It's Okay To Cry

I find it amusing that after so many recent studies on human behavior, some people still think that they show themselves as strong just because they don't show grief or shed a tear during a difficult time.

I believe it actually takes more courage and maturity to show vulnerability and face the emotion we feel at a particular moment. Glossing it over and faking peppiness are telltale signs of insecurity and being emotionally crippled. The great fear of appearing weak precludes any show of sentiment or feeling, lest others see a chink in the armor.

In some respect, it is true. Holding back our emotion does show some strength. But strutting about to display it, especially when others are mourning, may show a lack of wisdom and sensitivity.

It's okay to cry, really. And if you just don't feel the grief, then it would be nice to show some respect to those who do.

Gone Home

FIL passed away today at 2:30 am after a 15-year bout with cancer. He is no longer bound by an earthly, imperfect body. He is now at rest in the arms of God whom he loved so much.

We are now headed to Florida to bury him at his chosen final resting place. It will be a difficult but necessary time to mourn our loss, and celebrate his life.

Thanks to all those who have prayed with us throughout this time.

A Difficult Week

Hubby and I have had a very draining week. FIL, who suffers from cancer, developed an infection and we had to rush him to the hospital. We got there at 10:30 pm and did not get out of there until 1 pm the next day, having spent the night at the emergency room and getting him admitted to a room. We spent the rest of the week going after work, every evening to visit and also bring food to MIL, as well as to my SIL, who was visiting from Florida at that time with her two daughters. They spent their days in the hospital. My two other SILs, who are his usual caretakers, were taking a much needed vacation when it happened. It was good for them to have a break, as well as give us a chance to be able to contribute a bit more of our time to FIL's care. They tried not to worry too much as we took over, and we just kept them updated on his condition.

After four days in the hospital, FIL showed improvement and was able to speak more, eat and sit up again. So yesterday, he was discharged and he is now back home with my SILs who have returned from their short vacation. We all breathed a sigh of relief as yet one more health hiccup is overcome.

It is so hard to see a loved one in pain. Although there is something uplifting, however sad, about seeing love in action when you witness individuals being strong and brave, and doing everything they can to ease the suffering of their loved one.

What Would You Do?

If you win the lottery, what would you do? This was a discussion that Hubby and I had once. This article made me think on it more.

Me? I would keep my mouth shut. There are already enough people in the world who try to get you to spend your money on them in one way or another. Whether your earnings are little, some or a lot, there are those that just do not value the amount of hard work you do to earn your money. People sometimes take on an attitude that it is their right to have you spend on them because, really, they need it more than you do! Imagine if they find out that you have a windfall? The more they will feel entitled to it. Whatever assistance you try to extend, will probably be never enough anyway. It is amazing how ungrateful the people you continually help become. That’s why I always try to keep in check my impulses on generosity. It is not because I’m very greedy or unwilling to share. I already do my little bit of helping here and there, and just might increase a little bit more if I had more to give. I believe that helping too much is not good either. Aside from taking your constant help for granted, there are lessons that the person you are helping might miss if they don't go through their struggle.

I am reminded of that story when someone, out of kindness, “helped” a new-born butterfly break out of its cocoon by slicing it open. The butterfly came out with a swollen body and shriveled wings. It was never able to fly. It is the struggle out of the cocoon that actually helps it to strengthen its body and allows it to spread its wings and fly. The same goes for us. I believe there’s a valuable lesson wrapped in every hardship that we go through. It’s up to us to either be bitter about it or to meet it head-on and learn as much as we can from it. If someone takes it away, we will never learn the lesson. Trials enrich our souls far better than money can enrich us financially. Nothing hones character more than adversity.

So we would do good to be wise in how we offer “help”. Yes, it's nice to get the credit and the accolade of being known as helpful and generous. I think it can become selfish because what we sometimes do is not really helping, just enabling. Enabling in a way that people remain in their stunted state, while we glory and pat ourselves in the back for being a kind and magnanimous human being.

I think God, in His infinite wisdom, has not allowed me to win the lottery. Well, it doesn’t help that I don’t really buy tickets! But if I ever do, people in really dire straits or in life and death situations will probably get help... as anonymously as I possibly could give it. That way they can put their faith in God and how He works through people, not in people or money. I don't think I will let anyone around me ever know of my windfall, save for Hubby. I think it's just much better that way, don't you think?

A Tokaya in Boston

A couple of weeks ago, I went to dinner with someone I had met through this blog. She is a namesake of mine, Filipino, a University of the Philippines alumnus, and lives in Boston, as well. With those similarities, how can we not attempt to meet in person, right? It started out when she left comments here. We started corresponding by email semi-regularly after that. I say semi-regularly because the woman has a crazy schedule! MIT is surely squeezing every drop they can out of her before they let her go.

The first time I met her was when she came to watch the show I did a few months back. We were able to chat a bit, but there were just too many people milling about to even start a real conversation. This time, we really got to sit down and probe minds. I found that we were similar in many, many ways, except in one thing. She definitely has more brains than me! She is working on her thesis, and will soon be graduating with a PhD in Chemistry from MIT. She explained to me what she does, it just went completely over my head though. :)

After a very interesting and entertaining dinner, we went around the shops in Faneuil Hall, just to do what women love to do together, chat and browse the sales. It was nice to be able to walk around with a fellow pinay, speaking Tagalog, and sharing that ridiculous pinoy sense of humor. It's just too bad that she's moving away to Indiana after her graduation. But these days, the internet can help maintain friendships that would otherwise be lost if we depended on what we now consider archaic modes of communication, the phone (those phone bills!) and snail mail. That's how I have kept in touch with all my family and friends back home, and it's also how I have met a few wonderful people such as this Tokaya of mine. The internet is an amazing thing, isn't it?

A C. S. Lewis Weekend

I'm having a Clive Staples Lewis weekend. I am listening to the musical, "The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe" that my friend, Lito composed and Trumpets put up in the Philippines for the first time in 1998. The musical is based on the C. S. Lewis story from the Chronicles of Narnia. I dug up my CD and listened to it again with fresh ears. I have always thought the music was beautiful, but could have been biased since it was my friend's creation and a Trumpets production. Listening to it now after seven years, and its music still manages to enthrall me. It also brought back so many memories for me of rehearsing and doing the musical, as well as the late hours we spent in the studio recording the CD. It was such a good musical that I hope other people get the chance to see and enjoy it. I'm praying that a producer will be interested to put up the musical here. It's timely since Disney's coming out with the movie version this December. I think doing the musical sometime after that would be a great idea.

Tumnus and Lucy in Narnia

The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe

A Trumpets Production, Manila, Philippines

Another C. S. Lewis thing I am into this weekend is his book, The Screwtape Letters. He shows the same sublte but great command of biblical truths which he did in The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe, as well as an insight into the psyche of one whose business is manipulation and temptation. He starts off by saying, "There are two equal and opposite errors into which our race can fall about the devils. One is to disbelieve in their existence. The other, is to believe, and to feel an excessive and unhealthy interest in them. They themselves are equally pleased by both errors and hail a materialist or a magician with the same delight." Its protagonists are two demons, Wormwood and his uncle, Screwtape. Through letters, Screwtape strives to teach Wormwood how to exploit all the weaknesses of this "foolish two-legged animals" called humans and keep their mind on everything except God. I find Screwtape's assessment of man as so true that it has me burst out laughing many times.

I wish I had an ounce of the talent and sense of C. S. Lewis, or the musical abilities of my friend, Lito. I often wonder how people can be so talented. And even more amazing that talent, when used for good, can affect lives in such a positive manner. C. S. Lewis died seven years before I was born, and here I am still enjoying and learning from his gifts. I have no doubt that Lito is going to leave the same kind of legacy somehow, someday. The good that we do with the talent that God gives us will always leave an imprint in someone's heart.

Turning Older

In a couple of days, I will be another year older and hopefully wiser. Bro, who shares the same birthday, asked me what I planned to do on our day. Nothing special, really. The past year has been so full of blessings that I really do not feel I need to do anything special to celebrate. I feel that the entire year has been one big celebration in itself. Also in the past few days, we have been up and about entertaining guests. It is a lot of fun but also extremely exhausting. Now, I want nothing more than to just have a quiet and restful birthday.

Last week, a friend from the Philippines arrived to spend some time with us. In the middle of her stay, Hubby's 17-year-old twin nephews arrived to spend a whole week. We have been taking them around to see the sights and just hanging out to spend time with them. It took a lot out of me to keep up with teenage energy. It brings home the reality of how old I really am!

First night, after a sumptuous dinner at the Cheesecake Factory, we took them on a walking tour from the Christian Science Center to Trinity Church in Copley Square, through Newbury St., to the Boston Public Gardens and finally, the Boston Commons to watch "Hamlet". I walk an average of half an hour daily. But that was a much longer walk than I was used to. We got home before midnight.

On Saturday, along with Hubby's other 7-year-old nephew and 5-year-old niece (who live nearby), we took them sailing during the early afternoon in the Boston Harbor, then went to the North End (Boston's Little Italy) to grab something at the famous Pizzeria Regina (est. 1926). We then proceeded to the Esplanade along the Charles River to watch the concert of the Stylistics, where we were joined by the parents of the younger children, their youngest and my other SIL. The Stylistics sounded as good as ever despite their years. It brought us all back to our special memories of that decade, judging from the nostalgic demeanor on everyone's face that evening. Again, we had a very late night and turned in at around 2:30 am.

Yesterday, we took them to Chinatown after church to sample the fare at our favorite restaurant there after church. After we all had our yummy fill, we spent the rest of the day in the Boston Commons. The kids got silly and wet at the fountains at Frog Pond. We also played soccer, volleyball, and spent time running after a new airhog plane that we had bought for one of the nephews. It got stuck in trees five times. We were able to knock it off the trees four times before. The fifth time, it flew so high that it got stuck on a thick branch of this particularly tall tree. Hubby's nephew tried to knock it off with a soccer ball. Alas, after several attempts, the ball decided to keep the plane company on one of the branches. We tried to retrieve both with big rocks until dusk, to no avail.

So one windy day, a soccer ball and a toy plane will fall into someone's hands. Hopefully, those hands will be that of a little boy who has just asked God for some toys! Hmm, I think that's going to be my birthday wish...

Credit Card Crapola

When I first set foot to live in this country a few years back, I quickly found out how important credit history is. Even subscribing to a simple cellphone service quickly taught me that with no history, no one would trust me. Before I could subscribe, they required a huge deposit. I didn't want to waste my money on putting in a huge deposit and gain no interest on it, so I thought that the next logical step was to apply for credit. But no matter where I turned to, no one would issue me one because I had no credit history. Even those institutions that sent me mail with the invitation to apply would turn me down. It was quite frustrating. How the heck do I build a history if no one was willing to take the risk and give me one??!! I even sent a letter to Standard Chartered Bank to see if they would issue me credit here since I was a founder member credit card holder in the Philippines and had history there. They sent a letter of regret saying that they are not in the business of credit cards in the US.

Finally, I just resorted to paying for a secured credit card. It was like a debit card wherein my credit limit was the amount that I had 'deposited'. The money earned no interest and the APR for purchases was ridiculously high, if you did not pay your monthly bill in full. The only advantage was, credit bureaus are not able to tell that it is secured. Through that, as well as being an authorized user on my husband's cards after we got married, I was slowly able to build my own solid history, and I eventually replaced that secured high-interest card with a few of low-interest, perk-filled, no annual fee credit cards.

Today, I scoff and thumb my nose at those companies that snubbed me before because of insufficient history. They really want my business now, it is not even funny. Our small mailbox gets stuffed with pre-approved offers daily. Today, I had three offers, a Citibank Diamond Preferred, a Chase Visa Platinum and an American Express Platinum. One even offers a free companion airline ticket! And you guessed right. Now, I get the pleasure of turning them down! Hmp!

:)

Note: To be fair to AMEX, they've treated me very, very well from the beginning. They were the only one who took a risk with me so they will have my business for a long, long time. Their Platinum program just has an expensive annual fee. A Financial Planner advised me never to pay an annual fee for a credit card. She said it was a waste of money since there are so many credit cards that offer the same without the annual fee. She's right!

Careless Words

In the heat of the moment, coupled with a desire to manipulate a situation and lash out at anybody, someone accused me today of being a gossip behind my back. People can be really careless with what goes out of their mouths at the moment of anger. They start accusing other people of stuff that they are guilty of. They suddenly project to other people what actions they might take in circumstances, not realizing that not everyone thinks and acts in the same way they do.

It just saddens me that people are so foolish as to lash out like that. They don't realize that they don't win any sympathy to their supposed plight by acting that way. They go around telling their business to everyone that listens, and they fail to realize that they themselves are the source and root of the problem.

That's what I get for being a listening ear and a sounding board at times, as well. I should really be more choosy as to whom I lend my shoulder when they're feeling down. That same person who sometimes asks for your sympathy can turn against you, the moment that you say the truth that they cannot bear to hear.

The first lesson for me is, yes, to be even more careful that anything that comes out of my mouth cannot be misconstrued as breaking confidence. The second is, to agree to be a sounding board only to people who are willing to listen to the truth and humbly receive the counsel they supposedly seek.

--oOo--

Matthew 7:6 - "Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and then turn and tear you to pieces. "

The 4th of July

In 1999, I remember seeing a photo of the fireworks above the Charles River in Boston on the front page of a major Philippine newspaper. At that moment, I remember thinking how great it must be to experience that and wishing that I could be there to see the show the following year. It was just one of those things that I quietly muttered to God as a wish and quickly forgot about. The seeming impossibility of that thing happening just made my mind brush it aside to one corner of my brain. At that moment, the possibility of me even being in the US was small to nil. (This was before the whole Disney offer, which is another wonderfully weird story.)

A year later, I found myself at the bank of the Charles River, standing with thousands of people, watching that same show. I held my M's hand (we were just dating then) as we listened to the Boston Pops playing classical music to the awesome display of pyrotechny in the sky. I realized right then and there that I was living that small wish that I had made a year before. The weird thing is, we didn't even plan on being there. M and I decided to meet in New York for his birthday and stayed with his brother, L. On the fourth, M and L just decided that we would drive to Boston to spend the 4th with their two sisters who lived there. So we left late in the afternoon, undmindful of any schedule. As we entered the Massachusetts turnpike, we saw smaller displays of fireworks going off in the distance. M then mentioned that the fireworks in the Esplanade should be starting at around 10:00 pm. So they both decided that the three of us were going to head there and try to catch a glimpse of this legendary Boston tradition.

That's how I ended up there on that night. We craned our necks to watch the 40-minute display. But as grand as the spectacle was, I could not believe how much grander God's generosity was to me. Little did M and L know how God was granting one small wish of mine through them at that particular moment. Since then, I have celebrated every 4th of July here in Boston, and I am reminded of that little wish that I made. A wish that I considered impossible and forgot about, which God deemed important enough for Him to grant to me.

Humble Pie

I guess it is an acquired taste. Some people will never go near it, and some will learn to appreciate it. Much like cod liver oil, humble pie is something we all would rather not have. It does not taste that great. However, having a dose or two once in a while keeps us from what I call ‘egotistical obesity’.

I have had more than my share of this er… beneficial treat. Mouthing off or doing things on impulse for self-aggrandizement or any other selfish motive earns me the right to have it. I have eaten my humble pie, both in private and in public. When I was younger, my Mom and family made sure I had it to keep me steady. I didn’t appreciate it then, but looking back, I am thankful that they did. Now at the end of each day, I try to see if I need a piece of it just so I can keep myself ‘fit’. Having my own personal serving also seems to keep me from indulging in public. Nonetheless, it doesn’t mean that it never happens anymore.

We should all be careful to keep sweet the words that come out of our mouths, in case we might have to eat them one day. Let us try to not be the fools that we are most of the time. The words we utter will come back to comfort or haunt us someday in the future. It comes in the form of people to whom we have spewed out quoting us, or circumstances that we have set rolling with the words we speak.

I recommend a daily dose of Humble Pie. Like many things nutritious, the more you have it, the less difficult it is to swallow. Nevertheless, it is not something one craves to have. It may never become a pleasant treat, but a regular serving is good for our soul.

------

P.S. I was going through my stats, and found someone accessing this link of a blog of mine, exactly a year ago.

http://irruminations.blogspot.com/2004/07/fools-are-proud-and-wise-are-humble.html

Both are entries on humility. What are the chances?

Am I Unpatriotic?

When I was still living in Manila, I always wondered why Filipinos would want to live anywhere else. It puzzled me why some of my friends chose to migrate. They had a good life and most of them had carved out a niche for themselves in their respective fields. I always used to say, "Why be a second-class citizen somewhere else when you're first-rate here?" I had high hopes for the Philippines. The economy seemed to be improving despite the prevalence still of graft and corruption, a legacy of the Marcos era. However, along with a growing number of people who continually made a stand, I refused to pay bribes to get around red tape and would do things the legal (and difficult) way willingly, if need be, to try and effect some change. I thought it was just a matter of time before it caught on and things improved.

Then an action star got elected President. Picture Vin Diesel winning the Presidency, only older, fatter, ugly and way less smarter. Not only that, he was corrupt, through and through. The way he ran his mayorship of a small town and his Vice Presidency proved that. When he announced that he was vying for the top seat in the land, I swore to myself that if he won, I would leave the country. I figured if someone like that won, then it made my countrymen no more than a bunch of star-struck groupies or worse, they were paid to vote or support him. Nobody in their right mind could actually believe that an action star, who didn't finish high school, can continue the decade of growth in a country that was just rising out of a 21-year plunder by a dictator and his muse.

I think God must have heard my prayer, because the month of that man's swearing in as President, I got an offer to work in the United States. I accepted. I was so disillusioned and disgruntled. I figured I'd give myself a break and try out living somewhere else, just to get away from the crazy situation that is my country. I knew it would take time for me to adjust since I was going to be completely on my own -- no family, friends, no established ties, no network, and no household help! To my surpise, I fared well. Despite missing the artistic side of my existence back home, I was glad to have a set schedule and loved being at home by nightfall. Even doing house chores which I dreaded, wasn't that bad. I found myself really relaxed despite what everyone says, that life in Manila is a picnic compared to the hard, cold life in the US. I asked myself why. I came to the conclusion that I had lived with pollution, horrendous traffic, crazy drivers, corrupt government employees and officials, etc. for so long that I had schooled myself to accept it as part of life. Living away from it though, made me realize how deeply it really bothered and burdened me.

I have now been away for six years. I believe the election of Mr. Action Star sent the Philippines on a downward spiral it hasn't recovered from since. Hearing and reading about the present Philippine political climate and all the bickering and accusations flying around, the gambling lords, the pollution, the possible economic implosion and the crime rate in the urban areas, I don't think I can handle living there again. There are so many things that I love and miss about my beautiful country. It's just so sad that it's run so badly by politicians who mostly think of self-gain. My dreams of retiring there doesn't seem to be an option. It is my homeland but unless things change drastically, I really doubt it will ever be my home again.

Morbid or Just Realistic?

What would you do if you found out you had but a short time left to live?

Hubby and I had this discussion last night. Someone dear to us continues his 15-year battle with cancer and while we rejoice over the gift of one more day each day he wins his battle, it is something that has put our own mortality in the forefront of our minds.

It occurred to me though that while his enemy is known, ours might not be revealed to us until that time comes. There’s the undiagnosed ailment, the drunk driver, the murderer, the freak accident, the natural disaster, etc. Any of these could cut our lives short. If we knew that destiny has set our end date for tomorrow, would we be happy with the things that we have done? How have we led our lives? Would we feel that we have properly spent the time that was given to us? How negatively or positively did we impact the lives of the people around us? If people recall our last utterance to them, would they say it was edifying or hurtful? Have we inspired people to live better lives or do we serve as a warning? What legacy would we leave behind? And I don’t mean in terms of money or property. That’s probably because I have neither! :)

I decided early on in my walk that I would cease every opportunity to really try and have a positive impact, even on PMS days. Whether it’s for family, friend or those who consider me their foe. I guess for each of us, there would be a share of people who would think you led a fruitful life, and a group that would think otherwise. Indeed, no one is perfect. I do hope that somehow, the ayesayers would outweigh the naysayers. But in the end, I really will only care about one. God… that He says “Aye!”

C'est Kitsch!!!

Several years back, when I would see American movies depicting people commuting to work, I wondered why people wore sneakers with their business suits. I found it totally kitschy! I decided that I would never be found doing that. But of course back then, I was working in Manila, a city where everyone drove or were 'driven' to their destination no matter how near, and people hardly walked.

Fast-forward to the new millennium --- I find myself working in Boston, a city where everyone walks and takes the train, unless you're willing to sit in traffic going into town in the morning and shell out about US$400/month for parking. Not a lot do that, as you can imagine. Since my home and work are all within walking distance of the train, I happily take it. No hassle, no traffic, no parking fees! And what do you see me wear to and from work?

***Drum Roll***

Business attire and yes, sneakers! It not only is more comfortable, it is more practical given the harsh New England winters. The first couple of years, I tried wearing my nice work shoes through winter. I found out quickly how the salt (that they spread on the road to keep from freezing) and the snow ate on my nice leather pair of shoes. Not only that, leather soles and ice is almost a surefire way of making yourself land on your butt when you're walking on icy pathways. Then, you have the cobblestoned streets and sidewalks of this old city which can really wear your soles and heels out. Moreover, pointy heels have an uncanny way of inserting itself into the small cracks in between the stones and make you suddenly do a graceful little dance.

So if you're the type who likes to invest in a nice pair of shoes for work and making it last as long as you can, then you'd have to get something else that's flat-soled, soft and comfortable to wear on your commute to and from work. It's the only way to go!

As Hubby would always jokingly say, "So what have we learned if nothing at all?" That we don't judge people unless you've been in their shoes!

:)

Mutual Admiration Society

I was checking my blog stats and was so surprised that there was a significant spike to my number of visits. I looked at the referring page and sure enough, it was again the doing of Melissa (or AnP, to her thousands of readers). A lot of the Pinayexpat "faithful" were nice enough to drop by. Curious, I guess, to see what kind of friends she had.

It was a couple of weeks ago when Melissa and I were dissecting our friendship, and how it has survived all these years despite personal pursuits that took us to different paths. And yet each time we find each other, we pick up right where we left off and resume our little mutual admiration society. She and I are poles apart and yet we regard each other highly and enjoy our differences. We agreed that it must be because we gravitate towards people who have healthy self-confidence. Something we were both fortunate to have our parents instill in us. I guess that even at a young age, we both tired of "friends" who had nothing better to do than compare themselves to us or to talk behind our backs. I almost fell into that trap as there was a time when I was unwise in the company I chose to keep. But like her, I have a wise mother who put an end to that by encouraging me to be myself, and not to be too bothered about what these people say to me or about me.

I have found myself bonding more with people who share the same self-acceptance and assurance. They all are, in one way or another, more talented or smarter than me, and I am not fazed. Not only do I learn from them, but there is no insecurity or any ridiculous competition. Someone once made a comment that I was being snooty. I found that puzzling because my close friends come from all kinds of backgrounds. I even have those kinds of friendships where the person seems to need me more than they really care for me. I am only called when there's trouble brewing. I really don't mind being a "stormy-weather" friend but it does prevent the friendship from going any deeper.

However, I do have my truest friends who all have that incredible self-esteem, tempered with honesty and humility. That, plus a lot of respect make for that special friendship that is mutually satisfying...the kind that never fades, no matter the years nor the circumstance.

To my friends... Ano ba yan? 'Eto na naman tayo! Masyado tayong nagmamahalan!

Of Firsts and the Force

Week One
It was a crazy first week in my new job. I had about three days to absorb what my predecessor was trying to turn over to me. What's more, we ran into some road blocks as I was not yet set up technically in the corporate server so I could not fully sink my teeth into what I was supposed to learn and do. On top of that, I seem to have come in during the week where events were at fever-pitch so it left me kind of breathless. I was assured that it is not always like that. Whew!

Year One
Where did time go? I looked at my entries and realized that I've been blogging for a year. It certainly hasn't felt that long and yet the proof is all there. Just look to the left! Not only that, some people have deemed my writing worth "publishing". Now how's that for a surprise? One entry of mine has appeared in a newsletter for Habitat for Humanity (circulation 1,500) and a friend invited me to be a part of her online magazine called PINOYexpats, to which I have contributed a few articles. I don't know how long I can keep this con going, but I'll try for as long as I can! :)

The Force
Star Wars' final episode hits the screen. Hubby called me Friday after work and informed me that we were going to the 5:40 pm show. I told him I had to work a bit late and asked if there was a later show. He said they were all sold out. Since I knew that he wanted to go see it badly, I told him to go ahead and I will meet him after the show. "Okay!" he said. Not much convincing needed there! I was chuckling as I put the phone down. We usually watch everything together. Although if the situation were reversed, I probably would have done the same thing. When I met him after the show, he was grinning like a cheshire cat who's just had a meal. It was too cute!

My Last Week

It was crazy--
Job turnovers are never easy, especially when you only have a couple of days to do it.

It was tedious--
I stayed late every day of the week making sure I left no loose ends, and I still had some unfinished stuff that I needed to leave on to my successor.

It was wearying--
People tend to pile things on your desk that you are asked to "please try to do before you go."

It was expensive--
I got myself something nice from our jewelry company before I lost my right to the great employee discount.

It was sad--
It's hard to say goodbye to people you really like working with.

It was funny--
People were just playfully putting on a show of how sad they were to see me leave. I told them to try acting if they ever got laid off.

It was fattening--
I was invited out to lunch all week and told to order whatever I wanted.

It was bittersweet--
The London staff sent me a beautiful bouquet of flowers to say goodbye. It got me all choked up.

It was revealing--
You never really know how much you're appreciated and liked until you're about to leave.

It's exciting--
I'm always excited when I am on the verge of a new chapter in life. Change, though sometimes unnerving, has always brought me a new understanding of myself and how God is working on me. I decided early in life, no matter how much fear I have, to try not to shrink away from change. Whether it's a step back or a step forward, I say a prayer, coach my attitude, clench my teeth and meet change head on. So it's first day for me on Monday. Ready, get set, GO!

Moving On

Last Monday, I gave in my two-weeks' notice. The stunned look on my boss' face made me feel bad. After letting it sink in, he seemed to snap out of it and magnanimously told me that if it was for a better opportunity, then he would be happy for me. I assured him it was. It was an offer too good to refuse, I said. He then congratulated me with a wistful smile, reminding me that it is not his way to hinder people's advancement of themselves. As the reality of the situation became more apparent in the following days, I have been subject to some ribbing and roasting about my inevitable departure.

Leaving a job that you like, with people that you enjoy working with, is sad no matter how green the next pasture is to which you are moving. I work for a family-oriented, community-focused financial firm of about 160 people. It's probably one of the most laid-back financial firms I have ever seen. Different people, even ones that I did not expect, have been dropping by my office this whole week, telling me how sad they are to see me go. It reminded me what I liked best about this company, the humility and warmth of the people. Of course, some had this expression saying "contact" as they found out which division of the company for which I would be working. I don't mind.

So in a week's time, I will be working in a 160-people division, in a company of 175,000. It boggles my mind. So far, the ones I have met during the whole hiring process have been super, top to bottom. I hope it continues to be that way as I go along. I hope and I pray!

Don't You Hate It When...

-Pedestrians cross the street when it says "Don't Walk", and they take their sweet time doing it like they're walking in the park. (Bostonians do that all the time!)

-After a long day, you're in the train and someone beside you is on the cellphone talking so loudly that the entire car can hear him/her?

-People wear backpacks, forget that they are and whack you when they carelessly turn in a crowded place?

-Going up the stairs, people ahead of you swing their arms when they're carrying an umbrella?

-People overtake you when walking and then slow down? This applies to driving too.

-You receive a complicated excel file which is not properly formatted with pre-set page breaks and you have to print it out in readable form?

-People touch your computer screen and leave their fingerprints on it?

-People throw things just anywhere without bothering to find a trash can?

-People toss their cigarettes (again, just anywhere) when they're done smoking without extinguishing it?

-People don't let you finish talking before they butt in?

Finally...

"Your application to remove your conditional status has been GRANTED."

That's what the letter from the US Citizenship and Immigration Services said. I got it a couple of weeks ago after we got back from our vacation. I was quite surprised because I was still supposed to undergo one last interview. I even got a letter in July last year saying that they would soon be notifying me of my interview schedule. I am guessing that they took so long in processing my petition that they just probably decided to skip the interview and grant it. It took two years!

I know someone who applied to remove conditional status six months after me, got interviewed and granted permanent residency about six months later. He's from Scotland and I am from the Philippines. Hubby and I think that was probably a big factor, with the southern tip of the Philippines being a breeding ground for terrorists and all. I guess they can't be too careful. What do you think? :)

---

I saw this news piece in the Today show about a mother calling 911 because her two daughters, a 12-year-old and a 14-year-old, were fighting. She didn't want to step in because one of her daughters is supposedly bigger and stronger than her. The operator said, "And what do you want us to do, go over there and shoot her?" I was outraged. Not necessarily at the operator, although what he said was really unprofessional, but that the woman would use the emergency line because she had no control over her own kids. Police resources should be used for more urgent matters, not to settle family squabbles. It just reinforced my belief that when people are expecting a child, they should be made to undergo a seminar on child-rearing. I just see so many parents whose only qualification on being one is the ability to procreate, because you see how out-of-control their kids are. On the other hand, the government has also made it impossible for parents to enforce discipline on their kids because of their fear of being accused of child abuse. Therefore, you really can't blame the parents completely either. So who to call when your kids are out of control? The government -- 911.

Changing of the Guards

I am a witness to three "changing of the guards" in the Papacy. Two of them happened in short successions that there were three Popes in 1978. Paul VI died that year, succeeded by John Paul I, who succumbed to a heart attack a little more than a month later, and was succeeded by John Paul II. Studying in a Catholic school, we were made aware of the whole process. We were given lectures and educational comic books on how someone ascends to become the Supreme Pontiff.

First-
When Pope Paul I (Albino Luciani), was elected, he initially refused to sit on the Sedia Gestatoria (portable Papal Throne) until he was convinced that the faithful were offered a better view of him if he were on it. He was also the first to refuse the pomp and ceremony of the millennium-old traditional crowning ceremony. He was the reluctant Pope, who disliked pomp and emphasized humility. He was a reformist who gave an indication that there would be a few changes in the Catholic Church, one of them being the Church's position on contraception. Alas, 33 days later he died of heart failure. The one that he predicted would succeed him, did. He called him "the foreigner". His name was John Paul II (Karol Wojtyla), the first non-Italian Pope in 455 years.

Second-
Right after he was named Pope, our Religion teacher inundated us with literature on Pope John Paul II. The church's PR machine wasted no time in letting the faithful know who their vicar was. We studied his life from his childhood in Poland to his ascent to the supreme position in the Catholic Church. I think it was also done to prepare the Filipino nation for the scheduled Papal visit in 1980. One of his first stops was a big park called Quezon City Circle, a couple of miles from where I lived. My family made our way there to hear the papal address. I remember being perched on my Dad's shoulder waving to the Pope on stage, several feet away. I liked to imagine then that when he waved right back, it was to me, and not to the sea of people that were all around me. I no longer go to the Catholic Church for my spiritual feeding and I may have some views that are quite different from the Pope's, but I still have a a fondness and respect for him.

Third-
As many mourn, they also wait in bated breath for that white smoke to come out of that chimney. It signifies the election of a new pope. Whoever it turns out to be will have his work cut out for him. Karol Wojtyla seems like a tough act to follow.

What's Up With That?

I don't understand this country. They fervently fight to make capital punishment for convicted criminals as painless and humane as possible, so they came up with lethal injection. However, they will let an upstanding person, whom they say are in a vegetative state (although this is still in argument) and can't feed and fend for herself, die of thirst and starvation.

http://www.cnn.com/2005/LAW/03/24/schiavo/index.html

http://www.terrisfight.net/

Without a written will, how can we be sure 'beyond reasonable doubt' that what she wanted was to be starved to death now that she is what society calls "useless"?

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Today is my Dad's birthday. According to his driver's license, he would have been seventy-two. He died of heart failure the day before New Year's eve in 2002.

To his friends and colleagues, he was this noted journalist and political analyst who was not afraid to voice his opinion on the current state of affairs in the Philippines. To me, he was Daddy, whose chest I loved resting on while he did his crossword puzzles in bed. I was Daddy's girl, at least until the day he left. I was only 12.

From then on, it was hard to reconcile the father I knew who was loving and gentle in every way (even in the way he disciplined us), to the man who chose to leave us rather than try to rebuild our family and cohabitate with another woman. I know now that relationships are complicated and rebuilding a marriage is easier said than done with two very imperfect people.

In my view, my father led a less-than-ideal life. After such a promising start, I don't think he ever lived up to his fullest potential due to the few poor choices he made during mid-life. Nevertheless, my father had qualities that I unconsciously honed in me throughout the years I was growing up. As I sought to forgive him bit by bit, the way he came through any conversations I had with him, whether pleasant or serious, made a deep impression on me. His patient and calm demeanor, his very gentle and affectionate ways, the respect he accorded, and the thoughtful and quiet way he would opine and inquire in conversations, never overbearing or pushy.

Dad was no saint, and I am not going to be dishonest and say that he was, just because he's passed on. There were many things that he did that disappointed us. But he is my father and I do love him, warts and all. No matter what mistakes he did, he's contributed largely to who and the way I am today. My brother told me once that I am like him in many ways. It made me smile. I liked hearing that. I really did.

Happy Birthday, Dad.

Modern Chain Letters

I have come across chain letters since I was in grade school. I received a number of them from friends throughout my primary and secondary years in school. It would come in the form of a supposed prayer to a favorite saint who will readily grant you the first thing you wish for. There were conditions though. You had to copy that letter ten or twenty times and pass it on to friends. This seems like an easy enough task, but then personal computers did not exist back then. You had to handwrite everything, one by one. Also, it came with a curse. It stated that if you failed to do it, something bad will happen to you and/or your loved ones. It outlined many instances of people who supposedly had their wishes granted after complying, and tragedies that occurred to people who refused to believe in the letter. Gullible as I was, I remember suffering many 'handaches' then trying to make 20 copies and distribute them to prevent any bad luck for me and my family.

Today, I continually receive the modern, electronic versions of these pesky little letters. It is now made more annoying as those who forward it have unwittingly advertised your email address to spammers. We all should know by now that forwarded messages are the spammers' way to glean email addresses for marketing purposes. So not only do you get a curse on your head when you receive these things, your inbox gets crammed with junk email selling cheaper prescription drugs in Canada, porn site invitations, and worse, you can get a computer virus. There is also the more sinister 'phishing' emails that pose as a legitimate businesses trying to get your bank/credit card information. So you can actually put your friends and family in a bad situation if you do it!

So please, folks, think before you click on 'Forward'. Don't believe everything you receive. A lot of those emails are hoaxes, and you can check at www.snopes.com ! If you really feel it is something you must forward (really hilarious jokes or truly important information that can help), do the blind carbon copy option so everyone's email addresses are hidden.

"Huh? What the...?!"

That was the reaction of some people during my performance last Sunday. Right before the show's overture, I was quietly whispering the lyrics of my song to myself and then I got stuck. I was having a major brain fart. For the life of me, I could not remember one line. I panicked but could not do anything as I heard the opening notes. I thought that, surely, memory would kick in at the precise moment and take over. I had two numbers to go through before it got to my song and I couldn't stress about it, lest I ruin my other lines in the first two numbers. So I went through the first two numbers with as much chutzpah as the role called for, without a hitch. My song came next. It started out fine but in the middle of it, my mind went blank. In my panic, my mouth just threw out a line that matched with the melody. That's good, right? Well, not really. Because it wasn't my line but someone else's, and it totally threw off the next three lines I was singing. I did not let my expression waver one bit. I calmly switched to the right lyrics the first moment I could. The funny thing is, I had mistakenly sung two verses that were supposed to be sung later, so I had to sing it again at the right time. As I sang (and prayed), my mind tried to frantically paraphrase so the audience wouldn't go, "Hmmm, she said that already!". Boy, can our brains multi-task or what?! Anyway, let's just say I am not as good as Audie Gemora at making up lyrics on the spot. I tried but failed miserably. I just tried to dazzle the audience with my belting ability (naks naman!) so they would not notice. I think the hardest thing after that was keeping a straight face. I was furious at myself for having a gaffe like that. At the same time, I wanted to burst out laughing at the stupidity of what I had just uttered.

Oh, did I mention that there was a critic in the audience? Wunnerful. Just wunnerful.

I, Me, My and Myself

"I am the center of the universe and everyone else revolves around me."

This must be the daily mantra of some people. They live totally for themselves and take whatever they can get from people around them.

When in need, they do not hesitate to demand for help. Notice, I did not say "ask". They actually make you feel like you owe it to them. In contrast, when they are asked for any help or favor, they try every ruse to avoid extending themselves in any way. When all excuses are exhausted, they make you go through the wringer and a whole lecture before they grudgingly give in to any request, no matter if you are asking the favor on someone else's behalf. What's more, they make sure that the 'help' they extend is rubbed in and never forgotten. I guess it's very seldom that they do something for others that they think they deserve a ticker-tape parade when it happens. It amazes me how anyone can morph into that kind of human being. What kind of nurturing have they had for them to turn out so darn selfish?

No, I haven't had any recent incidents that I have to vent about it here now. I'm just stating an observation on behavior that I have witnessed a few times. It makes me wonder how a person can live that way. It must not be a very happy existence.

Fame and Notoriety

A few weeks back, Hubby and I were listening to the news as usual before we left for work. Two of the biggest figures of pop in the early 80's are once again hogging the music headlines. As a teenager in that decade, I was an avid listener to both Michael Jackson and Prince's music. Both were the most notable acts in their niche in pop. Michael Jackson kept a wholesome image despite his fame and gargantuan pop idol status, while Prince had a huge following and was notorious for his edgy and risqué music. Today, Prince, who is making quite a comeback and is the biggest moneymaker of the year, has shown a more mellow side, while Michael Jackson, the wholesome boy, has become this unrecognizable, seemingly androgynous creature that resembles a wax figure and is in the headlines because he has been slapped yet again with another child molestation suit.

Eventhough I loved his music, Prince used to scare me a bit. He seemed like this lascivious (based on the double entendres in his songs) deviant that was headed for the deep end. I guess it was some sort of a phase or maybe his media packaging because now, he is as normal as a pop artist can be in the volatile world that is showbusiness. Who would have thought that twenty years later it was going to be Michael Jackson who would turn freaky?

Applause and Woohoos

I guess I looked like death warmed over yesterday. I had missed work the previous day but came to work to meet some deadlines. My boss told me, "It's going to be slow tomorrow. I'm serious, why don't you take the day off and get well?" He said it again right before I went home. So today, I decided to stay home and rest, physically and mentally preparing myself for the shows this weekend starting tonight.

Last weekend's run went very well. We had our best show thus far on Saturday night. The high energy of the cast and the great enthusiasm of the audience made for a highly-charged evening. The cast gave their all, and the audience lapped it up. They were reacting to everything, and crying and laughing at all the right moments. It was also the night that most of my 'posse' came to watch, so I had an extra warm round of applause and a lot of 'woohoos' when my turn to bow came along. Among those in the audience were M's family, a former roommate, some friends from my office, M's officemates, and a couple of friends from Manila. My friend, Mia, who was part of the German cast of this same show, flew in. She claims to be my biggest fan (right...) and wanted to see me perform. It was also a chance for her to reminisce when she played 'Gigi', which is the same role I was doing. A lot of the cast members were aware that she was coming and were quite pleased to meet her. She really enjoyed the show, as did everyone else that I know who came. Of course, Mia and I stayed up talking until 3:30 am just dissecting the Gigi character and discussing the show. It was fun, at least for us. M fell asleep!

It was a really enjoyable weekend. For an artist, there's nothing like doing a good show and a bunch of people that you love watching you perform in it. It is very special moment.

...And We're Open!

Opening weekend went quite well. In fact, it was so much better than we had hoped for, in terms of attendance and feedback. We knew we had a good show but were unsure of how people would react to a minimalist staging of a big show. Even some of the critics were pretty wary at first, but we have gotten great reviews so far. The only comments that we have had were about a mic not working properly for one actor, and a piece of set that a reviewer thought was crucial to a scene.

The next show is on Thursday but there is a forecast for a snowstorm. If we are fortunate, the storm will not be that bad and the show will go on. After the encouraging response, all of us are raring to go back there on stage and improve on an already 'good' show!

Here's hoping for an even better weekend.

:)

Break A Leg!

Well, this is it, folks! My theatrical debut in the United States happens today. It is community theatre, but is similar in many ways to my experience in Philippine professional theatre. Of course, the main difference is budget. But this theatre group, no matter how small has not balked in taking on a huge show, and it has done everything it could within its limitations. All the actors receive is a small stipend, but personally, I consider the experience really worthwhile and valuable, especially in terms of the new friends I have made. There's nothing like a bunch of people working together to try and put out something beautiful, for the love of the art.

Two and a half months of hard work, braving winter weather to attend rehearsals until late at night culminates tonight. Our show opens at 8:00 pm and will run for the next six weekends. Yes, I am nervous, not for me necessarily, but for the whole show. I want it to turn out as best as a big show in a little theatre possibly could. Pray for us!

Break a leg!!!

A Nice Nor'easter Welcome!

Hubby and I really enjoyed our recent vacation. The fact that we got hit by a Nor'easter (a New England term for Blizzard) the moment we got back to Boston made us regret coming home even more. Over two feet of snow were dumped on us. It's like Mother Nature rubbing in reality and saying, "Welcome home, kiddos!" Looking out from your window after a blizzard is quite an experience as every single thing is covered in this nice, white, fluffy snow. It makes you want to go out and make snowangels and snowmen. Having to dig your way out afterwards, however, is not a pleasant experience. All this typical northeastern weather made us revisit our fresh San Francisco memories again and again.

Each time I go to San Francisco, it just affirms my predilection for it over any other city in the United States. We had a great time in the city and seeing the sites around it, as well. We did the usual, Union Square, Coit Tower, Lombard Street, Fisherman's Wharf/Pier 39 and Ghirardelli Square. We had a nightcap at buzzling University Avenue in Palo Alto, dinner and coffee in Cupertino (Apple's headquarters) in South Bay, and walked through the streets on the coast of Sausalito. We went to Monterey to see its breathtaking shoreline along the 17-Mile Drive, all the way to Carmel-by-the-Sea. The seascape was made all the more captivating as it was lined with different rock formations and countless Cypress Trees. We even spotted a whale frolicking in the distant waters, spouting water high into the air from its blowhole. It's the kind of sight that makes you glad to be alive.

We also made sure we visited Muir Woods, a national monument where you can find California Redwoods and Sequoias. We wandered inside the forest preserve in awe as we saw huge redwoods that were as wide as we were tall. Some trees were so huge that you can camp in a hollow part of its trunk. There was a cluster of trees where they commemorated the creation of the United Nations, and even ones that dated back to the American Revolution. Just thinking about that made us feel so finite. These trees have been there hundreds of years before we were born, and will remain there long after we die. They have witnessed events that we only read about in books. They have gone through the changes this world constantly brings upon its inhabitants. I imagined the different generations of people that have walked under its branches, whether to camp, to forage and hunt, or to pass through on their way to some distant destination. And here we were in the new year of 2005, walking the same paths those people of old walked. What an indescribable feeling that is. Even nicer that I have the company of Hubby who shares the same appreciation for such things. I love traveling with him.

Uh-oh, the weather forecast predicts another snowstorm. Back to my cold reality!

My Very First Friend

Hubby and I arrived via the red-eye this morning from our little trek to San Francisco. We had been invited to a wedding and decided that we might was well turn it into a mini-vacation while we were there.

The wedding was that of my very first friend. We were playmates from when we were about two or three years old, as our families had moved to the same neighborhood at around the same time. We were inseparable! Our families were close as well and we went on vacations together a couple of times. We spent a lot of after-school hours and summers together playing indoor and outdoor games (patintero, taguan (hide-n-seek), chato, agawan-base), yakking, role-playing, doing things that ranged from the silly to the gross. Then when we were ten, our friendship, as we knew it, ended abruptly when her family moved away from the Philippines for good. Both of us were left in the dark about the move until after the fact. It left a deep disappointment in both our hearts that we never got to properly say goodbye. We remained quite close through letters until we were about fourteen. By then, I imagine that teenage life took over and left us both with no time to write. We lost touch. I had often wondered about her through the years but I had lost her address and I had moved. When the internet era dawned, I tried to search for her periodically but it never turned up anything solid. Around November 2003, it hit me that I should be looking her father up instead of her as there was no way that he would change his name. Besides, I thought that he was probably the sort of person who would be listed in the phone book. So I hit the anywho.com website and voila, there was the number. I made that phone call and it started a chain reaction that led me to my long lost friend. We practically picked up from where we left off and started talking almost every day online. We caught up on how our lives went from when we last saw each other, to sharing everything that was taking place in the present, including her engagement five months later, to the planning of the details of her wedding and honeymoon. It culminated in our physical reunion last Saturday, a little over a year after we started talking and twenty-five years after we last saw each other. My first sight was of her walking down the aisle with her dad, in all her bridal glory. Her face is as pretty as I remembered but gone was the little, scrawny body I knew. She filled her gorgeous gown beautifully and was every bit the picture of a radiant bride. Our tearful reunion came later on when she was done with all the formalities of the wedding ceremony, and we were in the less structured atmosphere of the wedding reception. Her hubby and mine hit it off as well, although they had heard of each other before, as my friend and I constantly exchanged stories and photos in the year that we were doing catch up. The wedding was beautiful and we had the greatest time. It was made even more memorable because of our special circumstances. We even got the chance to squeeze in a dinner with them before they hied off to their honeymoon in the Philippines and Japan.

To Vic and Dan, the very best wishes from M and I for an incredible honeymoon and a long life together of unending blessings.

More later on the rest of the vacation...stay tuned!

Attitude

Two years ago, I worked for a foremost and well-respected design company. It was part of my job to write, compile and send out a summary of our notable projects to international clients. In my research, I came across a project that one of our teams undertook for 2002. It was the design of the memorial for the headquarters of TJX (TJ Maxx) in memory of their seven employees that perished in the 9/11 attacks. The husband of one employee came upon a book that she was reading before her death. It was a book by Charles Swindoll, and his wife had bookmarked a particular page which contained a passage that she loved. It left such a deep impression on him that he decided to have it inscribed in her memorial. This is what it says:

ATTITUDE
by Charles Swindoll

The longer I live, the more I realize the impact of attitude on life. Attitude, to me, is more important than facts. It is more important than the past, than education, than money, than circumstances, than failures, than successes, than what other people think or say or do. It is more important than appearance, giftedness or skill. It will make or break a company, a church, a home. The remarkable thing is we have a choice every day regarding the attitude we embrace for that day. We cannot change our past. We cannot change the fact that people will act in a certain way. We cannot change the inevitable. The only thing we can do is play on the one string we have, and that is our attitude. I am convinced that life is 10% what happens to me and 90% how I react to it. And so it is with you. We are in charge of our attitudes.

I have read some books by Charles Swindoll and found his writings to be extremely inspiring. I never came across this particular piece of writing until then. The beauty and the truth of it struck me so hard that I transcribed it, and shared it to everyone I knew via email. It is something I try to remember every single day from the very first day I read it.

Now that 2005 is upon us, I reflect on it once again, praying that no matter what the year brings to me and my family, that we will continue to let these words, and the strength of our faith, translate freely into our lives.

A Dew On A Blade Of Grass

I'm still trying to take in the events that have happened in the past week in Asia. The Tsunami death toll of 116,000 is staggering and is still climbing. That's not counting the people who died or will die of the disease that breaks out because of the unsanitary conditions in the affected areas. I can only think of it as a modern-day "Black Death". Also called the Bubonic plague, its death toll was estimated to be over 23 million. It killed an average of 6,300 people per day as it swept from Asia into Europe in a span of a decade. The difference is, all this happened in a few hours.

I feel helpless as I watch the people in their heartbreak and loss. Their lives have been changed drastically in a moment, its effects remaining with them for a very long time. We, however, could go back to living the moment we switch off the television or step away from the computer.

It, along with my father's second death anniversary today, makes me think of my own mortality and of those whom I love. I read a quote about how life is like a morning dew perched on the tip of a blade of grass. It either falls off or dissipates in the heat of the morning sun. Indeed, life is short. We never know when our tsunami will come. And when it does, how much imprint did we leave in the hearts of the people we have encountered? How many of the things we did actually made a difference in our lives and of those around us? How many of the things we considered important really are, in the light of God and eternity?

Have a safe and happy New Year, everyone! This coming year, be kinder, hug tighter, love stronger and pray harder. Those are deeds we will never regret doing.

Bah Humbug?

The day after Thanksgiving, I usually have my Christmas shopping done and all my greeting cards mailed out. This year, I seem to have lost my steam. Working during the day and going to rehearsals at night has taken its toll and we are just too exhausted to do anything. We even decided against getting a tree. Just thinking about the energy we have to expend in putting it up, decorating it and then taking it down and disposing of it after the holiday season was just too much.

A couple of nights ago, late after rehearsals, I decided to decorate a pre-baked Gingerbread House, just to wind down and also get me into the spirit of the holidays. I also bought some scented pine cones to give the place that Christmas scent, in the absence of a real pine tree. It seems to be having some effect on me as gift-wrapping is now halfway, albeit half-heartedly, done. I have half a mind to just give the gifts in their boxes, as is. We're pretty excited to give them as they're pretty good gifts that will stand even without the gay wrapping. Why wrap them so they can be torn away a few hours later? Besides, what's important is the gift and not the wrapping, right? And ultimately it is said that what's more important is the thought.

I would be happy with just that actually. I really do appreciate it, and most of the time wished they remained as they are, at least when it comes to me. I loathe to think that people spend their hard-earned money for something that almost always just gathers dust in cupboards. Let's face it, a lot of us have everything we need and a lot of the gifts that we get are "icing". Since I don't care much for most "icing", I really wish people would put their money to better use, maybe donate it to a charity.

I know I'm sounding like an idealist again but sometimes I look at a particular thing that I see in a cabinet that was given to me, wonder how much it cost and think what that money could have done for a child who needed that amount to be able to purchase his school supplies, or a poor and sick person whose medical needs are not being completely met for lack of funds, or a family who cannot even enjoy a nice, decent meal together. Pushing aside all that stuff, one can also consider how that little amount can grow if you put it in a child's college savings account.

I just think that we have all fallen victim to the ploy that retailers have made the Holidays to be, one big commercial event designed to suck out everything that's in our wallets! How many families actually make it a ritual or tradition to sit down and commemorate the story behind the celebration of Christmas or the events that led to Hannukah? How many actually bow their heads together in gratitude for all the blessings that we have? How many of us make sure that we share with the less fortunate before we start celebrating?

I know I need to do more. And that's something I need to ponder as I try to finish my gift-wrapping.

Nice Earrings!

"Nice earrings!" exclaimed one guy as we were both getting off the train. I said "Thanks," and walked away trying my very best to hide my puzzled expression. No, my earrings weren't big at all. In fact, they were just your usual-sized diamond studs that a lot of women wear here. Either the 3 C's (cut, clarity & color) of my earrings really impressed him (right...) , or it was one of the funniest pick-up line I have ever heard. I guess I should be glad he didn't say "Nice blouse!" It comforts me that he was looking above my neckline - not that there's much to look at anyway. I called hubby at work after, to ask him what that was all about. He started chuckling and told me that he had overheard the guy telling me that as I left the train.

One time after work, I was walking out of my office building. This guy falls in step beside me and says, "Hi, Neighbor!" My first thought was this was certainly not Mr. Rogers as this was not his neighborhood. I turned to see this unfamiliar face. I smiled politely and asked, "Oh, we live near each other?" And he said, "No, I work in the building next to yours!" and gave me this huge smile. I almost burst out laughing but kept a cordial demeanor, found a way to excuse myself from the conversation and fall behind as we walked to the subway stop.

Another was, "¿Habla Español?" I said no. Still, I was subjected to a mostly one-sided conversation, in English, until I reached the subway stop. ¡Que Barbaridad!

If those pick-up lines were anything to go by, I am glad I am not a single person living in Boston. For a university town, you kind of expect people to have better lines than that!

A Real Trouper

Hubby's been such an extremely good sport. Before I joined this show I'm doing, I asked him if he would be willing to come with me to rehearsals so I would not have to travel alone. He readily agreed and said that it would be a great experience for me. He has made good on his word and accompanies me to every single rehearsal. He seems to be enjoying the process of the entire thing and seeing the show slowly take shape. I know that he is really tired sometimes after work, but he gamely goes with me still. He has not complained one bit considering our rehearsals are four times a week. He says he's quite happy acting as my personal assistant, i.e. carrying my bag and accompanying me home, and takes pleasure in seeing me do what I love. What a sweetheart he is! And no, he's by no means a stage husband as he never interferes or makes demands. It's such a blessing to have someone who is secure with himself and not feel 'upstaged' at all by anything I do. I have seen relationships suffer and break because the partner is insecure and does not understand an artist's life or is threatened by it. Those of you who know me personally know exactly what I mean!

;)

Hubby accepts and loves me for who I am, morning look or not. He delights in my silly and weird ways, and takes pride in that. I know he'll be quite embarrassed when he reads this. But this is one small way I can show him that I am thankful I have him in my life.

:)

Oh, To Scratch An Itch!

Last night, I had a blast! It had been so long since I last sat down in a room full of talented singers as we figured out the melodies and treatment for the musical we are doing. Maybe few will understand it, but to someone like me, sitting there and hearing all these beautiful voices piping in on their cue, with the music director pounding on the piano keys is sheer pleasure. Some may not realize how much work goes into staging a musical. Months of working out the music, the harmony, the choreography and the nuances that go with the role you play as actors spend time together and play off each other. The journey to the finished product is long and difficult, but the experience and memories gained are inestimable.

You know how when you finally scratch an itch that's been bugging you? I have felt that itch for a long time but done other things to dull it. Last night, after five long years, I have finally started to scratch it. At least that's how it felt for me.

:)

Boiling Over

It finally won. The mild cold that I've been fighting for a couple of weeks has overcome my system and I officially have a very bad cold. The worse thing is, everytime I get a bad cold, it's like my system goes on overdrive and goes wild churning out histamines to fight off anything that it thinks might be an enemy. Thus, I get the double-whammy, cold and allergy. That, plus hormones that are going crazy and you get one tangled mess of female nerves.

Today at work, it boiled over and I found myself sobbing over something I would normally shrug off. I surprised even myself at how weepy I was over something that I usually shake off like water off a duck's back. I made a conscious effort to pull myself together. I called Hubby to help me do just that and he had me chuckling with him after a few minutes.

I used to think that PMS was a very convenient way for women to act like brats and bi-atches. I do not suffer from extreme moodswings too often. I consider myself fortunate. I'm sure hubby feels the same way too!

Getting My Feet Wet

A local theatre group was auditioning for their next musical slated for February. So I decided to swallow all the fear and apprehension I have had, snap out of my lazy stupor and 'get my feet wet' in the New England theatre scene. I could not make the regular audition as I was on a trip to Florida so I inquired about doing a late audition. They asked me to send in my photo and resumé and I was informed that if they failed to cast the roles during the first set of auditions, they would give me a call. On my last day in Florida, I got a call from the show's Director and she invited me to audition the following Tuesday.

Tuesday came and I was wired. I was also a bit feverish and it was probably due to the cold I had been fighting. Either that or, it was my fear manifesting itself. It's been years since I set foot in a theatre to do a vocal and dance audition. I didn't know if I still had it in me. I decided to toss all those feelings heavenward and just go. I am always in the opinion that things will always turn out as they should when you leave it in God's hands. What matters is I do my best with what I had been given at that moment.

Hubby and I arrived at the place and found it to be a charming little 200-seat playhouse that resembled a small lodge. It was very cozy and intimate and we immediately felt comfortable. I filled out a form and did the vocal auditions not long after. I was asked to sing my two audition songs and a song from the show itself. I could see by the look on Hubby's face that I was doing well despite my cold and lack of practice. We were then asked to move to the theatre proper to do the dance audition. The butterflies in my stomach started dancing long before I did and I tried to work them off by doing warm-ups. My muscles were as stiff as a starched dress shirt. Not only did I think that I was rusty in this area, I thought my jazz skills were pretty corroded. Having to memorize eight 8's of a dance routine in a snap is something I haven't done in a long while. Thank God that the Dance Captain was so nice and patient. By some miracle, I managed to pull it off. Again, the huge smile Hubby was giving me told me that it went well. M has never seen me do a dance audition and he admitted to being pleasantly surprised at what he saw. He's never seen me dance except in a goofy way or when I'm aping someone who can't dance. Yes, we've hit the dance floor in some parties, but that really can't be used as an indication at all.

Before we left the theatre, I was formally invited to join the cast. I was thrilled! M and I discussed it overnight and I accepted the next day. 'Getting my feet wet' during winter might not be the best idea but I have put this off long enough. It's definitely going to be a gruelling four months but very well worth the experience, I'm sure. I just pray for a mild winter season!

The Long Weekend in Orlando

Hubby and I just spent a long, warm, and fun weekend in Orlando. We thankfully left as the temperatures in Boston dropped to freezing. As usual with all our travels, our schedule was so crazy, it was tighter than Joan River's face. We went from seeing family, to getting ready for my cousin Jessica's wedding rehearsal, to the wedding itself, to trying to squeeze in some time to spend the day in the Disney parks to see the newer attractions, and to see M's niece play the role of Jasmine in the show, 'Fantasmic!'

I flew to Orlando a day ahead of M because I needed to rehearse with the pianist the songs I was going to sing in the ceremony. In the plane, I happened to sit in a row with an old snoot of a lady who refused to even acknowledge my presence. I usually get a smile or a nod from the person with whom I share a row, especially if we're both travelling alone. She was sitting by the window and I was by the aisle while the middle seat remained empty. When the flight attendant came to get our used cups, I offered to reach for her cup in order to give it to the flight attendant. She ignored me completely and raised her hand higher to avoid my hand. Later during the flight, I sneezed once and covered my face completely when I did. She quickly covered her nose and mouth, and a few seconds later, reached inside her bag and took out a surgical mask and wore it for the rest of the flight! She even bumped me out of the way with no apologies while I was reaching for my bag in the overhead compartment. I chalked it up to her probably having a bad day but on our way out of the plane, she chirped pleasantries to the flight crew. I guess it was me she did not like. Despite my 'Boston' look of blouse, short wool skirt, tights and knee high boots, she probably saw me as the short-lived stereotype of a diseased, SARS-infested Asian. It was all quite amusing. I was so tempted to fake a sneeze again while we were waiting in the aisle for everyone to disembark just to see her squirm. However, I decided I didn't want to waste my energy even for the pleasure of being mean to someone who is totally rude.

The wedding was beautiful. The only snafu for me was that the pianist played a higher key of 'Ave Maria' than we had rehearsed, and I was already singing a high Celine Dion version. I was caught a bit off-guard and didn't do as well as I hoped. I was thankful that the great acoustics in the St. James Cathedral and the pipe organ mostly hid the strain that I knew my vocal chords were experiencing. The second song 'Grow Old With Me' went much better. The reception afterwards was as well-planned as the ceremony and was a lot of fun. I have been to countless weddings as I have been invited either as a guest or to sing. They ranged from the nice and simple ones to the most lavish. I would rank this one high on my list of favorites. It was well-thought out, simple and classy, quite lavish yet not excessive or gaudy. The family went all-out and spared no expense. The food was nothing short of the best, the filet mignon was cooked, or should I say, undercooked to perfection and the champagne and wine flowed freely. Their only daughter was getting married and she deserved no less, not because she was one of those spoiled brats, but simply because she is this genuinely nice, warm, very wise and pleasant human being, and she was marrying this equally nice boy who was her high school sweetheart and passed all the criteria of my Aunt and Uncle, that is, Filipino, of good family, Catholic and Republican. :) Congratulations Jessica and Joe!

We spent our last day hitting the Disney Parks. We hopped from Animal Kingdom, to Epcot to try Mission Space, and finally to Disney-MGM Studios to watch 'Fantasmic!'. I waxed nostalgic and remembered my days as one of the Mouse's workerbees in the International Exchange Program. I've been to many theme parks and there is no other park that really does it the way Disney does - the cleanliness, the guest service and the way they make everyone's experience as fun and memorable as possible. Just spending the day there made me want to move back to Florida and work for the Mouse again.

Lazy Saturday

Blog-Hopping
Today was pretty much another lazy day. After hubby brought my usual Saturday breakfast-in-bed, I went online and just started blog hopping, while hubby read his PC World beside me on his computer. While he perused geek stuff, I played voyeur, looking through a keyhole into other people's lives.

How varied and different people's views on the world are! And if you read on, you may find a clue or two on how those views were shaped by the circumstances and influences in their lives. You find blogs that are funny or serious commentaries on current events, story-telling, life journals that can match any soap operas or telenovelas, you will find ones that drip with so much hate and anger that it leaves a sick feeling in your stomach, and ones that obviously cry for help it makes you tear up.

It evoked so many kinds of emotions that it left me a bit tired by midday. And I hadn't even stepped out of my bedroom!

Vocal Stress
I also spent the afternoon bugging my poor neighbors and rehearsing my songs for my cousin's wedding on Friday. I have been honored with the invitation to sing in her wedding ceremony at the St. James Cathedral in Orlando. I have long neglected to do my vocal exercises since I no longer am an active performing artist, and now my vocal chords are exhausted! What's worse is, I have this mild cold that might just turn worse. I used to have extremely sturdy vocal chords. I never needed much warm up before any concert or musical, and still have my voice intact after a couple of hours of performance. I never followed the "no cold drinks" rule and survived unscathed. Now, I can really feel the stress after a couple of hours of rehearsing, and I feel wary enough to shun anything too hot or too cold for fear of damaging my voice before Friday. With some precautions and a lot of prayers, I hope to be able to render my songs without embarrassing myself.

Habichat
Justin from Habitat for Humanity stumbled across my blog about my volunteer experience. A couple of weeks ago, he emailed me to ask if they could reprint my article in their newsletter. It's a 2-4 page publication that is circulated to their offices in the US and worldwide. I was happy to have the privilege to share my thoughts to help a great cause. Yesterday, they printed it and sent me a copy of their newsletter. :)

PINOYexpats
Soon, the next issue of PINOYexpats will go live. We've cooked up something sumptuous so don't forget to visit the site to check it out!

Bon weekend to all!

Long Nights

The clock fell back an hour on Sunday. I was quite happy to gain an hour but my body clock is still on old time. This, combined with the ALCS and World Series late nights and now the election, I probably have a sleep debt of two days. I've been needing that caffeine kick the past three mornings just to rev me up. It must also be because the nights are now much longer, and that has a way of affecting our psyche.

I'm sure John Kerry, George Bush and their cronies have had a long night too. The final results have been slow to materialize these past two elections. This is new to the United States since they usually have the results of the election by the end of election day with one candidate conceding and another giving a magnanimous and reconciliatory victory speech. I've always found that amazing. Where I come from, the final election results takes weeks to a month. That's because everything is counted manually after everyone has put in their votes in padlocked ballot boxes, which are only to be opened after voting is officially over and the official count starts.

Crowds gather for what they hoped to be a Kerry Victory Rally in Copley Square on election night. (AP Photo)

Anyway, both the Democrats and the Republicans were ready to hold their victory or concession rallies last night. People here in Boston had gathered in Copley Square on what was to be John Kerry's Victory Rally. Morning came but the results did not. At around mid-day, Kerry called Bush to concede. The trends assured Bush of the win, by both popular and electoral votes.

I'm glad the election is over. I can only take so much mud-slinging, political arguments and lies...

...which they call 'spin' these days. Oh, and liars are now 'spin-doctors'...

*Sigh*

A spin is a lie and spin-doctors are liars. We should go back to calling something by its name, rather than using a more 'politically correct' word. Our world will be so much better if we stopped lying to ourselves so much.

Hmmm, must be the caffeine kicking in. :)

Believing Is Seeing!

Happiness in the Hub

If you are a baseball fan, you have surely heard that the Boston Red Sox finally won the World Series after an 86-year wait. And that's not for lack of trying. Some people have actually waited their whole lifetime to see this happen. And last night, at long last, their dream came true.

It's a good time to be in Boston. Everyone's in a celebratory mood although they don't quite know what to do. Red Sox Nation has been so used to 86 years of disappointment that they don't know how to handle their long-awaited triumph. There was an initial spark of revelry right after the game. It lasted until the players flew home in the morning and made an appearance in Fenway Park. After that, it seemed everyone went on 'low-battery'. People have been staying up late to watch the World Series and cheer on the team and now that they've won, there's not much energy left. I have no doubt that people are just trying to catch up on their sleep to prepare for the big celebration on Saturday.

To some, it may just be a sport. To Red Sox fans, it is the realization of a faith they held on to for decades. It is a story that inspires all fans and non-fans alike. It inspires us to never give up our dream or belief, no matter how the odds are seemingly stacked against us. It teaches us to go on, no matter how many times we fail. It just goes to show that we cannot give up, even if we've failed 86 times before. Believing in the impossible made a bunch of self-confessed "idiots" World Series Champions. So never stop believing. Indeed, believing is seeing!

The Karate Kids

The Fearsome Threesome came fresh from Karate class the night we dropped by to visit. They were in their kimonos and proudly wearing their karate belts. We asked them to show us their moves and they gladly put on a show. Here are some action shots of the three B kids in their martial arts poses...

B-1 Kenobi and B-3 PO

Notice the Power Ranger influence.

B2-D2

Strutting her stuff (Dig the yellow belt?)

Yankees, So Who's Your 'Papi' Now?

In my four years in Boston, the one thing I can say about New Englanders is that they are the ultimate sports fans. It's quite fascinating to me how loyal they are despite circumstances. All the more fascinating since I am not a sports fan. The only sports I ever played were volleyball and badminton, and both aren't big here. But walking by any sports bar during football and baseball season is quite an experience. The euphoria that unleashes everytime the home team scores radiates into the streets and envelopes any passersby. It makes me smile seeing so many people so happy. And to me, the scene is so 'Americana'.

In my first year here, I was asked what I thought about the possibility of the Patriots going to the Superbowl. "Who?" I asked. The reaction was quite amusing. It would be the same kind of look one would receive if they said they were Republican here in Massachusetts. It didn't help that the girl I was talking to was engaged to someone who worked for the New England Patriots.

So just to see what the hoopla was all about, I watched the Superbowl and saw the Pats, then the underdogs, win. I always enjoy it when underdogs win. I think it makes victory sweeter. It was the same reaction I had when I watched the last four games of the American League Championship Series (ALCS) when the Boston Red Sox faced the NY Yankees to see who goes to the World Series.

The Red Sox had lost the first 3 games in the best of 7. Everyone was saying that the Yankees had it in the bag, especially since the Red Sox had not advanced to the World Series since 1986 and never won it since 1918. It was 3-0. When I heard that, I decided to watch Game 4. The underdog seemed to be in deep trouble, and this I certainly didn't want to miss. Not that I wanted to see them lose, but in case they decided to go against insurmountable odds, and triumph over seemingly certain defeat, I wanted to witness it. There's nothing like witnessing a moment like that as it happens. And it did! They won the next four games, in heart-stopping, nail-biting, history-making fashion. One New York newspaper's headline was "Hell Freezes Over". I think they summed that up pretty well. Haha!

The World Series starts tomorrow. The last couple of weeks, I kept saying that the curse of the Bambino will lift on its 100th anniversary. It just seems more romantic that way. But after seeing all the drama that unfolded in the last few days, I say that now is certainly a good time as any.

Home Improvement

On Saturday afternoon, Hubby decided we were going to do a virtual renovation. All these months, I've borrowed one of Blogger's templates. I wanted to design my own but the last time I attempted html was seven years ago, doing my very first webpage. Knowing how involved it was for a non-expert, I decided to just work with Blogger's freebies in the meantime. M's decision to give my blog a new home was very welcome. He is very comfortable with html and uses it with ease.

M and I put our heads together, brainstorming and designing. He put me to work with Adobe Photoshop creating what we needed, and he worked on the html coding constructing, in virtuality, the blog site's 'floor plan and blueprint.'

So welcome to my blog's new home. I hope you like the new look as much as we do. :) It's still a work-in-progress. It's not perfect and still might undergo some changes. Please make yourself at home. Someone's got to be in the housewarming. :)

Piano Prodigy In The Making

She just turned four last April, yet so early in her life she exhibits such talent. M's adorable little niece has displayed this aptitude to learn just about anything. But above everything else, there seems to be emerging, a remarkable musical ability. It started out at around age two, with her inventing songs about her grandmother, aunt, parents, and her brothers. The songs always expressed either her love for them or a story about them. It never was just the two-note or two-chord songs. It would always have a wide range of notes, complete with pianissimos to crescendos.

About a year ago, her seven-year old brother started piano lessons. Ever since then, we would find her from time to time, sitting in front of the piano trying out the keys. Lately, she has taken to playing with both hands at the same time. It is definitely not the thoughtless pounding that most kids do when their hands are on a piano. Hers is a sweet thoughtful melody with both hands playing, creating music that complement each other.

Last weekend, she had made a song that she had entitled, "Missing Building". :) She had a whole prologue explaining the story behind the title which I hadn't heard because I was preoccupied with something else. We asked her to perform it, so she sits herself in front of the piano and starts playing. We were surprised at what was flowing out of the fingers of a musically untrained four-year-old. It had a sad and melancholic feel to it. She ends it quite dramatically on the lowest note and lets her finger stay there until the sound faded. She then turns to us with a smile, and basks in our praise and applause. M, wanting to record the song, asks her to repeat the last part. She gamely turns around, repeats the ending down to the last note and finishes with flourish. We were stunned as it confirmed to us that it was not some random hitting of the piano keys, but an actual thought-out composition.

At the moment, she is enrolled in jazz, tap and karate. She is also supposed to start guitar lessons with the guitar that M & I bought her. However, I believe that my sister-in-law has a piano prodigy in the making. She knows she needs to hone that raw talent and bring her before a piano teacher soon!

Mang Duliong

I was walking home today and I passed a construction site. The smell of sawdust brought back a fond memory. A memory of a man who used to come and work for us every summer during my childhood. His name was Duliong. Everyone called him 'Mang Duliong'. Back home, 'Mang' is a title of respect used with the first name of a man.

Mang Duliong was a carpenter, but I came to think of him as our carpenter. He would periodically come to our house, mostly during the summer, looking for work. He was old, thin, toothless and bent but he always had a ready smile. He wore a shirt that looked like it needed washing and a pair of pants that had seen better days, with a rope as a belt. His worn feet were adorned by equally worn slippers. My mom would always welcome him and find things for him to fix or make when he came to visit. He would stay for several days to a couple of months, depending on how long the work took. As kids, we were used to having guests and unexpected visitors, but Mang Duliong we always welcomed with delight. We loved to watch him repair and make things. During our breaks from playing, we hung around the garage and prodded him with questions endlessly. He was not very talkative but tried to gently field every one of them.

He made my first bed. It was white, with a high headboard, footboard and fancy railings on half of each side. He built our fence and our gates. He even rebuilt our garage. When I got tired of my 'little girl' bed, he made me and my brother matching headboards that had neat compartments and drawers. Yes, he was old but years of hard labor had kept him strong. At nights, he would relax by buying himself 'Shoktong'. I never saw anyone else drink that but apparently it was Chinese wine. He would sing, "Happy, happy all the time, drinking Chinese wine..." And we would always laugh and sing along with him. He had become a sort of a fixture during our summers. Mom would offer him used clothes that were in great condition. My Mom fondly chuckled when he refused a pair of flare pants because it was demodé! The 'in' thing then were the tapered legs cut. The man was fashion conscious! When his work was done, he would pack up. We were always sorry to see him leave. But he would always pick up his tools and move on, like a nomad, until the following year brought him back to us again.

Only years after did I find out that during his younger days, Mang Duliong used to work for my grandfather in his sugar plantation in Bacolod. He and his wife, Pining, were workers who lived in the farm so he practically saw my Mom grow up. Because of his carpentry skills, he and his family were transferred to Manila when my grandfather bought a property for my Mom after she got married. His daughter, Teresita, even became the nanny of one of my brothers. From then on, even when he was no longer under my grandfather's employ, he managed to find my Mom wherever she lived, and would show up at her doorsteps looking for seasonal work. That's how the whole routine stayed for years, so he saw me and my brothers grow up too. He seemed to consider us his family.

One year, he failed to come. And the next, and after that. We could not ask after him as we did not have a telephone number. Where he lived, there were no phones. I doubt they had proper addresses either where he came from, probably just unpaved roads and landmarks like trees and hills to refer to the direction of a person's dwelling. We longed to know how he was and what his circumstances were. We made up reasons for his absence, but deep inside we knew the inevitable had happened. He was, after all, a very old man.

I still think of him through the years. I wonder about him, how he spent his last days and how he died. I regret not getting to know him more. I regret not asking him about my Mom's childhood and adolescence. I regret not asking more about his family. I regret not knowing where he lived so we could have gone looking for him when he did not show up. I regret not being able to thank him for everything that he did for us and for being that strong and quiet presence in our lives, even as he caused a ruckus with his hammer and saw. I never had a photo, but I will never forget his face. I haven't heard his voice in decades, but I will never forget him singing that happy song. Salamat, Mang Duliong! Thank you for enriching my life!

PINOYexpats.org

Finally, it has launched!

PINOYexpats is an e-zine for Filipino migrants in Europe and I had the privilege of being invited to contribute. Check it out! It's full of articles and anecdotes. My article is entitled "My Yurrupean Trek" and appears on the 'Stop-over' column.

Congratulations, Melissa! The birthday of your brainchild finally arrived!