2012 is here

2008. 2012. Four years.

Four years since I last put down thoughts on this wee space.

It's been awhile since I last tried to write a blog entry. I don't know what stops me or what hinders me from making a go of it like I used to in these very pages.

Age catching up. Jadedness? A misplaced sense of protecting one's privacy? In the facebook and tweeter age that sounds utterly anachronistic.

I have tried maintaining other blogs. For a time, I was active in multiply until I wasn't. Then there are my attempts at a wordpress account using my real name no less. But it still doesn't feel quite right.

Maybe, I need to go back to where it really started. Where I took roots, so to speak.

Hello, blogspot.

Chasing calm

Can we just stop and stay still for a moment or two?

Can we not reconfigure our lives just yet? I just want to be still and not be buffeted by all these constant, seemingly inevitable changes that seem to define our lives now.

I don’t know what I have been feeling lately but there is a certain sadness lingering about me. I don’t know if it’s me mourning as I finally say goodbye to the last vestiges of my childhood. Ayayayay. And so early in the morning yet.

I have just recovered from really hectic three months that involved me juggling work, school, family and friends. The funny thing was I never even realized that I was so busy and haggard until that Sunday after my finals. When I told my friend El about my finals, all she said was “Grabe, Earnest, Galing. Naitawid mo rin yun.” To which Buddy agreed when I told him later that night.

So anyway, now that sem break is here I am feeling sad naman. Ano burr? Is this how it feels after an adrenaline rush? No wonder speed junkies would rather drink downers to sleep off the descent from their 'highness.'

So I saw Zach Braff’s movie, The Last Kiss, last Saturday and it made me think about the process of growing up. Zach plays 29-year old Michael whose girlfriend of three years has announced is 3 pregnant. At a friend’s wedding, he met a 19-year old, college student, Kim (played by Rachel Bilson). Anyway, as much as Michael’s life is progressing well, he feels as though everything is planned out and finds his life a bit boring and thinks he's in a permanent crisis and hooking up with Kim is starting to look like a good idea, never mind the consequences.

The act of growing up, while it does not come overnight, is a conscious decision, I’ve come to accept. We really decide on our own: This is it, you say. I am no longer a child. I can no longer blame my parents or my childhood circumstances for the mess or state I am in. From hereon, it’s me and me all the way. It sounds so final, no? In a way, it is. There’ll be times and moments when you can be free and behave irresponsibly. But they are just moments, sooner or later you’ll get zapped into the current reality.

Ay, I have lots of free time and this is what I end up thinking? Ok, this time, I blame Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows for making me feel this introspective. Sigh.

it's back

from xkcd.com

because no matter how crappy the world can get, there is always love to look forward to.

Do not force the issue

lately, I've been noticing that I'm not much of a chika girl as I used to be.

I remember when I was younger, parang I had this mission to befriend just about everyone. In HS, aside from my core barkada, i had friends who were in the higher levels. I had theater friends. Then there's the sports-minded ones. Of course, i had my church-based pals. One time, i also hang out with this particular group of girls. One day, one of them asked another "Kabaro ba natin sha?" The reply was: "Di tsong. Sumasama lang sa atin."

This continued in my college days and the years after graduation.

Lately, however, I've noticed that I'm more inward-looking. I don't think I'm turning into a snob but it's more like I'm more focused on myself. For example, I don't have a need to befriend everyone in a new setting. These days, I'd much rather we do what needs to be done and if we become friends later on, well that's a good thing. But of course, i am still my usual pleasant self. I still strive to accommodate other people's quirks (and i hope they do the same thing with my own). I still pride myself as a team player. Pero hindi ko na pina-project na maging kaibigan talaga lahat ng makilala ko.

Dati-rati, sumasama ang loob ko pag napansin ko na hindi na ako kasama sa isang circle kasi nag-iba na ang direksyon ng buhay ko. I have learned now that we were never friends to start with. It's just that the circumstances forced us to work/hang out together. When you're younger, you tend to equate regular togetherness for friendship.

Now, I'm not insecure or burdened anymore if i'm not buddy-buddies with everyone around me. Friendship, I learned is not something you force. It happens when it happens.

As a parent, I am learning that there are certain questions and statements that I rather dread hearing from my kid. It’s not that it makes me queasy and uncomfortable; I somehow pride myself in being able and prepared to answer (or parry, as the context requires) any question that has come my way. It's just that these are indications that my child is slowly learning about some of the awful truths that makes up life as we know it.

And one of them was stated this morning, a few minutes after I woke up. Her hair tied up in two adorable, short pony tails, Veda approached me and said “Ma, me mga stories pala na hindi happy ending.” She then went on to tell me the synopsis of the last episode of the ABS-CBN telenovela “Maria Flordeluna.” Something about a cliff and the protagonist dying and how even if it was sad that she died, the story also ended on a hopeful note because a baby was born.

She’s turning six in a couple of days. Much as I know that this is a truth that I can’t shield her from, I just want her to believe that all stories end in happy endings just a tad longer.

sometimes it snows in april

Sometimes, you have to look behind you to move ahead. No matter how much you try to set aside the past in favor of the present, it catches up with you sooner or later. In cases like these, sometimes, the only thing to do is to become the daughter you never were.

rise and fall

I am gearing up for that rollercoaster ride called job hunting. This means scouring the Sunday papers, asking/bugging friends to send whatever job opening that they stumble upon my way and of course polishing ye olde resume.

Funny thing is, I actually feel good tweaking my resume. In three pages or less, you get a clear picture of where you have been and a somehow more concrete view of where you wanna go. Ang galing nga, e. In the past I had some misgivings about my ‘career trajectory.’ I remember this professor who interviewed me during the application process for my masters in sociology. He said, ‘you have a very inconsistent resume. You jump from one type to another.’ At that time I thought, it was because I was still trying to figure out what I want to do when I grow up.

Less than a decade later, I find that all my work experiences and the skills, values and strategies I learned from them are important components of the field I want to specialize in. They don’t look so ungainly anymore. In fact, they look so coordinated (in my eyes at least).

Writing a cover letter is a different story altogether. Where tweaking one’s resume gives rise to a sense of accomplishment, writing the cover letter is some sort of a rude awakening. It’s like “sure, you have all these and that but you still have to convince TPTB to give you the job let alone include you in their short list.” Selling myself - whether it's a personal essay, a short blurb to accompany an article - has always caused me some anxiety. This time around though, I am more comfortable. A big part of that is probably due to the loads of self-describing blog entries I have written here. Navel-gazing has its benefits.

Sunday

So, tomorrow, I’m headed to the precinct to vote. I haven’t been really minding the ongoing election campaign (save to rant when I hear Zubiri’s stupid, stupid jingle. Yes, Indi it is a relief not to be here during election fee-vah). I have, however been thinking about my possible senatoriables and so far I only have about 6 or so. Akbayan is definitely getting my vote for party list.

Walden Bello, one of the fielded candidates of Akbayan, has a website. Ang galing ng testimonials niya – from Noam Chomsky to Naomi Klein to Tado! Hahaha fantastic! (Thanks Len, for the tip)

Walden Bello used to be my teacher in one of my then-masters sociology classes. At that time, I didn’t know him at all except that he was a really good teacher who is often out of the country. But, oh how he made up for those absences. When he’s in front of our class, the air was vibrant with learning and knowledge; I was in a heightened state of learning and was just captivated by Mr. Bello’s intelligence and insight. It was from him that I began to truly understand the lopsided world economic state and how if we ever hope to come up with a real equitable and just global economy, we need to dismantle current structures starting with the WTO. Heady, heady class discussions or rather lectures. Back then, I was thinking, if I ever will have an affair with a much older man, it would be Walden Bello. Hahahaha

A few years later, I came across Mr. Belo in San Mig, El Pueblo during one of the Fete dela Musique events. I was the stage manager for the jazz stage and he happens to be inside my venue. Naturally, I had to approach him and nervously, I held out my hand for a handshake, introducing myself as a former student of his. I told him my name but I could see that no matter how much he jogged his memory, he can’t remember me. Ahahaha. But that’s alright; I wasn’t much of star pupil then (kahit naman ngayon, e).

I am glad that he’s running. Doubly glad that given the ranking of Akbayan in the latest surveys, he’s a shoo-in. Akbayan’s ranking (second) is also something to be happy and proud about. Many of the identified oppositionist party lists were hemmed in by the lack of funds. Government funds due them were held back on flimsy excuses. Despite this setback, Akbayan forged on with friends and supporters to come up with activities to raise much needed campaign funds. A friend who works for Akbayan willingly mortgaged her mother’s house just to be able to keep the campaign afloat. My good friend, El also made an AVP for them gratis while Aimee did her part by holding a fundraising event in Portland, Oregon.

--\--@

Happy mother’s day to everyone! Despite some reserve about the growing consumerism, you cannot deny that it is a special day. Especially when you are greeted first thing in the morning with this sight:

And receive text messages from friends far and wide, including from:

Caring: maligayang araw, magagandang ngiti sa mga nanay na di lamang mga duyan ang patuloy na inuugoy, kundi pati mga isip, puso, kiliti’t diwa’y inaaruga.

El: “My mother wanted me to be her wings, to fly as she never quite had the courage to do. I love her for that. I love that she wanted to give birth to her own wings.” – Erica Jong. Happy Mother’s Day.

Parang birthday ang pakiramdam :)

Made of what?

Indi posted a thinker in her blog today.

I followed the link to Momus' Click Opera and this quoted text from Ronald Inglehart' Culture Shift in Advanced Industrial Society struck me:

"Inglehart's thesis, restated repeatedly throughout the book, is that a gradual but steady and profound shift has been occurring in the basic values of the mass publics of the more advanced industrial societies. The shift is away from the long predominant preoccupation with material well-being and physical security and toward greater concern for the quality of life, more self-expression, greater sexual freedom, and interpersonal relations that are less formal."

Indi and I have had numerous conversations about the merits and advantages of favoring quality of life over material aspirations (within our/my context mas mananatiling aspirational ito than actual possesions, hahaha). Just three weeks ago, we had this YM conversation:

cocobeans12000: alam mo theory ako, (naks, i read tom wolfe's i am charlotte simmons and there's this group of student intellectuals who are forever forming theories in the hope that one of these will be the one that catapults them to fame)
yinyoung: ah ooo. student careeristas
yinyoung: they wanna be the next chomsky or chuva
cocobeans12000: i have this theory about the expectations of this age. parang since we have all these technology and time-saving devices coupled with the fact that we're forever bombarded by consumerism and we're somehow obliged to display everything we own including the kitchen sink, parang unti-unting namamatay tayo inside
cocobeans12000: para na tayong automated na habol ng habol sa next big thing, i mean even the travels which are supposed to revive us have become hobbesian, pagalingan sa pictures, patalbugan sa kung sino ang nauna, pataasan ng ihi sa kung ano ang authentic
yinyoung: competitive chorva
cocobeans12000: ewan ba, tapos parang kailangan lagi kang nasa uso pagdating sa mga tech advancements
cocobeans12000: correct
yinyoung: its da kano
yinyoung: eyyy try wiki-pedia-ing "affluenza"
cocobeans12000: mismo. i've read about that before

I have this childhood friend who seems pre-occupied with ‘making’ it, not that i judge her or anything. Iba lang talaga ang perspectives namin. we seldom see each other due to our busy lives but I remember this one gimmick a few years ago and I found out that our other dear friend is already at the top echelon of her company – one of the biggest in the country. Turning towards me, she remarked “I’m happy for her. She’s already made.”

That got me thinking about what that means, especially in these times. Momus writes a lot about Slow Life (a Japanese-led lifestyle movement which aims to “pursue satisfaction and quality of life, with comfort rather than economic and material prosperity”) and it is inspiring. It fits in so neatly with this passage quoted by Momus from Yu Dan's book, a modern adaptation of Confucian philosophy which has become a surprise hit within the economic-miracle nation that is China.

"Just because you have a successful career does not necessarily mean you have made your dreams come true," writes Yu Dan. She tells the story of three field mice preparing for winter. "One gathered food, one built shelter and the third did nothing but play. Winter came and there was plenty to eat but nothing to do inside the hideaway. That was when the third mouse made himself valuable by telling stories from his days of fun and games."

Thanks, Inds for that lovely blog entry. I initially started this out as a comment in your page, but look at that hahaha.

left, right

I am old. I have seen so many things, been to so many places, witness to so much drama, real and otherwise. As much as I try to fight it, jadedness creeps in or at least its half sister “been there, been that” takes a semi-permanent spot on my side of the bed. And so without knowing it, I have begun to look at the world through this lens, to filter the sound- and landscape through these somewhat world-weary glasses.

At this point, there are only very few people who downright fascinate me. Although, I’m still outgoing and still prefer the company of people to being at home curled up in front of the TV or reading a book, the truth of the matter is, I find myself wishing more for the latter. Big pronouncements come my way and I can only muster enough interest and excitement to ask at least three questions about it. Boredom? I don't know. Conceit? Maybe.

I will admit this: I have a love-hate relationship with blogging – writing and reading. Hate it, because sometimes I can’t take the inanity, the pettiness, the vanity that almost always accompany each blog, mine included. half the time I, myself see this blog as more of a vanity project than anything. Love it, because, many, many times, and despite my jadedness and conceit, I get a glimpse of what it means to be human, to be vulnerable and strong, to be frustrated and hopeful, to admit defeat and still have the will to move on.

Just now, I stumbled upon a piece of internet property, a former home of a young friend. And as I read her entries and gaze at the lovely, original artworks that accompany her words, artworks and words written and made at a point in time when I have yet to meet her, I can feel a different sort of respect bloom in me. And I am amazed with what she had to say, with how she handled the hurt that came really early on in her life and how she articulated these feelings. And how this other persona resides in her which is so different from how I know her. It gives me some inkling as to why she is able to capture her subject’s intrinsic emotions in her work.

I guess what I’m saying is that, on those days when the pendulum swings to the hate side, I should not dismiss the people behind the blogs. No matter how much we pour ourselves into these virtual pages, no matter how much we aim to be honest and truthful in our blogs, the thing is no one can ever, ever know who we really are, least of all here in the internets.

*artwork nicked from boingboing circa 2004

road trip, anyone?

Just came from a short road trip to partake at Gibo’s mom’s 70th birthday in his brand, spanking new home in Cavite. There’s something about being on the road, on the move, just seeing the scenery pass you by while you listen to the voice of Aimee Mann cautioning a new acquaintance not to pick on her when “an act of kindness could be deathly.”

Listening to music and being on the road has always been a twin pleasure for me. Even my one-hour-each-way commute to my most recent place of employment was made enjoyable by my trusty Zen player. The murky waters of Pasig took on an almost van gogh-ish sheen as i looked from the train on my way home.

I remember solo trips I made just to visit friends in La Union and Baguio. With my battered walkman and an ample supply of batteries and cassette tapes, being on the road felt like home. I would imagine situations where the bus would suddenly lose a tire or heavens forbid get hijacked. After a brief check at the levels of my walkman’s energy juice and a quick grope for my reading material and cross stitch stash, I heave a sigh of relief knowing I’d be able to survive the ordeal no matter if it extends beyond a day.

Right now, I’m listening to Wilco’s new album, Sky Blue Sky and I have this sudden urge to be on the move. It’s like the music is more magical that way. Naalala ko tuloy, several years ago when I was still driving. One of my best moments was driving (carefully) Buddy’s gray box type while listening to Pulp Fiction’s soundtrack. Badass!

paranoia factory

So here’s the problem with taking a break from doing things.

You eventually hit the point where you begin to feel as if you’re being left behind. By what? By anything; by everything you can ever imagine (except of course in the household/child rearing department, although that is still debatable) even if you were/still are fully aware of the reasons why you decided to take a break in the first place.

Where does this root from – these self-doubts? Why is that, in these times, it’s almost considered a professional suicide if you took a leave of absence from work for more than three months (sabihan niyo lang kung OA ang assessment ko). It’s as if the acceptable amount is somewhere between two weeks to one month and a half. Otherwise, you’d be left behind; you’re wasting time not to mention the fact that you need to explain this gap to your prospective employer.

Just recently I attended this meeting. During the introduction part, someone, about three persons to my left introduced herself as such: I am ____. I am a writer. I am currently hibernating and I’m happy to be doing so. Two things struck me: I’m glad she’s taking a break (I know how it feels) but at the same time I felt that she need not add the last thought. It just felt like she needed to justify her decision to take it easy. Then again, I maybe over reading or probably projecting my own thoughts; it still made me pause.

To make a long story short, I’ve been feeling a bit restless lately although I have yet to make a serious dive into the wanted ads (if you know of any openings, please feel free to send the announcements my way). Truth be told, I’m enjoying my vacation but at the same time I feel guilty about not being out there, slogging it out with fellow commuters, logging in hours in my own wee space at an air-conditioned office. But I know, my days are numbered (para namang preso) and I need to be out there soon – my mind is starting to look for it and so is my pocket, let me not kid myself. Money or as my little girl would say it while scrounging for coins in her favorite video game: budget, is one of the main work motivators. If it weren’t for our serious need for money (and the gratification that a job well done brings us, sige na nga hahaha), we’d be all taking breaks incessantly, especially in this scorching heat!

But seriously, bakit ganoon? Why do we (meaning I) feel guilty about taking longer breaks than the prescribed norm? Is it really a waste of time to spend longer time on one’s self? Alam ko mahirap ang buhay lalo na sa Pilipinas and I can totally understand how a lot cannot afford the luxury of taking breaks or let alone the barest of luxuries. But what about the others who can? Ang sisipag, I swear!

Hahaha i just realized, if any prospective employer read this, I'd come across as tamad. Hindi ah. I just know the value of taking care of one's mind and body and that means living and resting well which in turn translates to working well (artesian?).

Good Golly Mr Cary

...you are always dead on.

Go back with what you found. New York is your home. It's where you are known and understood. If you walk around strangers too long you get strange. You get estranged from yourself. They don't understand who you really are. They haven't seen what you have seen. It is a struggle to make them understand.

--Mr. Tennis, salon.com

@---\---

There was loneliness, there was forgotten happiness, there was sorrow and despair.

begin rant

Context. Always context. There are some things that are better understood when seen within its proper context. And there are people who understand exactly where you’re coming from and where you intend to go and who are willing to hold your hand as you navigate your way towards whatever future you’re slowly evolving.

I read an article once before that states that man’s downfall is his adherence to being consistent. Like if he said something in a debate or an argument a few days ago, even though he never really believed it at that time (perhaps he just needed to have a position on the matter at hand), chances are he’d stick by that ‘truth’ a few days later, because he needs to be consistent. Otherwise, he’d be labeled as, oh, I don’t know inconsistent.

Is it really that bad? Being inconsistent? I mean we have so many emotions and feelings that run through us during any given hour. Must we always be consistent? What’s wrong about contradicting one’s self every so often? I think it’s when we try to stick to one truth or one version of the truth that we become inert, dogmatic, static.

Beware of becoming a fair-weathered friend. Something has to be said also about just being a fair-weathered friend – reluctant, hesitant, not wanting to disclose problems or whatever issues your currently confronting. That is a weird friendship. How can you expect a friendship to grow if you’re not able to talk about angers and hurts and frustrations? It can’t always be about the grand life, the masterpieces, the sheen. We need to wallow together in the grime, the dirt, the muck – the other half (or a third if lucky) that make up our lives. Otherwise, we’re just travelers swapping funny stories and tips on the best bars and spots this lonely planet has to offer. That may be good for a night or a weekend; it hardly warrants a lifetime commitment to preserving the ties. Then again, an argument can be made that true, lasting friendships are made out of such chance encounters between kindred souls.

Self-censorship, second-guessing one’s self – crippling personality aspects. Are these picked up from the environment (i.e. cultural) or are they internalized self-defense mechanisms?

Does the internet make you bolder, more courageous about your statements, more open to other perspectives, more tolerant of other people’s beliefs? Or does is it back you into a corner, defending earlier decisions, proclamations; just standing your ground because as they say “you are as good as your word.” Palabra de honor. Stephen Colbert on Bush: “When the president decides something on Monday, he still believes it on Wednesday -- no matter what happened Tuesday."

[/end rant]

summer blagging

There’s something about the onset of summer that makes me nostalgic. I don’t know if it’s because of the weather – the almost drastic change from February’s comfortably cool climes to the scorching temperature that is summer or to the farewell rituals that epitomizes these months – graduations, year-ender gimmicks, final class presentations, grad parties.

I suspect it’s more the latter. I first felt this when I was in my freshman year in college. It was the first weeks of March. I was inside an Ikot jeep and the radio began blaring New Order’s “Bizarre Love Triangle.” All of a sudden I was transported to my old decrepit high school, particularly at the precise moment that my schoolmates were rehearsing a dance number to the tune of BLT. I think it was for something Foundation Day-related. i was never part of dance routines in high school. My natural inclination was forever killed when, after a grade 2 class dance number, my lovely Lola so matter-of-factly commented: ang tigas ng katawan mo. Anyhoo, so there we were hanging out at our sorry-ass stage half of whom are rehearsing this dance while the other half observed/heckled. And yeah, Eugene was there my almost-first BF and so were our other friends. I can’t recall what was said between us but it probably involved flirting, the pa-cute kind – this, after all is high school in the mid 80s. hahaha

Where was I? ah yes, nostalgia. Ever since then, I’d feel sentimental once the hot winds of summer begin manifesting itself. Every now and then, I’d find myself looking out the window staring at our neighbor’s star apple tree and just thinking about the past and how my actions have led me to this one singular moment. At times, it makes me think about the people who I have shared a significant amount of my life but who are no longer part of this life.

There’s thing called seasonal affective disorder also known as winter depression. I may have a mild variation of it. But I don’t think it’s depression for me, though. I think that on these days I just become more reflective. A way to pay respects to actions past as I prepare to make new summer memories. I really don’t know. [shrug]

Anya Ngay?

I’ve been spending most of my time at home these days and invariably I find myself castigating, no wait that’s too harsh a word, reprimanding Veda for various whatevers. All part of parenting I know but it really puts a damper on my day every time I do it.

Seated on the couch tonight, I asked my favorite seatmate if he ever remembers being scolded as a young boy. Before he can even formulate an answer, I replied right away, "I do." Talk about answering your own question. Hee.

But I do remember being castigated and reprimanded and spanked as a little girl. To say that I was a handful would probably be an understatement. Hahaha. I can just picture my lola (and lolo), in all her glorious anger pointing her finger towards me spouting words like “Anya ngay? nagtangken ti ulom (Ilocano for: What the? You’re so hard-headed.”) Followed by either a) a threat to be spanked, pinched or slapped silly on my heiny or b) actually being spanked, pinched or slapped silly… you get the picture.

I shake my head at these memories and wonder how my grandparents and eventually my aunt Mayette and cousin, Ate Sonia ever survived me.

To be fair, Veda is more manageable than I ever was during my heydays; even I could see that. She easily understands why she's being reprimanded and does make an effort not to commit the same mistakes but you know she is a kid, and she needs to be constantly reminded. Plus, she's my daughter and she knows exactly which buttons to push - that's Buddy's theory. The challenge here is not to give in to acts which are somehow calculated to get a rise out of me. Zen is where it's at.

TVlandia

I have these TV series-es on DVD – I’ve been hoarding them since I first discovered the paradise that is the LRT 1 Carriedo station. I was really stocking up for when that day arrives that I’ll have little-to-nothing responsibilities or when I am looking at days of virtually doing nothing. Let me see: I have Grey’s Anatomy (1 &2), Prison Break, Numbers, Six Feet Under (all 5 seasons), The OC (1-3), One Tree Hill (1-3), 4400, Coupling, Scrubs (1-5), Battlestar Galactica (1-3) and an inordinate amount of full-length films.

Now that I’m finally within those days that I longed for, I find myself not so hot at watching half of the TV series that I have (some are still unwatched. Hoarding, i tell you).

There is one and only one reason for this: Veronica Mars has totally soured my taste for vapid TV. Granted, I have always been critical of so many TV shows but there were some which I considered guilty pleasures (OC and OTH, among them). But now, BUT now, I find not one ounce of tongue-in-cheek joy at following the so-called narratives of these shows – shows that have, in the past, been able to afford me some sense of pleasure. What have I done?

Everything about Veronica Mars, for better or worse has raised my standards for what makes good TV – from the superb writing to its great cast headed by Kristen Bell and Jason Dohring to its great execution. Kahit sabihin pa nila na hindi ganoon ka-tight ang season 3, it’s still one of the best TV shows around. And there isn’t a stronger female role model than she is – feisty, intelligent, stays true to self, toughie but a marshmallow nonetheless. Basta, magaling sha.

So now, when I have free time as I do now, I find myself ruing the day I followed Lia’s advice to check out VM. I mean, we all need mababaw shows once in a while. But I find that even my mababaw standards have gone higher. I can’t even enjoy Entourage now. But maybe it’s due more to the fact that I’ve seen the people and the circumstances that show portrays first hand. It’s just a little too close to home for comfort. Hee.

But I still try to watch these shows ploddingly. I mean, Seth Cohen still makes me laugh every now and then and there’s some residual infatuation with Lucas (am watching season 1 pa lang).

On the other side of the spectrum, Scrubs still cracks me up (Zach Braff, I heart you). Like the rest of humanity (at least those with TV), Buddy and I are hooked on Heroes (why must they go on hiatus? it's bad enough that i'm suffering from VM-withdrawal, must they take away Hiro and company, too?). As per Quark's suggestion, we're also logging some Battlestar Galactica hours as well as spending QT with Ugly Betty. Then, there's also the 7 seasons of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I'm not really keen on the supernatural but everyone says BtVS paved the way for VM (i'm inclined to agree although Sarah Michelle Gellar lacks the comedic timing of KB,imho).

Can you tell that i have lots of free time these days? :) Speaking of free time, maybe what I need is another 9-5 thing to make me appreciate the mababaw aspects of TV again? Hahaha how roundabout is that? But not just yet, ok? I so deserve this break.

Moosh, Moosh

You know you’re among friends...

When you can argue about something passionately, even to the point of stubbornness and still share a lovely meal afterwards.

When you can just blurt out “you know I felt so down and out the other day. I really cried a bucket” without getting any pity glances. They just understand it’s something we all go through at some point in our lives.

When they don’t mock your obsession with Veronica Mars. Although they sometimes can’t help but roll their eyes because let’s face it, every fifth word that comes out of your mouth these days concerns the noir universe of Neptune, California.

When they say "I hate you, you turned me into a Veronica Mars addict." you just smile and together you plot how to convert the others into worshiping at the LoVe altar.

When during a phone call, you say “can’t talk. I’m busy” and it’s ok with them.

When even if they are a thousand miles away with a different time zone, they manage to accompany you (via YM) and encourage your late-night studying.

When you feel safe talking about not-so-clean thoughts and dreams or venting about your anger and frustrations without fear of being judged.

When tasked to do an assignment and you feel you’re not up to the challenge, they tell you “how can it not be brilliant?”

When you can unconsciously say "So, is this your pasalubong?" broadly hinting that yes, you are kinda expecting a Christmas gift as well.

When faced with an uncertainty, he says “It’s ok, we’ll manage. We always do.”

in the meantime...

If you were to ask me when I was 16 what kind of life I would be living 16 years hence, I’d probably paint you a scenario that is so far removed from my present life. I’m not being regretful. In fact, I’m kinda amazed at where I am right now and how far I have gone and evolved from the foolish, impetuous girl I once was.

A good friend once told me, do not judge your life against the achievements of other people; judge yours by how far you have come as compared to your mother or grandmother. Parang every generation should be an improvement on the one that came before it. I know that if my grandparents can only see me now, they’d be proud – especially my dashing lolo Pedro. Sometimes, I just wish they lived longer.

===

just had a quick dinner with old friends at The Block in SM North. the main purpose for this meal was for Bamba to hand us her wedding invitation (woohoo. I'm one of the bridesmaids, errr matron nga ba dapat?)as well as that of her sister Marie. They are getting married within less than a month of each other. Ang hectic siguro sa bahay nila ngayon :)

friday madness

Thank.God.It's.Friday.

Although my week is far from over. There are just so many things to do this side of my life.

Happy weekend everyone. Remember to take joy wherever and whenever you can.