are rightfully yours. Opinions are free. And this is an open market.

But if I chose an older man over you – that is my sole right. You can harp on your youth and his age…

I just hope that when you look at the mirror, you can see what escapes your blind eye --- that you are looking at a 28-year old chink with a receding hairline.

See you in 12 years and let’s see if you still have hair, if you still can raise the flag and if you’ve got that zing that is naturally his.

The Soul of the World

According to Carl Gustav Jung, we all drank from the same spring of life.

“It’s called the “soul of the world.” However much we try to be independent individuals, a part of our memory is the same. We all seek the ideal of beauty, dance, divinity and music.”

What makes people different is the path they choose to seek the beautiful and the divine --- or whether they seek it at all.

Some people just dream the dream from a distance. They know they want it, but complacency and languor put them in a state of inertia.

What’s frightening is to be in that state for the rest of your life – as you see your dreams fade away.

Hey Lady, stop living the life of others and start yours. Love and dreams are never delivered to your doorstep. Neither will you reach them spending your days in bed.

Four Corners of Introspection

Written:
18 March 2008
1:17am

It took me some time before I finally got myself to write this down. This entry has been floating in my head for a couple of months already - just bouncing back and forth in the chambers of my consciousness.

I didn't realize that all I needed was an evening rid of Internet connection and social obligations which yanked me out of my usual trite and trivial routine. Thank God for the solitude.

Normally, this is a year-ender for me - my attempt to take a few steps back and evaluate what my life was like for the past 365 or so days. Yes, I am a Plato believer. "The unexamined life is not worth living."

This time, it took me the entire first quarter to digest what I have been through - unintentional or otherwise.

A roller coaster ride - ridden seven times non-stop - is the way to describe how 2007 was like for me. The highs were the ultimate highs, an apex that I have never reached before.

I have never worked the hardest ever, in the history of my career, and successfully reaped its benefits.

I attended THE conference of my usability engineering career. After 6 years of just fantasizing about it.

I met the founding father of my profession - in flesh and blood - shook his hand, asked him to sign my book and allowed myself to be a goo-goo eyed geek fan girl in his presence. For physicists, it's akin to meeting Albert Einstein. Chanting now: I'm not worthy. I worship the ground Jakob Nielsen stands on.

I continued my passion for further studies, I learned another language. I went back to school to finish my Masters Degree.

I traveled to places where I wanted to be. Hail to the late Anita Roddick. "Travel is like university without walls."

I fought for and won true love. I believed in its existence. Felt and tasted how real it is.

I reconciled and forgave my Father.

My younger sister came home.

I welcomed 30 with the biggest and happiest birthday party I ever had, surrounded by tried and tested friends.

I have accomplished almost everything in my to-do list.

Feng Shui-wise, I was supposed to be unlucky, but I actually fared better.

Yet Fate will not allow me to have it all - for a reason.

On the other hand, the lows were also the most heartbreaking... tormenting even. They were the most abrupt and humbling nosedive. If it were possible to die several times over and live again to suffer the pain of more deaths, then I did exactly just that. There came pain and darkness that I have never gone through before.

I hurt and lost a dear friend. In the pursuit of true love. I will always remember her as one of my crutches during darkest moments and one of my cheerleaders in my finest hour.

I never realized that true love entailed so much hard work, sacrifice and selflessness. I won the war - initially. I lost it over and over - for not wanting to give up who I am, for trying to be true to myself. The heartbreak took its toll on me. I never thought I can feel this exhausted.

I lost my Grandmother - after almost a year of courageously battling stroke, diabetes and breast cancer. 80% of who I am now is because of her. That is what I said in my eulogy. Her passing away is one of my greatest fears, my Achilles heel. Her memories never fail to bring tears. Even as I write this. Because a great part of my core is her. She is who I am.

2007, in my history, is written in blood.

It is monumental.

It is the year I finally saw clarity.

And realized my personal legend.

My destiny.

I don't have a good ending for this, because I don't know how things are going to be. Nothing is cast in stone, as Fate and the Universe both will it to be.

I sailed through the first quarter without a lot of expectations --- but I continue to hope.

Quo vadis, 2008?

I have no fucking clue.

But I got a very good feeling...

Of besties and moving away

Ian is leaving tonight for Pune, India. He’s staying there for 3 months because of a job assignment.

Ryan is leaving for Hawaii in June. 5 months Accenture stint.

Marc is fixing his papers to live and study in Europe with Thet.

Jonathan’s papers for Australia has been given a go. 11 months more and he’s leaving. For good.

Two years ago, when Jonathan announced to the guys that his Canadian papers are finally in and he’s got 4-5 months before he leaves for good, I got severely depressed. He was actually surprised by my reaction. That – coming from me – was really a pleasant surprise.

I’m no Ice Queen.

These guy besties have been around for decades. I’ve known some of them since third grade. Ian was and continues to be the pillar of strength during darkest hours.

Jonathan is the brother I never had – who will carry my drunken ass during alcoholic-mode Saturday nights. Or patiently wait until 6am for me to finally sober up from the mix of wine, beer, vodka and tequila we just had.

Ryan will convoy my car until we reach my apartment – just to make sure I get home safely – despite my insistence that I’ve already simmered down.

Marc --- will always be the source of wisdom. When he speaks, everybody listens.

Parties without them will be BLAH.

No Ian, no party place.

There are some people that you can’t just imagine leaving. Or you can’t imagine your life without them.

Although I don’t regularly see them, they’re the people in my speed dial.

I got eleven months to come to terms with one of us going away for good.

This is such a depressing Sunday morning entry.

Ugh.

Cabin Fever

The problem with staying in is the opportunity for introspection.

The problem with introspection --- is becoming soft.

Once again.

I’m not ready to be.

Not just yet.

Restless

…is an understatement.

I can’t even write properly.

My thoughts are everywhere. They’re scattered on the cold pavement. Or etched on blank, white walls.

I’m in perpetual motion. Yet inertia is consistently at my doorstep.

Sometimes, I don’t even know what I’m thinking… or feeling anymore.

But you know what?

I actually like this place.

The emotional unavailability allows me the much needed cushion.

Is this the aftermath of more than a year’s worth of unintended anguish and pain?

Probably.

My gratitude goes out to the wonderful friends who understand the hibernation, the silence, the tears without reason. Thank you for the hand-holding, for your warm embrace, for your comforting words and silent company.

You – thank you for your patience. For drying my tears, for washing my feet. For trying to be there in that space when I wasn’t. For forgiveness. For looking back.

Who knows? It can be true. There might be hope for the flowers.

Death to Sincerity

Impatience got the better of me yesterday, as I found myself in not one – but three – conversations that gave me the runaround.

These are personal conversations that ranged from seeking clarity on what the nature and definitions of friendships and relationships are to the very mundane question of where a certain friend is going.

At the end of the day, I just felt too exhausted to bother figuring things out or even asking for further discourse.

Hands-off.

I just had it. No guessing games anymore.

I’m done.

Driving home, I entertained a lot of thought bubbles in my head, again falling guilty of waxing philosophical about the trite and the trivial. Perhaps that was just it --- I shouldn’t even bother figuring out.

Until I came to my final personal resolution – it matters to me even though the rest doesn’t seem to think so. Or at the very least, they try to convince themselves that it doesn’t matter. That it’s of no importance to scratch the surface because there is nothing beneath.

Why can’t just people say what they mean?

Must we always put a façade and a game face on?

Why are we so afraid to tell someone how we feel?

Why can’t we just lay all the cards? No false fronts.

We keep on playing charades. What for? To make people wonder?

Why can’t you tell me to stay?

Why can’t you say straight-face that you don’t know who I am to you – yet I might be a friend or that missing piece of the puzzle?

Why can’t you tell me where you’re going?

Why won’t you try?

I also know the answers…

That’s why it’s frustrating. Infuriating.

I just wish we take some moment in our lives to get out of our inner circle and take some risks.

I’m afraid I’m losing chances of meeting and being with wonderful people who will make a dent --- because I’m too afraid.

And they’re too scared of me.

Reality Bites

Tinatawag na ako ng realismo.

Ilang araw na lang.

Ikaw kasi.

Sana hinintay mo na lang.

Faith. Losing It and Gaining It Back… Eventually

“It is important to accept one’s passions, and not to lose one’s enthusiasm for conquests. They are part of life, and bring joy to all who participate in them. The warrior of light never loses sight of what endures, nor of bonds forged over time. He knows how to distinguish between the transient and the enduring. There comes a moment, however, when his passions suddenly disappear.

Despite all his knowledge, he allows himself to be overwhelmed by despair: from one moment to the next, his faith is not what it was, things do not happen as he dreamed they would, tragedies occur in unfair and unexpected way, and he begins to believe that his prayers are not being heeded. He continues to pray and to attend religious services, but he cannot deceive himself; his heart does not respond as it once did, and the words seem meaningless.

At such moment, there is only one possible path to follow: keep practising. Say your prayers out of duty or fear, or for some other reason, but keep praying. Keep on, even if all seems in vain.”

The Warrior and Faith
Like the Flowing River
Paulo Coelho

This is me – who I am – at the moment. It’s perfectly written.

Friends know me as passion personified. I am comfortable chasing after the stars without having to bother about what others think. It’s my happiness, not theirs. My own personal legend.

Right now, I just live in the moment. No past, no future --- not mindful of consequences, not wanting to remember the hurt inflicted.

I lost my faith. I never imagined myself to be without something and someone I thought I cannot live without and will die without. Yet here I am.

A few scratches, bumps and bruises yet still alive.

That’s what scares me – the realization that I can live without it.

Am I losing my faith?

It’s a pity – that to find myself again, I need to lose someone.

How this will end - the answers evade me.

Allow me this respite – this comfortable silence, this rare chance of just being here – living the moment as what it is – only a moment.

Until then I will keep on praying - no matter how merely ceremonial it just is.

Until faith... and hope... both return.

Interlude: Tribute to the Firsts

In my early 20s, I promised myself to never succumb to jadedness and cynicism when I reach 30. I promised myself that I will marvel at the world in the same way that the younger version of me did.

Disappointments, heartbreak – over and over again - broken promises and the lack of integrity in what people say, however, still led me to the dreaded path of distrust and skepticism.

Gone is my naiveté.

Although most of the time, I don’t miss it, I wonder how it feels like to be able to just trust people again and take whatever they say at face value.

Yes, I want to be surprised again. I want to be a little girl who becomes wide-eyed at the sight of something so mundane and simple. I want to like someone just because they are likeable, nice and fun, without having to think if they will rip me off tomorrow or steal my soul.

I want to be “in the moment” with someone without having to think if I earn more than he does and that this will slit his ego or if he is filthy rich to buy me the world yet take me for granted.

I realized that I have heard so many lies and said so many distortions of truth myself that I either don’t believe anymore or take everything with a grain of salt.

Strolling down memory lane and wading through the cobwebs of my past, I remember how I joyfully embraced both ecstasy and anxiety of experiencing a lot of firsts.

Thus, a tribute to all the firsts in our lives…

The first time we hear a song and it moves us;

The first time we did something without our parents’ help;

The first time we set foot in a foreign land;

The first time we hear a lover’s heartbeat pound so hard because we are near them;

The first time our knees get weak and we tremble, ache, pine over someone;

The first time we are melted by his or her gaze;

The first kiss that we never wanted to end;

The first time we taste, touch, feel a new lover’s lips;

The first time we make love;

The first time we lose ourselves…

To all the firsts that we have that we can never go back to again…

May we always be grateful.

May we never forget.

No matter how jaded and cynical we become.

- A tribute to my young friends.

To P. May you be comfortable in your own skin, with who you are, no matter the pressure to socially conform. Although you may sometimes feel that you are proving yourself to everybody, the only thing that matters at night is the proof to yourself. And that you can face you in the mirror the next morning.

To E. Keep earnestness in the palm of your hands. You are beautiful. You know that you are. But I wish you can see through the façade – yours, mine and others’ – and appreciate the beauty of a soul. Say I love you only when you mean it. And find it at the most perfect of moments.

Prelude to the Four Corners

"The Persian poet Rumi once said that life is like being sent by a king to another country in order to carry out a particular task. The person sent may do a hundred other things in that other country, but if he or she fails to fulfil the particular task he or she was charged with, it is as if nothing had been done.

To the woman who looked at the road ahead of her, and knew hers would be a different journey.

To the woman who did not attempt to make light of those difficulties, but on the contrary, spoke out against them and made them clearly visible.

To the woman who made the lonely feel less alone, who fed those who hungered and thirsted for justice, who made the oppressor feel as bad as those he oppressed.

To the woman who always keeps her door open, her hands working, her feet moving,

To the woman who personifies the verses of that other Persian poet, Hafez, when he says:

Not even seven thousand years of joy can justify seven days of repression.

To the woman who is here tonight, may she be each and every one of us, may her example spread, may she still have many difficult days ahead, so that she can complete her work, so that, for the generations to come, the meaning of 'injustice' will be found only in dictionary definitions and never in the lives of human beings.

And may she travel slowly, because her pace is the pace of change, and change, real change, always takes a very long time."

For the Woman Who is All Women - written by Paulo Coelho as introduction to
Nobel Peace Prize Winner Shirin Ebadi

Not nearly close to her, yet I share the passion and that burning desire. The child's voice in me whispers, "Someday I am going to be you."

Silence brings forth both oppression and redemption.

As I let silence take charge to tyrannize me, vindication came as I slowly heard the inner voices again.

I lost my soul to the devil but gained it back. The Angels and the Universe definitely had a hand in it.

Thus, I welcomed silence in my life - for once - after a long period of its absence.

When it gave me that comforting moment and brilliant epiphanies... it was time to go back to the world of words and voices.

And so I am back here.

December 17 ---

And I am only halfway through my design project.

My team is already drowning from the deluge of design templates we have to work on.

It might take me until December 2008 to finish wrapping my Christmas presents.

I have not packed my travel stuff.

I have not done anything for my graduate thesis. And I mean ANYTHING. Not even thoroughly read my course instructions. I was on the verge of dropping my thesis subject already when Miss Lota from the admin office discouraged me. "Lahat ng students nag-i-extend for thesis. Mag-residency ka na lang next semester."

When you seem hopeless, that is music to your ears. Hallelujah!

Pinahinga mo ko nang maluwag, Miss Lota.

I have not gone to the laundromat to dry clean my "wedding dress" for Marc and Thet's wedding.

'Didn't help that I had a broken water pipe in the apartment and grounded lighting in my bathroom which I needed fixed this morning.

I'm grateful for all the things I need to do, mind you.

Unwrapped gifts mean I have a lot of friends to give them to.

Broken pipes and grounded light bulbs mean I have a warm, cozy apartment that I go home to every night.

Potentially-dropped subject means I am going to school --- one of my real passions. And that I am finally --- finally doing my thesis.

But I need more time.

Lord, thank you for all the blessings.

Pero palimos ng kaunting oras.